Xenonauts: Crimson Dagger (5 page)

Looking back, she made brief eye contact with him before turning ahead. “Yes, captain?”

“What is your rank?”

For several moments, she didn’t answer. When she finally did, her voice was distant. “I am a specialist, Mr. Kirov. Rank does not apply to me as it does to you.” Several steps later, she spoke again. “But if you must know, I am a major.”

She was his direct superior.

Looking back at him again, her stern eyes showed a glint of compassion. “This is your operation, captain. I am here to serve a purpose—you are here to lead. There is no need to address me as your superior. It will be better for your men if you don’t.”

He hadn’t intended to address her rank at all, but the sentiment was appreciated. Regardless, it would all be moot once he entered the spacecraft. “I want you covering the dig site once we are inside, even if it means from behind one of these outcroppings. I don’t want us getting flanked.”

“Understood, captain.”

Looking forward, Mikhail watched as the spacecraft loomed closer. There was no doubt that the rain was affecting the front line. He’d been given some radio equipment during the jeep ride, but for the moment was trusting his American counterparts, one of whom was a communications specialist, to keep the lines of communication open with the rest of their forces.

“We are coming to the site,” said Nina, slowing her pace as they neared the side of the ship. Mikhail’s eyes followed the outline of the spacecraft. This was behind one of its giant ray-like wings. Once again, he surveyed their immediate surroundings. There were three large outcroppings in their immediate vicinity—perfect cover for an alien ambush. He motioned for Hemingway’s men to spread out.

Nina drew to a stop, holding up her hand to indicate for the others to do the same. Mikhail complied, glancing back only to ensure that the rest of the group did as well. Once confirmed, he turned his focus back to Nina. She was just standing there, hand in the halt position, panning her head ever so slightly to survey the area. But other that, she was totally still. And totally silent.

Something was wrong.

“Miss Andrianova?” he asked.

“Shhh!”

Mikhail froze. Nina’s gaze was locked onto something directly ahead of them, where the side of the spacecraft was now plainly in view. But there was nothing else of significance there that would have caught her eye. No hostiles. No motion.

No dig team.

A chill rolled down Mikhail’s spine. Nina’s pace had been confident—surely this was where they were supposed to be. Squinting through the rain, he could make out the outline of a crude hole dug against the side of the ship. This was where they were supposed to go. Taking a quiet step closer, he whispered to her, “Could they have passed us back to the—“

“No,” she answered. “They were supposed to hold position.” The sniper readied her pistol. She began to move with steady caution toward the spaceship. “We need to see if they finished the dig. We need to see if the entryway is clear.”

Mikhail motioned for Sevastian and Iosif to follow her. “Help her dig if it needs to be dug.”

“Where is the dig team?” Sevastian asked.

“Assume them dead.” Looking back to Hemingway, Mikhail gave the signal for
ambush
. Hemingway relayed the signal to the rest of his troops. They readied their weapons.

Mikhail followed Nina to the wall of the spacecraft, his eyes averting to the hole. It wasn’t finished. It didn’t even look close. Sandbags were strewn about the edge of the hole, at the bottom of which was a pool of mud. Pulling off her helmet, Nina closed her eyes and exhaled. Hand pressing back her hair, she looked at Mikhail. Her expression conveyed more than words could. This was bad.

“Contact! Contact!”

The voice belonged to Hemingway. Whipping their heads in his direction, Mikhail and Nina raised their weapons to look for a target. But nothing was there, despite the fact that all of the other operatives—Soviet and American alike—were reacting to something. At the same time, Mikhail and Nina swung back around. Their gazes tilted up the side of the spacecraft’s wall.

The aliens were on the roof.

Poised at the ship’s edge was a creature the likes of which Mikhail had never imagined—at least, not at this close a range. It was huge; a reptilian juggernaut covered in green scales and black body armor. And it was aiming at
them
.

Shoving Nina toward the hole, Mikhail leapt in the opposite direction. The energy blast struck where he’d stood a half-second before; a shockwave of heat slammed into Mikhail’s back. But the next thing to hit the ground was worse. From their position atop the vessel—a good five meters from the ground—a trio of extraterrestrials leapt to the earth. One of them landed right by Mikhail.

