Synbat v5

by Bob Mayer

  “Ranger Two, this is One. What is your ETA at Search Base? Over.”

  * * *

  On board Ranger Two, MSgt. Joe Knutz was dodging low-hanging branches, trying to prevent the barrel of the .50-caliber machine gun from getting caught up. They were less than a quarter mile from the campsite. He activated the radio to answer Riley’s question. “I’ll be there in two mikes. Over.”

  “Roger. Out.”

  Ranger Two hit a turn on the trail. The left wheels of the humvee lost traction and the vehicle slid sideways, slamming the driver’s door against a tree.

  Knutz cursed down through the hole as T-bone spun the wheels in the mud. “Put the fucker in four-wheel drive!”

  T-bone let up on the gas briefly and yelled back: “It is, Top! We’re stuck.”

  Knutz took off the headset and hopped out of the hatch to push.

  On the knoll, Riley called Seay on the radio. “Ranger Three, do you have any movement in that body near the van? Over.” He wasn’t about to order anyone to go on foot that close to the van.

  “Negative. I checked it with my binos. Ifs Doctor Ward and he looks very dead. Over.”

  “Roger. Break. Search Six, this is — “ Riley paused as another howl split the air. This one came from the west, not from the van. He listened for a few moments, ignoring the squawk of the radio, but the cry wasn’t repeated.

  “Ranger Four, I want you to move and cover the western tree line. Sounds like another one is heading this way. Over.”

  “Roger.”

  “Search Six, this is Ranger One. Over.”

  “This is Six. Over.”

  “How many people were in the Search Base van? Over.”

  “Two of my men and Doctor Ward. Over.”

  That meant two people, probably very dead people, were still inside the van. Riley wished that Lewis would get here quickly so they could deal with the animal in the van. He suspected the DIA van was having trouble maneuvering in the wet conditions. And where was Ranger Two?

  * * *

  Knutz was slipping in the mud, trying to push, as the humvee’s engine whined, fruitlessly spinning the wheels. The team sergeant slammed his fist on the back hood of the humvee to get the driver’s attention. T-bone stuck his head out the window.

  “Rode it Reverse and forward in short bursts,” Knutz yelled. He put his shoulder on the back end and pushed forward as T-bone shifted gears. Knutz’s left foot slid out from under him and he fell in the mud, just as T-bone reversed gear. The humvee rolled back Knutz screamed as the bottom of the back bumper pinned his leg against the wet ground.

  “Stop it! Stop it!” Knutz yelled as he levered a shovel into the mud, trying to push the rear end of the vehicle off his leg. T-bone must have heard him because he turned off the engine. In the silence T-bone could hear Knutz’s labored words.

  “Don’t move it. I think my leg is busted.”

  A howl sounded almost on top of them and Knutz turned his head. A Synbat stood in the road staring at him, less than ten feet away. The two locked eyes for almost three seconds. Then the Synbat moved.

  * * *

  Riley heard the new howls again. The other one was damn close. Lewis’s van came rolling up the hill and stopped about ten feet to the left of Riley.

  The colonel got out and splashed over to Riley. “Is it still inside?”

  Riley nodded.

  “Fire it up.”

  “What about your men inside?”

  “I said fire it up, mister.”

  Riley knew that the men inside were almost certainly dead. He pushed the send on his radio. “This is Ranger One. I’m going to fire into the van. I want everyone else to hold their fire unless the creature makes a break for it. Over.”

  “Three, roger.”

  “Four, roger.”

  Riley let go of the transmit switch and made sure that he had a good grip on the machine gun. He lay the muzzle directly on the opening and pushed down on the trigger. The first rounds flew right in the door of the van.

  Riley kept the trigger depressed as he shifted the string of bullets slightly left and right, smashing into the sides of the van. The half-inch-diameter bullets were tearing holes in the sheet metal and rocking the van on its suspension.

  The Synbat exploded out the front passenger door and sprinted for the woods. Riley let up on the trigger as he swung the muzzle to follow. The creature was screaming and moving more slowly than Riley had expected. It was about thirty feet from the tree line.

