Chapter 130: Contact
Two hundred fifty meters.
And falling.
Inside the command center of Atlas Base, nobody spoke.
Every pair of eyes remained fixed on the thermal display.
Thirty heat signatures.
Still advancing.
Still moving toward Tomas’s position.
The Predator’s infrared camera had zoomed in as much as possible, but the dense forest canopy made identification difficult.
The contacts appeared as bright orange silhouettes weaving through the trees.
They moved slowly.
Deliberately.
And worst of all, they weren’t making random sweeps.
They were following a line.
A path.
One that would lead them directly to the observation post.
Marcus stared at the screen.
His mind raced.
Two possibilities.
The first was coincidence.
The patrol simply happened to be heading toward the ridge.
The second possibility was much worse.
They had somehow detected the team.
He didn’t like either option.
"Tomas."
The radio immediately answered.
"Go ahead."
"Hold position."
A brief pause followed.
"You don’t want us to pull back?"
Marcus looked at the map.
The patrol was only two hundred fifty meters away.
If the team started moving now, they risked making noise.
If the enemy truly hadn’t detected them, then movement could expose them.
"No."
Marcus’s voice remained calm.
"Stay concealed."
"Copy."
The radio clicked.
Silence returned.
Inside the forest, Tomas slowly lowered his radio.
The six men remained hidden beneath camouflage nets and branches.
Nobody moved.
Nobody even adjusted their positions.
The observation post had been carefully prepared.
Their uniforms blended into the forest floor.
Their rifles remained hidden beneath foliage.
Even their exposed skin had been covered with camouflage paint.
Under normal circumstances, they should be invisible.
Should.
Unfortunately, tonight didn’t feel normal.
Tomas slowly raised his binoculars again.
Nothing.
The darkness swallowed everything.
Then he switched to thermal mode.
Immediately, thirty glowing figures appeared among the trees.
The nearest one had stopped.
The figure remained completely motionless.
It wasn’t looking toward the settlement.
It wasn’t looking around randomly.
It was staring directly toward the ridge.
Toward them.
The hairs on the back of Tomas’s neck stood up.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Beside him, Rolf whispered.
"Tell me they don’t know we’re here."
Tomas didn’t answer.
Because he honestly didn’t know.
The contact remained still.
Then another stopped beside it.
Then another.
The entire patrol halted.
One hundred voices in his head screamed danger.
Yet the forest remained silent.
Not even the wind moved.
Rolf slowly swallowed.
"I really miss bandits."
Nobody laughed.
Because for the first time since entering the forest, every member of the team felt it.
The sensation of being watched.
Then movement.
One of the glowing figures stepped forward.
The Predator operator immediately spoke.
"Contact moving."
Marcus leaned forward.
The figure advanced.
Then another.
Then another.
Three hostiles separated themselves from the group.
The rest remained behind.
The three figures moved carefully.
Slowly.
Like scouts.
The distance continued shrinking.
Two hundred thirty meters.
Two hundred twenty.
Two hundred.
Marcus looked toward another monitor.
The observation post marker sat directly in the scouts’ path.
"Shit."
Elaina looked toward him.
"They know."
Marcus nodded slowly.
"I think they do."
The command center became quiet.
Because if the hidden civilization possessed tracking capabilities sophisticated enough to find a concealed reconnaissance team, then the situation had become significantly more dangerous.
One of the analysts suddenly looked up.
"Marcus."
"What?"
"The patrol pattern."
The analyst pointed toward the display.
Marcus looked.
Then frowned.
The remaining twenty-seven hostiles had spread out.
Not randomly.
They were establishing positions.
Flanking positions.
His eyes widened slightly.
Because he had seen this before.
Military formations.
Not perfect.
Not professional.
But recognizable.
The scouts moved forward while the others spread out to cover escape routes.
A search line.
A containment line.
Whoever commanded these creatures understood tactics.
Primitive tactics.
But tactics nonetheless.
Marcus immediately grabbed the radio.
"Tomas."
"Go."
"They’re setting up a cordon."
Silence.
Then:
"...You’re kidding."
"I wish I was."
The response didn’t come immediately.
When it did, Tomas sounded significantly less calm.
"That’s impossible."
Marcus didn’t answer.
Because he had thought the same thing.
Yet the thermal feed didn’t lie.
The creatures were surrounding the ridge.
Slowly.
Patiently.
Like hunters.
The distance dropped again.
One hundred eighty meters.
One hundred seventy.
One hundred sixty.
Inside the observation post, every Atlas soldier tightened their grip on their rifles.
M4 Carbines.
Thirty-round magazines.
Night optics.
Modern weapons.
Against enemies they still barely understood.
The situation had changed completely.
This was no longer simple reconnaissance.
This was potential contact.
The first direct contact between Atlas and the hidden civilization.
Rolf slowly exhaled.
"I have a really bad feeling."
Tomas looked at him.
"When do you ever have a good feeling?"
"Fair point."
Then—
Crack.
Every man froze.
The sound had come from somewhere to their right.
A branch.
Snapping.
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
Then another sound.
A low growl.
