Intuitions
Sinclair found Zach in his office, manipulating the remote that controlled the building’s roof camera. The feed to the wall-mounted monitor currently pointed over the lower buildings’ roofs and out to the gradual slope leading to the valley floor.
Zach glanced up. “I took the liberty of starting up the camera feed.”
Sinclair waited, wondering what was up, but knowing Zach would get to it. The scan moved to the east and up to the summit of Baldy Ridge, then followed the ridgeline to the north.
Finally, Zach turned to Sinclair. “I have a bad feeling,” Zach said with an emotionless voice.
“Based on something or just a feeling?”
“Let me take you through it. Eddie Wilcox went missing. He didn’t leave notice where he intended to go, but people say that when he was out for just a few hours, he usually headed up the side of Baldy Ridge, which is how he logged out. He’d told several coworkers he was methodically checking the slope for more signs of fossils. On the day we’re concerned with, he signed out for a few hours, expecting to be back in time for evening meal. No one noticed until his next shift, about fifteen hours later, that he hadn’t returned. As you know, we searched both sides of Baldy Ridge the entire eight-mile length, plus exhaustive searches out as much as fifteen or more miles from the site over the next several days. We never found any sign of him.”
“Well,” Sinclair said, “we assumed he must have either wandered totally off any possible search grid or fell into some pit or crevasse we didn’t find during the search. Either way, after a week, he must be dead. Besides hating to lose anyone so inexplicably, it hurt site morale. That’s one reason Bre has gone overboard on the equinox party tonight.” Sinclair paused. “But what else?”
Zach continued. “A few minutes ago, Lieutenant Montero mentioned one of his men thought he saw distant figures yesterday while they were south of here. Nothing confirmed, and no one else saw anything. The distance and light were such that they assumed it was just an optical trick. But then Sandra Chu said that she had heard that Nylander also thought he saw some figures on the Baldy skyline when he and some others were on one of their fossil hunts. The thing is, around those days I thought I caught a glimpse of a sunlight reflection from somewhere on the ridge. I checked with Romberg, and he doubts there is anything natural on that part of the ridge that would reflect sunlight.”
Sinclair thought he could see where Zach was heading. He didn’t like the direction. “And?”
Zach counted off additional points in a tone as if marking off fingers. “We’re in the middle of the shift from light to dark. Each day gets about an hour darker than the previous day. I understand that solar activity has interfered with our communications, and we could be cut off or have only sporadic connections for another few days. The weather forecast is for a front that might move in sometime in the next eighteen to thirty-six hours, possibly leaving two to five inches of snow, not enough to slow movement much, but plenty to cover any new tracks made in the next eighteen hours.”
Sinclair’s expression had steadily grown grimmer. “And your intuition says what?”
Zach looked up into Sinclair’s face. “The evidence is scanty, and I’d be hard-pressed to give a good defense, but my intuition is warning me something’s off. What? I couldn’t say.”
Sinclair took a seat on the couch against the wall. “Let me be honest. This feeling of yours might be nothing but your brain looking to construct the worst scenario out of disjointed facts.”
Zach shrugged. “Sure.”
That was one thing Sinclair appreciated about the CIA agent: Zach might give an opinion, but he never hesitated to acknowledge the possibility, perhaps even the likelihood, that he was wrong.
“Okay,” said Sinclair, “let’s assume for the sake of argument somebody or somebodies are out where they shouldn’t be. There are several serious but not dangerous possibilities. It could be scientists who’ve ignored the Canadian restrictions because they want to investigate around here . . . maybe for fossils. Maybe they’re reporters or other people who’ve found out there’s something secret going on here. That class of options needs to be addressed, though they’re not a physical danger.
“A worst case is people with hostile intent. Some nation or group somehow found us out. We know what they would be after. But why risk such an operation? The political and possible military consequences would be off the charts unpredictable. They would either have to figure the U.S. wouldn’t do anything about it or didn’t care about the consequences.”
Sinclair stood back up and paced the floor. “The most likely candidates would be Russia and China, with outside chances of North Korea or Iran. Independent groups would be highly unlikely because of logistics. Given the geographic proximity, Russia would seem the most likely.”
“I would favor the Chinese,” Zach said. “Russia is struggling to climb out of the economic mess caused by Putin’s handling of the economy. On the other hand, China is full of itself, thinking they’re on their way to matching the U.S. economically and militarily. If they somehow found out about the Object, they might be afraid the U.S. is learning things that would put a kibosh on China’s future plans. You know . . . America having access to technology they couldn’t hope to match. It’s the kind of situation that can lead to them taking risks otherwise deemed too extreme.”
“Well,” said Sinclair, “assuming this risk is real, I’m not sure what the hell it matters why it’s happening!”
“Hopefully, we can discuss it at some later date,” Zach offered.
Sinclair thought for a few moments. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. We need to confirm if anyone’s around who is a threat or not. Let me get Andrew in here.” Sinclair pulled out his pager and fingered the keys.
