GRIDER

 

Wednesday January 8 - 2138 MST

Seven days until Turbocharger activates

 

 

We were almost finished loading the chopper when the Prime team pulled up. No matter how many times I've had to work with those freaks it's always surprising how big they are when you're right up to next them. Not only is their size unnatural but the ease with which they carry their gear is a surprise to anyone who has first hand knowledge on how cumbersome our loadout would be for this mission.

Primary weapon, side arm, combat load of ammo plus extra, heavy body armor with plates, chem gear, and so much Semtex that the demo guy's load had to be split among everyone. That was in addition to the bulky cold weather clothing. Every pro knows that light weight is more survivable than overburdening your team with "protective" gear. This Basser guy didn't care, he was explicit on this point. Figures that an Air Force guy that spent his whole career in an air conditioned cockpit knew fuck all about fighting a ground battle.

I never thought I'd say it, but I wish Sterling was back in command. We may have disagreed on how to deal with Adam and "enhanced assets" in general, but at least that guy knew enough to let me employ my own ground tactics and not force his own uninformed opinion down my throat.

The twin turbines of our MH-53 Pave Low were rumbling as everyone got situated inside its massive cargo area. I could see why the Air Force loved this copter so much. It was like a flying school bus with an interior capacity to match. There was room for over thirty troops and the refrigerator sized cargo container that was chained down to the deck. Nearly all the jump seats were taken up by the black clad Praetorian contractors that Basser had hired to be the CTTC's security. It looks like guarding warehouses wasn't all they did.

The Praetorians aboard the Pave Low were different than the ones I'd seen around base. The guards were your typical vets working on post-military careers. Praetorian had high standards even for regular security work, there wasn't a single pot belly or lax attitude among them. But the guys on the chopper with me were a different breed. They had the gait, the swagger, and the look. There was no missing the fact that they were special ops in a former life. They'd been doing these Delta site runs quite frequently and were in almost jovial mood about this mission. Granted it was just an exercise, but I have to admit I was a little anxious. I was a last minute replacement for a Praetorian that had gotten injured in a training accident. No one had bothered to brief me on what exactly the Delta site was or what we were doing there. I was expected to learn as I go.

The gunner kneeling beside the rear, ramp-mounted M-2HB pointed over the barrel of his weapon. "Looks like we got a straggler."

When I saw who it was I couldn't help but grin. This would be fun.

Adam was jogging up the concrete parking apron towards me. He was all decked out for combat with chest rig, helmet, and green flight suit. No cold weather gear though. Of course he wouldn't have known to pack it, he wasn't on this mission. Yet somehow the freak had worked it out and found his way to the flightline.

As he placed one of his jumbo sized boots on the Pave Low's rear ramp I thumped him on the chest with two fingers stopping him cold. He looked at me in stunned surprise.

"Captain Grider?" I suppose he wouldn't have recognized me at first with tac goggles and a kevlar helmet covering up most of my head. "What's going on?"

"What's going on is a mission that you're not a part of. Orders."

He just stared at me slack jawed for several moments. I had to fight really hard to keep the grin off my face.

The gunner patted my shoulder to get my attention. "Cap'n wants to know if he is going or staying."

"Tell him to liftoff, this guy's staying behind."

The gunner nodded and spoke into his headset. Within a couple seconds the MH-53's turbines revved up and I felt the shift in the helicopter as it went airborne. Adam just gaped at me with his mouth open like some lost puppy as we gained altitude and left him behind.

It felt really good shutting him down like that. Frankly, I'm not sure why he had been welcomed back with open arms. It was like everyone at the CTTC had forgotten everything we'd seen over the past two years. Nothing touched by exos was ever left uncorrupted. And not only had Adam been touched by the Other Side but he had been with them for seven months. Seven months! Then everyone lost their minds and just accepted his insane time traveling story. Had I been on the recovery operation I would have shot him as soon as he came running out of that truckstop with a gun in his hand. That would have saved us the trouble of doing it later. Oh well…missed opportunities and all that.

I took an open jump seat away from the three new freaks. While I liked the one named Hooper I wasn't too sure about the other two. Hooper at least had the good sense to have joined the army.

Just like with the Primes, there were regular humans that I also distrusted. One of those had just walked up to me and loomed over me like an executioner. His name was Kuzmin, the guy in charge of this chalk of Praetorians. I didn't know him personally but he practically screamed Spetsnaz. They took swagger to a whole new level.

He bellowed at me with his ridiculous Russian accent. "You new guy?"

I nodded. It wasn't like he didn't know I was the new guy. Unlike his cronies I wasn't in black fatigues and was the veritable sore thumb.

"Yeah, you gonna brief me on this mission?"

He actually belly laughed at me. "This is training mission. Watch and learn."

I'm not sure why I expected more from him. From what I knew of him he was all laughter and bluster most of the time, but a straight up professional when in the thick of it. Still, I needed more than his condensed answer.

"Anything special I need to know about?"

