By the time Francisco called Aimee, all that remained of Ramon was a blackened head and neck, a pair of glistening feet, and a mound of jelly-like substance steaming in between.
‘Oh my God, what the hell did this?’ Aimee asked. ‘Some sort of industrial solvent?’ She pulled the front of her shirt up over her nose. ‘Smells like boiled vegetables and … something like tar.’
Francisco shrugged and shook his head. His eyes were locked on the remains and his normally light brown complexion looked sallow and waxen. He raised a handkerchief to cover his nose and spoke through the incongruously spotless cotton. ‘There are no chemicals used on this project that could cause that type of damage to the human body. Do you think it could be a disease? There are recorded virus types that exist in jungles that can cause extreme cellular disintegration — like Ebola or Marburg?’
Aimee narrowed her eyes at the mess on the sleeping mat and spoke through her shirt. ‘Yes, you’re right, but I don’t believe there’s been any recorded incident on the South American continent. Anyway, they don’t cause total disintegration, just cell-wall destruction leading to organ failure and bleed-out. No, this is something different — and very weird.’
She kneeled for a closer look, still keeping her distance from the corpse. ‘It’s still active — it’s breaking down rapidly. Let’s get some photos of the remains before there’s nothing left. I’ll take some samples too.’ She paused. ‘This tent should be off limits to everyone.’
‘Yes, I agree. I also think the men who were with this poor soul should be disinfected and kept in isolation until we know what it is we are dealing with.’ Francisco pulled the handkerchief away from his face for a moment, and tilted his head. ‘It seems the more we erode the jungle, the more it fights back. There have been extreme contaminations in Latin America, Dr Weir. Two hundred people were infected with hantavirus in the Boqueron region. Many recovered, but our government takes any outbreaks very seriously now.’ He looked at Aimee, his face still very pale. ‘I will have to report this to the Paraguayan Communicable Diseases Unit in Asuncion.’
Aimee nodded and followed him out of the tent. She regretted entering the enclosed space without a mask. If the contaminant was a microorganism, and was airborne, she was also now at risk.
SEVEN
Alex knocked, then pushed open the door. Jack Hammerson was standing by the window, talking on the phone and looking out over the base grounds. On seeing Alex, he nodded and motioned towards the lounge chairs in the corner. He said a few more words, hung up without a goodbye, then joined Alex and sat down.
‘How’s Sam shaping up?’ he asked.
‘First Lieutenant Reid is A-okay. His ribs are still painful, and he’s got a few less teeth so his modelling days are over, but he’s ready for duty. We’re
Alex kept his face expressionless as he reported on his second-in-command’s mission fitness. He’d seen Sam leaving the Hammer’s office earlier that day, but when he asked about the meeting, Sam had been evasive. All he would say was that the Hammer was checking on his physical status. It was unusual for Hammerson to do that personally and not simply trust Alex’s review. At the same time, Alex wondered if he was suffering from paranoia. He felt he was starting to mistrust everyone and everything a little too much. Was it yet another side effect of his treatments?
Hammerson chuckled. ‘Good. You leave tomorrow at 0800 hours. You’ll need to get your team down to supply today for kit-out. I suggest the new hothouse jungle fatigues — black and green tiger-stripe camouflage. Two-layer Kevlar weave — tougher than steel but with full flexibility and maximum strength without the added weight. You’re going into a wet zone, so you can expect humidity between eighty and a hundred per cent. The suit’s first layer will pull the water away from your body; the second layer’s durability can defray a knife strike.’
Alex nodded. ‘Additional body armour?’
‘No. Even the lighter ceramics would trap too much heat. However, there are optional gloves with zirconium dioxide knuckle protectors. If you have to hit something, it’ll give it a real nasty headache.’
‘We’ll take ‘em. What about offensive armaments — is the KBELT laser still available?’
Hammerson shook his head. ‘Way too much humidity in the air for it to be useful; the high-energy pulse would fray in only a few feet. But we do have something that we’ve perfected for high-humidity terrains.’ He glanced at his watch, then got to his feet. ‘Let’s get down to the range. I’ve got something to show you — I think you’ll like it.’
Alex grinned. ‘You just don’t trust me near your furniture anymore, do you?’
Hammerson laughed and looked at his desk. ‘Hey, you’re getting the bill for that, mister.’
It took nearly half a minute for the secure lift to drop eight levels below the camp and reach USSTRATCOM’s operational research facilities. It was probably one of the most secure and invisible facilities anywhere on the planet, with almost as much ionised shielding as the President’s Mole Hole.
The lift door opened to a blank metallic wall containing a tiny silver grate at head height. Both Alex and Hammerson stated their name and rank into the small opening and waited while their voice patterns were analysed and the DNA extracted from their exhalations. The wall slid back to reveal a long, brightly lit corridor. Approaching them was a young man in a mid-length lab coat. He saluted and gave them a friendly smile.
Hammerson ignored the smile and started walking quickly, forcing the man to almost skip to keep up. He spoke without turning his head. ‘All set up?’
‘Yes, sir, absolutely. Range five. If you need anything else—’
‘That’ll be all.’
Hammerson increased his pace and the young man slowed to a halt, obviously aware that his usefulness had expired.
Another barrier, another code; this time the door opened onto a long room, like an aircraft hangar.
‘Good,’ Hammerson said when he saw his orders had been carried out correctly.
Mounted on a tripod was a piece of equipment that looked like a gauntlet. Fifty feet away, a row of figures were lit from spots above, the lights illuminating their translucent amber torsos. Hammerson stood behind the device for a second, looking down the room to the targets. Then he stepped aside and motioned for Alex to take his place.
‘Portable Solidified Moisture Projectile Device,’ he said.
Alex grinned. ‘Ice gun will do just fine.’
Hammerson pushed a stud on the back of the gauntlet and a small blue light came on. ‘Clever use of technology. The problem we found with extremely humid environments was that the armaments gummed up from too much moisture in the air. Even the bullet casings tended to corrode and swell. So, a few years back, we set the lab guys a simple task — give us something that’s light, doesn’t corrode, doesn’t need a lot of ammunition, but is deadly as hell.’ Hammerson lifted the device and slid it over his forearm. ‘They gave us this …’
He pointed flat-handed towards the targets, then made a fist. A stream of particles hissed from the gauntlet and cut a ragged hole into the central torso at the end of the room. Hammerson relaxed his hand and the hissing stopped.
‘Fires between ten and fifty high-velocity ice projectiles per second,’ he said. ‘Number of deliveries depends on the available moisture in the atmosphere. We based the volume and speed on the metal storm concept — rapid continuous dispatch. The advantage of this device, other than its size, is that it doesn’t need to store its rounds — it actually creates them from the moisture in the air.’ He rubbed his shoulder. ‘Got a bit of a kick.’
He pointed to three separate units on the device. ‘Ignition and powerplant, projectile factory and, lastly, delivery. All miniaturised to under half an inch in height so there’s little physical bulk or weight.’
Alex placed his hand on the gauntlet. ‘Wow, cold. What about freeze burn?’
‘No chance — shielding on the inside. Though the powerplant uses a helium mix, which has a lower liquefaction temperature than nitrogen, it only starts the freeze on ignition. As soon as you press the ignition, a pellet gets punctured, allowing the chemicals to combine, and you’re ready to go. The pellets are under enormous pressure and have a dual action: they release the gas to snap-freeze and shape the moisture in the delivery chamber, then act as an explosive thrust to push the spike out — bit like a high-speed blowdart.’
Alex nodded. ‘Nice. What’s the capability duration?’