They looked like warrior lizards. Fiery orange frills stuck up atop their heads; their eyes swiveled like a chameleon’s. Their weapons—bright red rifles like nothing Mikhail had ever seen—searched for their targets. Mikhail was one of them. Rolling as fast as he could, he narrowly avoided an energy blast from the nearest alien’s rifle. Swinging up his AK-47, he opened fire. The creature roared and surged forward.

Assault rifle in hand, Mikhail leapt straight for the hole, which was by far the closest cover to him. Rolling over the edge, his feet escaped him and he tumbled downward, landing on his backside against one of the earthen walls.

Nina was there, too, sloshing through the mud and looking around frantically. Slicking back her hair with both hands, the sniper locked onto Mikhail. “They were much farther along than this!” As she spoke, Nikolai the medic joined them in the pit. “These sandbags were thrown in from above. The aliens must have attacked when the rain became blinding. This mud—it was not like this before. The entire rim of the dig site must have caved!”

“If there were more sandbags, then where are they?” Mikhail asked. Above them, the blue shine of energy bolts whizzed overhead. “Could they be at the bottom here?”

Seeming to think for a moment, Nina nodded her head. “They had more than enough sandbags to plug up this hole.”

That was all Mikhail needed to hear. Throwing off his helmet and holding his breath, he dove beneath the surface. The mud was watery but thick, and more than a chore to maneuver through. Blindly feeling ahead of him, his fingers came upon something at the bottom of the pool. It was hard—leathery. A sandbag. Grabbing it with both hands, he pushed up with his knees and broke the surface, slinging the mud-soaked bag blindly to the side. Wiping mud from his face, he looked at Nina and Nikolai.

“The bags are down there. If we move them, we find the entryway.” This could be done. “I want you both pulling up bags.” He looked back at the rim of the hole. “I need to get back up there.” A full-on firefight was taking place, and right now he wasn’t a part of it. That needed to change. Glancing at Nina, Mikhail said, “Get up as many as you can.”

“Yes, captain,” she said, wiping her hair back again, then staring at the mud pool. Giving Nikolai a brief look, she sucked in a breath and plunged down. The medic joined her as Mikhail clawed his way out of the pit.

On the surface, the battle raged on—and casualties were mounting. Despite being vastly outnumbered, the reptilian aliens were holding their own. Of the three aliens that had leapt down, two had survived the barrage of ammunition hurled at them. Valentine and Yuri, Mikhail’s lieutenant and his engineer, had fallen, their charred bodies sprawled lifelessly on the ground where the alien weapons had incinerated them. Sevastian was left alone to fight alongside the Green Berets, though casualties were mounting for them, as well. The reptiles were winning.

Mikhail made a beeline for the nearest of the three large outcroppings, where Iosif was firing at one of the reptiles from behind—a specimen contesting Sevastian and a pair of Green Berets. Sliding to a knee and propping his rifle, Mikhail joined in Iosif’s assault. With the two Soviets concentrating on the chinks in the alien’s armor from behind, and with Sevastian and the Americans attacking from the front, the giant reptile was felled in a matter of seconds. Rising to his feet, Mikhail rushed to meet his senior lieutenant.

“Is the entry clear, captain?” Sevastian shouted through the downpour.

“No. The sandbags have caved in and covered the hole. I have Lukin and Andrianova working on it!” Swiveling with his assault rifle, Mikhail scanned for the last of the three enemy targets, which was firing at the rest of the Green Berets from atop the third outcropping. Taking aim again, Mikhail readied his finger on the trigger.

He didn’t have time to fire. There was a swooshing sound, as if a jet fighter had just buzzed his ear, accompanied by a concussive shockwave that pushed him forward off his feet. The smell of ozone hit his nostrils. The next thing his foggy mind registered was Sevastian slamming to the ground. The senior lieutenant grabbed his right shoulder and screamed.

They’d been attacked from behind.

Turning around, Mikhail searched for the new enemy. What he saw drained the color from his face. There were four more reptiles approaching—and that was only what he could see. Their energy rifles flashing in the storm, they unleashed a new barrage against the humans. A Green Beret was struck, his head cocking sideways as his face was fried off. He spun lifelessly to the ground.

