Russian Winter Catu Book 2 Ch 10

On the road from Cape Town, South Africa

Shane

Cooke and Steven Patmore were taken by submarine to Cape Town. From there they were transported to Morhotlong, a city in the country of Lesotho. Being a landlocked country nearly in the center of South Africa, the country doesn't give much resistance as the coalition moves in.

They sit in a troop transport truck guarded by two Chinese soldiers. The trip to the mines is a bit bumpy and the climate is a drastic change from the one in Russia.

"It is quite an idea you came up with," Cooke states.

"It's simple really. Since currents flow naturally below Antarctica, generators can be placed below the ice and provide unlimited energy."

Patmore was quite proud of himself. He decided it was better to help

Winter

to the best of his abilities, instead of suffering the same fate as Dahlin.

"What do you think about this set up they have going?" Cooke asks.

"Well, something tells me I'm not their first choice for an energy expert. But it is an interesting concept. They transfer thermal heat from mines that only need minor blasting to get to that heat source.

Of course using the mines are easier to protect. Then they have pipeline running through Duran, on the east coast, then underwater to their base in Androka in Madagascar. Which will be easy to defend since it is on the coast as well.

With the Chinese occupying South Africa, the Russians will have protection of their pipelines at no extra effort or cost."

"Sounds like they have it all figured out," Cooke says laughing.

"Yeah, well if they manage to do what Dahlin says is impossible, and then I plan to be on the winning side."

"I know what you mean. I plan to have a family left when all this is over and if that means helping them, then so be it."

The truck comes to a slow halt. The two soldiers motion for the men to exit the truck.

"Looks like we made it," Patmore says a little more enthusiastically. He is glad to see someone else in the group who sees things in the same light as he did.

——

A

constant vibration on the ground jars Spencer awake. He lay there trying to reorient himself.

Where the hell am I?

The vibration increases and the rumbling of trucks resounded off the cliff walls. It all came back to him. The battle with the unknown demon, the bus crashing over the side and now the pain was returning to his broken ribs.

He forces himself up and looks around for someplace to hide. He knows that sound; the sound of heavy trucks packed with soldiers and this was one place he doesn't want to be when they show up.

The road he is on doesn't have any options. He can either head opposite of the noise, which will only delay his capture or he can scale the wall. Thinking of the latter, he laughs to himself. He has one option left, down the wall. The thoughts of Sam flood his mind and he nearly falls to his knees in anguish.

I failed her. I couldn't even keep her safe.

He faced a similar situation not long ago. Delgrious, the demon behind the plot to disrupt America by kidnapping of the President's daughter, had presented Spencer with a choice to save Sam or the lives of several dozen citizens.

The choice was simple and maybe selfish, but he loved Sam and he wasn't prepared to lose her. Thankfully though, he never had to make a choice. Delgrious was forced to retreat when Samuel Dimetri attacked.

Dimetri was a demon hunter, a rogue with a vengeance against Delgrious. Spencer never knew the reason for it, but he had a few guesses.

After the incident, he hoped he'd never have to face something like it again. To his dismay, here he was suffering a loss he was not prepared to have.

Pull it together Spencer. God has a plan for these things.

He pushes his thoughts aside and heads for the edge. This will be a painful climb, but it is better than the fate that awaits him if those soldiers find him.

He begins his descent just as the first truck comes into view. He has always enjoyed rock climbing at the YMCA, but the rock wall was the limit to his expertise. The real thing isn't too much different, except for not having the convenient hand and foot holds and of course a hundred foot drop if he slipped up.

Spencer's ribs throb and lying unconscious didn't help matters any. Each deep breath he takes or long reach he has to make, sends shocks of pain throughout his chest. A few times the pain is so intense, he nearly loses his grip.

He makes it down twenty-five feet when the trucks come to a halt where he descended from. Troops unload and begin fanning out looking for their quarry. It would only be a matter of time before one of them look over the edge and see him.

Think damn it, think.

Just as he feared, a soldier does just that and peers over the edge. The soldier's eyes go wide as he is surprised to see Spencer there. At the same time Spencer is just as shocked. He knows it would happen, just not

that

fast.

The soldier turns to the rest of the group. "Ya hashel, ego zdes!" he yells. "I found him, over here!"

Several of the troops close by, run over to the edge. They begin to yell something, but Spencer can't understand anything they are saying.

The commanding officer, Spencer guesses because of the different hat he is wearing, gives an order and the soldiers all aim their rifles at him.

I guess it shoot first and scrape up the pieces later.

Feeling it was better to hope to survive the fall rather than be shot, he lets go and falls. The soldiers open fire and luckily none of the bullets hit him and his fall doesn't last long.

He descends about six feet when his hands catch hold of a small ledge. He pulls himself up and into a small cave, barely big enough for him to fit into. The soldiers fire several more rounds before the officer gives a cease fire order.

"Lyuboe podtverzhdenie padenie?" the officer asks. "Any confirmation of his fall?"

When all the soldiers answer no, he orders them to load up and call in search support. Orders were to bring a body back if Spencer couldn't be brought back in alive.

Spencer gives it a half hour after the sound of the last truck left before deciding to make the climb back up. He doesn't dare attempt his luck with going down and avoiding the soldiers.

It was beginning to get dark and as much rest as he wished he could take, the best time to travel would be at night. He has twenty-five miles to get to his destination and he only hopes he will make it.

——

Sir,

we have a problem," Strandon says as he rushes into McKinsey's office unannounced. Looking up from his desk, McKinsey has a face of dread. It was never in his opinion to hear a sentence begin with those words. "Agents Reeds and Roberts of CATU have been reported dead by the Russian government. They claim it was a deliberate attack upon their country by America and say they retaliated in the best interest of their people."

"Who all knew of them being there?" McKinsey asks.

"As far as the NSA knows, this was a mission kept close to the vest by CATU. If there was some kind of leak, it came from—" Strandon replies.

The President holds up his hand stopping him from continuing. He picks up the phone, "Joanne, please get me the Russian Prime Minister's office on the line."

After a few moments Alexander Chernoff answers the phone. "Yes Mr. President, how can Russia be of service to you?" he asks with a hiss.

"Prime Minister, your country makes claim that we had people there. It is wrong. We have no intention to get involved in your affairs."

"Is that right? Since when does America not try to control and police a country when they step out of line as you see it?" This was beginning to be an open war and Chernoff was not worried about the political or otherwise side effects.

Keeping his facade up, McKinsey replies, "I'm sorry you feel that way, but my call was concerning a mishap in your intelligence department. We simply are making no attempts to move on your country's military or others."

"For now until the evidence proves different I'll take your truth at face value. But if your country tries to police us in our actions we will strike and your forces will do nothing to be able to hinder us."

Without giving chance for McKinsey's reply, Chernoff hangs up. The open threat hangs in the air for a minute before McKinsey replaces the phone.

He looks at Strandon, "Get whereabouts of both the Russian and Chinese fleets. I want the NSA and CIA working on satellite images of troop deployment. I need this as of five minutes ago."

Strandon turns on his heels and heads out the door. McKinsey has his secretary call in his war staff and to prep the war room.

If it's a war they want, its one they will get.

The President was never one for rash action, but after the death of his daughter at the hands of terrorists and with the current situation of possible terrorists operating in America, he is willing to forgo a better political judgment.