by Siegel, Alex
"Not possible. We spent two days looking at maps and photographs of this entire area. You even confirmed the coordinates with me this morning. I saw the Camp Zonta sign with my own eyes. We are in exactly the place you told us to be. If anybody is an incompetent asshole, it's you!"
Colonel Rosecrans walked over with a curious expression. Hanley tapped his phone.
After a pause, Xavier said, "You actually saw a sign?"
"Yes," Hanley said. "Welcome to Camp Zonta, the funnest fun in Wisconsin."
"That sounds right." Xavier's voice was quiet.
"Then tell me what the hell is going on. What did we just destroy?"
"I'm not sure, but this is bad. It's very bad. You only get one shot at the Gray Spear Society at most. If you blow it, you're completely fucked. Get the hell out of there while you can."
"Give me a break," Hanley said. "The entire Unit is here, and we're more than ready for a fight. We'll leave when we're good and ready."
"Listen, this whole thing is starting to smell like a giant trap. The Society could already be closing on your position. Go, now. You're in tremendous danger."
Hanley looked around but didn't see any movement in the woods. The night was silent except for the diesel engines of the M113's. "We can take them."
"I've already told you a dozen times. They aren't human! You have no idea..."
"Shut up. Your raving paranoid bullshit makes you sound like an idiot."
"You shut up," Xavier said. "You have to listen to me for once. These people are monsters with blackened souls. They're living weapons. They exist for just one purpose: killing. You're going to find that out the hard way if you keep screwing around. Get away from there!"
"In due time," Hanley replied through clenched teeth.
Xavier sighed. "You're hopeless. I need to think. I'll call tomorrow morning, if you're still alive then."
Hanley put away his phone.
"What was that about?" Rosecrans said.
"My contact," Hanley said. "Apparently, we just destroyed the wrong target. The Society isn't here."
"No, we destroyed the right target based on wrong intelligence."
"Either way, we have a situation. We need to go in there and see if any civilians were killed." Hanley shook his head. "What a God damn mess."
"Should we send in the whole Unit or just a search party?" Rosecrans said.
"I didn't see any security before, and I'm sure there's even less now. Let's just use the carriers. The rest of the men can start to pack up and get ready to leave. At least it's not late. We should be able to get a reasonable amount of sleep tonight."
They gave out the orders. The column of soldiers broke up, and there was disappointment on their faces.
Hanley and Rosecrans climbed into an M113. The interior was crowded with men and equipment, and there were no empty seats. The two commanders just stood in the middle of the enclosed space. Hanley's knee was throbbing and he really wanted to sit, but it was more important not to show weakness in front of his men. There would be time for sitting later. He grabbed a metal railing on the ceiling.
The carrier started off with a rumble and a rattle. It climbed up a hill and rolled down the other side. There were no windows, but Hanley knew the terrain well enough to imagine where he was. He listened for the sound of gunfire but only heard the ancient engine struggling to move twelve tons of steel and aluminum. He smelled diesel fumes.
The short trip ended without incident. The rear hatch opened, and Hanley eagerly climbed out.
"The mortars did their job," Rosecrans observed.
Hanley nodded. "And then some."
The central part of the camp was completely destroyed. The main building had become an enormous bonfire which burned so fiercely the heat forced him to stay back. If anybody was inside, they were dead now.
Hanley didn't hear any cries for help or moans of pain. Nothing moved aside from his men. Some of the lights in the outer buildings were still on, which suggested people might be around. Hanley spotted a silhouette on a curtain in one of the windows.
He drew his side arm and cautiously approached. He signaled for his men to enter the cabin. Two of them stood on either side of the door and a third kicked it down. They rushed in together.
After a moment, one of the soldiers said, "Sir, you can come in now."
Hanley entered the cabin. A cardboard cutout of a man had cast the silhouette. Nobody was actually in there.
