Daniel Suarez - Kill Decision

“Those were short-range air-to-air missiles-probably AIM-92s.” On her frown he added, “They were gunning for aircraft, not ground targets.”

“What about the first drone? The one we caught in the bag?”

He produced a GPS unit from his flight suit and started booting it up. “I don’t know yet. It might have been sent by someone else. Did you happen to notice those drones swarming?”

“Are you joking?”

“Did you recognize any behavior from your weaver model?”

McKinney recalled the machines flying in formation “They were flying together. I wouldn’t call two drones a swarm. They certainly didn’t manifest any weaverlike recruitment pattern, if that’s what you mean. And it’s too small a group, too short a time frame.” She gestured to the wreckage. “You think this has a black box flight recorder in it?”

“Probably, but they’ll be coming for it. So we can’t stick around.” He examined the GPS screen. “We need to get to the rally point.”

“Where’s that?” McKinney looked around at the frozen, mountainous desert around them.

“Not close.” He pointed at the mesas lining the horizon. “A lot of this is exposed rock. We won’t leave tracks. We’ll move across the heights and keep close to cover. There might be UAVs coming.” He put a pair of thermal binoculars to his eyes and scanned the horizon. In a moment he put them away. “We’re good for now. And about ten miles northwest of Green River as the raven flies. It’s rough ground, and we need to make up time.”

McKinney was still studying the burning wreckage.

“Congratulations on your first night jump, by the way.”

She couldn’t help but laugh and shake her head. “Wasn’t fun.”

“Still.” He pointed toward the horizon. “South. Southeast around that ridge. Green River’s probably eighteen miles on foot; it’s gonna be a serious hump.”

“You ever do a mile through Peruvian jungle?”

“As a matter of fact, I have.” He started walking. “This area will be crawling with regular military and law enforcement soon. We need to be long gone by then.”

He climbed the edge of a smooth, sloping outcropping of stone and motioned for her to follow. The rock formation continued as far as she could see by moon and starlight. He headed farther up the spine of rock, toward distant lights glittering against a jagged silhouette of mountains.

McKinney took a breath and hurried up the rock face after him.

Odin and McKinney moved at a steady pace across a vast expanse of undulating rock; above them was a brilliant field of stars. She could even see the Milky Way this far out from civilization. It had been a long time since she’d experienced a cold, clear night like this. Being able to be outside at night without getting eaten alive by malarial mosquitoes was a pleasure. It almost made her forget the circumstances of their journey. The temperature was down in the thirties, but she was more than warm enough in the HALO jumpsuit.

“Can I keep this thing as a souvenir?”

He just cast a look back at her.

“You can tell them it blew up in the crash.”

“Keep moving.” He turned back again. “Here…” He tossed her a plastic tube that she just barely caught. “Energy gel.”

She examined the tube. “This classified too?”

“No, I got it at a sporting goods store.”

She cracked it open and squeezed some of the saccharin-sweet substance into her mouth. “Yuck. It tastes like a scented candle.”

“It’ll give you energy and keep you hydrated. Take it all. We’ve got a long way to go.”

She kept sucking on the tube.

The nearest stationary lights were miles away still. To the north they could also make out Interstate 70 and the truck lights moving over the vast desert landscape.

Odin occasionally stopped to scan the sky with thermal binoculars. Whether he was orienting himself or looking for danger, it was hard to tell.

Before long she heard a loud caw on the wind. McKinney and Odin turned to see both the ravens flutter down to land on rock outcroppings nearby.

A smile crossed his face. “Huginn. Muninn. Good.”

The birds fluttered and caw ed again as if in response.

McKinney stood next to him, appraising the birds. “They found us. Even way out here.”

“They can cover a lot of ground-with excellent night vision. And hearing. Their eyes are sharp enough to tell a golden hawk from a goshawk at a distance of two miles.”

“Then they can hear approaching drones.”

“Long before we can.” He extended his hand to one of the ravens-it was always impossible for McKinney to tell them apart, although Odin seemed to be able to. The raven climbed onto his glove. He knelt and looked directly into its eyes. “Huginn. Scout. Muninn. Scout.” He released the bird, letting it walk over to its mate.

The ravens made a few keek-keek sounds and flew off into the night sky in opposite directions.

She watched them go. “That’s amazing.” It did feel good to have friends in the sky, scouting for trouble. “When did the military start working with ravens?”

Odin looked up at her. “The military doesn’t work with ravens. I do. I’ve known them both for twenty years, and if I’m lucky, I’ll be with them another twenty.”

“Twenty years? How long do they live?”

“They can live to be sixty.”

McKinney did the math. “But that means you’ve known them since you were a kid.”

He got to his feet. “We need to keep moving.” Odin started upslope, and McKinney ran to catch up.

“How did that happen?”

He cast a look back at her. “I spent a lot of time in the woods.”

McKinney recalled her own childhood explorations in distant woodlands and jungles-treks that inspired her career. She paused. “How’s a kid in an orphanage spend a lot of time in the woods?”

“I ran away from foster homes a lot.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “I was about twelve. Had a camp hidden in the woods, and this raven kept visiting me. I’d try to shoot him for food, but he’d fly away every time I grabbed my gun.”

“You were twelve, and you had a gun.”

“This was rural Pennsylvania. A. 22 Ruger I stole from my foster father. Not the point. Every time I grabbed it, the raven would fly away. Or he’d put a tree trunk between him and me. He was smarter than I was.”

They ran for a few moments in silence. It was the most McKinney had ever gotten from him, and she didn’t want to interrupt.

Odin eventually continued. “I began to enjoy his company. He’d let out a warning whenever anyone else came near my camp. He started to lead me to carcasses in the woods. Deer that had been hit by cars. I realized he couldn’t penetrate their hides. That’s why he’d bring me-to cut them open for him. And that was our arrangement. I always shared with him after that. And he helped me survive.”

“A symbiotic relationship.”

“Not unusual for ravens. Back in school I learned all I could about them. Whenever I’d go back to those woods-even as a man-Huginn would recognize me. And later his mate, Muninn. They can remember individual humans for years. We’re special to them.”

“How so?”

They kept up a fast pace over the rocks. McKinney realized it was a good thing she was in excellent shape, because Odin was apparently used to covering ground fast.

“You familiar with the term encephalization, Professor?”

She nodded. “Sure. I’m a biologist. It’s the amount of brain mass exceeding what would be expected, given body mass. It directly correlates to intelligence. Humans and dolphins are the most encephalized species, for example.”