“Engage optical stealth mode,” Snap said into the COM system. The hardened surfaces of Snap’s FALOS suit and jet wing were covered in light emitting tiles that would reflect his surroundings, in this case, an overcast sky. The rest of the squad followed suit.
Snap was at such a great altitude that he could easily make out the curvature of the earth and the mountains in the distance. Snap’s HUD showed the outside temperature was negative 47 degrees, but it was a comfortable 72 degrees in his FALOS suit. At this height, there was not enough oxygen. Snap’s battle armor had a breathing apparatus that not only allowed for high altitude breathing, but also protected against most biological and chemical weapons.
The Russians had recently deployed numerous advanced SA-400 missile launchers to Siberia. Initial reports suggested that they were capable of tracking and destroying hypersonic craft, such as the TR3C, but so far there was no indication that they had been detected. On his HUD, he noticed that the TR3C that they had just jumped from had veered off toward the Russian Air Defense Gap. Snap believed that the FIGAS wings were too small to be detected by most Russian radar systems.
As Snap’s FIGAS unit brought him closer to the surface, he could see the barren landscape of Russia’s Siberian region. The ground was covered in an untouched snow. Even though Snap could see for miles in every direction, there were no signs of human habitation: no houses, factories, towns, or automobiles. Nothing but snow, rocks, and lonely land filled his view. To his left, away from the mountain range, he saw the crater with a thin line of smoke drifting up into the semi-luminous sky.
“What are those mushroom cloud looking things on the horizon?” Williams asked.
“Which direction?” Davis asked.
“All directions,” Neal said. “There are large pillars of dark clouds rising from the ground in the distance – in every direction.”
“West, they appear to be a couple of hundred miles away from our landing zone,” Snap said.
“There is more going on here than they told us about,” Neal said, with concern in his voice.
“No shit, Neal. I think we are seeing compartmentalization at its finest,” Snap replied sarcastically.
“Does anyone see the equipment rover?” Snap asked.
“It’s tracking about a half mile East of the target zone,” Williams said.
General Byrd’s voice came across the COM, “Russia just dispatched six Mig-31s from Kamchatka, about 1,100 miles away. They are over an hour out, but you need to get that portable invisibility dome up in a hurry.”
“Won’t they need to refuel?” Snap asked.
“Affirmative, the target location is on the outside of their range, they will be able to refuel at the Magadan airport. They will fly over your location with full tanks.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Moscow, Russia
Nox and his trusted officers had rushed out of the lobby of the brand-new conference center and back to their black SUVs. The trip back to Nox’s bunker was quick as the SUVs sped across the base at over 90 miles an hour. Standing in the command center at Nox’s underground base, the men stood around a large monitor that displayed a tactical map of Far East Russia and the Arctic Circle. Nox was happy that the humans had developed to the point where they had flat screen display technology; he hated the old paper maps of WWII.
“What is our situation?” Nox asked.
“Up on the screen we have a map of Far East Russia, which includes the Kamchatka Peninsula. There are six red dots in the north-east section of the Magadan Oblast, where we believe the explosions occurred.”
“We don’t know where the explosions were?” Nox asked, placing an emphasis on ‘know.’
“No sir, we have no visual confirmation, other than our satellite images.”
“No reports from local inhabitants?” Nox asked.
“No, it is a very remote part of Russia; there is less than one person for every 10 square miles of land in this region.”
“Have we deployed jets to do a fly over?”
“They are being readied as we speak.”
“How long until they are over the site?
“Could be two hours.”
“Two hours! Why so long?”
“The impacts occurred near the arctic circle. We have very few military assets in that region. The closest military airfield is in Kamchatka. Our fighters will have to refuel in Magadan before continuing to the crash sites.”
“I don’t think this is an asteroid. I want reports immediately as we get them. I want Special Forces on Mil-35s heading to the sites immediately. Don’t wait until the jets report back,” Nox said.
“Dispatch one helicopter to each site. Divert as necessary depending on the reports from the fighters. How long will it take for the helicopters to arrive?” Nox asked.
“Several hours. Again, we have very few assets in the region.”
“Can we dispatch ground forces?”
“No. The roads are impassable this time of year.” The General shook his head and looked at the floor.
“So, we can build a supersonic plane capable of Mach 3 speed, but we can’t build a road?” Nox asked sarcastically.
“This district is very poor with a very small population. The weather conditions make it a very undesirable place to live. The population has been shrinking for two decades now. It’s hard to justify road construction expenses for so few people.”
“How many dead?” Nox asked.
“Almost none.” The General was happy to finally have a good answer to one of Nox’s questions.
“Really? Six mega impacts, spread over hundreds of miles and no deaths? How is that possible? Pull up the map again, and overlay it with the latest population map.”
“Well, very few deaths, compared to the explosions.” General Popov said as he pulled up the population map. The population map placed little red dots where people were known to have lived.
“Overlay the suspected blast radius based on current information.”
The Russians stared at the map in disbelief.
“It could not have been better. There is no better way to place five nuclear explosions that would have killed less people. What are the odds that a naturally occurring phenomenon would impact six times, each time, killing the least possible amount of people?” Nox asked.
“Not only that, General Bellator, look at the distances between the explosions. Each impact is two to three hundred miles apart, almost in a cluster. If it were natural, some of the impacts would be close to one another,” General Popov said.
Nox stood back and stared at the map. “This is intentional. Its purpose was not to cripple our military or harm our people. It was not for shock and awe because almost no one saw it.”
Nox sat down in his custom-made, over-sized, black, executive roller chair. “No, the person who did this was trying to hide something.”
“What do you suppose that is, General Bellator?”
“I don’t know. The question is: was their intent to divert our attention, or destroy the object?”
“Seems to me, they wanted to divert out attention,” Popov said.
“Why is that?” Nox asked.
“You don’t need six nuclear explosions to destroy something.”
Nox stood up, slammed his fist on the table. “I want all of our assets in the region moved to the Port of Magadan. Send the Pacific carrier group to Magadan. Dispatch a squadron of Mig-31s to Magadan airport. Start moving ground forces toward the impact sites. I don’t care if they have to hike in; make it happen. Whatever is going on in Magadan, we are going to be ready for it.”