Rosecrans came in and said, "It's a decoy. We were supposed to think the camp was inhabited. Your contact was played for a fool, and we wasted a lot of ammunition. Good thing we didn't pay for it." He cracked a smile.
Hanley went back outside and noticed a big sign behind the front gate. Words were painted in black letters that read, "Make your peace with God. All of you are dead."
He frowned.
His phone rang. He didn't recognize the number, but he answered the call anyway. He was curious.
"Hello?"
"Is this Race Hanley?" It was a woman's voice but he didn't recognize it.
"Yes. Who is this?"
"I was just informed you're inside Camp Zonta. That's a very bad place to be."
"Who are you?" Hanley said.
"If you're lucky, all those bombs you dropped knocked out the worst of the traps, but I'm sure plenty of them are still active. If you want to survive, you'll have to follow my instructions precisely. Don't move an inch unless I tell you to. Most of the traps are well hidden."
"Why are you helping me?"
"Normally, I wouldn't," the mysterious woman said. "I'd let you die and say good riddance. But you have a meeting tonight and it's my job to get you there, which means I need you alive for at least a few more hours. I'm going to walk you out, one step at a time."
"A meeting with who?" Hanley said.
"Just tell me your exact position. Try to be as precise as possible."
He heard a choking noise. He looked over and saw four soldiers stumbling out of a cabin about fifty yards away. They were clutching at their throats.
"Gas!" Hanley yelled. "Watch out! Gas!"
The four men collapsed and became still.
"Don't get distracted," the woman on the phone said. "Tell me your position, quickly."
"How do you know about the traps?" Hanley said. "Are you with the Gray Spear Society?"
"Can you just follow instructions, please? I'm trying to save your life, and you're not cooperating. You really are in great danger."
He didn't know what to do. He certainly didn't trust this woman.
A soldier fell through a trap door in the ground. Hanley heard a brief cry of pain and then nothing. He ran over. The soldier was impaled on steel spikes at the bottom of a pit.
Hanley yelled into his phone, "My men are dying!"
"Yes," the woman said, "exactly. What did you think would happen? Did you honestly believe we'd let you take us by surprise? That you could just kill us as you pleased? If you knew the first thing about the Spears, you'd know how monumentally stupid that notion is. Now, are you ready to start listening to me, or do you really want to die?"
"Everybody, back in the carriers!" he yelled at his men. "We're getting out of here, now!"
The soldiers began to converge on the M113's.
"That won't work," the woman said calmly.
"Why not?"
"There are mines under the road."
"We drove in that way," Hanley said.
"They're not set to stop people from getting in."
Rosecrans ran over to Hanley and said, "Who are you talking to?"
Hanley covered the phone with his hand. "Some woman who claims she knows where the traps are."
"How?" Rosecrans raised his eyebrows. "Is she with the enemy?"
"I think so." Hanley nodded.
He counted heads and realized two soldiers were missing. He spotted two new corpses. They were so badly charred even their body armor and helmets were burned. Hanley had come with twenty men and he w
as already down to thirteen.
"We need to get out of here," Rosecrans said in an urgent tone.
"She told me the road is mined."
The colonel stared at the dark dirt road. "It seems your contact wasn't the only fool tonight. Of course, she could be lying to keep us from escaping."
"We could try the road, but we'd be gambling with our lives."
"It's a gamble either way."
Hanley took a deep breath. He was desperately searching for the right answer, but none were coming to mind. Eventually, he settled on the only answer that made sense to him.
"I'll let this woman guide me. I want everybody else behind me, including you. Follow my lead. Do exactly what I do. If it works, we'll all get out alive."
"And if it doesn't, we'll all die," Rosecrans said.
"No. I'll lead the way and prove the route is safe. You follow at a distance. If I die, then you can try the road."
The colonel stared at Hanley. "I'll give you points for bravery. It's not something I would ask anybody else to do, but you're the chief. Nobody is going to tell you it's a sure way to commit suicide. Lead on."