Very low.
Very deep.
The radio exploded to life.
"Thermal contact! Thermal contact!"
The Predator operator’s voice was sharp.
Panicked.
Marcus immediately stood.
"What happened?"
"New signatures!"
The display changed.
Then everyone inside the command center froze.
Because the original thirty contacts weren’t alone.
At all.
Large heat signatures began appearing around the ridge.
One.
Three.
Five.
Ten.
Then more.
Dozens.
They emerged from the forest like ghosts.
Completely invisible to the observation team until now.
Marcus felt his stomach drop.
Because they weren’t moving toward the ridge.
They were already around it.
The command center suddenly erupted into activity.
Operators counted.
Analysts shouted.
Maps updated.
The numbers kept increasing.
Forty.
Fifty.
Sixty.
Then seventy.
The ridge was being surrounded.
Not by thirty hostiles.
By nearly a hundred.
Tomas’s radio crackled.
"Raven One, you’re surrounded!"
Silence.
Then:
"...Repeat?"
Marcus grabbed the microphone.
"You’re surrounded. Approximately ninety contacts."
Nobody on the ridge spoke.
Because ninety?
That wasn’t a patrol.
That was a company-sized force.
And somehow, they had approached without making a sound.
Then the growl came again.
Closer this time.
Much closer.
Rolf slowly turned his head.
His night vision goggles swept across the trees.
Nothing.
Then—
A shape moved.
Huge.
Fast.
His eyes widened.
"Movement!"
Every rifle immediately swung toward the tree line.
For one brief second, nobody saw anything.
Then a pair of glowing eyes appeared between the trees.
Yellow.
Reflective.
Watching.
The figure stepped forward.
And every Atlas soldier froze.
Because it wasn’t one of the humanoid creatures from the settlement.
This thing moved on four legs.
Its body resembled a wolf.
But impossibly large.
Its shoulders stood nearly as high as a man’s chest.
Dark fur covered its body.
Its head looked elongated.
Predatory.
Its teeth reflected faintly beneath the moonlight.
Then another appeared.
And another.
And another.
At least fifteen of them emerged from the darkness.
Rolf stared.
"...Nope."
Nobody disagreed.
The giant wolves spread out around the ridge.
Silent.
Watching.
Waiting.
And behind them, the humanoid heat signatures continued closing in.
The realization hit Tomas immediately.
The patrols hadn’t tracked them.
The wolves had.
Scent.
Of course.
They were using tracking beasts.
Like hunting dogs.
Except these hunting dogs weighed several hundred kilograms and looked capable of eating people.
Tomas slowly keyed his radio.
"Marcus."
"Go ahead."
A pause followed.
Then:
"I think we’ve just met their reconnaissance units."
The command center became silent.
Because everyone understood what that meant.
The hidden civilization didn’t just have patrols.
They had scouts.
Trackers.
Working animals.
Military organization.
The implications were terrifying.
Then one of the wolves suddenly lifted its head.
It sniffed the air.
Its yellow eyes locked directly onto Tomas.
The creature bared its teeth.
A low growl escaped its throat.
And for the first time since entering the forest, Tomas knew one thing with absolute certainty.
Their observation post had been found.
The first contact between Atlas and the hidden civilization was no longer a possibility.
It was happening.
Right now.
And somewhere below, hidden beneath the forest canopy, nearly a hundred unknown hostiles were preparing to see exactly who had been watching them.
Add this at the end:
Inside the command center, Marcus made his decision.
Fast.
Clean.
No hesitation.
"Prepare extraction."
Elaina looked toward him.
"Black Hawk?"
"Yes."
Marcus turned toward the radio operators.
"Launch standby rescue bird. Full crew. Door gunners armed. Keep distance until I give the order."
"Yes, sir!"
The command center exploded into controlled movement.
Outside Atlas Base, alarms rang across the landing zone. Mechanics ran toward the ready helicopter while pilots rushed from the standby room. Weapons crews checked the M134 miniguns mounted at the side doors. Ammunition belts were locked into place. Fuel levels confirmed.
Within minutes, the Black Hawk began powering up.
Meanwhile, in the forest, Tomas kept his rifle trained on the nearest wolf.
The creature was no longer simply watching.
It was lowering its body.
Preparing.
Beside him, Rolf whispered:
"Please tell me we don’t have to fight those things quietly."
Tomas didn’t answer.
Because the answer was obvious.
If the wolves attacked, silence no longer mattered.
One of the humanoid figures finally stepped into view behind the beasts.
Tall.
Broad.
Covered in hides and bone plates.
It raised one hand.
The wolves stopped growling.
All at once.
That single motion confirmed everything.
Control.
Command.
Discipline.
Tomas felt his blood run cold.
These weren’t animals acting on instinct.
They were weapons being directed.
The humanoid stared toward the ridge, then slowly pointed.
Straight at the observation post.
Tomas keyed his radio.
"Marcus."
"I’m listening."
"They know exactly where we are."
A pause.
Then Marcus’s voice came through, cold and steady.
"Then don’t let them take you alive."
The nearest wolf lunged.
