by Jim Roberts
Danny once again did as he was told. 'Extend' he thought. With a speed that surprised the Canadian, two foot long blades shot out from each wrist.
"They are Damascus-steel combat blades, tapered with titanium. The blades are held within the suit's arms and are usable for stealth or hand-to-hand combat."
Whisper looked at each blade in turn. Useful. Very useful.
"How do I sheath them?"
"Just relax your grip and think the word 'Sheath'."
Whisper did so. The blades retracted back into the arms. "What's the second thing?"
"Colonel Walsh already mentioned it. I actually got the Whisper Shroud to work. Activate it using your wrist control."
Danny fiddled with the control for a moment. Yune talked while Danny fiddled with the device, "The shroud only works at full efficiency at night or in dark areas. But when it's working, you will be a shadow to your enemies."
As Danny worked with the device, Walsh walked back up the ramp, flanked by his technicians, "We're going to get underway soon Doc. How's it going?"
"Whisper is almost ready, Colonel."
"Have you tested the Shroud yet?"
Yune turned back to mind his patient, "We were just about to now, sir!"
Whisper finally found the right key combination and activated the shroud. The heads-up-display abruptly changed color, to a teal blue. "You are in stealth mode" spoke the suit's computer voice in his ear.
"Did it work?" asked Danny, not able to see the effect of the shroud.
Yune grinned happily. Walsh nodded in admiration. The suit had instantly gone from visible to nearly-invisible. Walsh asked one of the techs to dim the C-17's lights so they could see the extent of the shroud's capability. Whisper vanished almost completely when the lights went down to half strength.
"Amazing," said Walsh, looking at the seat where Danny sat.
"I'm actually behind you sir," Whisper's trademark raspy voice spoke in Walsh's ear, making the Colonel start.
"Nice trick Corporal," said Walsh, "A resounding success Doc." The Colonel clapped the Doctor on the arm in gratitude and then signaled for his men to start wrapping it up for takeoff, "We're ready to head out. Close this baby up. It's time to get this here mission underway!"
JOE CHECKED his watch. 2300 hours. Halfway there. They would be over the province of Kondoz by now. Isabella controlled the Black Hawk perfectly, providing a smooth ride for her passengers. Joe fished around in his pack for the OpTab and clicked it on, the soft glow illuminating his face in the dark of the cabin. Krieger looked over and suddenly remembered he had one too. He pulled out his own tablet and began going over the compiled information Walsh's team had prepared for the mission.
The tablet screen layout was similar to a smartphone, with several thumbnail icons listing the contents of the briefing. Joe pressed the thumbnail reading Landing Zone Area. In a nano-second, the screen switched to a zoomable satellite image of the general area. Joe checked the distance they would have to hustle. Nearly two kilometers; a brief jaunt for any Army Ranger. There were no buildings or settlements within nearly twenty square miles, so it was likely they wouldn't run into anyone on their way to the fortress. He looked through the OpTab's different functions for another few minutes, then switched it off.
"What do you think?" asked Joe.
Krieger was still working with his OpTab, "With what?"
"The mission; what do you think?"
"Oh...sorry. Just found Angry Birds on here. Fun game!"
Joe rolled his eyes, reached over and clicked the screen reset button, spoiling the Russian's fun.
"You're going to be watching my ass out there; pay attention!"
"Sorry, my friend...just making joke,” Krieger said, “What is the plan?"
Joe zipped his backpack up, replacing it under the seat, "We're up for a run, about two kilometers north once we hit the LZ."
Krieger nodded, "Better keep up with me. Lots of Centurions to kill and only so much time."
"You remember the briefing...no shooting until..."
"...Until we have planted bombs. Take all the fun out life," Krieger tossed his own tablet back in his pack and sat back in his seat. They still had a good hour or so before they reached the LZ. Joe had thought about taking a nap, but the hum of the Black Hawk would keep him awake. Besides, there was a better than average chance he would die on this op. Plenty of time to sleep in the grave.
The three men said little for a time. Brick, sitting opposite the two companions, keyed unknown commands into his OpTab, looking up every now and then to glance out the helicopter window. Joe eyed the man for a minute. He was a hard one to get a bead on, that was for sure. Joe hoped he could trust the enigmatic Brit, especially if he was the one with the finger on the C9.
