Area 51 - The Reply - Part 17
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Part 17

"My intelligence man, Sergeant Brooks, is working on the enemy situation in the vicinity of the target," Harker said, drawing him out of his reverie. "We got a lot of information that we've been trying to process into intelligence."

Harker glanced at the closed door, then back at Turcotte and Nabinger.

Instinctively, Turcotte knew what was bothering the warrant officer; it was what would be disturbing him if he were in the other man's shoes.

"Listen, we're all in this together," Turcotte said. "I'm in command, but all that means is that201.

this mission is my responsibility, Chief. You still command your team and I'll follow whatever plan you've come up with to get us in there and out."

Chief Harker seemed to relax ever so slightly. He pointed about the room.

"Chase there is our commo man. He's coordinated with Zandra or whatever the h.e.l.l her name is on times, message formats, codes to be used, and equipment. We'll be using SATCOM and we have unlimited access. We'll be carrying two sets. Chase will have one, I'll have the other."

Chase had short, sandy hair and a red face. He was slightly overweight with large muscular arms. He was carefully coiling up a set of cables, taking all the care the mother of a newborn would over her infant.

"We got FM rigs for each person to wear for interteam commo," Harker continued. "Throat mikes, voice activated, earplug. See Chase to get yours rigged."

Harker moved to another table. "Pressler is our medic. He's done a medical profile on the area of operations, but we don't plan on being there long enough for native flora or fauna or diseases to be a problem. We're more concerned about man-made medical problems like bullets. He's got a cut-down M-3 aid bag he'll be carrying. Also, I'd like for you two to be rigged with two IVs on a vest inside your shirt like we all wear. One's blood expander, the other's glucose. They can save your a.s.s from going under if you're in shock."

Turcotte nodded. He could tell Nabinger and Duncan weren't following half of what the burly Green Beret was telling them, but Turcotte planned on sticking close by the professor202.

throughout me mission and Duncan had only to be concerned about what happened back here.

For the first time in a long, long time, Turcotte felt at home. Even when he'd been inbriefed into the Nightscape security force working at Area 51, he'd felt like an outsider. But he understood these men and how they operated.

"What's the threat?" Turcotte asked. "It don't look good," Harker said. "The PLA, People's Liberation Army, got several units deployed in our area of operation. Looks like there's some real shooting going on between the PLA and Muslim factions. Also, that Zandra lady said that the people we're supposed to link up with are locked inside the tomb, so that means things are stirred up a bit in our AO."

Harker pointed at a spot on the side of the mountain tomb. "This is the only entrance we know of. As you can see, the PLA got a couple of vehicles parked in the courtyard and a machine position set up here, on the side of the mountain right above the door."

"How do you plan on getting in?" Turcotte asked.

"Two stages," Harker said. "First, my snipers reach out and touch someone, taking out the machine-gun position. They'll keep firing until we get noticed.

Then the rest of us go in and clear out the guys left alive on the doorstep.

Then my engineer, Howes, has got charges prerigged that he says can blow the doors and get us in."

"What weapons are you carrying?" Turcotte asked.

"Two Haskins .50-caliber sniper rifles with MP5-SD3 as personal weapons. Two Squad Auto-203.

matic Weapons for firepower, and two M-203's for some indirect fire. You can ask your lady friend for whatever you want to carry. Whatever we've asked for, she's gotten, including some demo stuff my engineer has only read about."

"Okay," Turcotte said. "How are we infiltrating?"

"a.s.s end of an MC-130 at four hundred feet," Harker said.

"Four hundred!" Nabinger spoke for the first time. "I thought it was going to be five hundred."

Harker laughed, a rough sound like pebbles grating together. "Four hundred, five hundred, h.e.l.l, that's only talk. For the real deal we'll be lucky if that crew goes up above three hundred feet to drop us. They're going to be staying as low as they can to keep their b.u.t.ts from being seen on Chinese radar."

Seeing Nabinger turn pale, Harker slapped him on the shoulder. "Don't sweat it, Prof, we came up with something that'll make your landing nice and soft." He led them over to another photo of the tomb and the surrounding terrain. He tapped on the photo. "That's where you're going to jump."

His finger rested on a small lake about two kilometers from the tomb, on the same side as the entrance. Turcotte knew what Harker meant about a soft landing, although he also knew there was a downside to parachuting into a body of water at night.

"The MC-130 navigates by reflected radar images," Turcotte explained to Duncan and Nabinger. "The smooth surface of the lake gives a very large signature that the plane can easily find,204.

so that's good. Plus we can look out the back and double-check we're in the right place before we jump."

