Gray Matter Splatter (A Deckard Novel Book 4) (31 page)

“Oh?”

“Impressed that you are still alive. This is why I wanted to
talk to you. You’re a survivor, and despite what is coming, I have
a feeling that you may survive. You’re strong. Somehow, I know that
we will meet again.”

The blade master smiled. “Sooner than you think.”

Chapter 29

Canadian Arctic

Linda cupped her hands above her forehead to shield her eyes from
the sun, squinting to see better.

“There she is.”

“Holy shit,” Deckard said, he jaw nearly hitting the ground.

Even from a distance, the mass of the craft was overwhelming. It
skimmed just above the Arctic Ocean, kicking up a white spray in its
wake that shot up above its fuselage.

“That plane is unreal.”

“Technically, it isn’t a plane,” Linda informed him. “It
also isn’t a ship or a hovercraft.”

“Well what the hell is it then?”

“An
ekranoplan
—a completely unique class of
transportation craft.”

As it got closer to Ellesmere Island, the mercenaries stared in
awe alongside the fiber optic engineers. It seemed to hover just
above the water, massive turbine engines propelling it forward on
short, stunted wings. The fuselage looked big enough to fit several
city buses inside.

“Our benefactor had it built as an experimental craft to serve
as a proof of concept,” Linda continued. “He dusted off older
Soviet designs used to engineer the so-called Caspian sea monster,
hoping it will demonstrate a faster and more efficient means of cargo
transport than today’s container ships.”

As the ekranoplan got closer, Deckard could see that it was
coasting about 20 feet above the water. Thinking about his experience
around military helicopters, it dawned on him. “Ground effects,”
he said with a smile. “It is creating a cushion of air under it to
float on.”

“Right. The closer the wings are to the water, the less drag it
creates. The ekranoplan has to get its start with the turbines until
it lifts off the water and air passing under the belly of the craft
creates a bubble of air pressure.”

“Unbelievable.”

Powering down the turbines, the pilot of the ekranoplan set its
mass down in the ocean, causing a splash of icy water less than a
kilometer away from the fiber optic station. The short wings rotated
toward them as the plane turned and began churning through the water
toward them.

“Who did you say your benefactor is again?” Deckard asked.

“John Mann. He owns our company, DFI, and a number of other
subsidiaries. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”

“Sorry, I’ve kind of been living outside the mainstream for a
while.”

“I bet you have,” Linda said, shooting the mercenary
commander a look. “The commercial manned mission to Mars planned
for 2030? Powered armor systems for the Department of Defense? Any of
this stuff ringing a bell?”

“I’ll have to do some reading.”

“No need, John is on his ekranoplan right now. After talking to
him and putting in your request for transport, he sounded excited to
meet you guys.”

Deckard frowned.

The noise created by the turbines was overwhelming. A white haze
blew across the mercenaries as the ekranoplan spun around on its
belly and began backing toward the shore. Deckard held his arms up to
shield his face from the snow stinging his face. As the turbines spun
down, the ramp lowered. A loadie, wearing a fight suit and heavy
parka, stood next to a control panel inside the fuselage, operating
the hydraulics until the ramp set down on the rocky shore.

Off the back of the massive aircraft, a figure, flanked by a half
dozen-man entourage, emerged. Two looked like bodyguards from their
bulk. The others, more like executive assistant types.

“That’s John Mann?” Deckard asked.

“The one and only.”

Mann was in his mid-fifties, with crow’s feet at the
corners of his eyes, but otherwise looked and moved like a man
several decades younger. Clearly he took care of himself. His hair
was a mane of white that flowed back and almost down to his
shoulders.

Deckard stepped forward and offered his hand. Both bodyguards
moved to intercept him, cautious of a stranger decked out in
paramilitary gear like a storm trooper on Hoth.

“It’s quite OK, gentlemen,” Mann said, ordering his
bodyguards to stand down. The billionaire reached out and shook
Deckard’s hand vigorously.

“I just want to tell you what an honor it is to meet you,”
Mann said with a toothy grin.

“Honor?”