To take his mind off of their grumpy companion, Joe turned towards Krieger and asked, "Any thoughts about this...Code thing?"
"What do you mean?" replied the Russian.
"I mean do you have any idea what it is, what it does?"
"Not really my friend. I never even heard the word mentioned while I was in the prison. Only thought they used fort to stage attacks on nearby Afghanistan villages."
Joe thought carefully for a moment, "Whisper had mentioned something about the computer monitors displaying odd nonsense historical data as if it was compiling research."
Krieger frowned, "Research...on history of war? Why?"
Joe shrugged, "No clue. Maybe to compile a computer virus, as Yune seems to think...I don't know. It's not my area of expertise. Danny said most of the computer info was so specific, it was practically gibberish."
Krieger nodded, "I have little use for such things. Computers and tech people annoy hell out of me."
Joe figured as much. Krieger seemed more at home blazing away with an AK-47 or sticking a knife in a guy's ear. Still, Joe had to admit he was glad for the Russian's company. The burly ex-PMC soldier had more than proven himself during the jailbreak and it was good to have a friendly face on the first op for this new unit. Even if that face annoyed the hell out of him sometimes.
Joe's eyes moved to rest on the silent SAS operator sitting across from them. Brick's sea-blue eyes gleamed with intelligence and seemed to reflect the dim cabin lighting in such a way it sent a chill up Joe's back. The man had the look of someone who'd sacrificed much in the line of duty; a man with his own closet of skeletons locked away in his bedroom of memories.
Joe gathered up some courage and posed the SAS soldier a question, "So Sergeant, do you know anything about this Code?"
Brick was silent for a brief moment before answering. The man seemed to love awkward pauses, "Well mate, I'll tell you something. I've been with the Colonel for a year now fighting these assholes an' I only know one thing about 'em for sure..."
Krieger raised his eyebrows, "Yeah? What is that?"
"You can't stop the Code."
The cryptic statement seemed to weigh down the entire chopper. Joe had no idea what it meant and it appeared that Brick would tell them when he was damn good and ready.
Joe changed the subject, "Alright Sergeant...how did the Colonel rope you into this little club?"
Brick waited a brief moment to respond, long enough for it to get uncomfortable, "Same basic story as you mate, innit? Bad luck."
"Just bad luck?"
"Found myself in a large spot of trouble about a year back. The Colonel helped me out - pointed me at the ones who wronged me an' bang!" he said the word with such force that it made Joe start, "Here I am, ferryin' you cowboys into a hostile country to attack a force that'll no doubt have us for breakfast."
Krieger grimaced, "I don't like cowboys − horses make me sneeze."
Brick ignored the offhand comment, keeping his eyes on Joe, "I must admit, your escape from fortress Bellum was mighty impressive."
Joe grinned, thinking he finally was getting somewhere the stoic Brit, "Well, thanks."
Brick smirked back, "Impressive that you two yahoos didn't
get blown to pieces in the first minute."
Joe leaned back in his seat. Back to this again.
Brick pushed on, "From what I can tell it was Doctor Yune's suit and Corporal Callbeck what kept you from becoming permanent residents of that place, right?"
Krieger had been getting steadily angrier as Brick spoke. Joe held up a hand to restrain the Russian, saying to the Brit in a measured voice, "We owe Whisper...Danny, our lives, it's true. But getting out of that hellhole took all of us. Krieger, Yune, and Danny; we all pulled our weight."
Krieger nodded irritably, "That is right! You should have seen it...I grab Dushka MG and blow fifty Olympus troopers straight to hell! Blood everywhere! It was OWW!" Krieger cried out in pain as Joe elbowed the Russian (for the fifth time that day) in the ribs. Brick shook his head in amazement.
"Like I said, Sergeant Braddock. If you boys don't get blown away on this op, I'll eat my hat."
Joe grinned, "I'll bring the mustard."