"f.u.c.king-A on that," Harker said.

Turcotte knew what the other man meant-anyone with any time in Special Forces had been on drops from MC-130's where they landed miles from the intended drop zone.

Turcotte slapped Nabinger on the back. "You don't have to worry about having to learn how to do a parachute landing fall or breaking your leg."

"No, just drowning," Nabinger muttered. Turcotte thought it best to avoid that topic right now. "What about exfiltration? Had any time to look at that?"

Harker scratched his jaw. "Well, that's another story. There are several places we can use for PZs."

"PZs?" Duncan asked.

"Pickup zones for helicopters," Turcotte explained.

"Like I said," Harker continued, "there's plenty of PZ locations. What worries me, though, is that the warning order said we were going to have two MH-60's take us out. Now, I may not be the brightest guy in the world, but I do know a little about the Black Hawk. I know that it doesn't have the range, even with external tanks, to make it from here to the target area and back. Not even close. I'm kind of curious how they think they're going to do this and who's flying the mission."

"Maybe they'll in-flight refuel," Turcotte said. "Some of the specially modified Task Force 160 Black Hawks have that capability."

"Yeah, the choppers might have the capability,"205.

Harker acknowledged, but I doubt very much the Air Force is gonna put one of their tankers over Chinese airs.p.a.ce."

"I'll talk to Zandra about it and see if I can get more information," Lisa Duncan said.

"Well, if the Air Force gets us in the right place," Harker said, "I'll get you in the tomb."

Turcotte, Duncan, and Nabinger looked at the imagery and maps of the mountain that was Qian-Ling. "It's big," Turcotte noted. "Any idea how far it extends underground?" he asked Nabinger.

"None. As far as is known, no one's been in it since it was sealed."

"Great," Turcotte said.

A woman's voice cut in. Zandra had walked in while they were talking. "Your gear is waiting and the plane is landing, so I suggest you get moving."

As they left the room, Nabinger shook his head and spoke in a voice only Turcotte and Duncan could hear. "You know, this is kind of bizarre, don't you think?"

"What is?" Turcotte asked.

"Well, here we are, using the best technology man has, to get into an ancient tomb in China, to try and find out about the Airlia. Maybe, like Kelly said, we aren't ready like Aspasia thinks we are if we can't even agree with the Chinese government to let us take a look without having to sneak in."

"There's no doubt mankind is not united enough to join arm-in-arm with some advanced alien race," Turcotte said. "But that's not what worries me."

"What does concern you, then?" Duncan asked.206.

"What worries me," Turcotte said, "is whether mankind can get its s.h.i.t together enough to fight an advanced alien race if we have to."

"All of you except Ki stay here," Che Lu ordered. "He and I will go back the way we came and try the right pa.s.sageway."

They had taken the left pa.s.sage another half mile past the light shaft, only to find it ended abruptly in a smooth stone wall. The disappointment weighed heavy on the students and Che Lu, but she knew better than to give in to the weight. She had turned them around and led them back to the shaft of light. "If we find something, I will send Ki back." Che Lu didn't want the others shuffling behind her as she explored down deeper. She knew it was only a matter of time before one or more of the young students gave in to their fears and became a liability. At least the daylight would give them some comfort, although she knew night would be falling soon.

Taking the bamboo stick and all the flashlights but one, she and Ki headed back the way they had come, the light off to conserve it, using the stick along the wall to search for the intersection, since they had already pa.s.sed this way and knew it to be safe and smooth.

"We've lost a hundred meters in the last two hours," Tennyson reported, his voice echoing through the cramped interior of the Greywolf.

"Keep your eye on the gauge and let me know207.

if we lose more." Commander Downing wasn't worried about depth right now.

Condensation was forming on the interior of the submersible, adding to the chill that was seeping in from the outside. He had the battery heaters off, conserving power, and keeping the foo fighters from reacting to any indication of energy, but he knew he couldn't do it indefinitely without it getting so cold inside that they would become hypothermic.

Downing twisted his head and looked out the small portal into the dark water.

There was nothing for almost five minutes; then, right on schedule, one of the foo fighters drifted past, its glow the only source of light other than the two emergency lights inside the sub.

"d.a.m.n," Tennyson muttered, looking over his shoulder. "What do you think those attack subs are doing?"

"They're waiting, just like we are."

"For what?" Emory asked from his console.

