“Okay, you’re right. I don’t believe it. There was nothing on sat scans. Nothing on Google Earth or half-a-dozen geographic aerial photos.”
As Aleman spoke, the others melted back into the edge of the storm cloud behind them, until the building was no longer visible, and they were concealed from any prying eyes on the tops of the battlements, the style of which reminded King of the Great Wall of China. The sloped walls, constructed from rammed-earth, brick and stone, had crenellated tops, all supporting four corner watchtowers. He had glimpsed it only for a moment before moving back into the cover of the raging storm, but that was enough for him to question his location, since the nearest segments of the Great Wall should have been almost 400 miles to the southwest.
“Are we at the right coordinates, Blue?” King asked.
“That’s confirmed. My best guess would be that the Mongolians built it to be modeled after the guard tower sections along the Great Wall, which they would have been familiar with. Why? Beats me. The top must be painted in local camo patterns to conceal the structure from sat photos. And the area is covered in clouds or outright storms, like you’re dealing with, for much of the year. It’s still amazing nothing showed it being there.”
King settled flat on the snowy ground with the others. If the particulates in the air were swept away by another gust, their suits would camouflage them somewhat. All of them kept their weapons trained toward the strange building in the desert. “Sounds like the perfect place for Bright Tomorrow to operate out of. But I wonder why none of the other teams found it.”
Aleman had tasked the team with finding the terrorist command camp after several attempts by US and joint European teams had failed to locate the headquarters. Most of the special forces teams sent into the stormy region of desert had simply not returned. Those who had come back alive complained of supernatural creatures in the sand that had killed or eaten entire squads of men. The stories had been conflicting and unbelievable – exactly the sort of thing Chess Team faced on a regular basis.
Although the team had been surprised by the sight of the building when they had been expecting caves, King was already strategically assessing the situation. “Bishop, take the 240 and break right. One hundred yards, and set up there. Crawl forward until you can just barely see the building. The edge of the storm probably won’t hold here, but you should have some cover.”
Bishop collected the big gun and slipped away into the white gloom.
“Rook and Queen, break left.” King didn’t need to elaborate any further. “Knight and Pawn, the back. Find a way in. Those towers look like good overwatch.”
“Visibility would be crap from up there, but we’ll find something,” Knight replied. He and Pawn were up and following Queen and Rook to the left. They would then circle around the left side of the structure to the back. That left King to cover the front of the building – a hundred yard long wall with a massive twenty-foot high set of banded wooden doors in the middle, closed against the rage of the storm.
He crawled forward in the blinding snow and sand, noticing for the first time that the grit scraping across the full faceplate of his helmet was actually scratching the plastic. If this went on too long, they would be blind, even when the wind cleared the air. Another of a thousand small variables he filed away in his head for later.
“Blue, how long until you can get us infrared coverage?” King asked Aleman.
“Another twenty minutes – and that’s if I can get in. It’s a DARPA satellite, and their encryption is crazy.”
“Do what you can. I’d like to know if someone’s coming up on us from behind, before they actually step on me.”
“It’s not that bad,” Knight mumbled.
King recalled a report from a mission Knight had been on in Uganda, where a soldier had actually been standing on Knight’s concealed sniper position – had actually been standing on Knight’s arm, completely oblivious to the danger he was in. If that was the only time that ever happened, King would be happy.
He felt a twitching sensation at the back of his neck, and quickly whirled around, scanning the swirling white and tan haze. The base looked abandoned, but King’s instincts told him it wasn’t. Not being able to see or hear in the field was as limiting as wearing a bag over his head. With the helmet keeping in heat as well, he couldn’t even smell an attacker sneaking up on him. The only thing the team had going for them was the weather. It was unlikely any Bright Tomorrow security would be outside in this mess – and the building looked pretty sturdy against attack. Between its remote location, the camouflaged roof and the extreme temperatures and low visibility, they probably had their forces set up inside the outer walls of the building. It would be enough. That’s how King would have done it.
“Knight, are you in position in back?”
“We’re up top, in back. Place is totally deserted. Looks like no one has been up on these walls all winter.” It didn’t surprise King that Knight and Pawn would have taken the initiative to scale the back wall without reporting on the lack of posted guards. They all knew each other’s strengths and played to them.
“North and east are clear,” came Bishop’s thick Slavic accent.
“South is… wait. Do you feel that?” Rook said.
King was about to reply when he did feel it. A tremor in the ground. Aleman had briefed them about the region, which was prone to mild earthquakes and aftershocks. After a second, the rumbling sensation faded. “Just a quake. Moving on the door. Watch me.”
King stood in a low crouch, waited for a strong gust of wind and then sprinted forward, toward the looming doors of the big building. He zigzagged as he ran, hoping to throw off the aim of any guards Knight and Pawn might have missed. They were at the back of the square, castle-like base, and the length of each wall was over 100 yards, so even with Knight’s keen eye, they might have missed someone in the front. But with Rook and Queen on one side of him, and Bishop on the other, King felt safe in making the dash to the wall.
When he reached the sloped surface next to the looming doors, he turned his back to the stone, sweeping his SCAR back toward the snowstorm. If there was a threat above him on the fortress wall, Bishop would have him covered. He was far more concerned about the concealment the storm afforded anyone circling behind the team. And if he was honest, the rumors of supernatural creatures had him on edge – he’d faced things that shouldn’t have been possible on more than one occasion.
He turned and faced the door, prepared to plant one of Rook’s explosive spikes in the dirt in front of the threshold, but at the last second he had an idea. The doors had massive circular iron rings for handles, about the size of dinner platters, hanging at King’s shoulder height. He guessed most of the much shorter Mongolians would have had to reach up for the handle. King just reached straight out and grasped the ring in his gloved hand.
He tugged, and the door opened, as if its hinges had been oiled at least sometime in the last week – otherwise all the grit in the air would have jammed them up.
“The place might look abandoned, but someone’s here.”
3
Knight hurried along the edge of the crenellated wall, running his hand along the edge of the parapet for balance. He knew Pawn would be on his blind side, doing the same. The wind was worse up on the forty-foot tall wall, and the snow and sand blew so hard that he couldn’t see more than a few feet.