Chapter 14
At Toronto’s Pierson airport, Seb stepped out of the rift point and into the dark mop closet.
It being dark was a good sign that he wasn’t going to be spotted by a late night janitorial visit, so he made his way over to the door and cracked it open just enough to see into the maintenance corridor beyond.
Empty. Good.
He jogged over to the ladder that went up to the roof and started climbing, heading up to the roof. The area above was better lit than inside when he pushed open the trap door and peered around, but none of the lights were directly on the rooftop.
Doubt they’ll be looking for anyone here, but I best move quickly.
He pulled a hood up over his head and crawled out onto the roof, then ran over to the wall where another ladder led up even higher. Seb started climbing, even as his mind was focused on what he’d just seen.
The alien drones transmit footage… we didn’t know that, but I remember some people suggested it.
Just never able to prove it. Has to be more than just video, our soldiers transmitted everything from video, audio, biometrics, environmental information…
even rad count and chemical sniffer data.
If they’re sending video, they’re sending more.
He scaled the side of the next building and found a shadowed corner to setup in. The go bag had some mobile antennas and other gear, while he had Al and his tablet tucked away in pockets.
It was the work of a few moments to set them all up.
“Al, can you still grab that transmission?”
“A moment, Mein Herr… yes, the signal is still available.”
Seb breathed a sigh of relief. The mobile gear he had was pretty much the same as the antenna he had on a tower back home, but he wasn’t certain if he’d be able to get the signal this far out all the same.
They modulated their signal for range, which has to be intentional.
Without the internet, or most of the satellites in low orbit for a bounce, this is their solution to a world wide tactical network.
No architecture to be discovered, no infrastructure to be taken out…
just signals encrypted so well that it took a quantum machine to decode even the most basic of them.
It’s no wonder we never got a damn thing out of them.
“Show me what’s happening.”
*****
The target was more visible than Rico had expected it to be in the low light, but he was pretty sure that had something to do with the multiple thirty round mags of 7.62 NATO rounds being dumped unceremoniously into it from close range.
It held one limb up as a partial shield, staggering back under the fusillade as Rico fumbled his way through a mag change while trying to crawl away from the damn thing, then chambered a round and put the rifle back on target.
That… thing… was roaring, anger, fear… honestly, Rico couldn’t tell. Could have been joy for all he knew, the sound wasn’t like anything he ever heard before. There wasn’t an animal on the planet that could make a sound like that.
The alien from outer space story is starting to sound a lot more likely than I want to believe.
It wasn’t going down under the fusillade, however, and that was a much bigger problem for him at the moment than how weird the damned thing sounded.
*****
Seb watched as multiple rifles roared, all aiming right at the source of the video he was watching, but there was no sign of the invader’s drone going down.
Something’s wrong. I can’t tell what kind of rifles those are… Seb growled, “Al, can you identify the rifles we’re seeing?”
“Heckler and Koch G3 Battle Rifles, mein herr.”
“Battle rifles… those are high powered rounds then, it should be going down.” Seb said, mostly to himself. “Al, scrub the transmission data, pull anything you can. Identify the attacker. I need class and full stats, now.”
“This will take a moment, Mein Herr. I no longer have access to the Mountain’s Quantum System Eight cluster.”
“Just do what you can.”
“Working, Mein Herr.”
Seb was frustrated, he had some of the best combat footage with the alien invaders ever recorded… and none of it was useful for the moment, because it was filming the human defenders instead of the aliens!
The absurdity made him want to laugh.
The footage he was watching made him want to cry.
“Mein Herr… I found something in a layered transmission feed.” Al said, sounding almost… confused.
“What is it?” Seb asked, frowning. Al almost never triggers his emotional emulation system.
“The layering system the transmission is using was developed for internet streaming in the twenty tens, Mein Herr.”
Seb blinked, “What? No, explain later. Show me what you found.”
*****
Rico scrambled for cover as an electrical sound, followed by a distinct acidic twang in the air preceded a flash of blue that left him blinking away spots as a scream of pain replaced the electrical sound but he didn’t dare look around to see who’d been hit.
We need heavier weapons, damn it! He thought as he fumbled for another mag from his pouch. So much for Bastion’s intelligence.
He got the magazine seated, slapping it into place as he let the bolt drop on the open chamber and pull a round up into the battle rifle, already bringing it onto target when his radio let out a squeal-pop sound that he’d never heard before and then crackled to life.
“Seargent Lopez, Bastion,” the voice from his nightmares spoke through his earpiece.
His encrypted radio earpiece.
“Get off this channel,” He growled automatically as he aimed the rifle.
“You’re dealing with an up-armored drone,” Bastion said, ignoring him. “If you don’t have anti-tank weapons, you need to listen very carefully. Right. The. Hell. Now.”
This is different than last time, Lopez realized. Bastion’s actually on the channel. This isn’t pre-recorded, he’s talking to me.
“With battle rifles, you’ve only got one good chance,” Bastion said over the radio. “Get behind it, down low. The armor is designed to handle straight hits and tank artillery directly, but there’s a gap you can nail if you shoot up into the rear carapace. Did you get that?”
“Peek up its skirts from the back, plug the bad boy’s back hole with some 7.62 suppositories, sure. Got it.” Rico said sourly as he flipped over and started crawling as fast as he could manage.
Not like I have any better options.
“Huh. That’s cleaner than I’m used to hearing it described, but good enough.”
*****
Seb huddled down into the darkest corner he could find, eyes glued to the tablet as one part of his brain wondered just how long he had before the RCMP raided the airport.
The situation on the ground in Afghanistan was far from ideal, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d been concerned about either. An armored combat drone was tough, but not unbeatable… not with decent weapons and some basic tactics, at least.
