Harry’s mind was made up.
He was too old for adventures. One way or another, this would be his last one. If he somehow managed to survive the long odds, then he would count his blessings and retire. Sure, he had said as much before, but he meant it this time.
The long march to that distant mountain was killing him. The damn thing just sat there: a huge hunk of rock that stretched off to his left with broken peaks clawing at the sky. They had been on the move for over an hour, and it never came any closer.
He was parched. The hot sun assaulted him without mercy, and the b****y cloaking suit did a fine job of trapping the heat; he was drenched in sweat from head to toe. His skin was starting to itch.
They had been forced to land about fifteen kilometres south of the Base. According to An
