Bellamy was the company commander for C Company, 3rd Battalion, 7th Special Forces Group (Airborne) stationed in Panama. He'd received the alert direct from Special Operations Command forty minutes ago, and in that time had gathered together the two of his teams that weren't out training and gotten them and their gear loaded onto this aircraft. The twenty-six men were now crowded in the rear of the aircraft, trying to sort through the rapidly loaded equipment. Halfway up the cargo bay, a large black curtain blocked the view forward. Bellamy knew that behind that curtain were banks of electronic equipment manned by Air Force personnel. With a slight bump, the brakes were released and the plane rumbled down the runway.
His XO, Captain Manchester, sat next to him and yelled into his ear, "Where are we going?"
"Antarctica!" Bellamy shouted back.
Manchester took that news in stride. "What for?"
"Fuck if I know," Bellamy replied. "All the alert said was to get our butt in gear. I'm supposed to get filled in once we're airborne and SOCOM gets its shit together and calls."
Manchester nodded and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. No sense worrying about what they didn't know. Bellamy had the same attitude. He bunched up a poncho liner behind his head and was asleep less than ten minutes after takeoff.
8th Army Headquarters, Yongsan, South Korea
The U.S. 8th Army Commander, General Patterson, steepled his fingers and contemplated his staff G-2. The G-2 was the officer responsible for intelligence, and it was at his request that the other primary staff members of Patterson's headquarters were gathered here at almost eleven at night in the situation room. The G-2 had just spent twenty minutes going over his recent intelligence data and had finished only a minute ago. The rest of the room was waiting on Patterson's reaction.
"Okay. Let me see if I have this straight. All these indicators that you've just briefed add up to level four activity across the border. Am I correct?"
Contrary to what many nonmilitary people thought, it was impossible to launch a large-scale military campaign without certain preparations. These preparations were the keys that the intelligence agencies of all the armed forces in the world watched for in their potential enemies. Noting some of those activities across the border in North Korea had led the G-2 to become concerned and call this meeting.
"Yes, sir."
"How many times have you seen this?" Patterson asked.
"We saw it during Team Spirit back in March. The North went up to level two then, but that was expected, as they do it every year during that exercise. We haven't seen an unexpected four like this in the past eight months that I've been here. This level four activity could just be part of movements among the various factions that want to take over next.
"However, I must point out that the activity seems to be southern directed." The G-2 gestured at the map on the wall behind him. "The satellite imagery definitely shows the V and II PKA Corps moving to forward assault positions along the border."
"They may be doing this just to get us to deploy our forward elements into their battle positions so they can ID them," the operations officer, G-3, said. "They can pull those units back just as quickly as they move them forward."
"Our sensing equipment is also picking up some tunneling activity in the DMZ," the G-2 pointed out. "We haven't pinpointed it yet, but it's the most extensive we've heard in a long time."
Over the years, three tunnels had been discovered and neutralized coming from the North under the DMZ. It was estimated that there were at least eighteen more tunnels in place that had yet to be found. Each of these tunnels was large enough to pass an estimated 8,000 troops an hour through.
Patterson frowned. Level four was the first stage of intelligence alert to possible invasion from the North. By itself, it required no action on his part other than to inform subordinate commanders. Level three-if it came to that-required the restriction of all personnel to base and a one-hour alert status for every unit. Level two required forward movement to defensive positions and the initiation of movement of reinforcements from U.S. bases outside of the Korean peninsula-the real version of the Team Spirit exercise that was conducted every year. Level one meant war was possible with less than a ten-minute warning.
All that was fine and well, but they were alerts that had been designed before the invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan. Patterson had been trying to coordinate with the Pentagon to update the alert system based on the reality that many of the reinforcements traditionally earmarked for South Korea in time of war were already at war in Iraq. And even a brigade of his own forces from the 2d Infantry Division had deployed just four months ago from South Korea to Iraq.
"How far out are they from reaching level one?" Patterson asked.
The G-2 bit his lower lip. "I'd say minimum of seventy-two hours, sir, if they're committed to it. More likely a week. If we get any of several intelligence nodes passed in the next eight to twelve hours we will be at level three."
Patterson nodded. "All right. Inform me immediately if I have to go to level three alert. I want all major subordinate commanders alerted about the level four. That includes all reinforcing units. I'm going to personally call the commanding general of the 25th in Hawaii and update him. I'll also call the war room in the Pentagon." He turned to his Air Force and naval commanders. "Please notify your respective personnel to go to level four alert."
"Yes, sir."
Antarctica
Tai had watched the steady stream of ice splatter down the chute for the past fifteen minutes. Now Vaughn's feet appeared as he hopped down. "Who's next?" he asked as he shook ice flakes off his parka.
Logan zipped up his jacket. "I'll go."
Brothers stood. "No. I'll go. I need the exercise to warm up. You take the next shift."
As Vaughn took the rope off his own waist and wrapped it around the pilot, he filled in the rest of the group on his progress. "I made about four or five feet in. Most of the metal tubing is still good. It almost looks like the ice either came in from the top or we haven't reached the break in the wall yet. Let's hope the ice didn't crush the metal together."
Brothers cinched the rope around his waist. "All set."
Vaughn pointed. "I hung the shovel on the top rung."
"Okay." With a weary smile, Brothers reached up and pulled himself into the tube.
The temperature in the reactor room had dropped considerably due to the open hatch and the slowly melting pile of ice in the far corner. Tai had gone through the supplies Vaughn had piled in the room and put together a cold meal of crackers and canned fruit cocktail. She handed a can to Vaughn as he sat down on his ruck.
"Thanks." Vaughn smiled and held up a can of fruit. "C-rations. I haven't seen these in a long time."
Tai glanced over at Logan. He looked worn and scared. His sudden desire for action bothered her. They ate in silence, interrupted only by the sprinkle of ice from the hatch as Brothers continued to dig away.
She was surprised when Vaughn slid over until their legs were touching. "This was a cluster-fuck of a mission," he said.
Tai nodded. "Royce is shooting in the dark, hoping to hit something."
"And we're the bullets," Vaughn said.
"And we have little idea what the target is," Tai noted. "I'm starting to think you might be-" She never finished analyzing those feelings as her world went upside down. It was as if a large hand grasped the reactor room and lifted it, tumbling everyone to the floor. The lights went out and a tremendous roar, sounding like thousands of locomotives roaring by, shook her ears. Her last thought as she was thrown across the room was regret that she and Vaughn hadn't talked sooner.