2/19th Special Weapons Group Area
Secure Area, Alfenwehr
West Germany
29 October, 1987
2300 Hours

The night was freezing cold. My ears popped as soon as I pulled back the oiled tarp and the pressure equalized. I pushed my way out and looked around. The stars were needle bright in the sky, the moon large and crystal clear, as I looked up to see that the sky was clear again. I stood up, my boots fitting with the ice climbing cleats, the painpill letting me move my knee a lot easier, ignore the flaring pain.

It was grinding inside, that sensation had been hidden behind the flaring pain. My thigh hurt every time I put weight on it, hurt worse than it had. My hip ground when I moved my leg, and I wondered if the padding inside of the hip that the thigh bone rotated against was torn or damaged. Another step, and the pain flared in my knee, thigh, and hip.

Yeah, there was something wrong with my left leg.

If I survived, I'd check in with the doctors, get it X-rayed and checked.

Probably when I asked for my furlough to get my head straight. I'd be sent to Blackbriar Ridge for long term psychiatric evaluation and observation, that would be the perfect time to ask them to check out my hip, knee, thigh, and shoulder.

"You really going to drop from the program, Ant?" Westlin asked.

I shook my head. "No. Just ask for my furlough. I've done more than three years in Special Weapons in a hardship posting, I'm eligible, and I need to step away from it all."

She laughed. "Do you really think Blackbriar will let you leave here, Ant?"

I shrugged as I tromped across the ice. I'd checked the thickness of the ice sheet when I'd climbed out. It was nearly a foot thick. Soft ice under a hard brittle surface. That was dangerous as hell, and I knew it.

There was nearly forty feet of snow under the ice, held in place by the ice. If the sheet cracked far enough, if there was a big enough shift under the ice pack, it would cause an avalanche that would just bury everything in its path almost to Main Post.

That gave me an idea. I had a bunch of 40mm HE grenades on the bandoleer. If worse came to worse I could break the ice sheet back toward the ridge, fire off a few toward the far edge, and see if it made everything slide.

Plus, I had C-4 back in the tower, almost thirty pounds worth. I knew where det-cord was. I could rig an avalanche pretty easily. It would sweep most of the snow off the Group Area, but nothing important if the berm worked to keep the snow from sweeping away the vehicles.

In reality, the snow would probably pull the vehicles with it.

It was an option.

I'd do that before I popped off the nukes to keep them out of any Soviet force's hands.

"Well, that's definitely a Kurt Russel option," Westlin laughed.

"If I have to, I'll destroy the barracks just like I plan on taking out the chow hall and took out the motor pool bays," I told her. She laughed at that. "Henley said: extreme prejudice. That will fit the definition for sure."

Westlin laughed again.

"Leave your mouth covered, Ant," Westlin told me. "Ice crystals, snow seeds are thick even if you can't see them."

I nodded. The chow hall was growing closer, and I could see that the roof was clean of snow.

I passed the bodies of the men I had killed earlier, still laying where they had fallen. None of them had been searched, none of them were missing their gear.

"You gonna strip the bodies?" Westlin asked me. I shook my head. "You should," she said, stopping to tap one body with the toe of her tennis shoe. "Might have stuff you need."

"Not yet," I told her, "Got the things I need. I'll collect their shit when I head back so I'm not burdened by it going in."

She nodded, "That's why you get the big bucks, Ant, you've got the tactical sense. I'd be bogged down by their shit."

I was getting closer, and I could see the holes in the ice. I tried to decide if I wanted to go into the chow hall or just blow the roof from where I was.

"Recon, Ant, gather intel," Westlin said.

I nodded, veering away from the entrance hole, and heading toward the roof. It looked like the wind swept the snow away. I moved up when something caught my eye.

The lizard tried to highlight it, tried to bring it to my attention, but his boards were still unresponsive. Aine was still mugging faces at him from one of the monitors. Cromwell had joined her, putting her thumb against her nose and wiggling her fingers.

I tromped over to the tunnel entrance, stopping and looking into it, squinting. It was dim in the tunnel, so I pulled out another chemstick and cracked it, the green light bathing me before I tossed it into the sloping tunnel.

There were dead people down there.

"What the fuck?" Westlin asked. "Gonna go check?" I shook my head, looking at the way the steep slope glittered. "Why not?"

"Look at the ice. That's got to be slippery as shit," I told her.

"Maybe they couldn't get up? Think there was a snap that got them? 'Cause they're dead," Westlin said thoughtfully.

"Huh," I turned away and headed toward the roof. It was easy to reach, and I climbed up the shingles and looked in the skylight windows.

There were a few battery powered lamps inside the chowhall on the tables, and I could see bodies scattered around. There was no movement inside the chow hall.

"What killed them?" Westling asked kneeling down next to me and peering through the skylight.

My head was killing me, had been since I'd bumped into the lightning rod on top of the SW guard tower, but I still considered what I was seeing. They were scattered around, more than a few had their hands at their collars. Their faces were dark, and more than a few were curled up in the fetal position.