Enemy reinforcements—the thing they couldn’t afford. This was no longer about isolating the enemy. It was now pure survival. Helping Sevastian to his feet, Mikhail blazed some minimally-effective suppression fire at the oncoming adversaries. Iosif was already running full-speed toward the dig site. It wasn’t cowardice on the part of the burly lieutenant, it was situational awareness. All hands needed to be on the sandbags. It would have been the next order out of Mikhail’s mouth. Through grimaces of pain, Sevastian began firing his pistol left-handedly.

“Get to the entryway!” said Mikhail, pushing Sevastian along his way before rotating to seek out Hemingway. The Americans were still battling the final reptile, which had taken to galloping between outcroppings in massive leaps. By the look of it, Hemingway only had three men with him. Mikhail shouted to them just as the Green Berets felled the beast, blood spraying from its neck as a bullet found its mark.
“More coming!”

Even in the midst of a rainstorm, Mikhail could see the look on Hemingway’s face. The moment the American captain laid eyes on the approaching enemies, his expression fell. It was the first indication of anything resembling dread on the face of the Green Beret leader. There was no need for Mikhail to say anything more. All four of the remaining Americans sprinted for the dig site.

By the time Mikhail slid feet-first back into the hole, Nina and Nikolai had amassed an impressive stack of sandbags. The mud-soaked sniper and medic were flinging bags over their shoulders with reckless abandon. Stopping at the bottom of the pit, Mikhail’s attention was grabbed by a different type of stacked object—three mud-caked bodies piled on top of each other.

Breathlessly wiping mud from her face, Nina motioned to the corpses. “The dig team.”

There wasn’t time to care. “More hostiles are en route. If we don’t get that hole opened in the next sixty seconds, it will be
our
bodies plugging it.” Turning back, he pointed to Hemingway. “Take one of your men and hold them off as long as you can. Tyannikov, go with him. Everyone else,
dig
!” Acknowledging, Hemingway, his teammate, and the wounded Sevastian fired their weapons from the rim of the hole.

Dive. Grab. Toss. Dive. Grab. Toss. Dark gray mud sloshed in every direction. Covered from head to toe, individuals were indistinguishable. They were just bodies throwing bags. Only the suppressors at the top of the hole were spared from the toil. Then Mikhail felt it. It was distinct—instantly recognizable. As he grabbed and yanked at another sandbag, a definable suction pushed past his hands.

The entryway.

Bursting up to the surface, he shouted through mud in his teeth. “We’re there! Dig as fast as you can!” It was encouragement and emphasis. They were so close now. They were almost through to…what? Not daylight. Certainly not safety. Mikhail only knew that wherever they were about to go, it was better than where they were now.

Dive. Grab. Toss. Dive. Grab. With every sandbag that was removed, the suction became stronger. Then, the dam broke. The pool’s bottom fell out. Suddenly, there was no footing to lose, and they were dragged into the quagmire. Into the ship.

The only things Mikhail felt other than mud were arms and legs flailing in every direction. Then, as quickly as it began, it was over. Bodies hit metal as the mudslide burst out onto the floor. A mass pile-up ensued. As the alien spacecraft had crashed into the earth at a ten-degree angle, the mud flowed across the slick metallic surface, straight toward the rear wall of whatever room they were in. Bodies slammed together as the frantic rush to stand up began.

Slipping and sliding to his feet, Mikhail turned back to the hole. Hemingway, his soldier, and Sevastian were sliding feet-first through the gash in the ship’s hull. A panic hit Mikhail.
Can the aliens outside fit too?
No—that was impossible. Mikhail and his comrades were decidedly smaller. There was no way the hulking reptiles would be able to cram inside. Reaching down to his belt, he grabbed his…

…nothing. His pistol was gone. Another realization struck him.
My rifle is outside!
How many others were now weaponless?

Gunfire erupted from outside of the entryway. Bright blue bolts of energy splashed off the floor and hull. The reptiles might have been too big to fit through the hole, but that wasn’t going to stop them from shooting. He grabbed the nearest person still on the ground—Nina. Drenched in muck, the sniper was only identifiable by her figure. “Are you okay?”

Coughing, she wiped her mouth, then spat. She shook her head
no
.

This was out of her element. Nina’s specialty was working from a distance, not up close and personal—she was never supposed to enter the ship with them at all. She’d also been hurling sandbags longer than anyone, with the exception of the medic, Nikolai Lukin. She was completely exhausted.