Hanley put his phone against his ear. "We'll try it your way."
"Finally!" the woman said. "Where are you?"
"About thirty meters north-east of the main building."
"I think I can picture that. If you look to your west, you should see a large tree."
"I do," Hanley said.
"Walk past it on the right side. Not the left, and stay away from the buildings. All of them will kill you. The traps are active now."
He obeyed the instructions. Colonel Rosecrans and the rest of the men followed in a straight line behind Hanley. There was about twenty meters of separation. It seemed like a safe enough distance.
"I'm past the tree," Hanley said into the phone. "Now what?"
"You'll have to crawl for a while," the woman said. "There are wires at chest height which are almost too thin to see. They're carrying a thousand volts. Continue going west until you get near a light pole."
He got down onto the frozen dirt and gravel. His bad knee protested the awkward position, and the pain was enough to bring tears to his eyes. He put it out of his mind just like every other time.
As he crawled, he looked for wires. He saw a few swaying in the light breeze, and they were as thin as hairs. He wouldn't have seen them if he hadn't been warned.
A popping noise made him look back. One of the soldiers was lying flat on his face. Apparently, he had touched a wire.
"Is he OK?" Hanley yelled.
Another soldier checked the body and shook his head.
Hanley gritted his teeth. "Be more fucking careful! Do exactly what I do!" He kept crawling.
After a short time, he arrived at a concrete light pole. He sat to get the pressure off his knee and put the phone against his ear. "What's next?"
"There are poison tack strips further to the west," the woman said. "Go directly north instead, but keep your eyes open and walk very carefully. There are tripwires attached to grenades."
"How many damned traps are there?"
"We were having fun. Maybe we got a little carried away."
"You people are very sick," Hanley said.
"Let's not forget who tried to drop bombs on whom tonight. Keep moving."
He stood and rubbed his knee to get the blood circulating in the joint. He headed north. Before each footstep, he leaned over and carefully inspected the ground ahead. He started finding the wires. They were made of a clear monofilament that was almost impossible to see.
"Careful!" he yelled at the men behind him. "Walk in my footprints! Tripwires and grenades!" He put the phone against his ear. "How far do I go?"
"Who were you just talking to?" the woman said.
"My men, of course. They're following me. Did you expect me to leave them behind?"
She sighed. "It won't matter I guess. Keep walking north until you come to an old wooden fence."
He was slowly becoming convinced she was really saving his life. This certainly wasn't the behavior he expected from a terrorist. Maybe she was leading him into an even more elaborate trap. He needed to keep his head on a swivel.
"How did you get this phone number?"
"How do you think?" she said.
He thought for a moment. "It's the number Xavier used."
"Bingo."
"You know about Xavier!"
"Obviously," she said.
He had to warn Xavier immediately! He put the woman on hold and dialed Xavier's number. It rang once before he answered.
"Run!" Hanley yelled. "Get out of there before they kill you!"
"It's me again," the strange woman said calmly.
"What?" He stared at his phone. "How?"
"We can control the phone system. Xavier will only receive the calls we want him to receive, and you will only place the calls we want you to place. Are you near the fence, yet? Don't touch it."
Hanley was approaching a fence made of wooden poles. The pieces were stacked without the use of nails. Judging by the poor condition of the wood, the fence had been here for a very long time.
"I'm there," he said.
"The fence is smeared with a powerful neurotoxin gel," she said. "If you put your bare hand on it, you'll die. Throw a jacket or something over the fence so you can cross safely. That's the quickest way out."
He didn't want to take off his heavy coat. It was too cold. The rotting wood gave him a better idea. He gave the fence some swift kicks to knock it down and walked across the fallen poles. The thick soles of his boots would protect him, but he would have to throw the boots away the next chance he got.
He reached a snowy field on the other side and spoke into his phone. "I'm across."
"Great," the woman said. "Go straight up the hill to the top, but stay off the road. The grass should be safe, I think."