"I think I know," I told her, standing up and turning away from the chow-hall. I shoulder slung the M-14 and pulled the M-79 off of my back. I cracked the breech and let it hang down, pulling one of the HEDP 40mm grenades off of the bandoleer and slotting it into the launcher.

I walked away from the chow hall and Westlin hurried to catch up to me, dressed again in her battle rattle.

At least her Kevlar was velcrod shut instead of hanging open so what killed her mocked me.

"What?" She asked.

I didn't answer, saving my wind to climb up the slope at the edge of the roof toward the ice sheet. My cleats dug into the ice, allowing me to climb up. Otherwise I might have been unable to climb the slick ice sheet.

"Well, what killed them?" Westlin asked me.

I stayed silent, getting to the top and moving across the ice sheet. The wind had picked up, sweeping down from the north, almost slamming me face first. Instead I went down on one knee, hitting an ice fold just under my kneecap. I groaned with the pain, feeling sweat pop out on my forehead. I struggled to my feet and kept moving forward, counting off one hundred steps.

"Come on, Ant, what killed them?" She asked, standing in front of me, crossing her arms and pouting.

"Shh, concentrating," I said, turning around. I lifted the M-79 and estimated the range at about fifty to sixty meters.

ALERT! AUTONOMOUS COMBAT SYSTEMS OFFLINE! ALERT!

The single line of text floated up past Aine and Cromwell's faces on the two monitors, attracting the lizard's attention.

I shushed him and lifted the 40mm grenade launcher until my instincts told me that it was the perfect distance angle and accounted for the wind sheer.

The M-79 made a "bloop" sound that was whipped away by the wind. I cracked the breech open and pulled the expended shell out of the launcher and tucked it in my pocket.

The grenade exploded, shattering the roof as I pulled another HEDP out of bandoleer. There was a loud crack as the ice sheet flexed from the force of the explosion.

The High-Explosive, Dual Purpose round packed a hell of a wallop.

I fired another one, aiming further back on the chow hall roof. The explosion flashed shadows across the ice.

"You aren't hurrying," Westlin's voice was curious as I reloaded the M-79 with another HEDP round. "Why not? What if they come at you?"

"They won't," I told her, snapping the grenade launcher shut. I raised it up and fired again.

"Come on, Ant, what killed them?" She asked as I carefully body slung the weapon after unloading it. She was pouting and tapping her foot. I just flashed her a smile as I shrugged the M-14 off my shoulder, grabbing it at port-arms and turning.

I started slogging away, heading toward the barracks.

"Come on, Ant, what killed them?" She asked me.

I grinned at her. "All right, let's train you up," I told her.

"Really? Seriously, Ant?" She asked.

I tapped my rank on my helmet, "NCO now, Westlin."

She sighed and pouted as we headed across the ice toward the barracks, but nodded.

"All right, the air level up here can be dangerous, right?" I said.

She nodded, "Right. The pressure and oxygen content can be low enough to cause serious problems."

"Correct," I told her. "Now, they were using kerosene lamps as well as battery powered lamps, right?"

"Well, yeah."

Smiling I glanced at her. "All the kerosene lamps were all out, right?"

"The oxygen levels were too low?" She asked.

"Right, but what changed, what really messed it all up?" I asked.

She frowned as we kept walking. It was a half mile to the barracks, which were hidden under the snow. After a minute or so she looked up. "I don't know."

"The CS grenades," I told her, flashing her a grin. "CS gas is normally heavier than air, the air was even thinner, meaning that the dense smoke spread out even faster, but remained in heavier concentration since it wouldn't go up the tunnels," I moved my hands in a sloping motion.

"They suffocated," She suddenly said.

"Right," I answered, "The CS gas grenades just gulped down the oxygen while the thermite core turned the CS powder to gas. Then the gas spread out into the air, even though it was hotter than the ambient air, by nature it was heavier than the thing air. It didn't diffuse, it just filled the entire area."

"Holy shit," She said softly.

I nodded. "Yeah. Death by CS."

We were quiet, the only sound her boots tapping on the ice and my cleats crunching into it. She was obviously thinking hard.

"You knew that was a chance, didn't you?" She suddenly accused.

I just grinned at her.

"Holy shit. Dying of suffocation is one thing, but they died..." her voice trailed off.

"Badly," I said harshly. "Choking on military grade tear gas."

"Jesus, Ant," her voice was horrified.

"Special Weapons all the way," I growled. I could see the area I knew, by the landmarks, was the barracks. I knew where the tunnel entrances was.

This wasn't going to be easy at all. These guys were all crazy, and I'd tried twice to go in peacefully. The motor pool didn't count, there was no goddamn way I was going to be able to use diplomacy with those weirdos.

The image of the guy's face appeared in mind's eye and I felt goosebumps raise up on my back. I shivered and pushed the image away.

The lizard sat back and glared at his monitors and controls.

Westlin stood on top of one of the tunnel entrances, which had been filled with snow as the wind gusts had swept it off the ice and onto main post. From where I was standing was the tunnel entrances and the tunnels, the road in front of the barracks, the barracks themselves, then the back parking lot. From where I was standing I could see the one hundred fifty foot drop that was a steep hill behind the barracks, then about a quarter mile to the CIA Listening Post, then about another hundred meters before a cliff.

