The Void

by Greig Beck

  Alex shrugged. “Getting to the mountain, maybe only three to four hours. But getting to the cusp where the Orlando went down might all depend on you. I’m not going to sugarcoat it; it’s gonna be tough.”

  As if in response, the pilot turned down the cabin heating to acclimatize the group. Russ Burrows pulled his collar up. “We’ll keep up.”

  Alex nodded. “Good, because my primary mission is retrieval; your safety is secondary.”

  Burrows snorted. “Well, that’s great; to protect and serve, huh?”

  Casey Franks leaned forward. “Nah, that’s the other guys.”

  Burrows muttered something as he sat back.

  “Captain Hunter, just how close can they get us … to the cusp, I mean?” Anne Petersen’s brow creased as she stared up into his face.

  “Unfortunately, we might not be able to drop at the mountaintop or into it. The visibility is now down to zero due to irregular fog formations up there. Also, the prevailing winds this time of year blast down from the northwest, so we’ll be coming in on the sheltered, eastern side. As a backup plan, we have identified a shelf of stone a few hundred feet from the rim that’s about twenty feet wide that our pilot could drop us onto … with luck.”

  Alex saw her mouth tighten with anxiety. It didn’t matter; they all needed to be ready. “I expect it to be a fast and hard drop.” He smiled grimly. “As a medic, you may have some work to do.”

  Her jaw set as she collected herself. “Okay, then what?”

  Good for her. “Then, doctor, we have to scale a few hundred feet to the peak and drop into the cusp.”

  Steve Knight whooped. “Straight up a sheer rock face, in subzero temperatures, with swirling wind. Hell yeah.”

  Casey Franks winked at Anne. “Walk in the park, lady.”

  “For us, she means,” Max Dunsen brayed, and Drake Monroe high-fived Casey.

  “We’ll all be fine,” Alex said. “In fact, to make sure of that, Franks and Dunsen just volunteered to be your shock absorbers on the way down.”

  Casey shook her head, mumbling: “Well, that’s just fuc—”

  “What, soldier?” Alex glared.

  Casey jerked upright. “Nothing, sir, just saying, that’s just fine. Looking forward to it, boss.”

  Sam Reid looked up and grinned momentarily before reading more information from a small computer screen strapped to his inner forearm. He leaned in closer to Alex.

  “There’s no further intel on our Russian gatecrashers. Is it too much to hope they fell into a chasm?”

  Alex grunted. “We’re never that lucky. They’re ahead of us so we assume they’re already on the ground, somewhere, waiting.” He looked up. “Soon as we set down, I want a perimeter.”

  “You got it.” Sam leaned back to relay instructions to the HAWCs, who listened intently. The HAWCs concentrated, their eyes focused and intense, looking like a pack of hungry wolves waiting to be unleashed.

  Alex felt his own wrist computer vibrate. It was Hammerson with an update on their landing site. They were in radio silence, except for secured send-and-receive. They also used the non-vocal communications when civilians were in earshot.

  Sabers still has zero visuals on drop zone.

  Alex entered his response. Thermals?

  Nada; everything is warm down there. Go to backup plan. Hammerson out.

  Alex sighed; always the hard way. He sat back, looking across at the NASA crew. The windchill up that high in Alaska could drive temperatures down to a hundred degrees below. However, today he only expected around forty to fifty below. And then, once they entered the crater, it’d rise to around fifty above – still cool, but nearly a one hundred-degree swing. Their suits and bodies would have to work overtime to adapt.

  Then there was the melt runoff. All that heat would melt snow and ice. The rock faces would be slippery as hell and might still be running with water, sending rivers down on top of them, especially if the heat bloom was spreading.

  Hammerson had said the gases emanating from inside the crater were staying over the basin, a little like a blister. Whatever was down there was keeping the strange air close and not letting it escape. Weird. The winds up there tended to scream over the mountaintops and should have scraped out and dispersed any gases long ago.

  Maybe a good thing. Given the possibility of the gases being toxic, having them contained was probably a gift.

  The airplane started to descend and he noticed Anne Peterson looking at him again. Her face was pale. He nodded to her, and she returned the gesture. That was all he had for her.

