Area 51: Excalibur-6 (21 page)

"Yeah," Mickell allowed. "Sixty. And an equal number who tried it without have died. Like those odds?"

"I assume your man will have oxygen for me to use," Turcotte said.

"Even among those who use oxygen one-sixth die. And all of them take weeks to months to acclimatize at high altitude before making a summit attempt."

"So you've got oxygen in this packet, right, sir?" Turcotte repeated.

"Mike, it isn't just lack of oxygen that's a danger. There's pulmonary edema, cerebral edema, hypothermia—"

"Sir—" Turcotte looked his superior officer in the eyes. "I've got to go.

Whatever you've got in this packet beyond the oxygen that can help—"

Mickell suddenly seemed to notice all the others gathered around. "Mike. We never really planned on doing this. Unless—"

Turcotte nodded and completed the statement. "Unless there was absolutely no other option."

"Right."

"So what do you have besides oxygen?" Turcotte asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"Blood packing. Drugs. Experimental stuff that has never been used."

"OK."

Mickell didn't argue, accepting Turcotte's decision. "The 175

an I'm sending with you not only made the climb, but he's ;o a medic. He can prep you on the way there." "All right." Turcotte looked around. "Anyone have anything else before we split up?"

Ouinn spoke up. "I'll continue to go through the archive information you got from Moscow and I'll reread what has been translated of Burton's diary."

"Whatever you get, forward to Yakov and me," Turcotte said.

"Yes, sir."

A Delta Force soldier popped his head in the hangar. "Anyone want a ride to Turkey?"

"I'll walk you out to the plane," Turcotte said to Yakov. He turned to Mualama as the two headed out. "Make sure all the gear is loaded on the bouncer."

A specially modified C-130 transport aircraft was fifty meters away as they exited the hangar, engines running, back ramp down. Turcotte stopped just short of the ramp. Twenty Delta Force commandos were already inside, geared up and ready to go. Turcotte didn't envy them the long flight to Turkey. Colonel Mickell's staff had already coordinated inflight refueling for the trip.

"Good luck." Turcotte shook Yakov's hand.

"You also," Yakov said.

"I'll meet you in Turkey," Turcotte said as he stepped back from the ramp.

"I will see you there." Yakov stood in the shadows as the ramp slowly rose and the top came down from above. Turcotte walked away from the plane as the prop blast washed over him. The smell of burning fuel was one he always associated with C-130s and parachuting. He waited as the plane accelerated down the runway and rose into the air, banking toward the east. It was quickly out of sight, hidden by the pine trees surrounding the airfield.

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Turcotte paused as a Blackhawk helicopter swooped in The side door opened and several Delta operatives got off carrying gear toward the hangar. Mualama directed them toward the bouncer.

Colonel Mickell waited for him with a tall soldier with graying hair. "Mike, this is Jim Morris."

The medic had a large plastic case in each hand, so Turcotte just nodded. "I got your blood types from the colonel. We should be good to go."

Turcotte had always trusted Special Forces medics. They were highly trained and often, on missions to developing nations, worked as doctors, dentists, and surgeons. "You ready to go?"

"Yes, sir."

Turcotte turned to Mualama. "You ready?"

The African nodded.

"Let's do it, then."

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CHAPTER 12:,The Present

TAIWAN

As the first wave of mainland forces headed toward shore in their landing craft, Tek-Chong waited in his command post bunker eight hundred meters inland. He saw the golden dragon flying to the north about four miles up the beach, but like his comrades did not know what to make of it.

The Taiwanese forces put aside their shock and opened fire as soon as the mainland craft were in range, only to receive their second, and much more devastating, shock as their projectiles hit a shield wall projected by Chi Yu that covered the Chinese forces. Their bullets were stopped and shells exploded harmlessly. The weapon superiority that Taiwanese commanders had counted on to counter the numerical edge of the mainland forces was lost. The first wave hit the beaches, the ramps dropped, and thousands of men stormed ashore under the protection of the shield wall.

