by Basil Sands
“Did he tell you anything about what they were doing?”
“No, sir, but when I pressed him on it, he said t it may be related to the two Albanian guys.”
“I’m going to get the Feds.”
Chapter 19
Training Area
Eielson Air Force Base, Alaska
18 December
20:30 Hours
Marcus led Wasner’s SEAL team on the trail until they came to the point at which he had stopped earlier that morning. The men dismounted their snowmobiles and spread out in a defensive perimeter. They crouched in the snow for fifteen minutes, weapons at shoulder-height, acclimating to the silence around them as they scanned the forest through their night vision glasses.
Wasner’s team carried an assortment of firearms, including Heckler & Koch MP5 10mm submachine guns and COLT M-4 Carbines, both with silencers attached. Two of the SEALs carried high-powered sniper rifles, one a suppressed Heckler & Koch PSG-1 strictly for use against animate targets, and the other, a suppressed Barret Model 82A1 .50 caliber. The fifty-caliber rifle uses an armor-piercing projectile the size of a man’s index finger and has an effective range of 1800 meters. It is technically (and according to international military treaties) only to be used against motorized vehicles or for breaching fortifications. It was not designed for use against flesh-and-bone creatures, like humans. This law was seldom observed on the battlefield.
All weapons were wrapped in white tape along most of their length, revealing only small patches of the black metal of the sights and receivers.
Once satisfied that no one had seen them, Marcus rose from the snow without a sound. The others followed his cue. He spoke softly into the radio headset.
“There was a sniper position up ahead earlier this morning. Be aware that he may still be there or may have moved to a better location. We should see his heat signature through the night vision, but just in case, be ready.”
The men quietly moved forward. Small, oblong snowshoes kept them high on the surface of the dry, powdery snow. Marcus took point. The others fanned out in two lines of seven men each, with three yards between each man and five yards between each line.
Snow glistened in the shimmering pale glow of the moon. The light reflected against the trees and sent randomly skewed shadows in all directions. They crept through the trees in silence until Marcus gave the signal to stop. He motioned to Wasner, in the first line of SEALS. The chief moved up beside him.
“Over there.” Marcus pointed to the left, about thirty yards in front of them.
“That mound is where the sniper was this morning. He seems to have moved, though. There’s no heat signature around it. The work site is about fifty yards past it.”
Wasner spoke into his radio mike. “Scan the area for heat—we’re almost on them.”
The team crouched in the snow. They peered through the night vision glasses, meticulously scanning in all directions. Satisfied that there was no one within sight, they rose and moved forward. They came within thirty yards of the site when the muffled sound of distant voices drifted through the forest.
A whisper came over the headsets. “Heat signature fifty yards to the left. Single person.”
Marcus looked over and saw the man in the distance. The dim yellow glow of his body stood erect, facing away from the camp. A bright white line, hot and steamy looking, arced directly out of his midsection. The snow in front of him glowed a fading yellow.
The man finished, zipped his snowsuit, and turned back to the camp. The SEAL team remained still as stones and watched him return. A voice called out from somewhere behind them, making their collective hearts jump their chests.
A figure moved up quickly behind them. He was carrying a Kalashnikov sniper rifle and walking through the snow toward the work site.
The man who had just finished urinating turned in the direction of the sniper. He raised his hand and started walking toward his comrade, straight in the direction of the SEAL team.
They dared not even exhale. The man moved into the midst of their group. Not wearing night vision, he had not seen the SEALS as they hunkered down low into the snow. The SEAL’s white smocks and the random twists of brush and tree branches that jutted up from the frozen surface concealed them almost completely.
The men met in the middle of the two lines of SEALS. They stopped and began a conversation in Korean.
“Comrade, why didn’t you answer the radio?”
“My batteries must have frozen. I didn’t hear anything. “
“It is time to come in. The captain has found what we came for, and we are going to leave early. He already sent Team 1 back to the pickup area with one case, and he is packing up the second now.”
“Good, I am ready to leave. I can’t feel my feet anymore. I hope those four don’t use up all the hot water before we get back to Mr. Kim’s house. It is too cold here, worse than the mountains at home.”
“Maybe, but here, at least they have rabbits and other animals to eat, not like home where the mountains are nothing but rocks. I still taste that rabbit stew.”
“It would have been better if we had some kimchi to put with it.”
“Yes, but then the Americans would certainly have found you, when your hot, spicy kimchi farts drifted into the city.”
The sniper laughed and replied, “Yes, but that would have at least kept me warm, with all that heat inside my snowsuit. Besides, it would have been a good chemical weapon, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, even better than this stuff we are taking from the Americans. Maybe we didn’t need to come here at all. We could have just told the Glorious Leader to bottle your farts and drop them on the Americans. It would burn their eyes out, then we could make them all work in factories for us until we are rich!”
The two men laughed and started back to camp together. As they walked the sniper glanced around with a pensive look.“I think a herd of animals must have come through here. The snow has been disturbed all around us.”
“I am surprised Sergeant Soo didn’t see them on his side, ” the first man said.