“Yes, I want to thank you for your service. So many are being
asked to sacrifice so much in over a decade of war. You’re true
patriots, which is why I sponsor a not-for-profit called Honor Our
Heroes. It is a registered 501(c) that promotes healthy lifestyles
for veterans and their families. We’ve had some great successes,
and if you look at our website you can see the numerous testimonials
that—”

“Hey, uh,” Deckard interrupted. “I really appreciate your
support for this operation, but we’re kind of dealing with the end
of the world here. Civilization at the brink and all that.”

Mann blinked. “Oh, I see.”

“Yeah, we kind of need to get a move on here.”

“How can I help?”

“I’m waiting to hear back from some national security types
back in the States, but we need to get everyone on board and prepped
for movement. I’m not sure of the destination yet, but I’m sure
you know that the enemy hijacked your cable-laying ship and headed
east.”

“And I would very much like to recover my property!”

“We’ll see what we can do about that as well. I also
have an injured man here. Pat needs a medical evacuation as soon as
possible, but we can coordinate that with the Canadian military.”

Deckard turned as he heard a door slam. Aghassi had emerged from
the station and was marching toward him.

“Hey,” he called out. “It’s Greenland. NSA has a hit from
a Danish mine. Weird commo signals showing up all of a sudden. No way
it is unrelated.”

“What about the ship?”

“Danes and Canadians are having a bit of a pissing contest over
jurisdiction and so far nothing has been sighted.”

“We need to move on any lead we have right now. There isn’t
any time to develop the situation further.”

“Greenland and sovereign Danish territory,” Mann protested.
“I can’t just—”

“It has already been arranged,” Aghassi informed the
billionaire. “We will meet with Danish military liaisons when we
hit the ground.”

Barry coughed behind Deckard. “Speaking of liaisons,” the
JTF2 warrant officer said, “please obtain them the next time you
decide to visit Canada.”

Deckard shook the Canadian’s hand.

“I will. Is this the end of the line for you?”

“My government would never approve us to conduct military
operations in Greenland, especially alongside a private military
company. I have to admit that it is quite tempting to slip the leash,
but it could cause an international incident.”

“I understand.”

“We'll sweep up back here and make sure that your man is taken
care of when the air ambulance shows up.”

“You have no idea how grateful I am for that. Pat is one of the
best.”

“Oh, I know. We heard stories about him from some unit members
when we were deployed to Afghanistan last year.”

Deckard laughed. “I can only imagine.”

* * *

The two platoons of mercenaries loaded into the ekranoplan,
sitting on the bare metal floor. Since the craft was fitted for cargo
transport, there were only a few seats for the pilots, Mann, and his
entourage. The men of Samruk had to sit down with their rucksacks
between their legs, skis pointing in every direction, and find
something to hold on to.

As the turbines began to spin, Deckard’s eyes swept across his
men, who seemed quite small inside the hull of the massive
ekranoplan. They looked exhausted, sleepy, and demoralized after
suffering defeats, losing teammates, and being worn down by the
Arctic itself. He knew exactly what they needed to get spirits up.
With his Kalashnikov slung over his shoulder, he looked at the
mercenaries and screamed.

“Judas was a buddy fucker!”

Eyeballs perked open and heads snapped up toward him.

“Fuck. That. Buddy fucker!” the men yelled back.

“Moses was a land nav no-go!”

“You can be one two o’lordy! Look away, beyond the blue
hor-izon!” the mercenaries shouted in a handful of different
accents.

“David was a small-arms expert!”

“You can be one two o’lordy! Look away, beyond the blue
hor-izon!”

“Mary was a small-town whore!”

“You can be one two o’lordy! Look away, beyond the blue
hor-izon!”

“Noah led a small boat movement!”

“You can be one two o’lordy! Look away, beyond the blue
hor-izon!”

“Jesus had a wooden tripod!”

“You can be one two o’lordy! Look away, beyond the blue
hor-izon!”

“Judas was a buddy fucker!”

“Fuck. That. Buddy fucker!”

David Mann sat in his comfortable suede seat, strapped in
by the seat belt as his jaw hung open, his eyes widening like
saucers. His aides looked at each other in horror as the loadie began
closing the ramp.

“You can tell a Ranger by his boots!” Deckard yelled a new
Ranger song.

