The Savage Horde

Chapter 30

The landing party had not returned. Rourke, Cole, Gundersen, Lieutenant O'Neal and Paul Rubenstein stood in the sail, watching the dark shore. There was no moonlight, the sky overcast still and the incredibly large flakes of snow still falling, but the temperature still almost warm.

Rourke glanced at the luminous black face of the Rolex on his left wrist, cupping his right hand over it to make the darkness deep enough that the numerals would glow.

"They've been gone for eight hours—supposed to be back two hours ago. If they were my men, Captain Cole, I think I might go looking for them."

"Yeah—well—"

"Yeah—well," Rourke mimicked. He shifted his shoulder under the bomber jacket, the familiar weight of the Detonics pistols there in the double Alessi rig something he was glad to have back again. The Sparks Six Pack rode his trouser belt, the magazines freshly loaded and the ammo from each all hand cycled through his pistols to assure the magazines functioned properly—they did. These six magazines plus the magazines he normally carried, vastly increased his ready firepower. Rubenstein stood beside him, the Browning coming into his hands. He hand cycled the slide, chambering a round off the top of the magazine, then made the mm pistol disappear under his Army field jacket.

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"Ready when you are, John," Paul smiled.

"Captain—" It was Lieutenant O'Neal, the missile officer. "Sir, I can get together part of that shore party right now—"

Rourke interrupted him. "Belay that—that's what you say in the Navy, isn't it?"

O'Neal's normally red cheeks flushed as he laughed. "That's right, sir."

"I've got a better idea, I think—if Commander Gundersen approves," Rourke added.

"Cole, Paul, myself—those three other troopers of Captain Cole's—we go in now.

Hit the beach in a rubber boat if you got one, then get up into those rocks. If that recon patrol Hendersen led got nailed, it was probably pretty soon after they hit shore. You save that landing party if we're not back by dawn—and have 'em ready in case we come back sooner with somebody chasing us."

"That sounds good to me," Gundersen nodded. "Captain Cole?" Gundersen raised his eyebrows, as if waiting for Cole to respond.

"No other choice, I guess," Cole nodded.

'Til get the rest of the gear," Rubenstein said, disappearing toward the hatchway leading down from the sail.

"And with your permission, sir," O'Neal volunteered to Gundersen. "I'll get that inflatable geared up."

"You got it," Gundersen nodded.

Rourke stared past Gundersen—the shore was a darker gray line against the near blackness of the water, and in the distance above the rocks which marked the coast was a lighter gray—it was the sky. The water in the inlet was calm—the deck on the sail almost motionless under him.

There were people in the darkness—and Rourke didn't doubt that someone of them at least was watching him from the rocks.

As it always was—despite the elements, the forces of nature—the true danger was man.