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“They seem to get along, for the most part. When they feel a threat, they come together, that’s for sure. They split up, attack you from multiple sides. The fucks can blend in, too. They move like a flock of birds when they’re in the open. Ever wonder how a flock of birds just knows when to turn? These things are no different. They act in a collective manner. They attack with no mercy,” York said.
“I’ll never understand why they didn’t send more of us in,” Clements said. He was allowing York’s insane talk to get to his head.
“The region is infested. They’re outgrowing that valley. Soon, they’ll cross the countryside, and make trouble. Pakistan is not far, major cities beyond that. Russia to the north. It’d be a mess. We’re here to do the dirty work. We’re here to prevent them from spreading,” York said.
He continued, “They have oval shaped heads, the crowns protruding up like giant deformities, their chins and jaw lines extended. Their teeth are more like a shark’s now, their mouths are wide, stretched nearly ear to ear. The first generation, those in the cave when it happened, they turned red. Some morphed into other things. Combined with reptiles. It wasn’t all instant. You can almost tell they’re evolving. Not sure how. The other generations are different. Mostly white, they see little to no light. Their jaws are likes vices, though. They can crush a man’s head, rip open your gut. Then, once they have you down, they suck out your insides. That’s what happened to Ramirez. Saw him get his guts sucked out. The things were eating his intestines like we would slop up spaghetti.”
“That’s fucking sick,” Clements exclaimed, anxiety starting to set in.
“Be ready. These other generations are as fast as an Olympic runner. Shit, I’d say more like a thoroughbred,” York warned. He looked hard at Clements, adding, “Know what’s strange about ants? Know what they do after a massacre?”
“No, what’s that?” Clements asked.
“They try to hide it, to cover it up.”
“Why? They’re just ants.”
“Don’t know, but it’s true. It’s as if their actions embarrass them.”
“Bullshit,” Clements exclaimed.
“It’s true. When you near ’em, they seem to become aware. They crouch, cower and flail their antennae. It’s as if they’re trying to stop you from stepping on ’em,” York explained.
“Probably natural. Self-defense mechanism,” Comstock interjected, attempting to ground the subject, attempting to stop York’s rambling. Dale Comstock was a realist, a man who only understood what he could see and hear and touch. He didn’t ponder the mysteries of the universe, he didn’t ask questions that had no answers. He was a man of fact, of direct action to solve a specific problem.
As luck would have it, the cabin lights flickered. The normal lighting shut down, bright green lights filling the space. They heard a chime, and knew it was time to ready themselves for the jump.
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Green light and they gathered their gear, strapped it tight. Checked it three times, checking out one another’s as well. Then, they attached their parachutes, and side compartments for their air supply. They would need to move rapidly, down to fourteen thousand feet before they could disregard the respirators. This didn’t leave them much time.
Yellow light. They stood in a row, facing the rear of the plane. Rivers and Svetlana were at the front of the line. This didn’t make sense to her. She was beyond nervous as Rivers attached his harness to hers, double checking the lock, cinching her tight into his body. This calmed her — somewhat.
Red light. It was time. A loud noise filled the cabin, and slowly, on the belly of the plane, near its tail, a large door opened downward. It was hydraulic, and steadily opened, revealing the dark sky below them.
Distinct hisses were heard, each man giving a thumbs up their oxygen was working. Rivers pushed at Svetlana’s arm, and she remembered. Thumbs up, she could breath.
Then, the countdown…
The team of nine jumped from the Gulfstream.
Svetlana kept her eyes closed the entire way down, strapped to Rivers, hanging on for dear life.
Finally, after drifting for what felt like forever, they found their LZ, each setting down gracefully. Nearby was the hidden cache of weapons as promised, and the team began to ready themselves. They had a long hike ahead of them, up a mountain and to the other side. It took most of the day, and they reached the valley of darkness just as the sun began to lower on the horizon.
93
“Let’s check COMMS, then we’ll recon the valley,” Dale said.
“Roger that, One. This is Delta Two,” Jefferson replied into his mic.
“Delta Three,” Clements said.
“Delta Four,” Thompson said.
“Delta Five,” Hernandez said.
“Delta Six,” Marcus said.
“Delta Seven,” York said, a wide grin on his face.
“Check, this is Hollywood One,” Rivers said into his small mic.
They each had one, each attached high on their chest, earpieces in their ears, for the moment they could hear clearly.
Comstock looked at Svetlana. “Test your mic, ma’am.”
“Oh, okay… hello. This is Hollywood Two.”
“Roger that,” Comstock said, his hand to his earpiece, nodding his head.
A flicker of static.
A pop, a hiss of empty air waves.
“Delta One, this is Hotel Bravo. I can hear you fine,” Elizabeth said from the comfort of her control room miles away.
“Roger, Hotel Bravo,” Comstock acknowledged.
Another wave of emptiness and another voice came over the airwaves.
“Delta One, this is Sierra Bravo Four,” the voice said in their ears.
“Is that—?” Clements began.
“Um, Hotel Bravo… this is Hollywood One,” Rivers began, “… we have an unknown.”
“That’s a roger on what you’re about to ask,” Elizabeth said. “Sierra Bravo Four is your eyes today. Now good luck. Update me at second waypoint. I’ll be listening in. Good luck, gentlemen and lady.”
Clements turned to Comstock, saying, “Shit, the Colonel’s here?”
“Seems so.”
“Where’s he at?”
“Why don’t you ask him,” Comstock replied.
But Clements paused, unsure of what to say. He couldn’t imagine a man of such rank, of such influence, would be on the ground on such a mission.
Rivers was the one who spoke up, saying, “Sierra Bravo Four, what’s your location, over?”
“Once you get up in this valley, I’m at your two o’clock. I’ll move in tighter once you near, but for the moment, I have eyes on,” Reynolds replied over the radio.
“Good to have you looking out for us,” Rivers said.
“Roger,” Colonel Reynolds responded. “Couldn’t let you boys have all the fun. Besides, someone had to represent my team.”
They all knew what he was talking about: The United States Marine Corps.
Semper Fi, Reynolds thought.
He then continued, saying, “Have a good angle of fire, a few alleys, eyes on and all clear at present. Village is quiet. I see four dozen potential tangos, though none armed. Seems quiet right now.”