“By his boots!”

“You can tell a Ranger by his boots!”

“By his boots!”

“Because they’re shiny as glass and they’re always kicking
ass!”

“By his boots!”

“You can tell a Ranger by his room!”

“By his room!”

“You can tell a Ranger by his room!”

“By his room!”

“Because it smells like a shitter but you can always find a
spitter!”

Now that their blood pressure was back up, Deckard walked the
lines, stepping between the mercenaries sprawled out on the deck.

“You can tell a Ranger by his girlfriend!”

“By his girlfriend!”

“You can tell a Ranger by his girlfriend!”

“By his girlfriend!”

“Because she dances at Deja Vu, and she’s been fucked by you,
you, and you!” Deckard sang as he pointed to three of the young
Kazakh troopers.

As the pilots guided the ekranoplan out into the open
water, Deckard was forced to grab onto one of the metal ribs of the
aircraft to support himself. The craft vibrated and shook, twisting
like a 50-year-old tourist bus screaming down a mountain pass in
Costa Rica. For a moment, it felt like it would come apart at the
seams, washing the mercenaries out over the arctic waters. Suddenly,
the craft leveled out and set down. Not on the ground, but on the air
cushion the ekranoplan created.

They were riding the ground effects to Greenland.

Chapter 30

Off the coast of Greenland

The ekranoplan splashed down without incident and began
making its way to the shore. They would deploy a small team to link
up with Danish soldiers who had been dispatched to act as military
liaisons. While in the air, Samruk International had gotten word that
the Danish government had been unable to get calls through to the
rare earth minerals mine that the NSA had pinpointed as a potential
hotspot for enemy activity.

Deckard stepped into a small inflatable boat with Aghassi and
Nikita, using the outboard electric motor to putter their way to
shore. It was simply too steep and rocky for the ekranoplan to
deliver them directly to land.

Although not on most people’s radars, the sparsely populated
country of Greenland was a Danish territory, one with immense
political implications on the world stage. Greenland was
strategically located in the Arctic, and was home to the Thule U.S.
military base in the northwest, which provided maritime and air
coverage as well as logistical support for NATO. Greenland also
housed facilities for Five Eyes surveillance programs. Thule housed
the Ballistic Missile Early Warning System or BMEWS. Since the Cold
War, America had also harbored a fear that Greenland could be used as
a staging ground by foreign powers to launch an invasion into the
mainland United States.

In recent years, the Danes had aggressively ramped up
defense spending on Greenland in order to deter and counter Russian
military aggression in the Arctic as they expanded their sphere of
influence in the region and engaged in strategic posturing.

This led to a new balance of power in the Arctic, and the
Danish government had shrewdly leveraged access to the territory by
the United States for various economic and political concessions over
the years. As portions of the icepack continued to thaw, Danish
mining consortiums were quickly setting up shop to harvest rare earth
minerals which had been previously locked under the ice. Rare earth
minerals were a critical component in the manufacturing of everything
from computer hard drives to MRI machines to aircraft engines.

The rare earth mineral industry was once dominated by the
United States, but today, China had pulled far ahead of any Western
nation. Greenland, however, was rich in such elements, and that was
not even mentioning the sizable hydrocarbon reserves offshore, but
still inside Denmark’s exclusive economic zone. Other claims of
offshore reserves overlapped with claims made by the Russian
government, leading to even more political friction.

It had been a short flight to Greenland, and it was still
only midday as Deckard found a place to beach the rubber raft on
shore. They had landed the ekranoplan well away from the rare earth
minerals mine, but it would not take them long to get there. It was
called an offset infiltration: getting close, but not so close that
you tipped your hand before moving the last stretch as stealthily as
possible.

Pulling the raft up on shore, the three mercenaries clawed
their way up a small cliff and up onto the tundra. Unspoiled snow
spread out in front of them leading up to the mountain ranges in the
distance. White, blue, and black shadows fell between the ridges. The
sun beat down on them, its power signaling the summer would arrive in
the Arctic before much longer. Aghassi began scanning with his
binoculars, but it was Nikita who first got eyes on with his 10-power
sniper scope.