One flew directly above the HERC. Mazer craned his neck to watch it pass. It was silent, he realized. They all were silent. No engine noise. No rotors. No sound whatsoever. Like ghosts.
Gunfire erupted from one of the Chinese aircraft to Mazer's right--an arc of tracer fire that twisted, readjusted, then found its mark. One of the larger retreating alien aircraft took the fire. Bullets pinged off the hull in a shower of sparks, knocking the aircraft out of its flight path and sending it spinning toward the ground. It hit the surface then bounced up momentarily, spinning end over end, reeling, completely out of control. Then it landed again and slid to a stop, leaving a trench behind it where it had dug into the earth.
At once, as if moving as one, seven alien aircraft changed course and descended on the Chinese helicopter that had fired. The Chinese gunner rotated and spewed his tracer fire upward at his attackers, but the aliens maneuvered swiftly to avoid it, juking right and left. Then they opened their own guns: brief bursts of laserized material hit the Chinese aircraft from all sides at once. The helicopter twisted and ripped apart like a crushed can, sending debris and shrapnel and fire in every direction. The burning heap plunged to the ground and slammed onto a hillside, where gravity continued to pull it downward. It rolled end over end and crashed into a tree, scattering ashes and more debris.
"Get us to the ground!" Mazer shouted. "Now!"
Reinhardt slammed the stick to the side, turning them away, dropping them fast.
Ahead of them, the downed alien aircraft smoldered in the grass.
Mazer pointed. "There! Put us down by their wrecked aircraft!"
Reinhardt shot Mazer a look. "You want me to land near that thing?"
"Do it!" shouted Mazer.
Reinhardt obeyed, cutting right and setting them down close to the wreckage. Mazer hopped out, and looked up, unholstering his sidearm and aiming above him. A weapon that small would do nothing against a big aircraft, but it felt better in his hand. The alien crafts that were behind them pushed on, ignoring them, soaring overhead, heading north.
Mazer watched them go and exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. There was a brief explosion of gunfire to the south, and he spun around in that direction. He saw nothing; the mountain south of his position blocked his view of the lander and other aircraft. He listened. After a brief silence, more gunfire, followed by a deep explosion--a ripping, booming sound that seemed to echo off the sky. Metal twisting, engines dying, the brief clatter of loosed parts colliding in the air and tinkling downward like a burning wind chime.
Mazer looked east and west. There were alien crafts heading in both directions, some moving fast, others proceeding slowly as if patrolling or scanning the ground below them. None of them was dangerously close or seemed to be paying him any attention. The frantic chatter on the radio continued, although now there was clearly less of it. Mazer strained to make it out, but the shouting was fast and frantic and all in Chinese, with only bits and pieces coming through, all jumbled on top of each other.
Another explosion boomed from the south.
The radio chatter went silent. A dull static took its place.
Mazer stood there a moment, listening, willing more voices to return to the frequency and check in. None did. He slowly did a 360, taking in the landscape, searching the sky for Chinese aircraft, seeing none.
He spoke into his comlink. "Red Dragon, this is Captain Mazer Rackham, do you read, over?"
No response.
"Red Dragon, do you copy?"
Nothing.
Mazer turned to his left. The downed alien aircraft lay on its side twenty meters away. Mazer had expected it to be a bent and twisted wreck bearing little resemblance to its original shape. But the aircraft appeared intact and undamaged, as if constructed by some impenetrable material. The only sign of duress was a thin line of smoke slowly seeping from a vent in the back.
He turned to Reinhardt. "Keep the HERC running. Be ready to take off in an instant. Fatani, Patu, helmetcams on, weapons up. Record everything. Reinhardt, watch the skies. Warn us if anything comes our direction."
Mazer cautiously moved toward the downed aircraft, his weapon up, safety off, finger by the trigger, ready.
"You sure about this, Mazer?" said Reinhardt. "We don't know what that thing is or what it's capable of."
"Nor does anyone else," said Mazer, "which is exactly why we have to find out."
Cautiously he stepped forward. Patu appeared at his side, her assault rifle up to one shoulder, ready to fire. Fatani came around the HERC and joined then, his sidearm in hand, aiming forward.
All of them wore their helmets, recording the scene.
"Spread out," said Mazer.
They parted, Mazer going to the left, Fatani going wide to the right, Patu continuing forward.
"Are we broadcasting, Patu?" asked Mazer.
"All three feeds are live."