Ice Station - Matthew Reilly [74]
The thought of Rebound as the killer did, however, trigger one other unusual thought in Schofield’s mind. It was a memory, a painful memory that Schofield had tried to bury.
Andrew Trent.
Lieutenant First Class Andrew X. Trent, USMC.
Peru. March, 1997.
Schofield had gone through Officer Candidate School with Andy Trent. They were good friends and after OCS they had risen to the rank of first lieutenant together. A brilliant strategic thinker, Trent was given command of a prized Atlantic-based Marine Reconnaissance unit. Schofield – not quite the tactical genius that Trent was – was awarded a Pacific-based one.
In March of 1997, barely a month after he had taken command of his Recon unit, Schofield and his team were ordered to attend a battle scene in the mountains of Peru. Apparently, something of tremendous importance had been discovered in an ancient Incan temple high in the Andes and the Peruvian President had called upon the United States for aid. Bands of murderous treasure hunters are rife in the mountains of Peru; they have been known to kill whole teams of university researchers in order to steal the priceless artefacts that the researchers find.
When Schofield’s unit arrived at the mountain-top site, they were met by a squad of American troops, a single platoon of US Army Rangers. The Rangers had formed a two-mile perimeter around a particular, rainforest-covered mountain. On top of the mountain stood the crumbling ruins of a pyramid-shaped Incan temple, half-buried in the mountainside.
A Marine Recon unit was already inside the temple, the captain of the Rangers informed Schofield.
Andy Trent’s unit.
Apparently, it had been the first unit to arrive on the scene. Trent and his team had been doing some exercises in the jungles of Brazil when the alarm had been raised, so they had been the first to arrive.
The Army Ranger captain didn’t know anything else about what was going on inside the ruined temple. All he knew was that all other units arriving at the scene had been ordered to secure a two-mile perimeter around the temple and not to enter it for any reason.
Schofield’s unit went about doing what they had been ordered to do and before long they had reinforced the two-mile perimeter around the temple.
It was then that a new unit arrived on the scene.
This unit, however, was allowed to pass through the perimeter. It was a SEAL team, someone said, a bomb squad of some kind that was going in to defuse some mines that had been laid by whoever was in there with Trent’s Marines. Apparently, there had been heavy fighting inside. Trent and his team had prevailed, Schofield was pleased to hear.
The SEAL team went inside. Time passed slowly.
And then suddenly, Schofield’s earpiece had exploded to life. A garbled voice cut through waves of static.
It said, ‘This is Lieutenant Andrew Trent, Commander of United States Marine Force Reconnaissance Unit Four. I repeat, this is Andrew Trent of US Marine Force Reconnaissance Unit Four. If there are any Marines out there, please respond.’
Schofield responded.
Trent didn’t seem to hear him. He could transmit, but he obviously couldn’t receive.
Trent said, ‘If there are any Marines outside this temple, raid it now! I repeat, raid it now! They planted men in my unit! They planted men inside my goddam unit! Marines, those SEALs who came in here before, they said that they were here to help me. They said they were a special unit, sent by Washington to assist me in securing this site. Then they pulled their guns and shot one of my corporals right in the fucking head! And now they’re trying to kill me! Fuck! Some of my own men are helping them, for God’s sake! They planted fucking men in my unit! They planted men in my own goddam unit! I’m being attacked by my own –’
The signal cut off abruptly.
Schofield had quickly looked about himself. No one else, it seemed, had heard the short, sharp message. Trent must have transmitted it over the ‘Officer-Only’ frequency, which meant that only Schofield had heard it.
Schofield