Peng hoped the little his unit had achieved was enough to placate the higher authorities, but he was not optimistic. Besides their dead, they had left the machine guns and the RPG launchers to lighten their loads. The Russian weapons were a meaningless subterfuge because the dead could hardly be mistaken for Russians. The political fallout would be far above his grade, but he accepted whatever came as necessary to protect the Party and the people.
CHAPTER 42
SURVIVORS
Zach had no direct contact with Logan or Houdini on their separate communication band. He knew Willie was alive and guarding Level 3, but what about elsewhere? He could tell that many people were alive, as he listened to multiple overlaid voices and conversations on the site communication link that continued working off and on. It took him only seconds to recognize that little useful information was being passed within the clamor.
He activated his microphone. “Everyone, shut up!” It took three repeats to quiet most of the voices. “This is Zach Marjek. Anybody inside the main building? What’s happening?”
After he’d shouted for silence, no one immediately responded. Seconds passed.
“This is Huxler. There’s been no shooting for several minutes. I heard someone call out that the Chinese were leaving, but I don’t know if that’s true or not.”
“Montero here,” came another voice. “It took me a second to reconnect my microphone. I was a little busy before. Huxler’s right. The Chinese are pulling out. I checked the main door facing south and could see them moving fast already maybe a third or more of a mile away.”
“Are you sure they’ve all pulled out?” asked Andrew, breaking into the radio net.
“Hell, no!” said Montero. “The insides here are a shambles. Furniture and pieces of whatever were scattered everywhere when people threw together defensive positions using anything handy. There’s also smoke that’s only starting to clear. I think the last of the fires is out, but I’m not sure. What I do know is we’ve got wounded, and there’s lots of bodies around. Ours and theirs.”
“Okay, listen up,” said Zach. “Care for the wounded, but we have to check every inch of the buildings to be sure no Chinese are still hanging around. They could be wounded, which is why they didn’t leave with the others. They could also be men deliberately left behind to continue creating enough chaos to give the others a better chance to escape.”
“Zach’s right,” said Andrew. “We need to start off with a thorough search of the main building. Montero . . . grab whoever is armed and still mobile and start sweeping rooms in the northeast corner.”
“But that will leave people helping the wounded without protection,” protested Montero.
“Then be fast!” said Andrew. “Won’t do anyone any good if a Chinese pops up and starts throwing grenades or shooting. There’s three of us still mobile here on the east side. I’ll grab Whitey, and we’ll go to the main door and start a counterclockwise sweep of the building. When we meet up, Montero, we’ll continue moving west.”
“I’m outside the building right now,” said Zach. “I can keep an eye on the hole blasted in the west wall while I check around for Chinese. If that looks okay, I’ll enter through the breach and search rooms until we meet.”
“All right,” said Andrew. “Let’s do it and fast as we can, so we can turn full attention to the wounded.”
Zach walked to the dozer blade that he, Swackhammer, and Hindman had first used as cover during the start of the attack. He picked up the binoculars he had dropped when the shooting started and scanned south, adjusting the focus. He thought he saw three or four figures at the crest in the terrain a mile away. When he moved the binoculars back to the same spot, he briefly saw two upper torsos before they dropped out of sight.
He breathed easier, accepting the reports that the attack was over. However, they still needed to check for any Chinese unaccounted for. When he approached the breach, he was surprised to find the rec building’s door blasted open and a mangled body wearing a Russian uniform lying nearby.
Damn, he thought. I forgot about the grenade I rigged the door with. Good thing one of the Chinese got a fatal surprise, instead of me or someone else. He shook his head in disgust at his lapse in disarming the booby trap.
He went to the six-foot-wide breach in the main building’s west wall. At the gap, he hesitated. There was something else he urgently wanted to do with every fiber of his being. Yet as hard as it was, he knew confirming the site’s security was the highest priority.