Despite the fact that he could see that the artillery wasn't penetrating the invisible shield in front of the landing forces, Tek-Chong ordered his forces to keep firing. He watched as rounds smacked harmlessly into the same shield and thousands of mainland troops poured ashore untouched, establishing a beachhead.

Not certain what to expect, Tek-Chong held his post. He

could see the mainland forces digging in, setting up their

rtillery, deploying armor, all with impunity. The most

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difficult and dangerous part of an invasion was being accomplished without a loss.

Reluctantly Tek-Chong ordered his forces to cease firing in order to save ammunition. He kicked the concrete wall of his bunker as he watched the mainland forces deploy.

His frustration was gone in an instant, though, when the mainland artillery suddenly opened fire. Tek-Chong screamed into his radio for his forces to fire back as the shells impacted among his forces. He realized the shield was down, but for how long?

The mainland troops fired ten volleys while his artillery managed to respond with three before the mainland ceased fire. His forces' next volley impacted on the shield and he called a halt. The pattern repeated five minutes later and Tek-Chong realized that his forces were on the losing end of this battle of attrition as long as the mainland forces knew when the shield would be active or inactive.

Tek-Chong reluctantly issued the order for his forces to pull back.

SOUTH KOREA

Nearly 1 percent of land in the Korean peninsula had been completely untouched by the intrusion of man for almost fifty years. While environmentalists in other countries would be thrilled, this was not the result of an ecological decision, but rather one of war. When the cease-fire was signed in 1953, the front line between the United Nations and Chinese troops zigged and zagged across the peninsula. Under the terms, both sides simply pulled back two kilometers, leaving a four-kilometer gap between the forces, which stretched from the Sea of Japan to the Yellow Sea.

Inside this no-man's-land rested discarded weapons,

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skeletons, and minefields—and a pure ecology untouched by humans. On the south side, about five hundred meters back from the DMZ, was a barbed-wire fence, mostly elec-5ed with a ten-meter cleared area on either side. Patrols moved along the southern side of the fence continuously, checking the plowed earth for footprints. Overlooking the Fence were observation posts manned by squads of soldiers.

With fifty years to plan, the North Korean assault into the DMZ was perfectly coordinated. And just as perfectly, the Americans and South Koreans began their defense. Within sixty seconds the perfect plans of both sides dissolved into the confusion and terror of all-out war.

Behind a large hill on the North Korean side of the border, out of direct line of sight from the south, was a large warehouse that appeared to be part of a motor pool complex. Crammed inside were two thousand soldiers comprising an infantry regiment of crack North Korean commandos under the command of Colonel Lin.

In the center of the large space that encompassed the interior of the building, was a sixty-foot-wide door, angled at forty-five degrees. Checking his watch, Lin held his wrist in front of his face as the second hand slowly made its circuit around. When it reached twelve, he chopped downward with his other hand, giving the signal to the engineers. The door slowly rumbled open, revealing a mine shaft that angled down into the ground toward the south, dimly lit by a row of naked lightbulbs strung along the roof. A platoon of engineers quickly ran into the tunnel, which was wide enough for ten men to enter abreast. Lin followed, his regiment behind him, tightly packed together.

The men were hungry, Lin knew. Literally. North Korea had slowly been starving as a nation for over a decade.

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Famine was a vulture on everyone's shoulders. The army got food first, but that brought little solace to men who knew their families at home were worse off.

Tens of thousands had died in the past several years.

Lin skidded to a halt as the engineers paused in front of him. He put his arms out wide and the thousands behind him also halted. He could feel his men, almost like a single living thing, a snake, slithering through the ground to attack their enemy to the south.

They moved for almost thirty minutes, moving farther and farther to the south.

The chief engineer put his hand on a plunger set in the center of the tunnel.

Wires led from it ahead. Lin knew they had passed under the DMZ between North Korea and South Korea and were across the border.

The charges had been in place for twenty years, ever since this particular tunnel had been dug. Every six months volunteers had sneaked into the tunnel and checked them.

The earth shuddered. Lin blinked as a cloud of dirt and dust came billowing down the tunnel toward him. He closed his eyes, feeling his skin covered, blanketed by the debris, a wind rushing down the tunnel. Then all was still.

