Alex whistled.
Hammerson nodded. “And the second thing is, we’ve intercepted a Russian communication — seems they’re going to make a play for it as well. They’ll be there before us, and we expect they’ll send some heavy hitters. They’ll want to get in quick, steamroll anyone that gets in their way, and then vanish.” He looked into Alex’s eyes. “And you know what that means?”
Alex nodded. “I do, they’ll clean the site.” He snorted softly. “So now it’s a race.”
“It’s always a race, son.” Hammerson gave him a crooked smile.
“I choose my team?” Alex raised his chin.
“The HAWC team, sure. But be advised this is a NASA mission, we’re just riding shotgun.” He held up a hand as he saw the protest building. “I don’t like it either, but this one is not in my control.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed. “NASA controlled until I determine a hotzone. Then I own it.”
Hammerson smiled. “Works for me.” He slid a computer tablet toward Alex. “Here’s your available mission stock; pull a team together. The NASA techs you’re going to be chaperoning are already inbound. Say your goodbyes, pick your team, and get down to the armory.” He sat back. “Six hours, you’re airborne.”
Alex grimaced. “Jesus, Jack, Aimee will…”
Hammerson held up a hand. “I’ve taken the liberty of flying them in.” He checked his watch. “And by now they should be both out on the far training grounds, having a picnic.”
“Pretty confident, huh?’ Alex shook his head, but grinned.
Hammerson shrugged. “Been meaning to catch up with them. And besides, later I can organise for Josh to see the dog. Give them both a hug for me.” His face became serious. “Then be ready to brief your team, prior to dustoff.”
Alex grabbed the tablet, stood, saluted and went to turn toward the door when he paused. “Where’s the big guy up to?”
“Sam?” Hammerson smiled. “Oh, he’s got all the new kit built in.”
“Built in?” Alex raised his eyebrows.
“Oh yeah.” Hammerson returned the smile. “Been out of surgery for weeks. He’s down in the armory now. About time we put the big guy back to work.” Hammerson saluted and Alex pushed out through the door.
Jack Hammerson lifted his coffee and toasted the screen. “Here’s to you, Mother Russia. You didn’t really think it was going to be that easy, did you?” He picked up the phone. “Put me through to General Chilton.”
CHAPTER 11
Alex couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face as he headed to the secure elevator that would take him down to the secret armory of USSTRATCOM’s research and development weapons division. It was situated deep below the base, and accessible only to a handful of people.
R&D weapons division, or as the HAWCs referred to it the ‘toy store’, gave the HAWCs special access to new weaponry. They acted as guinea pigs for the new weapon tech, and in return they got it before anyone else. Ninety-nine out of a hundred times it worked, and rarely did anyone get vaporized anymore.
Alex stood before the featureless silver doors, and waited for them to scan his facial features and sniff his DNA.
As he waited he used the technical note pad to call up the bios of the HAWCs he had available. He’d take a large team, eight players, including himself. He knew each HAWC would be the equivalent of half a dozen standard Spec Forces operatives from anywhere in the world.
He smiled grimly. With that many HAWCs at his back, he could take down a city if he needed to.
“Captain Hunter.”
Alex looked up to see a solid looking young soldier, whose face he recognized. He quickly looked down at the pad, and saw the same features staring back from the new HAWC inductees list.
“2nd Lieutenant Steven Knight.” Alex said and the soldier came to a rod straight attention.
“Yes sir.” He had shortcropped blond hair, slight sun damage to his nose and cheeks, telling of either days on the beach or the farm — the Midwestern accent told him of the latter.
“I just want to say, it’s an honor to meet you, sir, I’ve been wanting to…”
“Says here, you’re ex-Ranger stock.” Alex glanced again at his bio.
“Sir, yes sir.” He stared straight ahead. “Best shot in my squad.”
Alex nodded. “Peak fitness, high pain threshold, excel at hand-to-hand combat, weapons tech expertise…” Alex nodded as he read. “…and climbing experience.”
The man’s lips curled up slightly at the corners. “Free climb down at Devil’s Lake in Wisconsin, every chance I can, sir.”
“Devil’s Lake is for weekend hikers.” Alex stared hard at the young soldier, and his smile dropped. “And you’ve no HAWC mission experience.”
Knight’s jaw firmed. “I’m ready, waiting and mission fit, Captain Hunter. Just say the word, sir.”
Alex leaned in real close, and gave the man the stare. Knight continued to look straight ahead, not blinking, not moving a muscle. Alex knew his glare could reduce grown men to puddles of nerves; Knight didn’t budge.
“2nd Lieutenant Knight, then consider you’ve just had the word. Authorization will be sent, you will communicate to no one and you will be ready and waiting down at rallying center five for kit-out and mission briefing in two hours.”
Knight’s lips compressed as he tried to hold in the grin. He saluted and Alex did the same. He looked about to say something else.
“Go!” Alex yelled and then chuckled as the man spun and raced back down the corridor.
He turned back to the elevator and the scanners checked him again. Satisfied, the two-feet thick doors slid back slowly. Both the doors and shaft were constructed of almost solid titanium, and if through some miracle they were breached, then the shaft itself would be immediately sealed with a plug of solid steel, ten feet thick.
Stepping inside, Alex felt the momentary claustrophobia of being shut in an iron box, but he set the feeling aside as he reopened the technical note pad. Alex brought up the first bio — Casey Franks. The brutal-looking woman stared hard back at the camera lens. She was tougher than many of the bigger men she worked with, and in a firestorm, she wasn’t afraid to be the first through a door. He’d just finished a job with her, and he couldn’t ask for a better agent to have at his back.
Alex pushed her profile into the mission folder and slid to the next. He couldn’t help grinning. Why take a few armored vehicles when he could take a bulldozer? Sam Reid’s image filled the frame, and not just because it was a close-up; the man was physically huge. Sam was a few years older than Alex was, and probably the closest thing Alex had to a friend in the HAWCs. They’d been on many missions together, and it was on one of them, in the jungles of South America, that Sam had his spine crushed, rendering him a paraplegic.
But Sam wasn’t finished with the HAWCs, and they weren’t finished with him either. Sam had enthusiastically volunteered to try out the new MECH technology. The Military Exoskeleton Combat Harness was the next generation heavy combat armor. On Sam, the synaptic electronics were a molded framework that was built on, and into, his body — light, flexible and a hundred times tougher than steel. Sam was as good as new, except now, the big man could run faster than a horse and kick a hole in a steel door.
Sam also possessed an intellect that made him one of the best military tacticians they had. He was an unbelievable asset to have on a team. But much as Alex would have put him on the mission list immediately, he had been concerned that the weight of the MECH suit would render him far too goddamn heavy and cumbersome for the high-altitude mission.