Rather than reject him, he’d wait. The Hammer had said he was getting an upgrade — Alex would find out soon enough exactly what that meant.
He scrolled to the next group of HAWCs. There were several others he had worked with before: Drake Monroe, Anita Erikson, and the big Aussie, Max Dunsen. Dunsen, or Dundee to the other HAWCs, was big and as tough as boot leather. If Alex could keep him and Casey Franks from killing each other, then they made a formidable team.
He looked over the others, some new blood that Hammerson himself had rated well off the scale — Andy Garcia — and he then added in Steve Knight. He slid all the profiles to the mission folder that would automatically send a call up alert to them no matter where they were in the world.
With barely any sensation of slowing, the elevator eased to a stop several hundred feet below ground. The entire subterranean complex was encased in sealed titanium and lead shielding that made the basement levels impregnable to a nuclear blast and impervious to electromagnetic pulse attack.
The design was like an upside-down wedding cake, with the larger test facilities at the top and moving down to the smaller R&D laboratories, and then onto the lower level containment cells for biological specimen testing and hazardous materials work.
The doors slid open, and a huge figure lunged in at him so fast, Alex only had time to raise arms to stop being pushed off his feet.
“Jesus Christ.” Alex pushed the big bear of a figure off him and back out of the massively thick doors before they closed again.
“I remember when soldiers used to have respect for their senior officers.” Alex grinned and looked the man up and down. “So, the new and improved Samuel Jefferson Reid.” He cocked his head. “They couldn’t do anything about the face, huh?”
Sam threw his head back and laughed. “Hey, I earned every lump, crease and scar on this ugly mug.” He saluted and stood at attention.
“At ease, soldier.” Alex walked around him. Sam was six-five and about two axe handles wide at the shoulders. He had arms that were straining the sleeves of his all-black HAWC uniform, and where once before he had an external exoskeleton MECH suit covering his legs and lower back, now he just looked normal.
“So, where is it?” Alex asked.
Sam held his arms wide and turned in a circle. “All new and improved.”
Alex’s enhanced senses picked it up then, the small whine of hydraulics as Sam turned. He also felt the small tingle in his head he always got when he was close to a source of radiation.
“Surgical implants?” Alex raised his brows.
Sam nodded. “Tungsten chromium blend; it’s lighter than bone, and the tungsten blending gives it a tensile strength of 1,510 megapascals — titanium only has 434.”
“And the chromium would give it flexibility.” Alex tilted his chin up at Sam. “Your legs were the problem, so why am I picking up a residual trace from your upper body?”
Sam grinned. “Why do you think I was able to push you off your feet? First time ever.” He held up an arm, turning it over, and then making a fist. “They inserted the full-body kit while they had me on the table. I’m the first to trial the internally bonded advanced MECH endoskeleton. The next generation of combat suits will be internal. I can armor up if needed, but now the core infrastructure is inside me and powered by a miniature shard of radioactive material — my own nuclear power plant. I have the mobility of a normal soldier, plus the added speed and strength of a horse.”
“Good, because you can never have too many pack horses on a mission.” Alex held out a hand. “Welcome aboard.”
Sam reached forward to take his hand and Alex turned his large mitt over, looking at it. He could just make out the tiny lines running over the back of his fingers, hand, and wrist before disappearing under his uniform.
“Long surgery?”
“Tag-team of fourteen doctors and thirty-six hours. They had to weave the nano-mesh over every bone, integrate them into my muscle fibers to act like nerve endings, and finally link them to each other — over a million micro-stitches. The final bit was making sure I had control of everything. And for that, they needed me conscious.”
“Sounds painful,” Alex observed.
“Pain just lets you know you’re still alive. It was a small price.” Sam began to squeeze Alex’s hand.
Alex grinned. “How could I not know you were going to do that?” He squeezed back.
Both men stared into each other’s eyes, both just smiled as if they were doing little more than taking in the scenery, but both was exerting enough pressure to pulverize stone. Sam’s hand was now more like a flesh-covered vice. But Alex was no ordinary human being either. Where Sam’s hand was a vice, Alex’s was an industrial press.
Pain to Alex was nothing more than a supercharger that he felt, absorbed, and then used. The more Sam squeezed, the harder Alex was able to squeeze back.
Alex watched his friend’s face, seeing the temperature change on his forehead and his cheeks begin to redden. Perspiration broke out on his brow and an almost imperceptible grinding noise came from their hands.
Sam tried to maintain his grin, but Alex could see the pain behind his eyes now. He pressed a little more, prepared to stop soon if he thought he might damage Sam’s hand. He didn’t need to.
“Uncle!” Sam gasped and let go. “Okay, I’ve still got some catching up to do.” He smiled ruefully and shook his probably throbbing hand.
“I’m impressed. If only I had someone like you on a mission I’m putting together.” Alex punched his large friend’s shoulder. “But I guess you’ll be busy opening all the stuck jelly-jar lids up in the mess hall.”
“Oh, I’m mission-ready. Maybe you’d like to go again, double or nothing?” Sam stuck his still very red hand out again.
“You want to prove yourself, big guy? Well then, consider yourself off the wait-list as of two minutes ago.” Sam beamed. “I’m taking a large team — seven HAWCs.”
Sam’s brows went up. “That’s a lot of muscle.”
“Yep, and it’s for a retrieval, from about ten thousand feet up in the Revelation Mountains.” It was Alex’s turn to grin. “Just to make it interesting.”
Sam whistled. “Climb or drop?”
“Depends on weather conditions. Mission profile has been sent down to Grey,” Alex continued. “We need to review the toolkit, and then link up with our NASA people. We’re in the air in…” Alex checked his watch. “…five hours.”
“Got everything I need right here,” Sam said pointed with his chin. “Heads up; our favorite geek.”
A small man bustled down the surgically white corridor, hands jammed in lab coat pockets. He lifted one free to throw them a small wave that turned into a sort of salute when he spotted Alex.
Chief research scientist Walter Grey came to a stop. “Captain Hunter, Lieutenant Reid.” A nervous smile flickered on his lips before fading.
“Grey,” Alex said and thrust out a hand. “Good to see you again.”
The smaller man took it. “Yes, yes, likewise, Captain.”
Alex tried hard not to smile. Grey looked anything but pleased to see them. Simple reason was Alex and the HAWCs scared him. They were like a different species — big, aggressive, and with an intelligence that pushed the boffins hard. They also had a bad habit of destroying his ‘toys’.
He let his hand slip from Alex’s. “I’ve seen the mission profile — extreme cold, significant altitude, and possible toxic air. Also, not very conducive to optimum firearms performance, so best leave the HKs home this time.”