distance killing. He clipped the silencer into place. The newer, Russian-designed silencers used baffle chambers to shift the frequency of the sound beyond the range of human hearing; it provided an almost soundless kill — less enjoyment for the big assassin, but a necessity when silence was critical to an operation.
Benson’s sixth sense was tingling and he switched to night vision. He was being watched, but from where? He rapidly scanned in an arc around his perimeter, then quickly turned his face towards the ceiling.
The glass-tipped bullet entered his forehead directly above and between his eyes. On entry the bullet tip was designed to shear away; it had done its job of maintaining the projectile’s aerodynamics, the remaining slug was effectively a hollow point, broadening inside the skull cavity and turning his brain to soup. Benson fell forward — he had ceased to exist.
Uli Borshov circled his hand in the air once. The other two Krofskoya agents broke from their concealed positions in the snow and the three of them raced to the drop winch.
As the Americans would say, time to join the party.
With his HAWCs spread around the scientists, Alex should have felt a degree of security for his charges. However, his earlier unsettled feeling hadn’t abated and in fact was growing stronger. He also couldn’t shake the sensation that they were being watched, or somehow followed.
Moving away from the column of light the team now entered complete dark and from over Alex’s shoulders the scientists’ torch beams created pipes of light that waved in all directions. It gave him a chance to scrutinise his surroundings; for the most part the massive tunnel they were in was featureless, with few of the formations you would expect in a large, ancient cave system. The walls, floor and ceilings were smoothed, perhaps as Monica said by ice or water, but it still looked unnatural. Even Alex could feel the weight of the silence; if not for the multiple footfalls you might have heard your own heartbeat. Alex could hear that no one was breathing particularly hard as the clear slope was angling downward. The major surprise for Alex was the temperature — the more they trekked, the warmer it became.
After hiking steadily for sixty minutes, Alex called a ten-minute rest break. He ordered Johnson to scout ahead for five minutes and then report back in. Johnson acknowledged the order with a brief “affirmative,” switched to night scope vision, and disappeared into the still darkness.
From behind Alex, Adrian Silex said in his whining, nasal tone, “I don’t get it, one moment it seems we have air pockets under us, the next we have water. I can’t understand how Dr. Hendsen ever received a positive reading unless it was somewhere much deeper than here. If we don’t find a testing base site that is on geologically stable ground I won’t be able to receive a clear reading and we will have wasted our time. Captain, can you please organise for us to continue onward a bit more quickly?”
Borshov spent time going over Benson’s equipment and caving suit. He needed to know what the American HAWCs had brought with them and what he would be dealing with. He held up Benson’s M98 and sighted along the barrel. He secreted it among some rocks — a little insurance was a good thing, he thought. The other two Russian assassins wasted little time in destroying communications equipment and anything else that could aid the American team. They looked like three large alien insects in their black head-to-toe infiltration suits. Down in the darkened cave, even their faces were covered with the single lens of the Generation-III cyclops night vision scope extending outwards from their brows. They moved quickly but surely to catch up with the American team.
Borshov looked forward to meeting his old friend again, and seeing if this time his thick American head could hold one of the exploding bullets he was saving.
Alex’s comm unit pinged as Johnson out at point reported in. “All clear so far, however the slope is deepening to an incline of about thirty degrees. No sign of the Hendsen party other than the footprints — they just keep heading on into the cave depths.”
Alex couldn’t help thinking aloud. “Where the hell were they all going? OK, roger that; hold your position, we’re coming down. Be with you in about seven minutes.”
Ten
Johnson found an alcove in the cave wall and folded himself in. His training dictated that on field operations you leave as little of your body exposed and undefended as possible.
From the cave depths there was a soft watery sound. Johnson’s head whipped around and he strained to hear more. Even with his senses tuned and his electronic equipment at their maximum settings no movement or heat shapes could be detected. He quickly scanned his perimeter and when he turned back to the cave ahead he could now just make out a vaguely human shape about a hundred feet farther in. He remained silent and immobile, even his breathing slowed. The shape moved closer to Johnson’s position in a gliding, oily motion.
When the shape was only about twenty feet away Johnson could make out it was a man, but he looked oily or wet; almost like he was covered in mucous or something slick. As the figure came still closer, he could also now see he was dressed in the clothes of the previous rescue party. Johnson adjusted the magnification on his night scope and could make out the name tag: Hendsen.
“Dr. Hendsen, sir, are you all right?”
Hendsen didn’t acknowledge him. However, he did seem to move a little closer. Might be in shock or disorientated, he thought. Johnson stood up slowly and walked carefully sideways towards the figure of Hendsen; as he did so he pinged his comm unit and reported in.
“Boss, I got a survivor here — looks to be Dr. Tom Hendsen but he looks kind of strange.”
Alex’s senses went into overdrive, he turned away and so as not to alert the rest of the scientific team said as quietly, and forcefully as he could manage, “Johnson, you will hold your position. Do not interact with or approach survivor. Is that clear?”
As Johnson was about to confirm his last order, he took a single step back towards cover. His movement triggered an explosion of activity in the Tom Hendsen shape. It leaped forward as if on a spring and smashed into Johnson front-on with a wet smacking sound that echoed back down into the cavern. Johnson felt the juddering impact but was less dazed than he expected to be. Hendsen was an average-sized man and he thought he should have at least been knocked off his feet by the collision. However the mass that struck him was softer than it had a right to be and he found himself held upright and actually glued in place. He reached up with his free hand to push himself away but this too sank into the mass and became stuck.
The acrid chemical smell was making his eyes water and he noticed a thick, fleshy cord extending from the thing’s back and away into the cave depths. His comm unit pinged urgently for attention, but he had no chance of responding as even his face was now adhered to the Tom Hendsen shape. The final agony came as several dagger- like tusks extended from the shape and pierced his body. His last coherent thought was of the running footprints, the dragging, the missing bodies; suddenly it all came together.
Johnson managed a single muffled scream as he was roughly yanked off his feet and dragged struggling into the depths of the cave.
Alex’s heightened senses were screaming at him. He was learning to use his extraordinary capabilities to pick up a person’s presence when they were in his proximity; and a few seconds ago he could “feel” Johnson out at point. But now… gone.
“Johnson, report in.” Nothing. “Report in, Lieutenant!” Just static. Nothing.
“Mike, Tank, with me. Takeda, keep the group together and move them slowly up behind us. I don’t want any stragglers.” The HAWCs sprinted off into the darkness.
In a few minutes, Alex had found the last position of Lieutenant John Johnson. A few seconds later Mike and then Tank caught up and joined him. Though Alex slowed the last dozen paces to approach with caution, no one on the team could hope to keep pace with him when he opened it up. “Tank, eyes forward and cover.” Tank nodded and trotted silently further into the cave depths. He had switched to stealth mode so to anyone other than another HAWC he was virtually invisible.
Alex and Mike crouched down and switched on their helmet lamps. The ground showed a single pair of HAWC footprints moving to an area of major ground disturbance. However, this was fairly vague as there was still roughly another dozen sets of footsteps and drag marks from the Hendsen party continuing on into the darkness.
“Contact was made here, a struggle, then nothing.” Alex stood up.
Mike looked around and said to Alex, “No blood, no debris; do you think the Hendsen team took him?”