"We have specialists for everything technical. Just enjoy ride. Wait, I may have something for you". Kuzmin stroked his thick beard for a moment in thought. Like most operators I knew he kept the beard short enough to accommodate a gas mask. Once he came to his conclusion he waved one of his thickly muscled bear arms at the three Primes. "You know these people. Stay with them and be babysitter. Your callsign is Bulldozer. They are specialists for final objective of exercise. Keep them safe."

And that was my in-depth tactical briefing.

I spent the rest of the hour and a half of the trip going over what I knew about the Delta site. The location was kept secret but I could tell from looking out the rear ramp that we had been heading east and up into the Rockies. That would explain the need for cold climate gear. I also knew that a big portion of Project Slipstream's budget was spent on the Delta site. Not only in constructing it but doing regular maintenance. Helicopters like the Pave Low I was in now were regularly flying out loaded up with Warren Gibbs's people and Sterling's civil engineers. The effort to keep the Delta site up and running was a lot like what they did for Danger Drive. The live rounds in everyone's mags told me that this wasn't some play exercise though. We were training for something real. The very specific location where the Delta site was constructed also lent credence to that theory. You didn't go to the effort of building a shoot house up above the snow line unless you had to. Dugway had plenty of space for us to build one closer.

This site represented someplace very specific and very cold. Scandinavia, Russia, the Arctic, I wasn't sure. But with the frantic rate of training and building they had been keeping it meant that they were planning on hitting the target real soon. It would be real nice to know what that was though.

A pair of AH-64 Apache gunships had joined us about halfway up the mountainside. Now I knew they were getting serious. Whatever we were hitting was going to be hit hard.

The white line of permafrost passed below and the air got very cold. The heavy parka and overpants seemed like too much back at Dugway, but now I was glad for them. We were deep in the heart of the Rockies and close to our target. I could feel it in the air, people were getting excited in anticipation of the action. Even when people know it's fake, live fire exercises still get peoples' blood flowing. I got up from my jump seat and peeked out through the starboard side gunner's port with my NVGs.

Someone had taken a slice out of the mountain's side to create a wide flat expanse. There was a winding road leading up to this spot but I could immediately see why we weren't driving up to it. At least half a dozen fortified bunkers lined the road and were set up to provide eachother with supporting enfilade fire. Going in on the ground would be an exercise in suicidal futility.

My night vision display exploded in brilliant bright green as one then another of the bunkers exploded. The escorting Apaches had gone ahead and began pouring Hydra 70 rockets into the side of the mountain. The gunships slinked sideways as they fired to make themselves harder to hit. This didn't stop their fire as they walked 30MM cannon and rocket fire up through each bunker until they were all smoking ruins.

They then turned their attention on the scattered buildings of the man made plateau. The light aluminum and wood structures disintegrated under the relentless fire of the Apaches. I even saw a truck blown apart into fragments that looked like scraps of balsa wood. Then it was our turn.

The pilot rotated the Pave Low around so the ramp was facing the mountain as he brought it down on the snow. A pair of double taps rang out as Kuzmin's men fired before even leaving the confines of the MH-53's interior. The rounds sailed past the seated ramp gunner who didn't seem to be bothered by being in the line of fire. This clearly wasn't the first time this had happened to him. In the distance I saw two figures toppled backwards into the powder. I hoped they were just dummies, though they were dressed in black and white snow camo and holding rifles.

"Go-go-go!" Kuzmin bellowed as everyone dismounted in a fast but controlled fashion out the rear of the chopper.

The Praetorians fanned out across the field finding cover where they could and providing overwatch for the next group, mine. Not knowing where I needed to be I followed the Triplets through the smoky ruins of the camp. The thick stench of cordite from fresh explosions still permeated the air even with the parka's face mask up over my nose. With their hooded white parkas and padded overalls on the Triplets looked identical. Three bloated white ninjas with carbines. The only distinguishing trait was they were all a lot bigger than the Praetorians, though it could have just been their clothing being extra puffy.

At first I thought they were running straight into the flat face of the carved out mountainside but then I saw that underneath a layer of snow was something man made. As we got closer I could make out hinges, bolts, and reinforcing bands of steel. This was a massive door, a lot like the one that served as the entrance to the CTTC. Beside the door were the two "corpses" that turned out to be mannequins, though I didn't spot any insignia that might give me a clue of the who real targets would be.

One of the sumo-ninjas pounded on the steel frame of the gargantuan door then turned to me. I recognized the voice of Hooper. "Last time this was open."

This was starting to feel familiar to me. We did training like this a lot in the past. The shoot house was always the same building, but the trainers would rearrange things each time we went through to keep us on our toes. Doors would be closed and locked, targets moved, furniture rearranged. The best training centers even had movable walls and doors that could be relocated between scenarios to keep the shooters really guessing. It was a useful instruction tool because a real enemy wasn't obligated to set up his base to conform to your training environment. It looked like the scenario planners were adjusting the variables on the team here.

Kuzmin's voice sputtered in my headset. "Status?"

"Looks like the door's locked."

"Very good. I like explosions. Set up breaching charges and take cover."

Things were about to get really loud.