I could feel the urge to go to the CIA Listening Post and curl up in my little shelter. Sleep for a day or two and regain my strength.

...secure those weapons using any means necessary...

...extreme prejudice...

The desire was easy to push away, push down, lock away and hold back.

I put it with where my feelings for Nancy was locked away.

...can't you just be happy for me, Anthony?...

"Fuck you," I snarled, losing control of my emotions for a moment. The raw red rage surged up, and for a split second I absolutely hated Nancy.

Not for choosing someone else. OK, yeah, a little bit. But the way she wore my sister's ring every day. The way she talked about what's his fuck all the time. The way she...

Goddamn you, Nancy Nagle, for leaving me alone when I needed you, with only Westlin's ghost for company.

"It's OK to be mad, Ant," Westlin said.

I realized I'd stopped, gone down on one knee, slung my weapon, kneeling next to the tunnel entrance, and was furiously digging at the snow.

"The unit pronounced you missing, then presumed dead 72 hours later, and less than a week after that she met, got engaged, and married that guy," Westlin said.

I dug harder. The snow flying around me as I burrowed into the tunnel.

"She's wearing your sister's ring, knowing good and goddamn well she was killed in '69 by that sniper," Westlin said, her voice thick with rage.

I broke free of the snow, exposing the tunnel.

WARNING! COMBAT SYSTEMS ENGAGED! WARNING!

"She never even asked what happened to you, never asked why you are limping so bad," Westlin said, following me into the tunnel. I snapped the handle of the ice axe so the serrated pick snapped into position. The chemlight lit the tunnel with a soft glow as I followed the twisting, sloping tunnel down into the dark.

"She doesn't even care, Ant," Westlin said quietly.

WARNING! AUTONOMOUS COMBAT SYSTEM CONTROLS OFFLINE! WARNING!

I growled low in my throat, moving further down the tunnel, hefting the axe. I could smell the stale air and twisted the valve slightly, increasing the amount of O2 flowing through the rubberized tube and into my mouth, where each inhalation pulled it into my lungs to charge my muscles.

"She just asked if you could be happy for you, didn't even ask how you felt about coming back from that nightmare to find your entire world had been destroyed," Westlin said, her voice dark and malevolent.

WARNING! EMPATHY/COMPASSION CIRCUITRY LOW VOLTAGE! WARNING!

I realized I was grinning under the cold weather mask moving into deeper into the tunnels. I took a left at the first crossroad, knowing without knowing how that it would lead me toward one of the entrances to the barracks.

"She asked for the necklace back that she gave you for your birthday, and you heard what she told Groom," Westlin said, "That she gave it Jerry as a gift."

The raw red rage was no longer flickering, not longer a slow burn, it was a roaring red thing that I could feel twisting in my chest.

WARNING! POLLING SUBPROCESSORS NOT RESPONDING! WARNING!

"Your car, your car, Ant, is parked out front of her house," Westlin was grinning, "You've seen her husband drive her to work in your car because you left it to her in your will and now it's hers."

My pulse was pounding at my temples. The lizard was pounding at his controls, desperately trying to bring them back online.

"She knew you wouldn't ask for it back, so she didn't even offer," Westlin said. "You overheard her, just like I did, that she's let Jerry fuck her in the back of your car since you've been back."

WARNING! CRITICAL SYSTEMS HEAT WARNING! WARNING!

I could see the far door of the barracks appear in the greenish glow of the chemlight. It was wedged open by one of the slats for the white picket fence out front of the barracks. I tromped toward it, the cleats on my boots clacking on the ice and frozen cement.

"The rest of Atlas, the rest of Actual, come to your room to have a late birthday party for you, and she couldn't even be bothered to show up," Westlin whispered.

WARNING! CRC CHECK ERROR IN MULTIPLE PROCESSORS! WARNING!

Lights were dancing at the edge of the door, flashing across the wire reinforced glass, as other people approached the door. The lizard stopped, staring at his three working monitors. Aine. Cromwell. Westlin. All stared back at him, mocking him.

"She doesn't love you now, Ant," Westlin whispered.

WARNING! VOLTAGE SPIKES DETECTED IN COMBAT SYSTEMS! WARNING!

I stopped in front of the door, gripping the ice climbing axe with both hands. The lizard was desperately flipping switches.

"She didn't love you, Ant, she used you," Westlin whispered.

WARNING! VOLTAGE SPIKES DETECTED IN MULTIPLE SYSTEMS! WARNING!

I could smell ripe blackberries, ferns, the scent of trees. A hot, feral smell, the smell of fresh blood. A wild smell. The door started to open from the inside. The lizard hammered on his panels with both fists.

"She never loved you, Ant," Westlin grinned.

WARNING! SYSTEM OVERLOAD! WARNING!

The door opened, revealing four men in makeshift cold weather gear.

"BLOOD FOR LUGUS!" I howled.

And drove the ice axe into the first one's chest.

The dying started.

The screaming started.

I started smiling behind the cold weather mask.