low air pressure you could reach double that velocity. Hit the ground at those speeds and they’d be collecting you with a mop and bucket.
‘The new suits you’ll be using with the visors down will give you adequate environmental protection and we can rig in disposable oxygen,’ Hammerson said. ‘Drop will take around three minutes, two minutes of which are going to be pretty unpleasant, doubly so for our Israeli contingent.’ Hammerson pulled a more detailed map and photographs out of the pile on his desk.
‘Israelis? New suits?’ Alex knitted his brows.
‘Some regional collaboration – we’ll get to that. Infiltration will be approximately one mile south of the Persepolis ruins. Extraction point to be determined by you. We’ll have a surface-skimming gunship ready; by then we won’t care if anyone hears or sees us.’
Alex studied the map of Iran and the photographs of the Marv Dasht basin spread out before him – nearly 650,000 square miles of dry desert, mountains and age-old hostility. ‘Surveillance?’ he asked. Getting captured in Iran as a spy wouldn’t make for a very pleasant few days – torture and execution would ruin a good holiday every time.
‘Nothing electronic, but you can bet there’ll be a few lenses pointed skyward. The B2 will be well above that for your drop, and your suits won’t show up on the way down. On the ground . . . maybe.’
Alex nodded. ‘We can deal with anything on the ground.’ He paused for a moment then said, ‘We don’t need help. They’ll just slow us down.’
‘This time you might. The complex technology and hostile environment means we’ll need specialists – in astrophysics, languages and logistics.’
Alex shook his head. ‘I’ve got Sam Reid, he knows plenty about nuclear fission and the technology. And you’re telling me you want me take a language specialist? I don’t expect to be doing much talking.’
‘I know, I know, and one or both of them will probably be a Mossad torpedo. But we need to work with the Israelis on this – the last thing we want is them making a strike on Iran. Consider it a small price for being able to use their bases and resources. Besides, we think the situation may be more complex than just some sort of test burst. The Israelis have more eyes and ears in Iran than we’ll ever have. My gut feeling is you may need them. There’ll be a further briefing on the ground in Israel.’
‘Two of them, five of us. If they fall behind, they stay behind.’
‘Okay, then. Best case: seven in, seven out. But it’ll be your call on how you execute your mission objectives. Now, let’s see what we’ve got to cover your back, soldier.’
Hammerson moved the map and photos aside and turned his computer sideways so they could both see the screen. He was already logged on to the USSTRATCOM intranet, the internal secure website for the strategic command’s senior officers. The first page he opened was for research and development, where he selected ‘defensive weaponry’, then ‘arid environment body armour’.
Alex whistled. The screen showed what looked like a sand-coloured robot. The new dry-zone combat suit combined a total-cover uniform with a synthetic material base and armour plates covering the chest area, back and shoulders. Over the neck, stomach, knees and elbows it was armadillo-segmented for maximum mobility. The facial area was open, but a high-tech helmet covered the head and travelled down the side of the face to halfway along the chin. A visor could be pulled out and down from the brow brim.
‘Got to be lightweight,’ Alex said. ‘Is the plating a polymer structure?’
‘Nope, not even close. Benefit of being in the HAWCs – we get all the experimental stuff from the labs. What you see there is the result of millions of dollars of research and a lot of free education from Operation Desert Shield. In a dry environment it’ll be your new best friend; this suit material is thermally created using
‘The new suits you’ll be using with the visors down will give you adequate environmental protection and we can rig in disposable oxygen,’ Hammerson said. ‘Drop will take around three minutes, two minutes of which are going to be pretty unpleasant, doubly so for our Israeli contingent.’ Hammerson pulled a more detailed map and photographs out of the pile on his desk.
‘Israelis? New suits?’ Alex knitted his brows.
‘Some regional collaboration – we’ll get to that. Infiltration will be approximately one mile south of the Persepolis ruins. Extraction point to be determined by you. We’ll have a surface-skimming gunship ready; by then we won’t care if anyone hears or sees us.’
Alex studied the map of Iran and the photographs of the Marv Dasht basin spread out before him – nearly 650,000 square miles of dry desert, mountains and age-old hostility. ‘Surveillance?’ he asked. Getting captured in Iran as a spy wouldn’t make for a very pleasant few days – torture and execution would ruin a good holiday every time.
‘Nothing electronic, but you can bet there’ll be a few lenses pointed skyward. The B2 will be well above that for your drop, and your suits won’t show up on the way down. On the ground . . . maybe.’
Alex nodded. ‘We can deal with anything on the ground.’ He paused for a moment then said, ‘We don’t need help. They’ll just slow us down.’
‘This time you might. The complex technology and hostile environment means we’ll need specialists – in astrophysics, languages and logistics.’
Alex shook his head. ‘I’ve got Sam Reid, he knows plenty about nuclear fission and the technology. And you’re telling me you want me take a language specialist? I don’t expect to be doing much talking.’
‘I know, I know, and one or both of them will probably be a Mossad torpedo. But we need to work with the Israelis on this – the last thing we want is them making a strike on Iran. Consider it a small price for being able to use their bases and resources. Besides, we think the situation may be more complex than just some sort of test burst. The Israelis have more eyes and ears in Iran than we’ll ever have. My gut feeling is you may need them. There’ll be a further briefing on the ground in Israel.’
‘Two of them, five of us. If they fall behind, they stay behind.’
‘Okay, then. Best case: seven in, seven out. But it’ll be your call on how you execute your mission objectives. Now, let’s see what we’ve got to cover your back, soldier.’
Hammerson moved the map and photos aside and turned his computer sideways so they could both see the screen. He was already logged on to the USSTRATCOM intranet, the internal secure website for the strategic command’s senior officers. The first page he opened was for research and development, where he selected ‘defensive weaponry’, then ‘arid environment body armour’.
Alex whistled. The screen showed what looked like a sand-coloured robot. The new dry-zone combat suit combined a total-cover uniform with a synthetic material base and armour plates covering the chest area, back and shoulders. Over the neck, stomach, knees and elbows it was armadillo-segmented for maximum mobility. The facial area was open, but a high-tech helmet covered the head and travelled down the side of the face to halfway along the chin. A visor could be pulled out and down from the brow brim.
‘Got to be lightweight,’ Alex said. ‘Is the plating a polymer structure?’
‘Nope, not even close. Benefit of being in the HAWCs – we get all the experimental stuff from the labs. What you see there is the result of millions of dollars of research and a lot of free education from Operation Desert Shield. In a dry environment it’ll be your new best friend; this suit material is thermally created using
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