He entered the breach and carefully avoided the ragged edges of the double-layered armored walls. Debris crunched under his feet—there was no way for him to be silent. He recognized the first body as Lindskold’s, the site manager. Twenty yards farther lay the body of Julio Juarez, a Level 1 electronics technician. The shotgun that lay nearby had evidently been used because a dead attacker lay fifteen feet away, his throat and head hit by multiple shotgun pellets.
Well, at least you got one of them first, thought Zach, giving a silent nod in honor to the dead.
He started searching to his right. The first room appeared untouched, as if nothing had happened. The door to the second room had half a dozen bullet holes in it. Zach stood to one side and shoved the door open. Nothing happened.
“Zach? Is that you? It’s Swackhammer. I heard you say you were coming in. I’m nearby, so I thought I’d meet you, and we can search together. Grace Schultz is with me.”
“Come toward my voice,” said Zach. “Sounds like you’re almost right on top of me.”
“It’s the damn smoke,” said a woman’s voice. “Besides the fires that got started, I think those people set off smoke grenades. At least, it’s not as bad as even a few minutes ago.”
With the last words, Zach made out two forms through the smoke. A few more steps and he recognized Swackhammer. Schulz carried a shotgun.
“We’re not hearing anything from Jefferson and Montero,” said Zach. “Hopefully, that means they haven’t run into any problems. Let’s move quickly but carefully.”
Three minutes later, they met up with Andrew, Montero, and Whitey.
“Where’s Willie?” asked Zach.
“He’s helping with the wounded,” answered Andrew.
Eight minutes later, they finished the sweep. They found one live attacker, severely wounded, who missed being dispatched by his comrades. They carried him to where the wounded were being attended to.
Zach stood and surveyed the galley scene. Several covered bodies lay against one wall. He didn’t count. Wounded were lying on the floor or on tables pushed together and being taken care of by Emily Wilderman and Juliet Smythe, the site’s doctor and nurse.
Thank God, they survived, thought Zach. It’s going to be many hours before more medical help gets here. He noted the seriously wounded had one or more staffers doing something with them, even if only holding a hand.
“Once the shooting seemed to stop, we pulled all the wounded not already here from the other areas,” said Bre Huddleston. Zach hadn’t noticed her standing nearby. “At least, I think we did.”
“We didn’t find any other wounded,” said Montero.
“Neither did we,” said Andrew, looking at Zach, who confirmed with a nod.
“Where’s Sinclair?” asked Andrew. “I need to report.”
“He’s one of the wounded,” said Montero. “In the leg. I saw the doctor working on him. I think she gave him something. He looked out of it. That leaves you in charge, Major.”
“At least until he is conscious,” said Andrew. “What’s the status of communications? And were they able to get clear messages out yet?”
Montero nodded. “I heard they had, but I don’t know for sure.”
“Okay, I’ll check on that. Lieutenant, the main building looks secure, but we still need to check every building on site. I doubt there’s any more Chinese hanging around, but it has to be confirmed. While I’m checking on communications, I want you to organize a systematic search of every
thing outside the main building.”
Zach agreed with the major’s actions, but he had something else to do. From what he could see of the medical attention being administered, he doubted he could add anything. Even at the height of the fighting, it had never left his mind that there was someplace else he needed to be. Only his discipline kept him doing his best to keep everyone alive and stay focused on the Chinese.
“I’ll go ahead and check the rec building and the dormitories,” he said.
“Maybe you should wait and grab a couple more people to go with you,” said Andrew.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll leave my microphone open and call out if I need help.”
Release
Zach’s body ached to rest. The search for potential interlopers, the extreme exertion of getting back with a warning, the preparation for the attack, and the attack itself had taken its toll. However, even if an opportunity was available, he couldn’t have slept—his adrenaline level was too high, and his worry about Jill and Bobby overrode his physiological needs. Had she hidden as he’d told her to? Did any of the Chinese stumble on her and Bobby? Zach was unprepared for the level of fear he felt that something had happened to them during the fight.