  She came and sat next to him. “Captain, I meant to ask you …” She pressed her lips together for a moment before going on. “Do you think they, the astronauts, could still be alive?”

  “No.”

  She looked taken aback. “Uh, wow, thanks for that.”

  He continued to watch her face for another few seconds. “I wish I thought different, but I don’t. Though it’s warm in the crater, if anyone survived the impact, our scientists tell us that there are toxic gases in there.”

  “But I thought they detected movement, that might have been …” She slumped.

  “Unlikely.” He kept watching her. “Someone on that craft means something to you, right?”

  Anne stared at the ground for a moment before looking up at him. “Commander Mitchell Granger. Mitch.” She gave him a watery smile. “We talked about getting married after this mission.” Her eyes glistened.

  “You shouldn’t be here; emotions lead to mistakes.” Alex felt the air density shift, as they got closer to the ground. He looked over his shoulder out the porthole window and saw the long dirt track coming up.

  Anne bristled. “Hey, listen—”

  “We’re just here to do our jobs, Doctor Peterson. If not, people die.” He turned and nodded to Sam.

  Sam swung to the HAWCs. “Immediate perimeter deployment as soon as that damn door opens. Clear?”

  “HUA!”

  The wheels bounced and they swung sideways a few degrees before the Twin Otter settled on the runway. Sam was already standing in the center of the plane holding onto some overhead rails, his huge frame like the Colossus of Rhodes.

  They rolled to a stop, and Sam pulled open the door. Casey Franks went through it first, followed by the other soldiers, with the group immediately fanning out.

  Sam then jumped down, looked one way, then the other, before pointing at several buildings, causing the HAWCs to sprint toward them. He then lifted a scope to his eye, turning slowly as he scanned the far perimeter, Alex knew, looking for snipers.

  “Let’s go, people.” Alex waved the NASA crew out. They needed to get the Twin Otter up and gone quickly so their chopper had a clean landing pad.

  Behind them a few locals came out to stare. Sam Reid lifted his hand to them, but the other HAWCs scrutinized the gawpers closely. Sam then grabbed the NASA gear and dumped it on the ground as the three technicians leaped down.

  “Over there.” Alex yelled the words loud enough to be heard over the still spinning propellers and pointed to a place beside the runway.

  He checked his watch – time was good, and everything on schedule. He leaned into the plane and gave the pilot a thumbs-up before he shut the door. In another few moments, the Twin Otter was leaping down the track, gathering speed before bouncing once and then lifting off.

  He watched it for a moment and then shifted his vision to a dot that had appeared in the sky – their inbound chopper.

  He nodded. “I like it when things go to plan.”

  They’d secured a big bad Chinook helicopter from a private operator, an ex-military guy. The large, muscular craft was a twin-engine, tandem rotor heavy-lift helo with a wide loading ramp at the rear of the fuselage and rapid rappelling capabilities. It was also fast at nearly 200 mph, and they’d loaded extra fuel for the air-work that needed to be done. Another payoff was the craft’s size and strength meant it had good stability in high winds – they’d need that – and a t
ruckload of luck.

  The final bonus was securing a pilot who was mad enough to take risks, and being a Vet was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. If it were just his HAWCs, it’d just be another day at the office. But Alex knew with the NASA crew with them, it was going to be something else entirely.

  He watched the powerful helicopter get bigger in the sky. On the rappel, they’d be like worms on the end of a fishing line, dropping from the craft, and then relying on the skill of the pilot to dangle them over where they needed to be – a twenty-foot-wide ledge. If everyone did their job, kept their nerve, the Chinook held it together, and the winds behaved, then they might just be plonked down where they wanted. If not, then instead, they’d be slammed into the side of the granite rock face at about a hundred miles per hour.

  Alex grinned, feeling his blood already pumping hard; he couldn’t wait.

  The Chinook touched down and Alex waved Drake and Casey forward. Both HAWCs ran for the doors, pulling them open and then standing back, watching the terrain.

  Alex turned to the NASA crew. “Move it, we are on the clock, people.”

