As Good as Dead by O. J. Anderson	Biography and Bibliography Table of Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6.1 Chapter 6.2 Chapter 7.1 Chapter 7.2 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11
Chapter 7 Colorado 0830 hours part 1 of 2

It’s colder than the Abominable Snowman’s butt cheeks.

And, according to the weather readout displayed on the van’s monitor, a storm front is set to move in from the south early this afternoon, which is good news to Jack and his crew. A storm will cut the visibility of the DUMB security and act as sound-deadening material masking their approach.

Jack has already called in a heavy drop request: six squad snow machines. The overcast will provide concealment for the C-130 making the drop.

The vans are parked two miles up an old logging road off the main highway. In a small clearing. Camouflaged, with security countermeasures emplaced and activated. Jack warns both David and Joshua to stay inside until his crew gets back, “Unless you want to go home in a sandwich bag,” he tells them.

“I think we’ll just stay put,” David says.

Joshua: “I’m fine with that.”

They have a lot more to discuss anyway, as Jack and his crew gear up. A still unresolved question lingers: the existence of extraterrestrials. David is confident in his demons-masquerading-as-aliens research findings, but that doesn’t disprove the existence of other life forms. Joshua agrees, and mentions the fact that UFOs have been captured on video disarming nuclear weapons.

“Well,” David says, “I wouldn’t put too much stock in that. It may appear benevolent on its surface, but I think its more likely that the dark forces are merely protecting their assets. Us. They can’t let us exterminate each other... not yet anyway. If we die, they die. They need us.”

“Okay. But what about the abductions? The countless reports of people getting probed, their reproductive organs studied, or removed even? Why would the dark forces be doing these things if they aren’t trying to reprogram the gene code?”

“They probably still are. These abductions I think are independent of their work for the Cabal. A side project, if you will. I don’t believe those biosuits are the final form of manifestation for the dark forces. The suits are convenient for now, especially for anti-gravity travel, but they can’t be the end. I’m sure they have something far more advanced in the works.”

Joshua waits a moment. Then: “Like...?”

“The final synthesis. A humanoid form that doesn’t age and can’t be killed. A permanent body, capable of space travel or living underwater. A superhuman.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“I think the dark forces have a zygote farm somewhere. Could be here on Earth, could be elsewhere. Doesn’t matter. But they must also have — or are close to having — a means by which they can transfer their energy from the biosuit to the newer superhuman body. Or just upload other dark forces into the new bodies.”

“A computer,” Joshua says.

David nods. “We think it’s on the Moon. Powered by transmuted plutonium 239 most likely, and mined from undersea uranium stores.” He shrugs and almost laughs. “Yet more advantages of the biosuits. Can’t take a punch, but they can go anywhere.”

* * *

Jack and his crew are geared up and ready to move out to the drop zone, eight kilometers southwest of their current position. They’ll move in on snowshoes, secure the DZ, and wait for the drop. The men have changed into snow-camo one-piece micro-climate uniforms — cool on the move and warm at long halts. The crew’s rack for this mission is a standard one: M-4 carbines with 25 mags, frag and smoke grenades, big friggin’ knives, three L-9 laser sniper rifles for the demo/support team, and a few other goodies. The only specialized equipment will come in with the drop.

Jack is the only one with a non-standard device: the optimized radio-magnetic spectrometer, or what the crew call the evilometer. It detects negative energy waves. Evil. Looks like a flashlight. It’s clipped to his assault harness.

Because of the incoming snowstorm, Jack has modified his plan slightly to take advantage of the limited visibility and sound deadening effects. Rather than do a proper recon from distant vantage points, then determine the disposition of the base, Jack has opted to head straight in and do the recon from the inside. The internal recon is one of the most risky maneuvers known to man in this field of work; few teams would even contemplate such a move. But for Jack and his crew, it’s not that big a deal.

Even at this distance, Jack notices, the evilometer is picking up a reading of 2; so, unless he goes in and finds that the place is actually Sister Mary Margaret’s Home for Wayward Children, filled with nuns schooling cute, apple-cheeked children, he’ll probably just destroy the base anyway, no matter what’s in there. Although, he’s got a hunch it’s no orphanage.

