Europa Strike(129)

The CWS science team’s inventory had come to the rescue again. The cutter charges they used for punching holes in the ice for their various probes and soundings had been perfect for cutting firing positions and foxholes, and even for digging the holes for the A-frame that had supported the International Gun.

Now the Manta was surrounded by twenty-four cutter charges pounded deep into the ice. Carver sent a command through the VR helmet. There was a sharp shock followed by a rippling shudder through the Manta’s deck, and something pinged off the outer hull. The compartment tilted suddenly as the sub’s balance shifted, and Jeff grabbed Carver’s seat back to stay on his feet.

Nothing more happened

“We’re not moving!” Wojak called, looking up at the overhead.

“Maybe we should all jump up and down,” BJ suggested.

“Steady,” Jeff said. He could hear the creak and pop of ice now, transmitted through the hull, could feel the sub’s position shifting.

Suddenly, the deck dropped from beneath his feet. He landed again with a thump, flexing his knees and clinging to Carver’s seatback as the Manta plunged through shattered blocks of ice and back into the much warmer embrace of the sea.

“I think we caught a few bad guys there,” Carver said, pulling on the sub’s control stick. “They were pretty close when the charges blew.”

“Just so we’re clear.”

They were sinking, nose high, but the MHD drive was spooling up with its shrill whine, and the helm began answering. They were under power once more.

“Manta Two is in the water,” Carver said, turning his helmeted head to stare at something to the left unseen by the rest of them. “They signal they’re under power. I think we made it, Major!”

“Yeah. We made it.” With the fighting over, he could feel the adrenaline rush that had kept him moving out there fading, could feel his knees growing weak, his heart pounding, exhaustion rising from inside like a black wave. “Get us the hell out of here!”

“Aye, aye, sir!”

In the sea once more, the eerie embrace of the Singer made itself known, a multi-harmonied ululation throbbing up from the depths. Siren’s song…

Kaminski was looking in a bad way again. The Singer. They still had that gauntlet left to run.

Connector Tunnel,

E-DARES Facility

Ice Station Zebra, Europa

0805 hours Zulu



“What d’ya think?” McCall asked. “Are they going to kick in the door?”

They were back in a full standard atmosphere now but had left their suits sealed against the possibility of another breach. The E-DARES facility was essentially a long connector tube with a stern-upper assembly at one end, a bow-lower complex at the other. The hatch leading down from the compartment designated as the Squad Bay led to an internal airlock—numerous locks were located throughout the structure, against the possibility of a pressure loss occurring in any area—and then to a shaft connecting the two ends of the structure. The shaft housed an elevator but included a vertical crawlway with rungs set into the side of the tube. The descent was made in a number of stages. What had been transverse bulkheads when the E-DARES was horizontal were now multiple decks when it was vertical. Locking themselves through, they’d climbed five meters down to the first tube deck and waited there now, eyes on the hatch overhead.

“Maybe they’ve given up,” Christie Dade suggested.

“Hardly seems likely, after what they’ve been through already,” Owenson said.

“Talk to us, Captain,” Pope called. “What are they doing?”

“They appear to have closed the outer lock, and are now repressurizing the Squad Bay from the emergency reserve tanks.”

“How many?” Doc McCall wanted to know.

“Can’t tell. The security cameras in there are out. I think they shot them up. Wait a second. Watch it. They’re starting to work at jiggering the hatch to the central corridor. They’ll be coming through pretty soon now.”

“We’re ready for ’em,” Lucky said. He lay down on the deck, behind the cover of a plastic storage crate, his rifle held out in the open, the crosshairs in his HUD centered on the locked hatch five meters above.



Chinese People’s Mobile

Strike Force

Asterias Linea, Europa

0810 hours Zulu



General Xiang stood in the midst of devastation. The attack had been so sudden, so completely unexpected, it was still hard to understand exactly what had happened. Four Descending Thunder landers were destroyed, including three of the new ones arriving with General Lin’s force from the newly arrived Xing Feng. Seventy-six men dead. Four zidong tanke vehicles, five APCs, two tractors, four hab modules holed and useless, six storage sheds…the list of destroyed and damaged equipment went on and on.