Cold War Read Online Free PDF Page A

Marine!” Furusawa ordered.
    Then Anderson’s head snapped up. He smiled, nodded, looked at each of the other marines in turn.
    Then he said “Yes, I give up,” put the pistol to the side of his head, and pulled the trigger.
    *   *   *
    They found Psi-Marine Bowen’s body just outside the cave entrance, a single plasma bolt wound on the back of his head. Anderson must have set his sidearm to silent and shot the Psi-Marine while he was watching the darkness outside.
    Now Bowen’s body lay next to Anderson’s on one side of the cave. First Sergeant Furusawa, Psi-Corporal Palladio, and Private Grec stood around the hole in the ice floor near the opposite wall.
    Grec had been right. Anderson had found something under the ice, where the heatsticks had begun to melt the cave floor.
    A body. A Fleet Marine, although his armor was black rather than the standard blue and olive and had no visible insignia. The corpse was only exposed from the shoulders to head, the rest of him still locked beneath the ice. He was one of the Spec Ops team, had to be.
    He wasn’t wearing his helmet. Instead, his bare head was crowned with a nest of what looked like melted metal, tangled strands of varying thickness webbed over his scalp, trailing down over most of his face. At random points, the metal strands poked into the marine’s skin, tiny spots of dark red leaking out around each entry point. It was hard to see under the ice, but it looked like there was more of the grey webbing wrapped around the rest of his body.
    It was Grec who broke the silence. “What the hell happened to him?”
    “The Spider got him,” said Furusawa.
    Grec raised an eyebrow. She gestured at the body. “What, and stored the body on ice?”
    “Wait…”
    Grec and Furusawa turned to Palladio. The Psi-Marine had his eyes closed. Without opening them, he began pointing to the floor.
    “There’re more. Four.” He opened his eyes, then knelt down and scraped at the floor. Here the ice was still frozen, but it was a little soft. Palladio managed to slough a few centimeters of frost off the surface, enough to see something else dark further below.
    Another body. The Spec Ops team was here, in the cave. Under their feet.
    Furusawa stood with her hands on her hips. “Can we get them out?”
    Palladio tapped his temple. “Wait, wait … they’re dead. But … it’s weird, I can sense their brain activity. There’s not much there, but there’s … something. I don’t understand it.”
    The sergeant pointed back at the partially uncovered body. “Looks like that webbing penetrates the skull. Could it be connected to the central nervous system?”
    Grec shook her head. “For what?”
    “That’s the question,” said Furusawa. She stood. “Can you operate the lightspeed transmitter, Private?”
    “Yes, Sergeant.”
    “Good. Set it up. It’s time to get a ride home.”
    *   *   *
    It was nearly dawn, the abyssal blackness beyond the cave mouth softening to a pale blue.
    “Try it again,” said Furusawa.
    Grec nodded with a sigh, and shifted her position on the ground next to the lightspeed transmitter. The device was a rectangular panel, fifteen centimeters thick, with a handle along one side. The front was studded with big, bulky switches and knobs, designed to be easily operable by the armored gauntlets worn by a marine out on the field. The transmitter was most commonly used as a beacon, bringing in an airstrike, or marking a target for an orbital attack. Or, in emergencies, calling for rescue. The transmitter was more powerful than the comms units built into their combat suits, which were dead anyway.
    Grec flicked a switch, opening the lightspeed link, and repeated the words she had spoken the first time around.
    “Blizzard SAR alpha-three-six-six-three to U-Star Hit and Run. Respond please.”
    She glanced up at the two marines standing over her, then held her breath. She knew what was coming next. She twisted the controls.
    The