Extinction Edge by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

Author:Nicholas Sansbury Smith [Smith, Nicholas Sansbury]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Horror, Sci-Fi, War & Military
Published: 2015-03-02T08:00:00+00:00

A dense fog crawled across Plum Island. Beckham stood outside the medical facility with Kate by his side, watching the haze slowly consume the base. The horizon threatened yet another storm.

Beckham acknowledged the two guards outside with a nod. Grabbing the handrails, he made his way cautiously down the steps and into the knee-deep mist. He squinted at three soldiers approaching in the distance. They walked at a brisk yet graceful pace, side by side, the muzzles of their rifles bobbing up and down over their shoulders. As they got closer, he saw the thin outline of their body armor and sculpted muscles that reflected constant training.

“Who are they?” Kate asked.

Beckham smiled. “My men.”

Even in the fog, he knew the slender, defined frame of the man on the left belonged to Chow, and that the beefy man in the middle was Horn. The man on the right had to be Jinx.

The three emerged from the gray and formed a line, shoulder to shoulder. Horn stepped out and saluted. “Sir.”

Beckham wasn’t sure how to respond. The gesture was completely unexpected from Horn, not to mention unnecessary. Beckham recalled Riley’s laughter from earlier and figured a little humor might do them all some good. Snapping his heels together, he returned the salute then dropped his hand quickly.

“All right, knock it off now,” Beckham said.

Horn laughed and held out a fist. “Good to see you standing.”

“Luck,” Beckham said, bumping his knuckles against Horn’s. “I think mine’s got to run out soon.”

“Horn saved your sorry ass,” Jinx said.

Beckham looked at the men in turn, remembering all of their fallen brothers; then he reached forward and wrapped his arms around Horn, patting his back before pulling away. “Thanks again, bro.” He leaned forward and put his forehead against his friend’s.

“I always got your back,” Horn said gruffly.

Chow snapped his fingers. “We better get moving. Briefing in a few.”

The operators walked in silence through the fog. The CIC was packed by the time they arrived. Officers and enlisted huddled around the war table, staring at crinkled maps. Lieutenant Colonel Jensen stepped away from the observation window and made his way through the swollen crowd.

“Let’s get started,” he said and paused, scanning the assembled men and women.

He addressed a tall and slender Marine with the build of a marathoner. “Sergeant Peters, you’ve got Team Alpha.” The man nodded and made eye contact with his nearby team.

The next Marine Jensen called looked more like a linebacker, with broad shoulders. “Sergeant Rodriguez, you’ve got Bravo.” He scrutinized the stern faces, as if looking for someone in particular. “Where’s Chipper?” Jensen asked.

“Here, sir,” a short Army Ranger said. He pushed his way from the edge of the group.

“You’ve got Team Charlie.”

The man nodded and swept a hand over his bald head.

Then Jensen’s eyes found Beckham. “Master Sergeant, you have Team Delta.”

He turned to his second and said, “All right, everyone. Major Smith will provide a SITREP.”

Smith bent over the table and flattened several maps. Grabbing a remote, he clicked on an overhead projector.

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