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Chase had short, sandy hair and a red face. He was slightly overweight with large muscular arms. He was carefully coiling up a set of cables, taking all the care the mother of a newborn would over her infant.

“We got FM rigs for each person to wear for interteam commo,” Harker continued. “Throat mikes, voice activated, earplug. See Chase to get yours rigged.”

Harker moved to another table. “Pressler is our medic. He’s done a medical profile on the area of operations, but we don’t plan on being there long enough for native flora or fauna or diseases to be a problem. We’re more concerned about man-made medical problems like bullets. He’s got a cut-down M-3 aid bag he’ll be carrying. Also, I’d like for you two to be rigged with two IVs on a vest inside your shirt like we all wear. One’s blood expander, the other’s glucose. They can save your ass from going under if you’re in shock.”

Turcotte nodded. He could tell Nabinger and Duncan weren’t following half of what the burly Green Beret was telling them, but Turcotte planned on sticking close by the professor throughout me mission and Duncan had only to be concerned about what happened back here.

For the first time in a long, long time, Turcotte felt at home. Even when he’d been inbriefed into the Nightscape security force working at Area 51, he’d felt like an outsider. But he understood these men and how they operated.

“What’s the threat?” Turcotte asked.

“It don’t look good,” Harker said. “The PLA, People’s Liberation Army, got several units deployed in our area of operation. Looks like there’s some real shooting going on between the PLA and Muslim factions. Also, that Zandra lady said that the people we’re supposed to link up with are locked inside the tomb, so that means things are stirred up a bit in our AO.”

Harker pointed at a spot on the side of the mountain tomb. “This is the only entrance we know of. As you can see, the PLA got a couple of vehicles parked in the courtyard and a machine position set up here, on the side of the mountain right above the door.”

“How do you plan on getting in?” Turcotte asked.

“Two stages,” Harker said. “First, my snipers reach out and touch someone, taking out the machine-gun position. They’ll keep firing until we get noticed. Then the rest of us go in and clear out the guys left alive on the doorstep. Then my engineer, Howes, has got charges prerigged that he says can blow the doors and get us in.”

“What weapons are you carrying?” Turcotte asked.

“Two Haskins .50-caliber sniper rifles with MP5-SD3 as personal weapons. Two Squad Automatic Weapons for firepower, and two M-203’s for some indirect fire. You can ask your lady friend for whatever you want to carry. Whatever we’ve asked for, she’s gotten, including some demo stuff my engineer has only read about.”

“Okay,” Turcotte said. “How are we infiltrating?”

“Ass end of an MC-130 at four hundred feet,” Harker said.

“Four hundred!” Nabinger spoke for the first time. “I thought it was going to be five hundred.”

Harker laughed, a rough sound like pebbles grating together. “Four hundred, five hundred, hell, that’s only talk. For the real deal we’ll be lucky if that crew goes up above three hundred feet to drop us. They’re going to be staying as low as they can to keep their butts from being seen on Chinese radar.”

Seeing Nabinger turn pale, Harker slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, Prof, we came up with something that’ll make your landing nice and soft.” He led them over to another photo of the tomb and the surrounding terrain. He tapped on the photo. “That’s where you’re going to jump.”

His finger rested on a small lake about two kilometers from the tomb, on the same side as the entrance. Turcotte knew what Harker meant about a soft landing, although he also knew there was a downside to parachuting into a body of water at night.

“The MC-130 navigates by reflected radar images,” Turcotte explained to Duncan and Nabinger. “The smooth surface of the lake gives a very large signature that the plane can easily find, so that’s good. Plus we can look out the back and double-check we’re in the right place before we jump.”

“Fucking-A on that,” Harker said.

Turcotte knew what the other man meant — anyone with any time in Special Forces had been on drops from MC-130’s where they landed miles from the intended drop zone.

Turcotte slapped Nabinger on the back. “You don’t have to worry about having to learn how to do a parachute landing fall or breaking your leg.”

“No, just drowning,” Nabinger muttered.

Turcotte thought it best to avoid that topic right now. “What about exfiltration? Had any time to look at that?”

Harker scratched his jaw. “Well, that’s another story. There are several places we can use for PZs.”

“PZs?” Duncan asked.

“Pickup zones for helicopters,” Turcotte explained.

“Like I said,” Harker continued, “there’s plenty of PZ locations. What worries me, though, is that the warning order said we were going to have two MH-60’s take us out. Now, I may not be the brightest guy in the world, but I do know a little about the Black Hawk. I know that it doesn’t have the range, even with external tanks, to make it from here to the target area and back. Not even close. I’m kind of curious how they think they’re going to do this and who’s flying the mission.”

“Maybe they’ll in-flight refuel,” Turcotte said. “Some of the specially modified Task Force 160 Black Hawks have that capability.”

“Yeah, the choppers might have the capability,” Harker acknowledged, “but I doubt very much the Air Force is gonna put one of their tankers over Chinese airspace.”

“I’ll talk to Zandra about it and see if I can get more information,” Lisa Duncan said.

“Well, if the Air Force gets us in the right place,” Harker said, “I’ll get you in the tomb.”

Turcotte, Duncan, and Nabinger looked at the imagery and maps of the mountain that was Qian-Ling. “It’s big,” Turcotte noted. “Any idea how far it extends underground?” he asked Nabinger.

“None. As far as is known, no one’s been in it since it was sealed.” “Great,” Turcotte said.

A woman’s voice cut in. Zandra had walked in while they were talking. “Your gear is waiting and the plane is landing, so I suggest you get moving.”

As they left the room, Nabinger shook his head and spoke in a voice only Turcotte and Duncan could hear. “You know, this is kind of bizarre, don’t you think?”

“What is?” Turcotte asked.

“Well, here we are, using the best technology man has, to get into an ancient tomb in China, to try and find out about the Airlia. Maybe, like Kelly said, we aren’t ready like Aspasia thinks we are if we can’t even agree with the Chinese government to let us take a look without having to sneak in.”

“There’s no doubt mankind is not united enough to join arm-in-arm with some advanced alien race,” Turcotte said. “But that’s not what worries me.”

“What does concern you, then?” Duncan asked.

“What worries me,” Turcotte said, “is whether mankind can get its shit together enough to fight an advanced alien race if we have to.”

* * *

“All of you except Ki stay here,” Che Lu ordered. “He and I will go back the way we came and try the right passageway.”

They had taken the left passage another half mile past the light shaft, only to find it ended abruptly in a smooth stone wall. The disappointment weighed heavy on the students and Che Lu, but she knew better than to give in to the weight. She had turned them around and led them back to the shaft of light.