"For something to happen," Downing said. "Either the foo fighters will do something or go away."

"So we're waiting on those things," Emory said.

"Actually," Downing said, "I think we're all waiting on Aspasia to wake up and sort this all out."208.

Chapter 19.

The members of the Special Forces team and their two straphangers finished loading their rucksacks onto the floor of the MC-130 and seated themselves along the right side of the plane on the cargo webbing seats. To Turcotte's eye the team looked like a group of seals out of water, as they all wore black dry suits over their camouflage fatigues.

In the bustle of loading onto the plane Turcotte had not had a chance to talk to Duncan alone. Just a hurried good-bye and good luck and then the back ramp had come up, sealing them off from the outside world, and the turboprop engines kicked into life. Turcotte felt a little out of sorts, and he shook his head to clear it of extraneous thoughts and focus on the task at hand.

Turcotte had coordinated several checkpoints en route to the drop zone. The loadmaster in the back of the aircraft would relay the checkpoint number from the navigator to him as they crossed each one, keeping him oriented to where they209.were on the route. At checkpoint one, where the aircraft dropped alt.i.tude and headed for the coast of China, Turcotte would have the team start their inflight rig to put their parachutes on. The last checkpoint was six minutes from the drop zone, where Turcotte would start his jump commands.

Turcotte glanced at Nabinger, who looked most uncomfortable in his dry suit.

The professor was probably beginning to regret his enthusiasm about Qian-Ling and what might be hidden in the tomb. Turcotte knew that Nabinger would regret it even more when the plane began its low-level flight across China. Pressler, the medic, started pa.s.sing out Dramamine pills to those who wanted them.

Turcotte knew the Dramamine would help reduce the motion sickness that was an integral part of any MC-130 flight. He made sure that Nabinger downed one.

The wheels of the MC-130 lifted off the tarmac and the plane roared into the night sky.

Duncan watched the plane until it was no longer visible. Then she walked back to the operations center. She looked at Zandra, hunched over the communications console for a few minutes. As she walked behind her, Zandra finishing whatever she'd been doing, then turned and faced her.

"Time to work on the plan to get them out of there, don't you think?" Duncan asked.

Zandra pressed the tips of her fingers together. "Certainly. It's already being done."

"By who?"

"By a responsible agency," Zandra replied.

"Who are you?" Duncan asked.210.

"I told you-"

"And I know it's bulls.h.i.t," Duncan said. "I've been around Washington a long time and I have some connections. You're not CIA. h.e.l.l, you've got more clout than the CIA. It would have taken the Agency a week to get that Air Force plane here to fly that mission and a ton of paperwork, but you had it here with less than twelve hours' notice and with authorization to send it into Chinese airs.p.a.ce."

"The authorization came from a presidential directive," Zandra said. "You can verify that if you wish."

"Not from a directive issued by this President," Duncan said.

"Nevertheless, I do have my authority from a presidential directive," Zandra said, "and you are required by law to support me."

"Your execution of this mission does not bear the stamp of the CIA or any other government agency I'm familiar with," Duncan said. "Nor did the Rift Valley operation."

"You question me because I am efficient?" Zandra asked.

"I question you because I want to know who you really work for," Duncan said.

"And I've told you that," Zandra said.

"What I'd really like," Duncan said, leaning close to the other woman, "is for those people you just sent to be brought back. They are not expendable, do you understand?"

Zandra didn't blink or avert her gaze. "I understand quite clearly."211.Che Lu and Ki had pa.s.sed the four-way intersection twenty minutes ago and continued straight through, taking what had originally been the right-hand pa.s.sage that headed deeper into the mountain tomb. At first the pa.s.sageway ran straight and slightly down, but now it began to do wide turns, right, then left, then back right, going down at a steeper angle until Che Lu suspected they were below the base of the mountain and into the Earth itself.

It was slow and tense going as the fear that any second they might trip another trap weighed heavily on their psyches. Despite her fear Che Lu was amazed at the length and exact construction of the tunnel they were moving down.

The walls and floor were perfectly smooth and the tunnel seemed to go on forever.

Of course, she'd had to reevaluate her entire frame of reference about the tomb since seeing the holographic alien figure in the main tunnel. Ancient Chinese workers had not carved this tunnel out of rock. She had been so concerned simply about survival that she had not taken the thought farther than that, but as her mind went in that direction she felt the very roots of her knowledge base suffer tremors of uncertainty.

What was true now? What was the real history of her people and the people of Earth, for that matter?