SEAL Team 13 (SEAL Team 13 series) (11 page)

The other two nodded their understanding. Alaska was often used as a hostile environment test area for military equipment, specifically because the temperatures could become about as extreme as anywhere else on the planet, while the weather and terrain outdid almost anywhere else a military unit could possibly be called to serve. However, as the sergeant had said, it wasn’t all that cold at the moment, and the NODs were well within their rated operating environment.

“All right.” Kell jerked his thumb out in the direction of the anomaly. “Go check it out, you two. Stay in contact. Just make sure that there’s nothing out there, and then get your asses back to the plane.”

“You got it, Sarge.”

The two readied their kits, shouldered their M4s, and headed out from the C-130 as Sergeant Kell went back up the ramp to assign a couple more men to the guard detail.

Marcus Jones surveyed the terminal building, taking in the signs of struggle and violence that filled the place. Trash bins were overturned, their contents scattered across the floor, and there was blood on the seats and floor and smears on the walls.

No bodies, though. What the hell happened?

“Building secured, sir,” Trooper Kanady said, walking over to join him. “We found broken glass in the offices, a computer tossed across the room, but there’s not a soul to be found.”

Jones nodded, looking down at the tablet computer he was holding. He checked a map of the town, scowling as he realized that it didn’t list wherever the hell the town’s hospital or clinic was. There was a dental clinic to the northwest, and three schools to the northeast, plus a Search and Rescue headquarters just east of them. He sighed, flipped open his satellite phone, and dialed his secretary.

“Miriam? Yeah, no, I’m here. Look, could you find out where the hospital is up here? It’s not showing up on my map. Yeah, send it to my account. Thanks.”

He flipped down the antenna on the phone and nodded to Kanady. “Okay, gather together everyone who’s not on watch. We’re going to have to split into three groups and move out.”

“Yes, sir.”

His tablet chirped, and he glanced down to check the update. Jones rolled his eyes as he noted where the hospital was.

Sure, list the electricity co-op, but don’t bother listing the hospital. Who puts these things together?

He knew that he’d have to send men to the schools, all three or four of the larger ones at least. The Search and Rescue office was another given, as was the sheriff’s office, but he would take the team to the hospital personally. If he was going to find people anywhere, that was the place he’d put his money on.

And he wanted to find some people, pronto. The sheer lack of any visible civilians was, quite frankly, creeping him out.

Captain Jones sighed, shutting his tablet down and securing it under his coat as he walked over to where his men were gathered.

Corporals Merrin and Jenner paced each other as they walked north, off the airfield and into the tundra that separated them from Barrow. They were angling more to the east than the state troopers had gone, heading for the aircraft park that seemed to be the focal point of the anomaly showing up on their NODs.

The slush and ice shed off their boots as they walked, but both men could feel the cold trying to seep in. They wanted nothing more than to get the mission done and head back to ALCOM, where they could at least be assured of a warm bed waiting for them after their work was done.

“You seeing anything?” Merrin asked, his Colt M4 poised at his shoulder as he looked through his NODs over the sights of the weapon.

“Just the same weird shit, man.” Jenner scowled under his own night-vision device. “You see that?”

“What?”

“Over by that parked plane.” Jenner pointed.

Merrin looked for a moment, then shook his head. “Don’t see anything. What was it?”

“I don’t know. Shadows. Jesus, I’m jumping at shadows.” Jenner spat, disgusted with himself.

“This mission is creepy—you said it earlier, man. Don’t sweat it.”

The two men made their way out of the field and onto the tarmac of the airplane park, heading toward a parked bush plane sitting next to a large hangar building. There weren’t many aircraft sitting around, but the few that were there certainly crossed the gamut of what one might expect to see. They spotted a Learjet some distance away, its nose poking out of an open hangar, something that some company CEO was going to tear his flight crew a new asshole over. Beyond that there were a couple Piper Cubs and older-model bush planes. There were more of them than someone from the southern states would expect, particularly considering the size of the airstrip.

This was Alaska, however, and flying was sometimes the only possible method of travel.

“Getting the glitch again, over by the Lear hangar,” Merrin said, sounding annoyed.

Jenner didn’t blame him—whatever the hell was causing this was getting on his last nerve too. He sighed. “All right, let’s check it out. If the place is clean we’ll file a report on the damn things and let the brass hash it out with the supplier.”

“Right.”

They turned and walked toward the plane hangar, both of them feeling beyond fed up with the situation. Jenner flipped the NODs up on his head, pulled a crookneck flashlight from his web gear, and thumbed it on.

He let his M4 hang from its straps and pulled the Beretta M9 from its holster instead as he ducked under the nose of the multimillion-dollar plane. Resting his gun hand on the wrist holding the flashlight, he began to sweep the hangar. The shadows were still playing with his head as he swept the area, making him think he saw movement, but this time he didn’t comment.

