“This much death and destruction, without any flashy pronouncements of godhood or any other idiotic evil overlord nonsense?” she asked, her lips tilting up in the corners. “Let’s say that I consider it a fair bet.”
“Right,” Masters said dryly. “So she is probably close. What else?”
“It’ll have to be warm,” Norton said after a moment. “Colder temperatures slow them down, like they would for any cold-blooded beast.”
“That doesn’t narrow things down much. They could find heat in any of the houses or buildings since the power’s still on.”
“So we cut the power,” Hannah said with a delicate shrug of her shoulders.
Masters exchanged a glance with Norton, and then looked over to where Rankin had joined them a few moments before.
“What do you two think?”
“Makes sense,” Rankin shrugged. “If we can’t find the bitch, let’s flush her out.”
Masters frowned at his old friend, surprised that Eddie of all people was taking Hannah at her word concerning patient zero’s sex. That said, it did make sense to him, so he glanced back at Norton. “Any reason not to?”
“None I can think of. Do we know where the generators are for this place?”
“We do.”
The first of the two Asatru men spoke as he stepped in closer.
“There’s an electricity co-op in the southern district of town,” the man said. “It runs off the compressed natural gas from the wells. Shutting it down without blowing the place up will be the trick.”
“We’ve got an EOD specialist,” Masters said. “If we have to, blowing the place up is an option. Still, I suppose it would be better to leave it in one piece.”
He considered it, then glanced over to Rankin. “You served some time in the engineering section of some big ships. Can you take care of it?”
Rankin shrugged, thinking about it for a moment. “Yeah, no problem. CNG is a little different from diesel, to be sure, but it can’t be too different. We’ll have to watch for pressure valves and monitors, though.”
“All right, we’ll hit the power generators first.” Masters nodded, crouching down as he pulled out his map of the town and braced it on one knee while hitting it with his flashlight. “Where is it?”
The Asatru man who’d spoken pointed out the spot on the map. “Right here.”
“All right, so we’re better off circling south and coming in from the west?”
“Yes, sir,” the man said.
“Right. Okay, then that’s what we’ll do,” Masters decided. “We’ll slip in near the coast this time, and then cut down toward the co-op. Everyone good?”
“Houah, sir.”
Masters glanced at the man, his eyes speculative. “Ranger?”
“One-o-one, sir.” The man smiled. “Pardon me for saying so, but it took you long enough to ask.”
“I didn’t want to annoy anyone Alex considers worthy of his time,” Masters admitted. “Your friend?”
“Sammy’s a crazy Canuck,” the Ranger said. “JTF2.”
Masters nodded, whistling silently. A Ranger and one of Canada’s special-operations men — he couldn’t have asked for much better. The Ranger title spoke for itself in his opinion. Masters himself was Ranger tabbed, as were many SEALs, so he knew that the man beside him knew how to think and operate under pressure.
Joint Task Force Two, on the other hand, was Canada’s special-forces group. They were trained to Special Air Service standards, and they held themselves fully up to said standards. Unlike the United States forces, who both enjoyed and courted a certain infamy, the Canadians believed in operational security. They didn’t go on reality TV, and they didn’t talk — they just served, and then went home.
Officially, more or less, the men of the JTF2 had been involved in every major world conflict of the last two decades save the second Iraq war. Canada had officially refused to back the United States’ invasion of Iraq. Unofficially, however, Masters had served some time in the sandbox, and he knew for a fact that there had been a couple of squads there quietly backing up the US troops. Canada and the United States were brother nations, and while brothers fight, they also have each other’s backs.
He extended a hand to the Ranger. “Hawk Masters.”
“Rick Plains.” The man shook his hand. “And the Canuck here is Perry Rand.”
“So how did a Ranger get into this Asatru stuff anyway?”
Rick shrugged. “Honestly, I just slid into it sideways. I wasn’t looking for a religion, but it felt right. Learned in the service that when something feels right, most times it is.”
Masters nodded; he could understand and appreciate that.
“Well, good to meet you.” Masters packed away the map. “Time to move.”
They all nodded, heading a little southwest as they started to circle down around the town and airfield. Masters silently thumbed his radio, speaking softly now. “On the move, Djinn. Can you spot for us?”
Perched hidden on his rooftop, Hale watched the group in the distance as they circled south around the airfield. There was nothing moving near them, so he sent a two-tone burst to give them the all clear.
The town was as dead as it had been when they’d first arrived, no pun intended. For the moment, the only things moving were the flames from the burning oil wells, and the dying fires around town and out on the strip where the C-130 had been.
That was one hell of a show. Nathan smiled very slightly. He’d been ready to blow his hide to cover those three, but it hadn’t been needed. He wasn’t sure how many of the things had burned up when the plane erupted, but it probably came close to matching the previous body count in one fell swoop.
CHAPTER 14
“Captain Andrews!”
Judith looked over at the junior Coast Guard officer and waved him off for a moment while she finished her instructions to the pilot of the chopper she and her men were about to take out. Only when that was done did she step back from the bird and join him.
“What is it, Lieutenant?”
“There’s radio traffic on the frequencies you had us monitor, ma’am.”
“In the clear?” she asked.
“No ma’am, encrypted and tone code, ma’am.”
Judith nodded. “Thank you.”
She dismissed him and headed straight for the three SEALs, who were waiting, more or less patiently, for their orders.
“Looks like Masters is on the move, gentlemen.”
They glanced at each other, then nodded.
“We know,” Mack said.
Judith rolled her eyes. “Nice of you to let me know.”
“He’s in contact with Hale,” Mack said. “Not sure what his play is, but The Djinn is covering him as he circles south and around town, back to near where we originally landed.”
Judith grimaced. Radio discipline was ironclad in these situations, and she knew it wasn’t her place to cut in and ask the idiot what the hell he was doing. He was in command of his squad in the field, and she couldn’t override that even under normal circumstances. Since the admiral had given her specific orders on the subject, her hands were tied.
Given her druthers, after what she’d seen, Judith would have pulled the whole team out of the field and called in an assault group.
Whatever the hell was going on in Barrow, she was damned well sure it wasn’t a job for a special-operations team.
“As soon as we get an idea of where they are and what the hell they’re up to,” she said, “we move out.”
“Ooh Rah,” the SEALs said as one.
She would have been a lot happier if they sounded a little more enthusiastic about it.
Harold “Hawk” Masters was splayed out over a semifrozen dirt embankment to the west of Barrow, looking into town through a pair of high-powered binoculars.