"Where have you been, Campion?" snapped the general.
"My feet just touched the ground, sir."
"What's the status of Gant's team?"
"We have confirmation of insertion from the transport, nothing since the drop. I expect communication from them within the hour and will update you immediately."
"What about support?"
"We have a task force en route. Colonel Thunder is coordinating with NSA and DOD. They're tracking transmissions sent from the island before the incident."
"Yes, I know, I spoke to the colonel," Friez shared. "She thinks satellite phones and radio transmissions were jammed from the island. Gant didn't know that before he jumped in."
"That could mean organized opposition, sir."
"Yes, thank you, Captain. I wasn't able to figure that out on my own."
"Yes, sir."
"Let me know as soon as Major Gant has checked in, assuming he can find a way around the interference. We've got about another twelve hours before we have to leak something to the press about Senator Kendal, one way or another. His wife is already making inquiries."
"Understood."
"What kind of assets do we have in the AO other than Gant?"
"Sir, on my way over here I was informed that the C-17 that took them in had to reroute here to Wake. The tanker assigned to them developed a mechanical problem and had to RTB. We're hoping we can get them back here before they go bingo-fuel."
"So we've got nothing backing them up?"
"No, sir. I just choppered in from the Peleliu," the Captain said, referring to a Tarawa-class amphibious assault ship with a compliment of attack and transport helicopters. "She's inbound to the target island and we're trying to get into helo range as fast as possible. I'll be heading back before they are out of transport range of Wake."
"This is taking too long." The general spoke more to himself than to the captain.
"Yes, sir. The island is rather isolated."
"By design, Captain," Friez remarked. "Seems like that came around and bit them on the ass."
"General, once the C-17 gets here we can refuel and get airborne fast. I could take a detachment from Wake here and elements of the Peleliu's security detail to the island. There is a landing strip that might be big enough."
"No, Captain. We stick to the book on this. Wait for the recon team's report so we know what we're up against. Besides, nobody on Wake or the Peleliu is even remotely trained for an Edelweiss scenario."
Campion knew the general referred to the type of unconventional situations and enemies for which Archangel trained. One part of that training was to have the proper tactics, equipment, and psychology to deal with all manner of nightmares. Just as important, that training included the discipline to keep such nightmares a secret. That was their charter.
"General, it is possible that Major Gant won't be able to penetrate whatever is jamming transmissions from the island."
"Your point, Captain?"
Campion did not need to make the point; it was plain enough. Friez did not need to respond, either. As usual, the Archangel recon team was on its own.
Richard Campion finished, "I'll relay Major Gant's report as soon as we receive it."
"You do that, Captain."
7
"It's thinning out," Stacy told Gant as she checked the ECAM again and then wiped a patch of sweat from her brow.
The two moved parallel to one of the dozens of paths crisscrossing the island. This one led from the outer bungalows to the inner circle of the village. A few small, blue path lights glowed in the darkness, as did a couple of pinpricks of light coming from ahead.
They had yet to encounter any functioning hostiles since leaving the field by the bungalow. However, they had come across several immobilized ones.
"The question is," he told her, quietly, as they neared a clearing, "will whatever it is hold after it has dissipated from the air?"
"I can't answer that."
"I did not expect you to," he said. He stopped and turned to her. "Relax, Annabelle, you are doing fine."
She fumbled for a reply before settling on, "I really don't like being called Annabelle."
He pointed forward. "I count three buildings ahead. The one with the two Jeeps in front must be the administrative building. The constable's office and the island bank probably account for the buildings to either side."
She followed his gaze and saw it all, including more than twenty bodies strewn on the ground around the cluster of one-story wood and stucco structures. Her mind wandered for a second, wondering if the bodies belonged to creatures or victims of those creatures … or whether the victims had become creatures themselves.
That focused her thoughts.
"They had a clinic of some sort, right?" she asked.
"I thought we would start with the constable's office," he said. "If there were any problems on the island, a report might have been filed."
"Major, we're not talking about the usual sort of criminal activity. I'd bet Sgt. Franco's life on it that whatever happened here was treated like an illness or sickness first. That means the clinic or hospital or whatever it is they have around here would be our best place to start."
Gant smiled, a little.
"I'll be sure to let Biggy know you were willing to wager on his wellbeing. But in the meantime … well, in the meantime I suppose you are right. I believe we will find a small health clinic about one click east of here."
She took his military jargon and translated it into normal-speak, arriving at an answer of one kilometer or slightly more than half a mile to the clinic.
They turned to move off through the overgrowth and palm trees. Dr. Stacy stumbled.
"Sorry, sorry," she said as he caught her arm for the second time that night. "I'm a little, well, tired."
"Do not apologize." Gant took a deep breath and she saw his eyes sag, too. "It's the heat. This is a lot hotter than I expected. It doesn't seem … it does not seem quite right."
"Wait, there's a volcano around here, right? Is it active?"
"You are in the ring of fire," he pointed out, referring to the South Pacific. "Everything is active around here. Don't you have a PhD in geology?"
His tone leaned toward humor. She appreciated it.
"Didn't get that one yet. We could be feeling a buildup in the volcano. Maybe steam venting?"
"I suppose that is a possibility."
She forced her legs to move, saying, "Then let's get going. I really don't want to be around if that thing starts spewing lava. There's really no place to go."
They left the trio of main buildings behind and headed into a lightless stretch, staying near a wide gravel road that, after two hundred yards, split into two. Gant used his night vision to read a set of road signs and led them toward the "Health Center," as indicated by a blue arrow.
They had traveled another three hundred yards or so and had just reached the edge of the clearing by the clinic when Gant touched her shoulder and whispered, "Wait one moment." He crouched and held still, his eyes and ears at full alert, scanning for … something …
Ahead she saw what must be the clinic surrounded by a white stone parking lot. A lamppost near the entrance created a sphere of illumination in the otherwise dark lot. An old van sat idle nearby and the front door to the clinic stood open, allowing a glow from within to seep out.
"Listen," he said holding up a finger.
Stacy heard the distant whizz of what might be a bat and several assorted chirps and groans attributed to the various exotic animals either indigenous to the island or shipped in to add ambiance.
Then something else.
A snort? A grunt?