“Not seeing anything from here,” he called out to Merrin. “I’m going in.”

Merrin nodded behind him, his own carbine tucked into his shoulder. “I have you covered.”

“Right.”

Not that either of them expected this to come down to any actual shooting—there was something weird going on, sure, but they weren’t walking around Baghdad. Barrow, Alaska, was hardly going to be the site of a major firefight involving the US military anytime soon.

That said, both of them were creeped out, and nothing said comfort like a full-automatic weapon.

“Nothing in here,” Jenner said after sweeping the whole area. He shook his head as he turned and started back out. “I’m beginning to think that we’re dealing with some kind of weird environmental interference. Maybe there are some heating pipes under the runway here to prevent icing? Even if they’re turned off now, it could be messing with our gear a little. What do you think, man?”

When no immediate response was forthcoming, Jenner scowled and ducked under the Lear’s wing again.

“Yo!” he called. “Not funny, man! You okay?”

He walked out of the hangar and stopped, his flashlight beam resting on the Colt M4 that was lying on the ground. He holstered his M9 pistol and swung his own M4 into his arms, spinning around as he looked for any sign of his comrade.

“Merrin, you asshole, if you’re fucking with me, I swear to God I’m going to break your legs!” Jenner snarled, his eyes darting about, looking for something…anything at all.

The only response was silence and the distant howl of the wind.

Jenner backed away from the hangar, putting some asphalt between himself and any cover that could be used to sneak up on him before he pulled the radio from his belt.

“Command, Jenner.”

“Roger, Jenner. Go for command.”

“I’m out by the hangar with the interference, northeast of the Herky Bird,” he said, referring to the C-130 they’d flown in on. “I lost Merrin.”

“Say again, Jenner. Did you say you
lost
Corporal Merrin?”

“Damn it, yes, I lost him!” he growled into the radio, trying not to panic as he spoke. “I was clearing the hangar while he covered me from the outside, and when I got back he was gone, but his M4 was laying on the tarmac! Get me a squad up here, damn it!”

“All right, I’m sending a squad your way. If Merrin is screwing around, he’ll be cleaning latrines on a glacier when this is over.”

“Assuming that I don’t shoot him first myself,” Jenner growled, tucking his radio away. He wasn’t entirely joking—Merrin had best be in dire straights, because if this was some pathetic prank he was going to wake up in a snow bank some morning, minus his skivvies.

“Merrin!” Jenner hissed, walking slowly around the Learjet, which was the only thing for a few hundred feet big enough to hide behind.

Or in.

He leveled his weapon at the open door of the jet, scowling suspiciously at it. The stairs were extended, of course, so he started climbing the short distance to the plane’s cabin. At the top he once again let his rifle rest on the straps, pushing it around to his back as he drew the Berretta and ducked into the enclosed space.

“US Army!” he called, scanning the interior with his eyes and pistol. “Show yourselves. Merrin, if you’re in here, come out before you really start to piss me off.”

Nothing.

He cleared the main cabin, scowling more with every passing moment, then checked the cockpit. It was empty, and nothing was out of order—the whole thing looked like it had come straight out of the factory.

“This whole place is giving me the creeps,” he muttered, holstering his pistol again as he stepped out onto the stairs. He glanced back over his shoulder, shaking his head as he checked the cabin one last time.

“That’s because we own this place now.”

His heart damn near exploded in his chest as he spun around, coming face to face with something out of a zombie movie. The withered and rotting face couldn’t belong to anything living, but it smiled at him as he screamed and went for his rifle on reflex.

Whatever it was, it didn’t make a move to stop him, but before he could bring his weapon up a leathery hand reached
into
his mouth and grabbed him by his face, yanking him forward.

The last things Corporal Jenner heard or felt were the obnoxiously loud popping sounds from his neck as he was pulled up off the stairs of the Learjet and dragged into the rafters of the hangar.


For a long stretch of time the only sound left around the hangar was the low moan of the arctic wind, signaling a coming change in the weather. Then footsteps scuffed against the tarmac as five camouflaged, uniformed men came running up and spread out.

“Look around. They can’t be far,” ordered the lead man, Sergeant Dale.

The men slowed, moving into the hangar with their weapons shouldered and ready to fire. One dropped to his knee by the abandoned M4 on the tarmac, lifting it up to check the action and sniff the weapon.

“Unfired.”

“Great,” Dale said. “All right, let’s clear this building, then move on.”

“Yes, sir.”

The team moved inside, ducking under the wings of the Lear as they went, sweeping the hangar with their M4s.

“Corporal Jenner!” Dale growled. “Where the hell are you?! Jenner!”

When no response came, the men paused briefly, but their leader signaled them onward. They penetrated the hangar and slowly swept through the large building. It only took minutes to determine that their missing man—
men
, it looked like now—was still missing. They regrouped inside, taking a moment to discuss their options out of the wind.