Operation Orion - Kevin Dockery [52]
If ambush was, in fact, their intention. The officer was not yet willing to take that for granted and wasn’t willing to make an unprovoked attack on what, for all he knew, might turn out to be a bunch of miners taking their lunch break in the middle of a blizzard. He needed more data, and he had an idea how to get it.
“Sandy, I want you to take your squad straight up the hill from here, to the left. Get to an elevation where you’re higher than those bogeys and start moving along the slope until you’re above their position. How long do you think that’ll take?”
The lieutenant (j.g.) studied the terrain for a moment. “Give me forty minutes, sir. And then what?”
“And then,” Jackson said, hoping the idea wasn’t as stupid as it sounded, “the rest of us will start walking down the valley of death. We’ll find out soon enough what their intentions are.”
Sanders was breathing hard, the sound of his respiration rasping harshly through his earpiece. He was on point for the last leg of the climb, and his men had made good time in moving up a very steep slope of snow-covered rock. They had followed a shallow gully, which meant that the snow was extra deep, but had remained out of view of the unknown aliens arrayed along the ridge’s heights. He checked his watch and saw that twenty-seven minutes had elapsed since he had taken his squad off at right angles from the Team’s line of march. It was thirteen minutes before Jackson and the first squad moved down the valley.
Finally he climbed to the lip of the gully and saw that they indeed had climbed some fifty meters higher on the slope than their targets, which looked like vaguely outlined red splotches on the snow. Already he could see twelve or more of them, and they didn’t seem to be moving.
Waving his men forward, he led the SEALS of the second squad onto the barren slope above the mysterious strangers. It was steep, but that grade actually worked to their advantage, since the snow was only a few inches deep. The rock beneath it was hard and gritty, so their footing remained fairly solid as they began to move out along the side hill.
Through the IR screen he got a better view of the targets, eventually counting two dozen of them in his initial inspection. They were humanlike shapes, with heads, torsos, and limbs, and they appeared to be lying prone in the snow. Their attention seemed to be directed downward, suggesting that they did indeed intend an ambush. He was further startled by the size of each imprint: The heat image seemed to be somewhat larger than that of a man. He wondered if they might be wearing oversized suits as protection against the extreme environment, but they were still too far away to get an actual look at them.
His men moved deliberately, taking care not to knock free any snow or rocks that might tumble down to alert the aliens to their presence. Advancing in a single file, with some ten meters between them, the squad had moved into position above the right flank of the ambushers when another glance at his watch confirmed for Sanders that the LT was going to start moving out. Another glance at the images showed that none of them seemed to have noticed anything amiss to the rear of their position; they all lay still, attention directed toward the valley floor. The SEALS started to inch downward in line abreast, carefully approaching the unknown creatures.
“Lieutenant Sanders!” It was the other scout, Willie Sanchez, his voice hissing with astonishment. “I got a look at one of these things—it’s like a goddamn polar bear, sir. But it’s packing—looks like a damn big rifle of some kind.”
Polar bear? Sanders didn’t know what to make of that, but he didn’t like the fact that it had a gun.