“I didn’t see anything, ” replied the sniper, “but I have heard that caribou move very silently. A thousand of them could walk by and you wouldn’t even know it. My uncle was stationed in Siberia in the eighties. He saw giant herds of caribou that he said walked like ghosts.”
“Maybe. Whatever it was, I didn’t see anything. But there sure are a lot of tracks through here.”
One more step, and the sniper’s snowshoe came down on Petty Officer 3rd Class Miller’s leg. The soldier’s snowshoe twisted. He lost his balance and stumbled forward, toppling into the snow. A soft grunt escaped Miller’s throat. The startled North Korean soldiers raised their weapons toward the sound.
Several hoarse puffs of hot air broke through the night and the two North Koreans crumpled into the snow, dead before they fell. Dark spots of their blood sprayed across the bright whiteness of the snow and on Miller.
Miller and the SEAL nearest him, PO1 Clark, made sure the two were dead, then stuffed their bodies deep into the snow.
“Let’s move. We’ll come back and check them for documents later,” whispered Chief Wasner.
Marcus spoke into his mike. “Wazzy, I could only understand part, but they said something about chemical weapons down there.”
“Forester,” called Wasner, “you’re the Korean linguist here. What did they say?”
PO1 Forester translated a summary of what he heard, then added, “Sounds like we know why they came all this way, Chief.”
“Well, boys, let’s go play tag with these commie bastards, said the chief, then added introspectively, “Commie bastards…now, that’s a retro kinda phrase, ain’t it, Mojo?”
“Wazzy,” Marcus whispered as he moved forward, “You are the definition of retro.”
The men moved forward quickly now, ready for an assault.
As they drew to within ten yards of the place Marcus had been earlier in the day, one of th
e SEALS whispered into his radio. He spotted a man in a concealed position. The heat signature of the man glowed softly from under a mound of snow.
“Jeez, that guy must be cold,” whispered PO2 Herold. “He ain’t glowing too bright.”
“Well, how about you turn his heat off, Herold, my boy,” replied the chief.
“With extreme prejudice, Chief.”
A harsh puff erupted from Herold’s suppressed Barrett .50 caliber. A fountain of flesh blood burst out of the emplacement. A cloud of steam rose from the open flesh of the corpse.
The team moved to the edge of the clearing and peered down the slope to the open work area beneath. Two men stood above the hole in the ground. At least one man was visible in the hole, and by the way he stood, it looked like another man was in there as well, below him.
All movement abruptly stopped. The darkness above them suddenly brightened as the aurora borealis, commonly known as the northern lights, stretched across the sky in a mystical dance of lights and patterns. All attention was drawn to the green, red, and blue glowing as the aurora spun and danced above them, spreading from horizon to horizon like angels dancing among the stars, throwing beams of colored light back and forth. A band of light erupted into motion like the strings of a thousand-mile-wide harp being played by the invisible fingers of God’s own hand.
The North Korean soldiers all stared up into the sky with oohs and aahs. Childlike expressions of wonder spread across their faces.
“All right, kiddies. Enough staring at the heavenly artwork.” Wasner whispered into the radio headset, “The Good Lord is giving us a diversion to get in position. Look for any other guards around the perimeter. There should be at least one or two more. Philips and Stingle, you guys have your Tasers, right?”
“Yes, Chief,” they both replied.
“We need to take a couple alive. Try to figure out who the officers or senior NCO’s may be and take at least one of them, if possible. But any one of them probably knows enough to catch their accomplices. Spread out around this opening and let’s wait till we verify how many there are before we jump them.”
As he spoke, a man stepped from the far edge of the clearing and walked toward the open area beneath. He spoke out loud to the others below. Forester translated softly into his mike. “Team one is away.”
“Good,” said the man standing in the hole. “Let’s load the gear and move out of here. We have a lot of walking to do in order to get back to the vehicles.”
The man in the hole looked down, then disappeared beneath the lip of the opening. A moment later, he stood back up and handed a box of something to one of the two men who stood at the top. He reached up and one of the others helped him to the surface. The one who was walking down toward them called out.
“Captain Park, Sergeant Soo is coming in, but I cannot reach Kil and Pak. Hwang is also not responding.”
“Tell Soo to find them on his way in. We must leave immediately.”
Staff Sergeant Beckwith spoke into the radio. “There’s movement behind me to the southwest of the clearing. One man approaching.”
“Must be Sergeant Soo,” Marcus replied.
“Kill him,” Chief Wasner ordered.
Beckwith, from his hide beside a tall cluster of alders, slowly turned his suppressed M-4 toward the North Korean sergeant. He aimed carefully and acquired a perfect sight picture of the man’s head on the peg at the end of the barrel. Beckwith slowly curled his finger around the trigger. He exhaled slowly as he squeezed.
An explosion of movement suddenly erupted above his head. A large white owl burst out of the branches in which it had been silently perched. The loud flapping startled the Marine as he fired the shot. The bullet went high. A puff of white foam stuffing burst from a small tear the shot made as it scraped against the outer shell of the soldier’s parka hood.
Soo, also startled by the bird, heard the rifle’s puff. He felt the heat of the bullet zip by his head, tugging at his hood as it passed. He spun in the direction of the bird and saw the movement of Beckwith’s body as he adjusted back into position to fire a second shot.