UP ABOVE the Afghan province of Kondoz, the C-17 Globemaster, codenamed Barbarian roared towards its rendezvous. In the technician area of the plane, Doctor Yune had taken his place at his work area. A large plethora of computer monitors and CPUs interconnected to form a large workspace spread out in front of the Doctor, giving the brilliant Asian scientist complete control over the operation. Yune stretched, snapping his fingers to relieve the tension before the mission would begin.
In the opposite room, Whisper waited, sitting in one of the folding chairs. The room would be pressurized in a few minutes when the mission was given a go by Colonel Walsh. Whisper looked at the HUD inside the helmet for the time: 23:57.
Soon now.
On the other side of the cabin sat Colonel Walsh. The old soldier had decided he didn't like the stuffiness of the computer area and wanted a place to smoke a cigarette.
Whisper felt slightly uncomfortable. Here he was kitted out with probably the world's most advanced suit of power armor, and he was getting nervous being in the presence of an old military warhorse. But Danny had to admit; there was something about Walsh he couldn't put his finger on. The man seemed to exude confidence and strength, but there was an air of sadness around the Colonel. Occasionally Walsh would lose himself in thought for minutes at a time before he jolted back to reality. Whisper could only wonder what a man like this had seen in his fifty-odd years of continuous combat.
Whisper summoned up some courage and asked the Colonel, "Sir, are you alright?"
Walsh looked at Whisper and then at his hand. The cigarette he had been holding had burned itself down to a two-inch chunk of ash. Walsh smirked, tossing the smoke to the floor, "Fine Corporal. Just a lot on my mind."
The Colonel stood up, stretching his legs. Walking over, he leaned against the partition wall between the cargo bay and the computer lab.
"I suppose now's as good a time as any to tell you about one last parameter to your mission."
Whisper was surprised. What other parameter?
"You know Sergeant Braddock is hell-bent on retrieving his men."
Whisper nodded, "Yes sir. It means a great deal to him."
Walsh reached into his pocket and pulled out his cigarette case, tossing a fresh Camel in his mouth, "Well, the second Code disc is of absolute unparalleled importance. So you understand, this mission must not, I repeat, not be compromised."
Danny was getting a bad feeling about all of this, "What are you saying, sir?"
The Colonel lit his cigarette with his Ronson lighter, holding a hand over it to help the flame, "I'm saying nothing Corporal. I'm not saying that if Sergeant Braddock should jeopardize the mission in any way that he and his companion Krieger if need be, shall become liabilities."
Danny's heart began to thump in his chest.
Walsh went on, his voice becoming low and matter-of-factly, "You and I both know that Sergeant Braddock is blindly loyal to his men. He would make saving them his number one priority, no matter what the orders were."
Whisper couldn't stand the charade any longer. He stood up and stared straight into Walsh's face, the beetle-like helmet reflecting the Colonel's own visage back to him.
"You are asking me to kill my friend Colonel."
"No Corporal. I'm asking you to listen to reason. Things may go just fine down there, and all of this will be like wind in a meadow. But..." The Colonel broke the tension, turned around and walked over to the door, "I need to have someone there I can rely on. A man of honor who will not put the lives of countless millions in balance for the behest of one man."
He took one last puff of his cig before throwing it away as well.
"So Corporal...Can I count on you?" asked Walsh, not really expecting an answer.
Danny Callbeck felt as if the world was moving in around him; his own life suddenly felt small and meaningless.
Joe is like a brother...
I could never...
The thoughts were so terrible, he had to banish them from his mind before he got sick in the suit. Walsh gave the Armored Soldier one last nod before opening the door.
"I'm not commanding you to do anything Corporal. Just to remember that there are things in this world far greater than any one man. It requires a strong heart to do what's right for the many."
And with that, Walsh disappeared into the computer room of the C-17, leaving Whisper to wait in silence before his drop into Kazinistan.
Chapter 18
Flying Squirrel
IT WAS closing in on 00:05, by Joe's watch. He hefted his M4, checked the breech and safety, and kept the weapon at the ready. Krieger followed suit, making sure his MP5 was primed for action. Brick tossed them two canisters of dark camo paint.
"Might want to use some of that, boys."
The two men applied the camouflage in thick lines across their faces. From the cockpit, Isabella used the in-cabin mike to call back to them, "We're five minutes from the LZ. Get your asses in gear and get ready!"