In the dining hall, Andrew was dancing with Bre. They had started talking about an hour ago and were interrupted only a couple of times for music Bre thought Andrew would dance to without panicking. He was more than casually aware of her warmth and shape during the close-proximity dances. They were in the middle of one of the rare slow dances and in a tight clasp. He had the urge to kiss her but wondered about her response when suddenly his pager began to vibrate.
He started, then released Bre and stepped back. “Sorry, I just got paged. Let me see what it is.”
Bre could have spit bricks, but she waited while he pulled out the pager and checked the message.
Andrew mumbled under his breath, then looked apologetically at Bre. “Sorry, duty calls.”
“Well, get your ‘sorry’ ass back here as soon as you can,” she teased.
What is so damn urgent that Sinclair wants me right away at this time? Especially THIS time! Andrew thought.
When he entered Sinclair’s office, he was surprised to see Zach already there, and the expressions on their faces erased Andrew’s irritation at the interruption. “Yes, sir. What’s up?”
“Zach here has brought a series of happenings to my attention, and we may have an urgent problem. Zach, summarize what you told me.”
Zach repeated the sequence of occurrences and happenstances he’d previously shared with Sinclair. Andrew saw that both Sinclair and Zach were taking the situation seriously, but he had his doubts. “Does this really seem likely? Not only would these people have had to find out about the Object, but they would have to be willing to take a tremendous risk. And for what? The Object can’t be moved, so the most they could achieve is information. Plus, we could erase the computer records by triggering the emergency wipe routines.”
“Yes,” said Sinclair, “the Object can’t be moved, but THEY might not know that. Plus, they may have calculated that an assault would take us by surprise, which would allow them to access the computers. They also could take captives back with them.”
Andrew pondered these possibilities for a moment, then spoke. “Alright, to be honest I don’t think this is really plausible, but it still needs to be checked out. I suggest I take the training crew back out
immediately and do a careful sweep to the south. The most likely approach would be the easiest route from the coast. I’m assuming a submarine insertion. That probably means from the south because the terrain east and west is so much more rugged to get to the sea.”
Zach spoke up. “Logan Porter and I should go, too. With due respect to Andrew and Lieutenant Montero’s men, Logan and I have more action experience in this sort of thing. Plus, we’ll take the two sniper rifles.”
“Agreed,” said Sinclair, “but Major Jefferson will be in charge.” Sinclair turned to Andrew. “You need to be in charge in case orders have to be given to the men, which might not fly well when given by someone not in the chain of command.”
Andrew and Zach understood the logic and also the implication of what such orders might entail.
“However, listen to Zach,” said Sinclair. “Any action will be at your discretion but make use of his experience.”
Andrew nodded. He would have done that anyway, but he appreciated that Sinclair was laying out the operational organization of this patrol to prevent misunderstandings.
“You have two missions. One is to confirm the existence of intruders and whether they represent a threat. If you find nothing, then no harm done—just some extra exercise and elevated heart rates. If it’s trespassers who shouldn’t be around, we’ll figure out how to handle them. However, if a genuine threat is identified, the ONLY priority is to get the information back here. If the threat materializes, you can consider any option consistent with giving the site more time to prepare, as long as we are warned, and consistent with getting as many of you back here as possible. You’ll have a radio, but solar interference has been strong all day. Use your discretion on whether to split your eight into two four-man parties to cover more ground.”
“Should we wait until tomorrow morning to head out?” asked Andrew. “It’s already heavy twilight, and it’ll soon be too dark to see where we’re going in this terrain. Plus, with the heavy cloud cover just passing, we couldn’t see a herd of musk ox until we bumped into them.”
“I’m afraid you’re right,” said Zach. “It’s going to be tough even under tomorrow’s best light. If there are people out there, they picked the right time of year. I think the best we can do is get a few hours’ sleep and be on the way tomorrow as soon as it’s light enough to see our own feet. That’ll give us sixteen to seventeen hours of light, with maybe twelve of those hours of having enough light to see anything at a distance.
“One more thing. I agree the most likely approach is from the south, but we can’t ignore other possibilities. I suggest Willie and Houdini take a few people—two or three—and do short sweeps east and west. North seems too remote a possibility. They should only go out a few miles before returning.”
“All right,” said Sinclair, “I’ll get them on it. I’ll have the communications people keep checking connections. As of earlier today, there were sporadic disruptions due to the atmospherics and the damn solar activity.”
Sinclair waved them out. “You two get that sleep. You’re going to need it. Major, on the way out, grab Montero and warn him about prepping his men. They’ll want to know what’s up, but pull rank and make it a command. Other than that, no reason to alert more staff than necessary that you’re going out.”
Sinclair paused, then continued. “I’ll take a few precautions here, but given the low probability of a threat, we’ll keep it low level until we hear otherwise from you. Any questions?”
Andrew and Zach looked at each other, but neither spoke.
“Okay then, get to it.”
As soon as the two men left his office, Sinclair paged Houdini, Willie, and Whitey. The simple device had only two settings besides identifying the sender: “See me when it’s convenient” and “Drop everything you’re doing and get your ass over here ASAP.” It took four minutes for the last of the three to arrive—Whitey, who had been taking a crap in Dorm 2. Willie arrived as his usual inscrutable self. Houdini had a quizzical expression, wondering at the reason for the summons.