  “Contact!”

  Alex’s head snapped around at Casey’s voice.

  The HAWCs were like machines – their rifles came up as one to draw a bead on the two figures that sprinted from one of the dwellings toward the open door of the helicopter.

  “Hold fire.” Alex yelled. He saw that neither was armored up, or looked anything like combat professionals. They got to the chopper without turning once and dove inside.

  Casey Franks ran for the door and poked her head inside. Sam Reid immediately spread the HAWCs in a defensive position, and sent two to cover the NASA crew. He then jogged to join Alex at the helicopter door.

  Casey pushed her RG3 rifle up over her shoulder to its carrying slot and thumbed toward the interior of the craft.

  “Fucking hitchhikers.”

  Alex stuck his head inside, and Sam loomed up behind him. The chopper was as he expected – big, roomy, and good tech. But what shouldn’t have been there was two people seated inside. The red-headed woman had her arms folded and defiance was set hard on her features. The young bearded man seated next to her looked less confident as his eyes went from Alex to the huge form of Sam.

  “Get ’em out.” Alex turned away.

  Sam leaned back in. “Saying this just once: exit the craft, now.”

  The woman’s eyes were steady. “I don’t know who you are, but I bet you’re not with NASA, and I know they’re the only guys supposed to be heading up on that mountain to where the Orlando Space Shuttle Orbiter went down.”

  Alex turned back slowly. She was probably bluffing, but he didn’t like what he was hearing. The woman went on.

  “The Orlando crashed up there, and no one knows why, and very few people even know it’s not in space anymore. So listen, big fella, we’re going up there. We might as well go together.”

  Sam growled. “Let’s be clear, you don’t exist. Exit the craft, or we will be forced to … assist you.”

  Casey leered in at them, her scar making her face appear even more terrifying.

  “Oh, fuck no,” the bearded guy whispered as he went a shade paler. “This is going too far, Mags.”

  The woman didn’t flinch as she stared back at Sam. “Then what, tough guy?” She thrust her chin forward, and lifted a smart phone and threatened to take a picture of him. “I don’t know who you are, yet, but how about I splash your picture all over the front page and we find out that way, huh?”

  Alex had heard enough. “Franks, please assist these two citizens from our helicopter.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Casey launched herself into the rear of the helicopter and grabbed the woman. She lashed out, but was no match for Casey’s brute force, and ended up on her ass on the ground screaming obscenities. The man jumped out quickly before Casey could get to him, and cowered as if expecting the female HAWC to beat down on him for her own enjoyment.

  The red-headed woman leaped to her feet, not seeming to be intimated by the fearsome Casey in the least. She came at her, teeth bared.

  “I could sue you back to the fucking Stone Age for that.” The woman moved in even closer and stabbed a finger right in Casey’s face. “And …”

  Casey grabbed the hand and twisted. The woman howled and went to one knee, whereby Casey pushed a hand onto the back of her shoulder. The woman went down onto both knees and screamed some more.

  The man with her momentarily looked like he was going to intervene, but must have seen the expressions on the HAWCs’ faces and changed his mind.

  He settled for holding up both hands, and dancing on the spot. “Easy there, we’re cool, we’re cool.”

  Casey just pushed harder.

  “That’s enough.” Scott McIntyre rushed in and grabbed at Casey. He used both hands to yank hard on the brawny woman. “I said … that’s enough.”

  Casey continued to keep one hand on the woman’s shoulder, but wrenched an arm back, catching McIntyre on the chin with the point of her elbow. His head shot up, and she then used a leg to sweep him off his feet. McIntyre fell hard beside her, and Casey stuck a boot on his neck.

  “Let him go; that’s an order!” Russell Burrows yelled as he rushed to his colleague’s side. “As the senior NASA official, I am the authority on this mission.”

  Casey just seemed to press down harder, her sneer growing.

  Burrows turned to Alex. “Let. Him. Go. Now, or your superiors will hear about this.”

  Casey turned and grinned up at him as she now held both the red-headed woman and McIntyre down. “The fuck we care.”

  People started to edge out from the low buildings to watch.