  “Get it! Get it!” Lewis yelled. His men were moving out in front, fanning toward it.

  Riley fired over the DIA men’s heads, forcing them to duck. His first rounds were slightly low, but he walked the bullets up into the creature. The Synbat flew sideways like a rag doll as the steel-jacketed projectiles sank into its body.

  Riley let up on the trigger. The DIA men sprinted toward the body.

  “The north! To the north!”

  Riley recognized Bob Philips’s voice on the radio and turned to look in the indicated direction. The second Synbat must have circled around the camp, bypassing Philips’s defensive sector.

  Riley could see that this Synbat was carrying something as it moved swiftly toward the body of its comrade. Riley turned the fifty to track, but he didn’t depress the trigger because the DIA men were now in the line of fire. One of the DIA men let loose with a wild burst from his MP-5. The healthy Synbat stopped, swung up an M16, and let loose a sustained burst. Two of the DIA men tumbled down as the others hit the dirt.

  Riley was stunned by what he had just witnessed. The armed Synbat retreated into the wood line and disappeared.

  Chapter Twelve

  LAND BETWEEN THE LAKES

  3:12 P.M.

  “Go after it!” Colonel Lewis ordered.

  Riley looked down from his perch on top of the humvee. “No, sir.” He keyed the radio. “Ranger Two, this is One. Over.” He waited a few seconds. “Ranger Two, this is One. If you can hear me, break squelch twice. Over.” The low hissing of the radio continued unabated. Nothing.

  Riley looked at his other two vehicles. Doc Seay had driven over to the DIA men and was working on the two bodies while Caruso manned the fifty, pointing it at the woods where the armed Synbat had fled. Philips had moved his vehicle close to that tree line, also providing security. Riley felt a hollow weight in his chest as he pondered various courses of action. He quickly made his decision and hopped off the vehicle, Carter replacing him on the gun.

  Colonel Lewis placed himself in front of Riley as he jumped to the ground. “I’m ordering you to pursue that Synbat, mister.”

  Riley looked him in the eye. “No, sir. I’m not going after that thing until I know exactly what I’m up against. You’ve lied to me from the beginning and have continued lying throughout. Right now, as far as I’m concerned, you don’t have any credibility as an officer.” Riley brushed past him and moved over to Doc Seay, Lewis trailing him.

  “How are they?”

  Seay stood up slowly and shook his head. “Both dead.”

  “Take care of the crew chief from the helicopter.”

  Riley turned and addressed Lewis. “That’s two more. Because of these things eleven people are dead — that I know of. I don’t know how many more you haven’t told us about. I’ve also got two men missing, and I think that might be where the Synbat got the M16. In which case, two of my men are probably dead too.” Riley turned to his team members.

  “Bob, take your vehicle and try to find Knutz. Check the roads leading up here from the southwest. Be careful. These things are armed now. Give me radio checks with your location every five minutes.”

  “Roger that, chief.” Philips hopped on board his humvee and it roared out of sight. Riley walked away from the bodies and Colonel Lewis. He poked his head in the door of the van. The rounds from his machine gun had torn apart the interior. The two DIA men’s bodies had not been spared either, the bullets compounding the wounds the Synbat had caused, producing barely rec
ognizable corpses. The story was told by the empty MP-5 submachine gun lying in the mud outside the door and the 9mm brass on the floor of the van and in the dirt outside.

  Riley splashed over to where Ward’s body lay. The doctor’s sightless eyes stared up into the light, misty rain, his throat torn out. Riley felt no compassion.

  Riley walked over to Doc Seay’s humvee. Doc had the crew chief in the back, stabilized. The man was semiconscious, obviously on some sort of strong painkiller.

  “How’s he doing?” Riley asked Doc Seay.

  “A couple of minor breaks. Nothing too bad. I’ve splinted the leg, which is the worst. We need to take him back to post to get X-rays and let them set the broken bones.”

  Riley checked his watch, then went over to Lewis, who was supervising his men as they put the Synbaf s remains into a body bag. Riley found it disgusting that they gave top priority to the creature’s remains while the human bodies still lay in the mud.

