“A biological presence, one that looks like a man, but not really. One that is not only faster and stronger than us, but far more cunning. I knew, the moment I went inside, that they could sense us. Maybe it was smell, but I think it was something else. A sixth sense, I suppose,” York admitted.
“So you’re saying we don’t own the element of surprise?” Dale asked.
“Not really. Once we enter their valley, we take that chance. Once we enter their lair, they’ll know.”
“Great,” Dale muttered. “Any other good news?”
“The reason we’re going in right now, a daylight mission, is simple. Those fuckers attacked the villagers. They’ve been known to venture out. Bet ya that Elizabeth gal didn’t tell you that.”
“No,” Dale admitted.
“Well, they’re roaming. Venturing out of the cave. It all started three weeks ago, when my team went in. We unlocked Pandora’s Box, which is the creatures’ wrath against us.”
“Still don’t get why we can’t just drop some bunker busters on down and call it a day,” Clements said.
“Because the cave is deep, reinforced. We couldn’t ensure one hundred percent success is my guess. Boys, they’ve sent us on an impossible mission. They want us to kill them all. I saw, with my own eyes, hundreds. I think there’s more,” York explained.
“We going to have enough ammo?” Clements asked, concerned.
Thompson leaned in, speaking up. “If that Michael guy did his job right, more ammo will be at LZ1. Better be, at least, or that punk will have to deal with me.”
“It’ll be there,” Dale commented. “Elizabeth knows what she’s doing. We go in brutal, use unconventional tactics. Hit them with shock and awe and get out of there. Good firing, don’t waste ammo and we’ll be fine. We’re to go in and kill every single one of them. Seek and destroy and get the fuck out,” Dale added.
“As long as I have my M240, I’ll be good,” Clements said, patting the massive machine gun that was secured tight to his chest. “If I have enough ammo, I’ll waste them all.”
“Remember this — this valley is a clusterfuck of the bizarre and downright impossible. You’ll be entering down the rabbit hole on this one. You think I’m crazy, I know this. But you just wait. For all intents and purposes, this is mankind’s fight with something truly different than us. Another life-form.”
“If they’re casting for the next Alien movie, I’d suggest Hollywood over there,” Clements taunted.
Rivers didn’t respond.
“I’ll see if I can explain. It’d be good to know what you’re up against,” York added.
“Yeah, that’s the reason you’re here,” Dale said. He knew their flight time, knew they had to start readying themselves soon.
“What are the most abundant species in the desert valley?” York asked.
“Huh? Shit, I don’t know. Lizards. Maybe scorpions. Damn, I’ve seen a few too many vultures,” Dale said.
“No, it’s ants.”
“Ants?”
“Yes. Think of them as ants. A menace, no doubt, and nearly impossible to kill.”
“Nothing a bit of Raid won’t cure,” Clements jested.
“Don’t mock them, I’m simply trying to let you know what you’re up against. I have assumptions, ideas, but I do know they’re aggressive. They killed my guys, we killed them. They simply overtook us. When they feel threatened, they attack as a swarm,” York explained.
It was Rivers who finally spoke up, all eyes on him. “Well, that sort of makes sense. The Mujahideen did that, as do the Taliban. They fight viciously for their territory, coming together. The Mujahideen though, they’d literally swarm their enemies. Acted in cohesion, so maybe the chemical did something to amplify that. They’re still beatable, though.”
“Now what makes you think that?” York questioned across the length of the plane. He seemed a bit angered.
“We have the element of surprise,” Rivers began. “More importantly, supply lines. Yes, those fighters would have weapons, and yes, even an AK-47 can be stored for long periods of time. Thing is, they’ve been there twenty-six years. Nobody in, nobody out. They’ve stayed put, and the chances of their firearms working, or even being properly supplied, benefits us.”
“So, because we have the guns, eh?” York asked.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”
“The Mujahideen were very skilled in taking down helicopters. In essence, it helped the Soviets lose the war. They’d fire RPGs and often were accurate, causing the Hinds to fly higher and higher, therefore giving ground units less coverage,” York said.
“Your point?”
“That was with RPGs. But have you ever seen helicopters destroyed by bare hands?”
“No, have you?”
“No, but I saw the pictures,” York said.
“Liar!” Clements belted. “Enough with this shit. I’ve heard enough about monsters. If that’s what we’re up against, fuck it. Just tell me how to beat ’em.”
“I don’t have those answers, but if you’d shut your mouth, I’ll explain how they’ll defeat us,” York replied.
90
“I was part of Task Force 121. Ya know, the guys who took out Saddam and his sons? We did our shit, spilt blood in the sand and wind and we did it well,” York said.
“That’s where I know ya, brother,” Jefferson stated. “I remember you now. Task Force 121—hard-asses, brother. Tough bunch!” he complimented.
“Weathers. He was part of the team, right?” Dale asked York.
“Yup. Good man.”
“Yeah, I know. He’s a friend…”
“Speaks highly of you too, Sergeant Comstock. All you boys of Task Force 77. Weathers saved my ass a few times in Iraq,” York said.
“He’s saved my ass too,” Dale said.
“Where?” York asked.
“Elsewhere,” Comstock replied.
“Well, we share a common bond I guess. How nice,” York said, sarcasm in his voice. “Point is, did a few tours in that shit of a wasteland called Iraq. I hear modern civilization came to those parts. I disagree, though. I say modern civilization hurried to leave. The whole Middle East — nothing holy about it. Part of the reason I came here, to Afghanistan, was because of that place. Weathers talked about the teams here, figured a change of pace was necessary.”
“What’s the other part?” Clements leaned forward in his seat, curious about York.
“Heard you boys were having trouble with the Taliban. Figured I’d come to help out,” York said, grinning.
“You have a point, or are you just telling us a story?” Dale asked.
Ignoring him, York continued, “We’d been pushing for days. Pushing hard. We’d finally dug in, got real comfortable right outside Baghdad. Right out there in the sand with the fleas and blistering sun, sand blowing in your eyes… So we settled in. I’m exhausted, everyone is. My turn to get a few hours rest. It turned into thirteen minutes.”
“What happened?” Clements asked.
“The Iraqis helping us don’t know shit about soldiering. They get spooked easy. They shoot at shadows. Either way, I was so tired, I’d have no problem sleeping. Went into a damn near coma until I was woken up by a strange feeling, a pain I’d felt before, though not this bad. Fucking ants, man. Fucking ants. They pretty much crawled all over my body and bit the dog-shit outta me. Ha! Imagine that, taking a nap and waking up by those bastards like that.”
“Yeah, that would suck,” Clements responded, still wondering where the story was going.
“It did. But you see, here’s the thing. Here’s what makes it wild. Those little bastards waited — they took their time — they acted as one. I would have felt the first bite or two, would have woken up real quick. But they waited, coming from who knows where, crawling up my pants, down my shirt, into my sleeves, into my socks. Then, all at once, they began biting. Sure as fuck they worked as a cohesive unit. These monsters — they’re like ants, in a way. Stronger, faster, brutal in their tactics,” York finished explaining. “Think of them that way, and you’ll fare better.”