Armen Gharabegian - Protocol 7

“How long will the generators last? Without enough power, the Spector could get only halfway there-refreeze inside the shaft.”

“You’re insane,” Lucas said. “Even if you could melt through the ice for that ridiculous distance, you’ll simply find yourself in another tunnel-one that we can’t get to, by the way. With so many cave-ins and re-coring, it’s-”

“Not so,” Rolfe said, looking even more closely at his digital map. “If we cut through the Gorge, we can meet up at this point here, fifty feet below the vessel, then climb through an airshaft here, and…that’s it. A route home.”

Lucas snorted. “Absurd,” he said. “We’d actually have to climb down the side of the Gorge. None of us have ever even tried that before.”

Hayden had taken enough. “All right,” he said, “Do you have a better idea?”

Lucas scowled at him.

“We could squat here in your little camp until the last of your batteries goes bad and we all freeze to death. But…”

“Wait,” Lucas said, holding up a hand. “I said it was a crazy plan, didn’t say it was impossible.”

It took a moment for Hayden to believe what he was hearing, but then he broke into a grin. “So we’ll do it?” he said.

Lucas made a show of shrugging. “It’s better than nothing. After all, if we leave your submersible where it is now, Vector5 will surely get to it. In fact, I’m not sure that they haven’t taken it already.”

Hayden was jolted by the speculation. If the Spector was already compromised, then there was literally no way out of this place. But he pushed that thought away. The Spector would be there, waiting for him. He had to believe it.

He walked toward the corner of the room and started to sift through the leftover weapons and equipment from half a hundred ambushes and raids. “All right then,” he said, “let’s start packing.”

* * *

Less than fifteen minutes later, the team had split up. Hayden, Samantha, Andrew and Ryan had started the long hike back to the Spector. Lucas and two of his men, all of them heavily armed, followed along and took the point. It was a simple and nearly impossible plan: melt an escape route for the Spector, come back to the camp and leave immediately to recapture the vessel.

That might be the plan, Lucas thought as he watched Hayden and his team walking ahead of him, but that’s not what’s going to happen.

9:27 AM

“We weren’t supposed to make it this far.”

Simon turned his head and looked at Max. The dim light of the Gorge made him slightly visible, but Simon wanted more. He directed the dwindling light of his shoulder lamp so he could see his best friend’s face. “What?”

“Our ‘friend’ Lucas sent us right to the main entrance to Dragger Pass. Something doesn’t smell right. And Simon, we aren’t the only ones here. Lucas would have known that.”

The faint rumbling had grown steadily louder. It wasn’t the wind at all, Max knew now. It was a vehicle-a big vehicle. And it was coming toward them fast.

“It’s a trap,” Max hissed. “Move back. Into the shadows.” The ice beneath their feet was slippery, churned up and refrozen after the passage of dozens of vehicles that had traveled across the bridge. Less than ten seconds later, the massive DITV of the Black Ops team rolled into view on the far side of the bridge, its twelve-foot wheels spinning and grasping. The trio watched wordlessly as the vehicle slalomed to a stop, turned, and rumbled across the bridge. It was barely wide enough to accommodate the huge, heavily armored transport.

“Don’t like this,” Max said. “Don’t like this at all.”

* * *

Drago was the name that the leader of the Black Ops was using this year. He was a menacing, remorseless character, a mercenary over six-foot-five who didn’t give a damn about Vector5 or anyone else outside the mission and his current team-so he didn’t think twice about following Blackburn’s orders to kill Roland for his failures.

He stood behind the pilot in the cockpit, looming over him as they crossed the bridge at Dragger Pass. The only sound they heard was the grumble of the vehicle’s engines and the crunch of the ice under its treads.

They were barely across the bridge when his forward scout called out, “Movement!”

“Pull up!” If the sensors were showing people out there, outside a vehicle and in unauthorized space, he needed to know.

“Full scan,” he said. The cockpit was absolutely quiet as the sensors, active and passive, examining every inch of the tunnels that opened onto the bridge landing.

“Inconclusive,” the forward scout said, sounding frustrated. “Too damn cold for the infrared, and if they stay out of line-of-site, the motion detectors can’t grab ‘em.”

“Hmph,” Drago said. “But you saw them? Saw something?”

“I’d bet my life on it,” the scout said.

You just did, Drago thought.

“We wait, and if this is Roland’s team, they’ve already met us half way.”

* * *

Nastasia was quiet, waiting for Simon’s lead. But it was Max’s voice that cut through the icy air.

“Lucas sent us into an ambush,” he whispered as the terrifying military transport slowed to a sudden stop at the end of the bridge. It was scanning obviously looking for something. For them.

“No lights,” he said, though it was hardly necessary. Still, it was pitch black in the shadows; Nastasia couldn’t even see the hand in front of her face. “Grab my shoulder with one hand and follow me quietly.”

“I can’t see anything,” whispered Nastasia, trying to find Simon’s body in the absolute darkness.

“Just feel what’s below your feet,” Max said. “Take careful steps. We’re backing up here, you and me. Into the tunnel. Farther back.”

She followed him reluctantly, thinking all the while, Where is Simon? I can’t lose him…

They were no more than thirty feet deeper into the cave when the vehicle surged forward and came straight toward them. Max wasted no time. He pulled Nastasia’s body close to him and whispered fiercely, “I need your weapon.” Before she had a second to respond, he grabbed it from the holster that Lucas had provided and snatched her ammo and provisions bag from her shoulder.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

“You’re going to stand right here and wait for that vehicle,” he said as the lights of the menacing transport inched closer. They could be revealed at any instant. “You understand me?”

“But-”

“No questions. You’re alone. You just crashed from a cycle you had just stolen. Do you understand me?”

The vehicle was nearly on top of them. Almost against her will, Nastasia turned to face it, and suddenly Max was gone, faded into the night. She was alone.

Now the whole world was blinding light and the buzz of vibration below her feet, as the huge vehicle rushed toward her. She had never felt such fear as she stood on the frozen floor, gazing at the lights, imagining the weapons she knew were locked on her.

* * *

The pilot of the Black Ops DITV leaned forward in his seat. “Sir,” he said to Drago, “You need to see this.” He clearly couldn’t believe what the sensors were showing him.

“Magnify,” he told the AI unit inside the cockpit. The image zoomed forward with dizzying speed, and he found himself looking at Nastasia standing on the frozen icy floor, panic in her eyes.

“Pop the hatch,” Drago ordered. “We’ve got company.”

* * *

Nastasia’s legs started shaking as the vehicle sped directly toward her. The sound of the massive machine reverberated through her body, and its hulking shape, barely visible behind its blinding lights, was like some huge predator poised on its haunches, ready to pounce.