  Before the DIA men had zipped the bag, Riley pushed them aside and lay the flaps open, looking at the creature. He was shocked by what he saw. It looked more human than monkey, as if a man had been given some simian characteristics rather than the other way around. Large fangs protruded from the thrusting jaw, but otherwise the shape of the head was manlike, with a high forehead suggesting intelligence.

  The eyes had golden irises and, even in death, spoke of something more than animal cunning. The body was covered with thin brown hair. The hands were totally human, with just a smattering of coarse hair on the backs.

  Riley’s gaze scanned down the body. There was a powerful-looking tail, and the muscled legs were bowed. The toes were longer than human toes and looked capable of gripping.

  A crude bag made of torn cloth was tied over the creature’s left shoulder. Riley untied the knot and looked in. It contained several scalpels and medical saws. At least now he knew how the collars had been removed and what had made the clean cuts on some of the bodies. No sign of a backpack.

  The way the Synbat had used the rifle indicated both intelligence and training. Riley felt a chill as he considered the implications of what he had just experienced. No wonder Merrit said “so-called” monkeys. What were these creatures?

  Riley looked up at Lewis, struggling to contain his rage and deal with the matters at hand. “Sir, we need to send the crew chief from the helicopter back to the hospital at Fort Campbell.”

  Lewis licked his lips. “Is it critical?”

  “No, sir. Simple fracture of the leg, but there’s nothing more we can do for him out here.”

  “We can’t move anybody until I get word from Washington on how to handle this thing.”

  Riley wasn’t thrilled, but he held his tongue. Lewis was an errand boy. Right now was the time for damage control. Riley’s first priority was to find Knutz and T-bone, and he had sent Bob Philips to work on that. He went back to his own humvee to start on the second priority.

  Carter had the vehicle’s antenna hooked into the PRC-70 radio to receive the morning’s message from Powers. Carter had just finished transcribing the six-letter groups off the DMDG.

  Riley sat in the driver’s seat, glad to finally be out of the rain. “Got the receive?”

  Carter handed Riley a piece of paper.

  Riley pointed at the FM radio. “Hear from Ranger Two or Four yet?”

  Carter indicated negatively. “Nothing from Two. I’ve been trying to call them every two minutes. Maybe their radio is down. Got a sitrep from Philips. Nothing yet.”

  Riley felt the knot in his stomach grow.

  Carter looked at Riley. “What do you think happened to Knutz, chief?”

  Riley pointed in the direction of the dead DIA men. “Well, that M16 the thing had came from somewhere. I’ve got a bad feeling it might be Knutz’s or T-bone’s.” In fact, Riley held little doubt that it was, and that Knutz and T-bone were dead. This whole operation had gone to shit in a matter of ten minutes, all because they hadn’t been told the truth. Obviously the Synbats had been designed and trained to be more than beasts of burden. Riley’s fear for his men equaled his disgust for Colonel Lewis and Doctor Ward, and all they represented.

  Riley took out the field SOP and quickly decrypted. Obviously Powers had contacted Kate and gotten the requested information.

  ZERO TWO XXX FOB THREE XXX

  BIOTECH ENGINEERING WORKING PENTAGON CONTRACT

  XXX

  PROJECT UNKNOWN BUT IN FIELD OF GENETIC ENGINEERING XXX

  HIGHLY CLASSIFIED XXX

  WARD SPECIALIST IN GROWTH HORMONES AND GENETIC ENGINEERING XXX

  MERRIT SPECIALIST IN RECOMBINANT DNA XXX

  HOSSEY SAYS TO CALL FOR HELP IF NEEDED XXX

  HE KNOWS AS MUCH AS I DO XXX

  NOTHING MORE XXX

  WILL TRY TO FIND OUT MORE XXX

  BE CAREFUL XXX

  COMPADRE

  Too little, too late. Riley hoped that Kate and whoever had passed this information to her had not jeopardized themselves because of it.

  The fact that Colonel Hossey knew what was in the messages was dangerous for Kate, but Riley wasn’t overly worried. Colonel Hossey had been the commander of Special Forces Detachment Korea (DET- K) when Riley had run the Dragon Sim mission into China three years ago. Hossey had stood by Riley’s team when everyone else had abandoned them. Riley was willing to trust him now.