His team leaders give Jack the thumbs-up. They move out.

* * *

The squad C-130 enters Colorado airspace at 15,000 feet, then goes into a near dive over its objective. The cargo door is opened. The pilot levels the plane off one kilometer from the DZ. It’s called a slam-dunk drop; dive in, make the drop, pull out fast, like a hand from boiling water. Even if the plane is picked up on radar, the load will be on the ground before the enemy gets a chance to respond. When the reaction force reaches the DZ, they will be gone. And if they intercept Jack’s crew en route to the objective, the security will be dealt with expeditiously. However, the slam-dunk drop is such a bold and dangerous maneuver for any fixed-wing aircraft that most experienced radar technicians would write it off simply as a helicopter searching for lost backcountry skiers.

Jack can’t see the plane through the clouds, but he can hear the muted howl of the engines as the C-130 crosses the DZ, then begins its rapid ascent. Altogether, the plane spends two minutes and forty-three seconds in the area of operation. Short and sweet.

Also deploying from the aircraft is the squad countermeasure smart drone: the CX-7, launching from a below-wing mounting unit. The drone, which will circle the objective at 3,000 feet AGL, above the storm clouds and undetectable, carries an electromagnetic frequency blaster and a radiosonic gat gun. Both of these weapons will come into play in neutralizing the base’s motion detection and visual security apparatuses.

The smart drone will only use the amount of force necessary to complete the task. It will scramble, distort, or block signals first so as to not announce an infiltration. It will destroy devices only if it must. The CX-7 will monitor the men’s movements and take appropriate actions as needed. Below the drone, the men will move through the area like ghosts.

Jack and his crew can see the round outlines of the cargo parachutes drifting down through the falling snow. They will use the last remaining light to de-rig the snow machines before they move out.

Three heavy drop pallets land softly in the powdery snowpack a hundred meters to Jack’s front. The cargo chutes then deflate and drape silently down across the loads. Jack signals his DZ team to move out. Six men run for the pallets, six stay on security.

The vehicles being unloaded and prepped are custom-made armored snowmobiles powered by 125 horsepower 2-cylinder, twin turbo engines with nitrous oxide injection. They can carry three fully equipped combat troops at a top speed of 75 mph over flat terrain. They can climb a 50-degree hill and give you 49 cents change. And, with a good head start, they can cross up to two kilometers of open water before going under — Jack did it once up near Baffin Island; he blew the engine and threw the tread, but he made it.

Three of the vehicles are accompanied by cube-shaped trailers on skids. Inside these is Jack’s demo request. Nine Z-rods. Four foot-long cylinders packed with P-10 super high explosive tipped with deep burrowing cones made from a proprietary super-enhanced mega-magnesium that heat the earth to a liquified state only millimeters ahead of the subterranean missiles. They can penetrate solid rock to a depth of 1800 feet.

The only drawback to Z-rods is that if the precise location of the underground target is unknown, targeting nodes must be placed for the rods to track, which is what Jack’s go team will be doing inside the base: locating and marking targets of interest as the demo team sets up the Z-rods above ground.

The DZ team leader waves the security team forward. Jack and the rest of the crew run ahead.

Two men on each machine. Jack hops on the leftmost vehicle and punches the ignition button with his thumb. Doc hops on behind him, his weapon at the high ready. Jack guns the throttle and the snow machine lurches off the pallet and drops into the fluffy snow. Races up the incline. His crew right behind him.

Although the snow machines don’t have stealth capability, with the storm, the deep powdery snowpack, and the gigantic mufflers, the machines’ signature is barely above that of a kitten’s purr after a bowl of warm milk. No one will hear them coming.

They don’t head straight for the objective. They first make a dogleg to the east to bypass a hairy ridge line and avoid running head-on into any reaction forces stupid enough to come out; if they are stupid enough, though, and should they make it to the drop zone, they will have no choice but to follow the snow machines’ tracks. And if they’re following tracks, Jack knows what to expect and from where. And when you know where your enemy is coming from, you can more easily manipulate the situation to your own advantage, which is what Jack always does.

* * *

Proceed to part 2...

Copyright © 2008 by O. J. Anderson