Page 101 of Clive Cussler Ghost Soldier
“What?”
“The signal’s encrypted.” Juan tapped a few more buttons on the screen. “So are the rest.”
“What can we do?”
Juan punched another button. A circling wheel andprocessingappeared on the screen.
“We need to give the Mini a chance to decrypt the signal. It’s not as good as the Cray on theOregon, but Murph said it should do the job. We’ll have to wait and see.”
“We should get going if we want to snag that flag before the rally.”
“Agreed,” Juan said. “Head on a swivel, and stay out of sight.”
“Goes without saying.”
“Tell that to the Nigerian.”
51
Whatever concerns Rahul had about locating the enemy combatants dissipated as soon as the surveillance drones were deployed and the sensor packages dropped.
The wiry Indian national studied the display in his hand. While he obviously preferred a visual display, he was nevertheless able to track the movement of one of the mercenaries deployed into the mine. With each halting step, the merc plodded deeper into the bowels of the earth in search of his flag, completely unaware that his steps were triggering tiny sensors in the dirt.
Rahul’s admiration for the Gospel targeting program soared. He would never think to put either sensors or a weapon in this location. He grinned as his thumb hovered over a release button.
“Come on, now, dear fellow. Just a few more steps…”
?
The German inched his way forward in the dark, sweeping his weapon light over the ceiling and walls as he advanced, searching for trip wires, cameras, and robots. His shallow breaths were meant to calm his racing heart and focus his fevered brain. He had fought on three continents against some of the worst savages on the planet—but atleast they were human savages. He never imagined in a million years he would be in a battle with mechanical monsters. He felt as if he were in a horror movie. The stench of the Syrian’s burning flesh and hair still haunted him.
According to his wrist map, he was less than fifty meters away from his assigned flag. As soon as he activated it, he would race back to the rally point, careful to avoid exposing himself to aerial surveillance.
The German took another step, planting his combat boot in the dust. An audibleclickechoed above his head.
He froze.
He glanced up at the ceiling just in time to see the spiderlike device clinging to the rock open its pod and release its load of napalm gel. Seconds later, the German’s face was aflame, his blinded screams choked out by the unquenchable fire robbing him of oxygen—and his life.
?
The Polish twins crouched on the edge of a clearing, their target in sight.
Five hundred meters away, their assigned flag stood like a lone sentry, its stark white color in sharp contrast to the jungle’s cacophony of blazing greens. There was no way to reach the flag without exposing themselves to the sky overhead.
“We could wait until nightfall,” Pawel said, scanning the blue vault. He was the older of the two.
“I don’t see any drones up there,” his brother, Jakub, said.
“Doesn’t mean there isn’t one, depending on the altitude.”
“Unless he’s flying a Reaper, I doubt he’s got anything with that kind of range. Besides, nightfall won’t help us if he’s using night vision, thermal, or infrared.”
“So what do you want to do?”
“I want to get that flag. Wait here.” Jakub rose to his feet, but Pawel pulled him back down.
“What are you doing?”