  “Shut it, Franks.” Sam Reid edged forward, but Casey looked to Alex.

  Alex’s eyes were hard as he stared, his mouth twisted in a small smile.

  “Boss.” Sam laid a huge hand on Alex’s shoulder.

  “Huh?” Alex felt a small fire go out inside him. “Franks, let ’em up.”

  Casey took her boot off McIntyre, who quickly rolled away, holding his throat and hacking like he was choking. Casey then shoved the woman onto the cold gravel. She was immediately on her feet massaging her shoulder and hand, her eyes blazing.

  She dusted herself down, and then grinned. “So …” It was as if she flicked a switch as a change came over her. “Now that we’re all friends; my name is Morag O’Sullivan, Los Angeles Times, major news desk.” She thumbed over her shoulder to the man. “My brave partner in crime is famous cameraman Calvin Renner.” She turned to him and grimaced. “Oh, put your hands down, you putz.”

  Renner slowly lowered his hands as if he suddenly remembered he still held them up. Morag turned back to Sam, and then Alex. She stuck out a hand and waited. No one moved. After several awkward moments, Morag lowered her hand, and shrugged. “Anyway, I was serious when I said we’re going up the mountain with or without you.”

  Alex turned away. “Ready the equipment; we’re leaving.”

  “We’re going,” she said defiantly.

  “Ain’t happening,” Sam said in a growl and followed Alex.

  “Yeah, how are you going to do that, Paul Bunyan, tie us up?” She folded her arms.

  “Works for me,” Casey said and turned to Alex. “Want me to get the zip-cuffs?”

  Morag scoffed. “Sure, you could do that, and smash our gear as well. But then you’d have to shut up the locals. We made a few friends here.” She waved to a few people who had come out of some flat-topped houses to watch the group. Her mouth curled into a smile. “All you’d do is slow us down a little, but confirm there’s a real story to chase. In a few hours, we’d have a press chopper here before you even made it to the top.”

  She turned and started to nod to her cameraman. “You know what? Go ahead. You’d make this a bigger story than it might be. Make my news day; I might even win an award.” She grinned at Russell. “I’ll make NASA famous again.”

  “We can�
��t have this leaking out; not until we’re ready,” Russell blurted out.

  “It won’t,” Casey leered. “We have facilities where we can keep these two nice and quiet, until we’re done.”

  “Oh, fuck off,” Morag snarled at the female HAWC. “What, are you North Korean now?”

  Casey had her hands on her hips. “Say the word, boss, and they won’t be talking to anyone, ever.”

  Morag kicked some gravel at her. “Try it.”

  Russell grabbed Alex’s upper arm and tried to turn him, but found it impossible. Instead, he moved in front of him.

  “Captain, this mission is the highest-level security and secrecy. We cannot have these people loose, but also I will not see them harmed or incarcerated.” He looked at his wristwatch. “Fact is I can probably use them. We take them with us, control them; that’s my recommendation, no, my order.”

  Alex groaned as he listened.

  “Here’s the plan,” Casey said. “We throw them out of the chopper. Accidents happen.” She looked like she was enjoying herself.

  Renner audibly gulped and backed up, but the female journalist was unbowed. “We’re experienced climbers, and set to go, right here, right now. And if we do go, at least you can keep a lid on whatever it is going on up there … for now.” She came closer to Russell, staying out of Casey and Alex’s reach. “We can certainly help you … be happy to. Just tell me how.”

  Russell shrugged. “I need this documented.”

  “Can do that,” Morag agreed.

  “But the footage stays with us,” he added.

  “Ah.” Morag pinched her lip for a moment, and then tilted her head. “We share it.”

  “No can do, until it’s cleared by NASA.” He folded his arms. “Last chance.”

  Morag’s eyes became crafty. “You strike a hard bargain, sir. But I accept.” She turned to smile sweetly at Casey.

  Alex knew that the woman would try to secrete the footage somehow. There was no way any journalist worth their salt would wait for a government agency to release sensitive and unique footage to them. He also knew that there was no way he would let them leave with anything that contained any recordings – images, sound, or data – of a HAWC mission.