The hyperalloy-composite exoskeleton framework was light, flexible and a hundred times tougher than steel. Sam could now do anything he could before, with a few small advantages like being able to run at fifty miles per hour and kick a hole in a metal door.
Hammerson selected him for the mission. Sam also had another role. He was the closest thing to a friend that Alex Hunter had. If Alex suffered one of his fury-episodes and things started to go bad, then Sam was probably the only guy able to talk him back down.
Three top HAWCs was all Hammerson needed. The team was small enough to reduce chances of detection, but each member was the equivalent of a platoon when it came to skill, experience, and lethality. Working on foreign soil came with added risk. And when it was a war zone, that risk was magnified a hundredfold. They’d need local Intel.
Hammerson laughed softly. “Better the devil you know.” He lifted his phone. “Margie, get me General Meir Shavit.”
“Do you know how many countries in the Middle East would like to see the total annihilation of Israel, Jack?” Shavit breathed noisily as he waited.
“Most of them,” Hammerson replied evenly.
“Yes. We can engage and defeat any army in our neighborhood; we have done it before. But if one of them suddenly had the ability to carry out that desire to totally annihilate us, or to arm a proxy to do it on their behalf, without even having to show their face?” There was a low growl over the line. “Jack, this is a scenario that cannot be allowed to stand.”
“Then we have common objectives. This is not just your problem, General. This is a global problem,” Hammerson said.
“We have two simple objectives — find the current stockpile, and destroy it. Then we must seek the source, and that too must be destroyed.” Shavit breathed raspingly for a few seconds. “And we must seek that source on whatever path it takes us. Are you ready for that, Jack?”
Hammerson knew what Shavit was saying. There were only a few countries in the region that had the technology and capability to supply nuclear material, or perhaps even a fully functioning bomb to the rogue states. Pakistan and North Korea were suspects, but the crosshairs were also on Iran. No one knew exactly what they were capable of, and every time they refused UN inspections, stalled for time, or played politicians for fools, they were suspected of furiously building up their own capabilities in their underground sites.
Hammerson’s mind whirled. If the path led somewhere dark, would he be forced to look away for political expediency? Hammerson smiled with little humor; his role was without politics — Chilton made it that way. In his world, he decided what was right and what was wrong. A threat to the USA or its allies had to be met head on and totally obliterated. And in that regard, his and Shavit’s objectives aligned.
“We stand with you, General.”
“Good, Jack. It is a nasty business, and one we warned would come one day,” Shavit rasped. “I fear these detonations are but the opening act to a much greater performance yet to come.”
“What do you know about them, General?” Hammerson sat forward.
“We know they were brought in by a new type of suicide bomber. But how can this be? Our experts tell us that the first device, detonated at ground level in Soran, would have weighed about five hundred pounds. The next detonation in Iraq was even larger, and the containment and detonation package was estimated to be closer to nine hundred pounds. How can a single man even lift that, let alone carry it for over two hundred miles?”
“They can’t,” Hammerson said. “Or at least no ordinary man can. We call them Travelers, and something isn’t right about them.”
“There are forces who would consign us to a fiery end in the blink of an eye. I fear they are marching to our door. This cannot be left unanswered.” Shavit coughed dryly. “I know you are with us, Jack. But are your masters? That I’m not so sure about.”
“They also obliterated our people, and hundreds of thousands more. We’re all in this together now. If this is a new form of tactical device and delivery methodology, then our military bases in the Middle East are at risk, as well as all of Europe.”
“This is true,” Shavit said, coughing dryly.
Hammerson winced, wishing the guy would take a sip of water. He waited, but the old warrior didn’t continue. Hammerson had a sudden thought — they’d already gone in by themselves. He took a gamble. “General, we know you’re already on the ground in Iraq. You need our support on this.”
There was a hoarse laugh. “Your Intel is good, Jack. But support is a capricious thing. We cannot afford to be constrained by our supporters when it comes to our own backyard. You get to go home, and we are left to clean up the mess, before it becomes everyone’s mess.”
“We’re going in, General. We’d like your assistance, but with or without it, we’ll be there in a few hours.” Hammerson had nothing to lose, so gambled some more. “We’ll see you in Mosul.” He smiled as he waited.
The silence stretched until there came a long, weary sigh.
“General, you won’t be taking orders and you won’t be constrained,” Hammerson said evenly. “We’ll be working together as partners.”
“And if we find anything… provocative?” The general’s voice held a challenge.
Hammerson knew this was the final test. “If we find anything, then we destroy it. We leave zero capability.”
Once again there was silence, and then another soft exhalation of breath. “We have sent three agents. Their orders are immutable, and will not be swayed by your own people. Too much is at stake now, Jack. We will seek and destroy. Join us in this mission, or stay away from us.”
“Then we have similar mission objectives. Where can we rendezvous?”
Hammerson heard some ruffling of papers. “There is a town in the Ninwa Province, called Jurn. I will send you the coordinates. We will be there in six hours, Jack.”
Hammerson looked at his watch and whistled. “Give us ten.”
Shavit laughed. “You were never really on your way, were you?”
“We are now.” Hammerson sat back and smiled.
CHAPTER 4
From the ground the Rockwell B-1R Lancer bomber was invisible as it slipped through the atmosphere at around 42,000 feet. The high speed, high altitude bomber was doing a tick over Mach 2, and at that speed and height, it was well beyond the range of guided missiles. The craft had been cleared by the Iraqis on the pretext it was examining the radiation bloom traveling across the continent — but only part of that data had been true, as the examination to be undertaken would be a little more intrusive than the locals expected.
The three figures seated in the back looked more like assembled robots than human beings. From head to boot, they were encased in an armored uniform that reflected the inside of the bomber’s rear cabin. It was an adaptive camouflage that interpreted their surroundings to provide a suitable cloak, blending them to their environment.
For now, it was as black as the shadows they sat within. Some of the molded plating looked like the exoskeleton of an insect. Further adding to this image was the full-face helmet that had dark lenses, glossy black, and impenetrable insect-like eyes. Over the back and shoulders were aerodynamic packs in a twin-bulbed case that contained a simple thruster propulsion system. Not that the HAWCs would need any more speed on their way down, but as they had no parachutes, there would be a reverse blast from the turbine fans when they needed to slow. Parachutes could be seen from the air, and in some cases even picked up on radar. A single falling body, with low metallic trace, was harder to see… and therefore harder to hit.