Unusual for one of those to be guarding some random point, though. What’s this station used for?
Frankly, he would love to know what any of them were used for.
Seb had to assume it was some sort of coordination system, though it felt a little bit like a stretch if he were honest about it.
“Al, make sure we’re recording everything from all these stations,” He said. “I want them scoured for hidden layers.”
“Of course, Mein Herr,” Al responded. “I’ve taken the liberty of adjusting my analysis methodology already.
The layered broadcast is more intricate than previous scans would have found, with the knowledge that they’re using streaming protocols I should be able to glean more intelligence from the signals. ”
Using streaming protocols… more like streaming was built on their technology, Seb thought darkly. How deep were they embedded?
He would have to wonder about that more in the future, though, because at the moment he felt a surge of adrenaline spike through his system as he watched the screen.
“Tell Lopez to roll left! Now!”
*****
“Roll left, Sergeant. Now.”
Lopez threw himself to the left just as a blast of something scorched the mountain granite and dirt as he rolled clear. He kicked off the ground and threw himself behind a boulder, sucking in a deep breath as he hugged his rifle close and tried to think small, hoping the boulder was enough cover.
Bastion’s warning is all that saved me… He can see us.
Paranoid, Lopez looked around and up for any sign of surveillance. A camera and transmitter seemed ludicrous, but he wasn’t taking anything for granted at the moment. There was nothing, of course, not even a plane in the sky.
Satellite imagery? No way, nothing up there has resolution that good.
“Get ready to move, Sergeant. To your right, on my call. Hold… Hold… Now! Move!”
Lopez took the chance and surged out from cover, going from a dead stop to a full sprint in his combat gear in one second flat. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see the… thing… turning on the rest of the team as half of them emptied mags into it while the rest reloaded.
While it’s distracted. Gotta move. Gotta move.
His legs pumped as he felt his heart pounding between his ears, the thing was starting to turn back his way.
Rico threw himself bodily forward, shouldering the landing with a crunching sensation that he did not like the sound or feel of, but he ignored it for the moment as he muscled the G3 around and found himself looking right up the beastie’s skirt.
In that chaotic moment of pain, motion, and terror he saw exactly what Bastion had told him about.
Got you, He thought, finger tightening on the rifle until it roared.
Twenty rounds of 7.62mm, each one weighing ten grams and moving twenty eight hundred feet per second while delivering twenty four hundred foot pounds of muzzle energy per round hammered home at near point blank.
The creature arced its back, roaring as it did a little dance that was more loony tunes from the horror dimension than the macabre death twitches of an actual person.
Rico was already reloading, as he got to one knee.
When the thing slumped forward, he leveled the rifle again and gave it a second dose.
Lightning danced across the unearthly form, limbs and its body losing the ethereal camouflage it had been using as it crumpled to the Afghan mountainside.
Rico slowly got to his feet, his rifle empty now and all his magazines with it. He let the G3 hang from its strap as he drew his service pistol, a 1911 forty-five ACP, and cautiously covered the heap as he looked around.
“Cap? Who’s still up?”
“Jesus Christ, Lopez,” Pruso swore from where he was painfully picking himself off the dirt, clearly favoring his left arm and probably his ribs from the looks of things. “I thought you were exaggerating.”
Lopez snorted, not taking his eyes off the target.
“I’d have to know what I was talking about to exaggerate it, Sir.” He said, breathing heavy.
“Right. Medics, check everyone.” Pruso ordered. “We need to be out of here before the Russians drop a Hind on our asses.”
“Problem there, sir. We’ve got casualties.” One of the medics said wearily. “Parks is down and out. Jackie’s not much better.”
“Patch up who you can,” Pruso ordered, his voice tense. “I’ve got to talk to higher.”
Rico inched close enough to kick the… corpse? Detritus? He didn’t know what to call it, but it didn’t move when he nudged it with his foot, and barely shuddered at a full kick. He was pretty sure it was down for the count, but didn’t want to turn his back on it just the same.
“Hey LT,” He called softly, tilting his head. “Let them know, Bastion made contact.”
*****
Seb flinched as the screen went dead, but that was the outcome he was hoping for.
“We have anything else out of the scene?”
“Not as of yet, Sir.”
He tilted his head, listening.
No sirens.
Better move anyway, I can’t do anymore here and now.
He opened a rift point in the shadows, and stepped through. A few seconds later he was back home, sitting on his own bed as he took deep breaths and felt his hand start shaking as he strained to hear if his mother was awake or not.
*****
Lopez was slumped as he sat on the boulder he’d used for cover, eyes not leaving the body of the… thing. He didn’t know what the hell it was, but it wasn’t Russian. That he was now sure of.
If they built this thing, I’ll eat my helmet. He thought grimly. I mean, may as well, cause the Cold War is already lost in that case.
He didn’t know what to think about it, but he was sure of that much.
Captain Pruso quietly stepped up beside him, leaning on the boulder as well.
“They’re risking a Helo evac,” Pruso said quietly.
Rico looked over sharply, “Seriously?”
That was insane. The provocation that a Helo entry into Soviet airspace represented couldn’t be underestimated. If it went wrong, it could turn the cold war hot pretty damned fast.
“Two Black Hawks, four Apaches… and a Chinook.”
“A chinook? Why would…” Rico paused, eyes falling again on the thing on the ground. “Ah.”
“Yeah, they want it. They want it big time.” Pruso said, shaking his head. “Since they’re coming in anyway, they’ll give us a lift. The border is less than fifty miles from here, straight flying.”
Rico nodded, “Got it. Debrief is going to be fun.”
Pruso grunted.
“Better secure the area,” Rico suggested, nodding to the hut. “Maybe we find something.”
“Yeah.”
*****