Krieger made a mock salute, "Yes Sir!"
Joe strapped on his backpack and prepared for the set down, his arm gripping the safety handle above the Helo's side door. Brick picked up his own OpTab and entered several quick commands.
"What are you looking for?" asked Joe.
"Checkin the terrain for radar contact," he was quiet for a minute while observing the screen, "We're in luck. All of their aircraft must be grounded for the night. We've got nothing in a twenty-kilometer radius."
"And there's no way they can detect us?"
Brick shook his head, "Not unless they've invented a technology capable of beatin' the CIA's toughest stealth equipment."
That statement did little to calm Joe's mind. He had seen the tech Olympus had. Primitive it was not.
Isabella's voice came over the intercom, "We're coming up on the LZ. T-minus twenty seconds."
Joe pulled the night vision goggles over his face and gave Krieger a thumbs up 'ready to go' signal. Krieger did the same, following his leader's example. The Black Hawk decelerated and began its descent towards the Kazinistani plateau beneath them.
Brick nodded to two men, "Good luck boys, we'll meet you at the fortress in two hours."
Krieger yelled a reply, "Don't be late, tovarisch!"
The Black Hawk landed with a soft thud, the massive rotors kicking up the sand of the plateau into a torrent of chaotic dust. Brick hauled open the side door and Joe and Krieger jumped out and hauled ass away from the beating-helicopter rotors. After they were fifty feet away, Joe turned and waved to signal they were clear. Inside the bird, Brick made a gesture to Isabella and the helicopter began to rise. It banked to the southwest and gained speed until it was out of sight.
"Let's get to it," said Joe. He removed the OpsTab and checked the localized GPS. They were almost exactly where the LZ had been marked. Isabella was a pro alright. Joe checked their current heading and pointed to relative north.
Krieger removed the night vision goggles for a moment. He fished around in his backpack for his pair of
high-intensity binoculars and held them up to his face, scanning the plateau. The binoculars were also in infrared, allowing a perfect view of the area.
"I think I see fortress my friend."
Joe followed suit, holding up his own binoculars. The Russian hadn't been wrong. According to the binoculars' range calculator, it was about two and a half clicks to the south wall where they would be climbing. They were too far below the fortress to see any life on the base. He shoved the binoculars back into the pack and hoisted the heavy kit onto his back.
Time to start hoofin’ it.
NEARLY THIRTY-THREE thousand feet in the air above Kazinistan, Whisper stood at the cargo ramp of the C-17, awaiting the green light to make his descent. As he stood, resolute and unmoving like a cold statue of granite, Whisper's mind was filled with uncertainty.
“I need someone I can rely on...”
The Colonel's words repeated endlessly in Danny Callbeck's head. What if Joe really does put the safety of his men before the Code? Will I be able to...
Danny closed his sightless eyes tight inside the suit. It did nothing, as he could still see through the ocular implants beaming the electromagnetic information straight into his brain.
The Code could lay Olympus's plan bare. It would be a terrific gain.
But what if Walsh was wrong? What if the disc was just another piece of an endless puzzle? There were so many ifs and buts, Whisper couldn't keep them straight in his head.
You are still Joint Task Force 2, Danny Callbeck. You are elite; the best Canada has. Deal with this when the time comes. Focus on the mission.
He repeated the last sentence. His rage began to cool and he focused his thoughts. Almost at the same time, the HUD in the suit's helmet displayed an incoming message. A small image of Yune's face appeared in the lower corner of the helmet's display.
"We are almost ready for mission start, Whisper. T-minus one minute and counting."
Whisper nodded, "I read you, Doctor."
Yune sensed Danny's trepidation of the coming jump, "Trust me, it will be easier than any HALO jump you have ever attempted. All I can tell you is to trust the suit."
Whisper hated hearing Yune say that.
The overhead lights switched from the Red for STOP to the Green for GO. The ramp began to lower. The temperature dropped several degrees instantly as the cold air in the atmosphere entered the bay. The country of Kazinistan stretched out below him. The Pamir Mountains stretched as far as Danny could see.