“Ambush!” the Korean shouted to his comrades. “We are being ambushed!”
He raised his rifle to fire on the Marine. Beckwith fired a three-round burst. The bullets tore into the soldier’s torso. Soo’s body jerked in a spasmodic death dance.
The dying man’s finger squeezed around the trigger on his rifle as the rounds smashed into him. His shot tore branches from the alders above Beckwith.
Soo dropped to his knees in the snow and raised his rifle again to try another shot before the life drained out of him. Staff Sergeant Beckwith didn’t give him another chance. He fired another three-round burst directly into the hooded head of the man. The top of Soo’s head burst in a shower of blood, brains, and parka stuffing. His body slammed backwards into the snow as if the North Korean soldier had been hit in the face by a giant hammer.
All hell broke loose in the clearing. The North Korean soldiers raised their weapons and fired into the perimeter around them. The SEALS returned fire with rapid, surgical precision. In less than twenty seconds, all of the men in the clearing were down. The one that had been in the hole was still alive, the only one not in the line of fire.
Marcus, Wasner, and four of the SEALS closed in on the clearing. Four of the SEALs covered them while the rest of the team scouted the area for survivors.
“Philips,” Wasner called out, “get that Taser ready. I want this guy alive.”
“Aye, aye, sir” replied Philips. He reached into his pocket and grabbed the handle of the sinister-looking black plastic stun gun. When he flipped the switch, the Taser hummed menacingly with its own life force.
The bodies of the dead men lay strewn about. Their limbs splayed at odd angles as the blood that flowed from their wounds coagulated on the ground into already freezing puddles.
The men circled the hole, weapons pointed into the opening. Philips held his Taser up and ready to fire as they drew near.
Forester called out in Korean, “Raise your hands and come out of the hole!”
A lengthy silence followed.
“Miller, fire a warning shot against the wall of the hole.” Wasner said.
A single round exploded against the sidewall. A shower of frozen dirt and ice sprayed outward from the impact.
Inside the hole, Sergeant Choi cried out. The rock-hard ice cut into his flesh.
Forester called out in Korean. “Raise your hands and come out, or we will shoot again.”
Slowly, two gloved hands rose above the opening of the hole, followed by a hooded head.
“Don’t shoot, I am coming out. I need to use my hands on the ladder.”
“Is there anyone else down there?”
“No, there is no one else. I am alone. It is the truth.”
“Come up the ladder.”
Sergeant Choi put his hands down to the rail of the ladder and started to climb up. As he was coming, he slipped a hand into his pocket. He moved quickly, trying to pull his hand out fast.
Wasner shouted, “Philips, hit him!”
Philips pulled the trigger on the Taser, sending the two high-voltage electric wires flying toward the North Korean’s body. The prongs pierced through his jacket and touched his flesh. The contact created a circuit for the 25,000-volt charge to explode through Choi’s body. A bright light flashed from inside his coat and Choi convulsed violently, then fell face down to the ground just outside the hole. His body twitched erratically from the shock.
Forester reached down and checked his pulse. “He’s still alive and well, but he’s going to have a massive headache in a little while.”
Miller rolled him over onto his back and carefully pulled out the hand that had gone into the pocket. Choi’s fingers were wrapped around a small glass vial, just larger than a standard high school chemistry lab test tube, topped with a rubber stopper and filled with a clear yellow liquid.
“This must be the stuff they were mi
ning for.” He handed it up to Wasner.
The stopper was sealed with a hard, waxy substance. Wasner handed it to Marcus and said, “Looks like some kind of chemical or biological agent. Must’ve been buried here ages ago.”
“They said another team had gotten away already before we arrived on scene. We’d better get out of here and catch up with them.” Forrester said.
Wasner called to the rest of his men on the radio. “Fletcher, you guys get back to the snowmobiles and see if you can catch up with the ones who got away. They probably had a vehicle, a truck or van of some kind, back on the road. If you don’t find them by the time you get to Mojo’s house, wait for us there. We’re going to take the prisoner and make our way back as well.”
Fletcher replied, “Aye, aye, Chief. Let’s move it, boys!”
Wasner took a black plastic box from his coat pocket. He removed a spare set of lenses for his night vision goggles from its foam rubber-padded interior and put them in his inside coat pocket. Then he put the vial into the space the lenses had occupied—it was a good-enough fit. The box shut with a snap and he sealed it by twisting a small latch at its lip, then he put it back into his pocket.
The team ran the fifteen hundred yards across the snow back to the trail. Ten minutes later, they piled on their snowmobiles.
The swirling lights of the aurora still danced over their heads as they jetted back up the trail toward the road in the moonlit night.
Chapter 20
Flashback
Thursday, May 14th, 1998
Two Miles Northeast of Bukurana Mission
Sierra Leone, Africa
19:15 Hours
The Marines formed a defensive perimeter several meters into the jungle upon landing. The squad leaders gathered around Lieutenant Reeves, the twenty-six year-old Welsh officer in command of 2nd Troop. He scanned the map to gain their bearings and verify the direction of the mission village. Reeves folded the map and stuffed it into the pocket of his tunic.
