couldn’t understand how the Marines came to be floating in the pool.
Then he looked up. His hope fizzled like a misstruck match.
Embedded in the ceiling was a US Marine Corps Pave Hawk helicopter.
He recognized the helicopter’s designation. It was their mission’s first deployment Pave Hawk, the same helicopter the weapons inspectors were supposed to be waiting in for the all clear. Bewildered by the totally unexpected sight, Coleman groped for an explanation. He scanned the pool room. Somehow, at least half of First Unit managed to reach the helicopter waiting up on the plug. The helicopter had taken off, and then somehow flipped over in-flight and crashed into the pool room’s transparent ceiling.
The pool room itself measured only slightly larger than the pool, and its ceiling framed a huge plexiglass skylight. The helicopter’s impact smashed throughthe skylight, and now the entire top half of the aircraft hung precariously suspended above the pool.
Sparks rained from the wreckage and fizzed out on the pool’s surface.
Despondently, Coleman judged it unlikely anyone survived the wreck. Three Marines in the pool still occupied their seats. The buoyant seats suspended their bodies upside-down in the water. A lone body wearing ill-fitting fatigues floated nearby. The person’s frame looked too small for a member of First Unit. The corpse had long blond hair.
She was the pretty inspector sitting opposite me.
Coleman experienced a moment of intense regret as he groped for her name. They had been introduced very quickly.
Conway. Her name was Lisa Conway.
Coleman directed his flashlight into the Pave Hawk. More suspended corpses occupied the wreckage. One dangled in the Pave Hawk’s winch-cable. The body hung midair below the helicopter’s fuselage.
King and Marlin shone their torches in the pool. Their lights probed the blood-stained water and found the helicopter’s tail rotor twisted and buckled on the bottom. The massive shadow of the Pave Hawk blotted most the light entering the room.
Marlin’s torchlight settled on the submerged hand of a Marine. The man wore a wedding band.
The entire scene made Coleman feel strangely surreal and disengaged. He felt the shock of their situation catching up. Adrenaline and terror buffered them through the non-stop mayhem up to this point, but now their minds and emotions demanded a reckoning.
King looked glassy-eyed around the carnage. Weariness dominated his usually animated face. Slowly, he directed his light back up to the fuselage and the dangling inspector.
Something zipped through his torchlight. He flicked his wrist and tracked the tiny object with the light.
‘More butterflies,’ observed Forest.
About a dozen more butterflies clung upside down from the fuselage. A few struggled on the pool’s surface.
King stopped tracking the insect and returned his light to the suspended fuselage.
‘How did First Unit end up here?’ His voice was a somber rumble.
Coleman saw no evidence of surface-to-air weapon damage on the helicopter’s fuselage. A stinger missile left a big mark on a helicopter. He crossed to where a body bumped against the poolside. Kneeling, he rolled the body over, discovering massive flesh trauma lacerating the man’s face and arms. King shone his flashlight over the wounds. All the lesions occurred on the front of the body. They were extreme versions of the wounds Coleman had earlier observed on the man being dragged behind the creature.
He released the
Then he looked up. His hope fizzled like a misstruck match.
Embedded in the ceiling was a US Marine Corps Pave Hawk helicopter.
He recognized the helicopter’s designation. It was their mission’s first deployment Pave Hawk, the same helicopter the weapons inspectors were supposed to be waiting in for the all clear. Bewildered by the totally unexpected sight, Coleman groped for an explanation. He scanned the pool room. Somehow, at least half of First Unit managed to reach the helicopter waiting up on the plug. The helicopter had taken off, and then somehow flipped over in-flight and crashed into the pool room’s transparent ceiling.
The pool room itself measured only slightly larger than the pool, and its ceiling framed a huge plexiglass skylight. The helicopter’s impact smashed throughthe skylight, and now the entire top half of the aircraft hung precariously suspended above the pool.
Sparks rained from the wreckage and fizzed out on the pool’s surface.
Despondently, Coleman judged it unlikely anyone survived the wreck. Three Marines in the pool still occupied their seats. The buoyant seats suspended their bodies upside-down in the water. A lone body wearing ill-fitting fatigues floated nearby. The person’s frame looked too small for a member of First Unit. The corpse had long blond hair.
She was the pretty inspector sitting opposite me.
Coleman experienced a moment of intense regret as he groped for her name. They had been introduced very quickly.
Conway. Her name was Lisa Conway.
Coleman directed his flashlight into the Pave Hawk. More suspended corpses occupied the wreckage. One dangled in the Pave Hawk’s winch-cable. The body hung midair below the helicopter’s fuselage.
King and Marlin shone their torches in the pool. Their lights probed the blood-stained water and found the helicopter’s tail rotor twisted and buckled on the bottom. The massive shadow of the Pave Hawk blotted most the light entering the room.
Marlin’s torchlight settled on the submerged hand of a Marine. The man wore a wedding band.
The entire scene made Coleman feel strangely surreal and disengaged. He felt the shock of their situation catching up. Adrenaline and terror buffered them through the non-stop mayhem up to this point, but now their minds and emotions demanded a reckoning.
King looked glassy-eyed around the carnage. Weariness dominated his usually animated face. Slowly, he directed his light back up to the fuselage and the dangling inspector.
Something zipped through his torchlight. He flicked his wrist and tracked the tiny object with the light.
‘More butterflies,’ observed Forest.
About a dozen more butterflies clung upside down from the fuselage. A few struggled on the pool’s surface.
King stopped tracking the insect and returned his light to the suspended fuselage.
‘How did First Unit end up here?’ His voice was a somber rumble.
Coleman saw no evidence of surface-to-air weapon damage on the helicopter’s fuselage. A stinger missile left a big mark on a helicopter. He crossed to where a body bumped against the poolside. Kneeling, he rolled the body over, discovering massive flesh trauma lacerating the man’s face and arms. King shone his flashlight over the wounds. All the lesions occurred on the front of the body. They were extreme versions of the wounds Coleman had earlier observed on the man being dragged behind the creature.
He released the
Similar Books