"Should be?"
"Just in case, I wouldn't walk on any shadows."
Hanley heard somebody fall behind him. One of the soldiers had stumbled on the loose fence poles. His hands were resting on the wood.
"Get up!" Hanley yelled. "Quick! Wash your hands with snow!"
The soldier scrambled to rub his hands on the snow. At first there were no symptoms, and Hanley thought he might be fine. Then, the soldier started breathing rapidly and his eyes bulged.
"One of my men is poisoned!" Hanley said to the woman. "What do I do?"
"Last rights," she replied in a disinterested tone.
"Bitch!"
"Death waits beyond this point. That wasn't clear enough? And let's not forget who gave the orders for this suicide mission. You're ultimately responsible for every casualty tonight. Maybe next time you won't be so arrogant and stupid."
He squeezed his phone in anger.
The soldier was turning blue and could only make tiny gasps. The other men tried CPR, but it obviously wasn't working. Hanley turned away. Finally, the horrible noises ended.
Colonel Rosecrans came up to him. "We have to keep moving."
"This is a disaster," Hanley muttered.
"Yes, but we're not out of the woods, yet, literally."
Hanley nodded and started walking up the hill. "Follow me."
The long climb was brutal on his already aggravated knee. By the time he reached the top, he was limping. He couldn't help himself. The rest of the men followed, and they didn't run into any more traps.
Hanley turned and faced Camp Zonta. Fires were still burning brightly. Some of the corpses were lying in the open under the moonlight. The Unit would have to come back for the bodies when he figured out how to retrieve them safely.
He spoke into his phone, "I'm on the hill."
"That means you're safe," the woman said. "Enjoy the fireworks. I'll see you later tonight." The call ended.
Fireworks?
Hanley began to feel vibrations in the ground. Suddenly, a long series of huge explosions ripped through the camp. Orange fireballs rose up like giant b
urning mushrooms. Debris was thrown far into the night sky. He had to cover his eyes with his arm to protect them from the shower of dust.
When the smoke cleared, he saw that Camp Zonta was completely gone. There was just overturned dirt and ash now. Even the M113's had disappeared, although the wreckage had to be somewhere. There was no sign of the Unit's fallen men.
"We were standing on a giant bomb," Hanley said. "She could've killed us at any time."
"Apparently," Rosecrans replied.
"Why didn't she?" Hanley faced the colonel.
"Good question. You probably won't like the answer when you get it."
"She promised to see me later. It seems I'll have a meeting with somebody tonight."
Rosecrans raised his eyebrows. "We need to get you away from here. Now."
"Let's not panic over a vague threat." Hanley shook his head.
The colonel looked at the vast field of smoking dirt that had once been Camp Zonta. "I don't think the threat is vague at all. Not in the least."
Chapter Eleven
Xavier walked slowly through the woods back to Camp Zonta. He needed to make an appearance at the banquet. Obviously, he would spend more time at this convention than he had anticipated. He didn't want his absence to become a topic of speculation.
His alternative was attempting to flee right now. That would be a huge decision. He would be running for the rest of his life, however long it lasted. He had heard stories of other people who had tried to escape the wrath of the Gray Spear Society. In all cases the adventure hadn't ended well for them. Even though Xavier had tremendous abilities and dozens of successful missions under his belt, he wasn't certain he would do much better.
Fleeing only made sense if he had been caught. At this point, he had no evidence that had happened. Hanley attacking the wrong camp was a very disturbing and inexplicable event, but it didn't automatically imply the game was over. Aside from missing the first course of dinner, Xavier had done nothing to incriminate himself. He was inclined to stick around a while longer. Maybe he could still turn this opportunity to his advantage.
He wore a heavy winter coat and mittens, but the cold was still painful. It really stung his nose and eyes. He had always thought ski masks looked ridiculous, but he wanted one now. All exposed skin needed to be covered in this kind of weather.