Sinclair got right to the point. “There may be unknown persons in the vicinity of the site. We don’t know who they are, what their intentions may be, or even if they exist. Major Jefferson, Zach, and Logan Porter will go out with Lieutenant Montero’s unit to check the south tomorrow morning. I’ve ordered them to get some sleep before they go.
“Whitey, once the patrol leaves, I want you to open the weapons locker and stand by until we know more. Houdini, I’ll want you to pick two men, get armed, plus take some optics and a radio, and head up Baldy Ridge to the top and do a 135-degree sweep clockwise. Willie, you do the same counterclockwise. Hustle, and don’t be gone more than an hour. Radio here if you see anything worth reporting.”
“Uh . . . that may be a problem,” said Willie. “Last I heard there was still solar interference.”
“It should mainly be an issue with long-range communications,” said Houdini. “We’ll be in line of sight or not that far away, so it should punch through any interference.”
“If you have something to report and can’t get through on the radio, then get back here as fast as you can,” said Sinclair.”
Houdini spoke up. “Any info on who these might be? How many? Intentions?”
“Nothing,” said Sinclair as he fingered a certain key with his left hand in a pants pocket.
“Why do you think anyone’s out here at all or that they might be hostiles?” Houdini asked.
Sinclair gave a slight, humorless grin and replied softly, “Zach has a bad feeling.”
Whitey snorted. “That’s it? Just a bad feeling?” He turned to the other two men and started to laugh until he saw their solemn faces.
“I’ve heard about Marjek’s feelings,” offered Houdini, turning to Willie. “You’ve worked with him before. Is it true?”
In a slow, punctuated manner, Willie said, “If Zach has a feeling about something, you better pay attention. I don’t know how the hell it works, but you’d think he’s got some kinda ESP.”
Houdin nodded. “That’s what I’ve heard.” He then turned back to Sinclair. “I take it we’re not to let any of this pass on to the other staff except those we take with us?”
“Correct,” replied Sinclair. “I repeat that this is only a precaution until we have more information. I doubt we have a direct danger to the site. Even if there is someone out there, it could be anyone from nomadic Inuits to a bunch of eco-tourists who’ve wandered off their approved movement plan they had to file with the Canadians.”
The others seemed skeptical of those possibilities, and rightfully so because there was little reason for Inuits to be on this part of Ellesmere at this time of year. Neither was it likely a trekking group had traveled this far from any plausible base camp.
“All right,” said Sinclair. “Same as I told Jefferson and Zach . . . get a little sleep and head out first thing tomorrow. I’ll be here in the main building checking on the communications status. Any questions?”
Willie shook his head, “No, but is this enough? If Zach is worried, I’d be worried, too, if I was you. What about the rest of the staff doing something?”
“Like what?” asked Houdini. “Not like they can go anywhere if there’s a danger.” He turned Sinclair. “What about identifying anyone here with firearms experience? You know. Just in case.”
Sinclair shook his head. “I appreciate the concern, and I’ll be going over personnel records to identify candidates to be armed, but until we know more, I don’t want to risk raising the curiosity level of the whole staff. Also, to be honest, I haven’t worked with Zach before, so I have to go with my own gut that this is likely nothing more than a false alarm, albeit an honest one.”
Willie shook his head. “Okay, but we’ll see.”
Landing, Nine Hours Earlier
From the edge of land that dropped forty feet to sloshing waves, Major Peng watched as the submarine’s launch landed the last of his men on a narrow rocky beach. The first ma
n off the launch’s final trip was already headed up the collapsed rock slope to where the earlier arrivals waited to move out. Peng planned a fifteen-kilometer trek to a boulder field in a mountain’s shadow where the men would sleep. The men’s clothing and camouflaged thermal blankets would make them almost invisible, even from directly overhead.
The men had been cooped up in the submarine without doing more than in-place calisthenics for so long, their joints and muscles needed a good stretch. He expected the coming march over broken terrain would provide that, and they would sleep well with their heads covered to help deceive their brains that it was nighttime. Each man would take a pill to promote sleep. This would ensure that the commandos were as rested as possible when Peng woke them. Then they would eat and cover the last kilometers to hit the base at midday.
The last man was only two steps onto land when the launch crew pushed off from shore. The craft headed full speed back toward the submarine. Peng shouted orders, the waiting men rose, and they started off single file northward, four squads of twelve men each led by a captain, with no member of a lower rank than sergeant. Peng retained control of the fifth squad of weapons: two machine guns, RPGs, and satchel charges. All of the men had been carefully selected for their physical condition, intelligence, unquestioned loyalty to the Party, and lack of wives or children. Peng met the same qualifications. He had never questioned the assignment. The Party was to be served to the best of his ability without question, though he was aware that awards and advancements would wait for him if they succeeded. If they failed, they would have done their duty to the best of their abilities, and the Party would move on without them, as was proper.
Harbinger (The Janus Harbinger Book 1) Page 49