Lin opened his eyes. There was daylight ahead. The way was open. Lin began moving forward even as the engineers set up ladders to help in the ascent. He felt that if he didn't move, the men behind would trample him, pound him into the dirt, in their desire to go up.

Lin paused for just the slightest of moments as he reached the ladder. Were they so desirous to attack or to join with their brethren in the south?

TURKEY

Five miles. The road was rising up, the land swelling toward Ararat. Two vehicles had already broken down and been left

It

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on the side of the road. General Kashir had his map out and was scanning the terrain ahead, searching for the best route toward the Ahora Gorge. It was on the northeast side of the mountain, so he directed his lead vehicle to leave the road and angle to the right.

The first indication of the incoming Turkish jets was when their ordnance obliterated the front third of Kashir's column. The blast wave from the bombs blew over Kashir like a warm wind. He craned his neck but the planes were already miles away, making a long turn to come back for another run. Glancing forward, he saw the smoking ruins of the front vehicles.

"Disperse and make for the rally point," he ordered.

The Iranian vehicles spread out and raced toward the mountain as the Turkish jets unloaded the rest of their bombs. Half of the tanks and APCs were destroyed, but the rest continued on course, heading up the slope of the mountain.

IN AIR

"We've received a message from Kelly." Quinn's voice sounded tinny and distant in the headphones, the result of being scrambled by the Delta equipment and descrambled by the receiver set next to Turcotte.

Turcotte glanced over his shoulder. Mualama was seated with his back against one of the plastic cases, his eyes closed, apparently resting. Morris had another case open and was going through the gear inside. Turcotte was seated in the depression in the center of the bouncer, his hands on the control. They had just crossed the East Coast of the United States and were headed east at over three thousand miles an hour across the Atlantic.

"And?" Turcotte asked.

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"We've got a grid for Excalibur. I'm sending it hard copy via onetime pad."

Turcotte nodded slightly as the machine scrolled out a piece of paper. "So if we have it, Aspasia's Shadow has it."

"A good assumption," Quinn said.

"Anything else in the message?"

"Just the coordinates and one word."

Turcotte waited.

"Beware."

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CHAPTER 13: THE PRESENT

SOUTH KOREA

The capital of South Korea, Seoul, has the disadvantage of being a relatively short distance from the demilitarized zone. As North Korean and Chinese forces poured over and under the border, General Carmody and the South Korean president had to make some quick recalculations based on the dual facts that they had neither tactical nuclear weapons nor American naval and air support from the fleet as expected.

The major advantage they did have in conducting their defense was the land itself and time. A mountainous land, the terrain of Korea lent itself to the defense by channeling attacking forces. And time played a role in that South Korea had had almost fifty years since the cease-fire that suspended the all-out war of their forebears to prepare themselves for another assault.

Unlike the war in the 1950s, both sides were more mechanized, making them more powerful, but also limiting their terrain mobility. As columns of North Korean and Chinese forces moved south, they were first struck by American and South Korean jets. Farther south, engineers placed conventional charges in preconstructed choke points along all major axes of advance.

Sides of mountains slid down onto roads, bridges crashed into rivers below, and dams were blown open, releasing torrents of water. To save their country, the South Koreans were sacrificing a good portion of it.

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At the Presidential Palace in Seoul and at Eighth Army Headquarters, men and women hurriedly packed up critical equipment and paperwork as a mass evacuation began. General Carmody was with President Pak, making last-minute decisions as they walked down the steps of the palace. They paused on their way to waiting helicopters as a swarm of Chinese-made M-ll missiles thundered into downtown Seoul, exploding two thousand meters above the ground in a breathtaking exhibition of flashes and bangs.

"I don't understand," Pak said, looking up at the sky and the apparently harmless detonations.

General Carmody, dressed in battle dress, flak jacket, and the other accoutrements of his profession, understood exactly. He ripped open the case on his left hip and pulled out the contents, extending it to the South Korean president. "Put this on."