  Riley slumped back in the cargo hatch behind his fifty and thought about what to do next. This whole thing sickened him. He had no doubt that those creatures had been designed by the Pentagon to attack and kill. The way they had returned to this campsite indicated a high degree of tactical sense. They had counterattacked their pursuers at the most vulnerable point and almost succeeded in wiping out everyone who had been left here, at the loss of only one of their own. The use of the M16, the tools, the bag to carry equipment — all were highly disturbing.

  Riley felt drained and disappointed. He was well on his way to losing faith in the U.S. government and the military. This was the third time that he had run a classified mission where people had died. And what had been accomplished? The mission into China in 1989 had achieved nothing, as far as Riley could tell from watching the news over the subsequent years. The raids into Colombia had briefly hurt the cartel, but the drug trade seemed to be thriving, and there had been no follow-through on that effort. And now it was damage control for a military experiment that he didn’t think should have been going on in the first place; it was probably illegal and most certainly morally wrong.

  All these deaths for what? Riley could understand soldiers dying and the necessity to cover it up for security reasons — albeit poor ones — but the death of civilians was another matter entirely. He knew what would happen, though. There would be a lot of ass-covering and finger-pointing in classified circles about this incident and then it would be business as usual.

  He could see the DIA men wrapping up Ward’s body. The doctor’s death would be very convenient for the others involved. They could all point fingers at a dead man.

  Riley realized that he was bone tired of this type of operation. He wasn’t sure he wanted to play this game anymore. None of that mattered now, though, not with three of the Synbats still loose.

  The FM radio speaker came alive. “Ranger One, this is Four. Over.” Riley grabbed the handset. “This is One.”

  “We’ve found Ranger Two. Both dead. Their Ml 6s are missing. Over.”

  Riley closed his eyes and leaned back against the rear of the turret. “Bring them to Search Base. Out.” He let the handset slip from his fingers.

  3:27 P.M.

  In the remaining van, Lewis had finally made contact with General Trailers over the secure SATCOM link. Lewis decided to get all the information out in one fell swoop and let Trailers pick over it.

  “We’ve terminated one of the Synbats, sir. Doctor Ward was killed prior to that. I also lost four men. One of the helicopters from Campbell crashed and the pilot and copilot were killed. The crew chief was
injured and is in stable condition right now. The Special Forces have lost two of their men.”

  There was a long pause. “What about the other three Synbats?”

  “I don’t know, sir. One of them was here and escaped, so they can’t be too far away.”

  “Will you be able to track them down?”

  Lewis rolled his eyes. The general was talking about looking for three animals in such a vast area that it was the proverbial needle in the haystack, except in this case the needle had the ability to turn around, prick the searcher, and then disappear again.

  “Sir, the Synbats have weapons now — at least two M16s that we know of. It’s war out here. We need to seal off the park.”

  “I have to run that one by the Old Man.”

  Lewis glanced at the clock on the wall of the van. “Sir, we need immediate help.”

  “I’ll get things rolling. Out.”

  Lewis threw down the handset in disgust, bouncing it off the console.

  3:52 P.M.

  The bulk of the Union and Confederate forces arrived during the day. More than eight hundred Civil War enthusiasts now crowded the fields to the west of the Wrangler Camp, cleaning gear, feeding horses, and swapping stories. Of the eight hundred, seventy were mounted; the rest would fight as infantry or artillery. The youngest participant was an eight-year-old drummer boy from the 8th New York. The oldest was the honorary ninety-one-year-old commander of the 6th Michigan.

  In eight minutes they would form under their various battle flags; the blue across the north end of the main pasture and the gray symbolically across the southern end. After the muster, the two groups would spend an evening preparing for the mock battle that would commence the next day. Some units would march out this evening to assume their battle positions.

  In the midst of blue ranks were Jeremiah and Louis Sattler. They had almost forgotten the events of the previous night, although Louis was a bit worried about Jeremiah’s moodiness. But soon the reenactment would begin, and Louis was confident that it would shake his brother out of the funk he’d been in all day.