Chapter 15
General Hammond stood in the control room as the shimmering light from the Stargate bounced around the walls, fighting down the urge to pace. It was times like these when being in command of the home base really stunk.
"We've made a thorough search of the forest, sir," Major Griff's voice answered the General's hail. "There's no sign of them, or any other life for that matter, just as the U.A.V. showed."
"Are you positive, Major?"
"There's no way we could have missed them, sir. There's still no sign of their tracks. We combed the land within a five mile radius of the gate and still found nothing."
"Very well. Return to base." George turned to Sergeant Harriman at the controls. "Shut it down."
The puddle flickered and died. George returned to his office and closed the door. He sat down in his nice, comfortable leather chair, but it didn't feel so comfortable these days. In fact it felt more like sitting on a porcupine, and he wanted nothing more than to get out and do something. For six days now his front line team had been missing. There was no sign of them. It was as if they had just vanished.
His military gut was writhing, gnawing at him. Something had gone wrong, he could sense it, but without any clues he had nothing to go on. As much as he wanted to keep a team on the planet to continue looking, he knew the Pentagon would not put up with it for much longer without a clear reason for keeping them there.
George looked down at the bottom drawer of his desk. It was the bottom one because it was the one filled with the things he dreaded most: MIA forms and forms sent to the next of kin.
He looked, but he did not touch.
Not yet. There's no way in hell I'm giving up yet.