Eventually the landscape transformed from a desert wasteland to a craggy, stony, valley-riven terrain. After nearly nine hours of agonising slog, the squad found its base. It looked like just a crack in a rock face, high enough for a man to walk through, and about two metres wide. It was extremely well hidden, the opening to the mine being a natural cave, which made it perfect for concealment. There was no evidence outside the cave that it had been used as a mine. Any equipment that was left had eroded or been buried by the desert. With red rock around them, only a few scattered bushes broke up the landscape. Finn imagined that it may have once been a hideaway for outlaws, it had that sort of feel to it. In reality, he knew that not even an outlaw would come this far out.
As Finn walked into the mine, his torch automatically activated in response to the sudden dimness. His jaw dropped. ‘What the fuck?’ he whispered in amazement.
Higgins walked in right behind him. ‘Fuck me,’ he said in an impressed tone.
Though the entrance was relatively narrow, inside, the cave widened out, clearly carved out by man. The ceiling vaulted up and along the walls of the mine were stacked boxes of weapons, explosives, ammunition, rations and communications equipment. There were eight motocross bikes painted in desert camouflage lined up just inside the entry.
‘It’s like bloody Aladdin’s cave in here, Sarge,’ said Finn.
‘You’re not wrong, Hunt. Not wrong at all,’ said Higgins as he went over and opened one of the crates, revealing a shoulder-mounted missile launcher.
‘One of these things can take down a San’ from over a kilometre away. Bloody brilliant!’ said Higgins. Noticing a piece of paper lying on top of the missile launcher, he muttered ‘What’s this?’ to himself and unfolded it.
He read aloud from the sheet: ‘Happy hunting. We hope you find a good use for the hardware contained in these crates. With compliments, Karl Jost, chairman, IXR’.
‘So IXR is funding us?’ asked Finn.
‘IXR has security forces more impressive than most nations’ armies,’ Higgins explained. ‘For the last decade they’ve been fighting wars around the world to keep control of their mines. I know a lot of guys who left miserable army pay to work as contractors for IXR or one of the other mining companies.’
‘Makes sense, I s’pose. Still, seems a bit odd that a publicly-listed company is more a front for a private army,’ said Finn.
‘Hunt, you’re a soldier now. Leave the business and the politics to those who give a rat’s arse.’ Higgins was in no mood for an ethical discussion over the rights or wrongs of how wars were fought in the 2030s.
Finn took the hint and started examining the crates of gear.
‘All right, you lot. No time to piss about ogling the kit,’ Higgins said, gathering the men. ‘We need the supplies on the Mule loaded into the mine and a perimeter secured. Hunt, you and Carver grab the two Centurions down there and come with me. The rest of you get moving,’ ordered Higgins.
Heaving two large, rectangular metal boxes between them, Finn and Carver awkwardly carried them out of the mine, following Higgins.
‘Okay. Drop one here and bring the other one,’ said Higgins, setting off up the narrow valley.
About a hundred metres from the mine entrance Higgins stopped and waited for Finn and Carver, who were struggling with the weight of the Centurion.
‘Deploy it here, lads,’ ordered Higgins.
Three short metal legs dropped down from the box and the Centurion was placed, facing up the valley. Higgins opened a panel on the back and started punching in settings on a small keyboard.
‘Okay. We’re live,’ said Higgins, more to himself. Tapping his earpiece, he muttered, ‘Lieutenant, do you copy? North Centurion is in place. Can you confirm comms link?’ he paused, listening. ‘Okay, very good, moving out to set up Centurion South.’
Turning to look at Finn and Carver, he explained. ‘We can all sleep easier tonight knowing these guys,’ he patted the Centurion, ‘are on watch. Any unwanteds come down here tonight and this guy will be one mean welcoming party.’
Higgins arranged a thermal camouflage net over the Centurion, and gestured to Finn and Carver to move on. ‘Right. Let’s get the southern one done.’
That night spirits were high, though they had to keep the noise low. The men were clearly pleased with themselves. They had pushed hard to get to the base before the next satellite passed over. They had endured days on the convoy and were now doing what they had joined the army to do — to soldier.
Higgins stood in the mine entrance, facing inwards to the men who were sitting eating their food. ‘All right, men. I know you’re all pretty happy with yourselves after today. It was a big hike and we achieved our objective. But let me remind you, our work hasn’t even begun yet. Tomorrow we will begin preparations for our first operation, so finish up your grub and take a shit if you need to because the satellite will be coming over in 30 minutes and we don’t want some young Chinese technician seeing an image of one of you lot with your white arses hanging out.’
Finn slept soundly that night. Thankfully, he was not on watch duty until the following day.
The next morning they were awoken by Higgins. Again, there was no fuss, very little noise. The men got out of their sleeping bags, rolled them up and put them away. Dressed, they went to the assigned latrine area, came back, brushed their teeth and ate breakfast, all in relative silence. There was apprehension in the team. It was coming home to them that they were in unfamiliar surroundings, and for three of the eight soldiers, Carver, Jessop and Finn, this was their first time in combat. Normally, a soldier straight out of training would not be expected to go on a mission like this, but in the current circumstances there was little option. Australia had to send who it could, not who it should.
The squad gathered at 0700 hours for a briefing on the day’s activities. The equipment that had been left needed to be inspected and a complete inventory of all their gear completed. Solar panels were to be set up outside to recharge the numerous batteries they used. Small satellite dishes and aerials were to be placed outside the mine entrance. A mass of cables, which were all covered in dirt, led back into the mine. An Atmofier was set up outside which, in outback conditions, could produce up to 40 litres of water a day from two sources: sucking water vapour out of the air and condensing it, and filtering the urine of the men. Finn preferred not to think too much about the second source of the water. By mid-morning the area had transformed into a buzz of activity. From the air, however, their camouflaging would ensure their operations base looked like the rest of the barren landscape.
Higgins and Taylor were musing over the unfurled, clear plastic screens that were hung on the walls of the dark, damp mine. They had their computer-generated maps of the area. Normally, the mapscreens would display the positions of their own ordnance and people. However, given the secrecy of the operation, their mapscreen showed only the area and the known enemy positions.
‘So, if we’re to attack here, there’s a good chance that they won’t be able to divert a patrol quickly enough to engage,’ said Taylor.
‘We would be incredibly lucky, sir — that’s based on week-old intel. There’s no reason to believe the Chinese patrols are holding the same rotation and patrol grid,’ replied Higgins in a hushed tone, conscious of the other men listening in on their discussion.
‘Well, I don’t see much choice, Higgins. We need to execute our attack tomorrow at 1200 hours. If we don’t hit them here,’ Taylor said, jamming his finger to the point on the mapscreen and speaking a little too loudly for Higgins’ liking, ‘then there’s no way we can get our guys back before the satellite moves overhead.’