Without waiting for Andrew to say anything else, he pivoted and walked swiftly away from the gathering. Despite hurrying, his eyes still swept for signs of intruders. He exited back through the hole in the west wall and hustled toward the dormitories. He was shocked to see a hole blasted next to the main entrance to Dorm 2. Had there been fighting here he hadn’t noticed?
Maybe one of the RPG rockets, he thought. If so, it had hit halfway up the wall to the right of the door, exposing parts of the rooms on the first and second floors.
He threw open the outer door, glancing to his right at the askew door of the first room. The interior of the room was demolished. However, the hallway looked as if nothing had transpired that day.
Zach moved swiftly but silently, aware that his assertion to Andrew of not finding any more Chinese might be wrong. He stopped at the last room on the left and listened at the door. He couldn’t hear a sound. He stood against the wall to one side of the door and rapped lightly.
“Jill? It’s Zach. Are you two okay?” There was no sound for a moment, then he thought he heard a faint rustle. He knocked a little louder and raised his voice. “Jill, it’s Zach.”
The door flew open, and Jill exploded out of the room to throw her arms around him. She was shaking, crying, and gasping all at the same time. Zach moved them both into the room and closed the door with his foot. In a mirror, he saw that she had the pistol in her right hand, the hammer cocked. He slowly reached around to it, put his thumb between the hammer and the chamber, and pried the pistol from her. With his arms around her, he used both hands to put the safety on and lowered the hammer, placed the pistol on a table, and held her tighter. They stood together for several minutes.
When her shaking subsided, she looked up at him. “I was so scared! I could hear shooting and yelling, then it was all quiet. I didn’t know what had happened!”
“How’s Bobby?” Zach asked. The child wasn’t in sight.
“He’s asleep!” said Jill with a combination of amazement, happiness, and consternation that he could have slept through everything.
“You said you’d come for us, so I stayed here, locked up, waiting for you. I was so scared! I knew you’d come, but when you didn’t, I thought something had happened to you! I didn’t know what I would do if—”
She rambled, her head tight against his chest. He was at a loss for what to say. His hands alternately patted and stroked her back.
“I came as soon as I could,” Zach said—perhaps a little white lie but an excusable one, considering the events of the last few hours.
“Somehow, I just knew you would protect us, that somehow we would be safe if we just waited for you.”
If anything, she clutched him tighter than before. Suddenly, she kissed him. Her lips urgently fastened on his. His initial surprise vanished as he returned the kiss, his hands alternately holding and caressing her. She pulled away slightly and frantically grabbed at buttons, zippers, and whatever held their clothes together. Any thoughts he might have had about whether this was a good idea or the right time—if there ever was one for them—became lost in his own urgency.
Part of his mind knew that she was in the thralls of an adrenaline crash and not thinking clearly. But then neither was he. His own emotions were a jumble after the fight. His longing for her overrode his reservations.
Within moments, they were on her bed, her hands firmly on his shoulders, her legs drawn up and spread as his erection probed her. When he found her cleft and pushed into her, she gasped and clasped him tightly with both legs. They rocked as he urgently thrust. For her, it was as if she couldn’t get enough of him inside her. Her legs, hips, and arms encouraged his thrusts—pulling him back each time he withdrew. As suddenly as it started, she came with a series of cries.
As if a switch had been thrown, the eruption of urgency was gone. One second their coupling was the only thing in her world, and the next second she lay under a man she had hardly exchanged pleasant words with, as he continued riding her. Confusion made her almost dizzy. She had started this, but what did it mean? She wasn’t clutching at him as before but rested, her arms lightly around him and her legs lying on the backs of his. Then, with an increase in thrust rate, he climaxed with gasps of his own and final firm thrusts. They lay like that for perhaps two minutes, his head beside hers, not looking at each other.
They were both spent. She had been quick and Zach only moments later. Jill didn’t mind. The urgency of intimate contact was all she wanted—something to cling to after the fear. Zach breathed heavily as his pulse slowly subsided, and their bodies melded. He kept his weight on his arms and knees but still pressed into her, while her legs now clasped him tightly, not wanting him to withdraw yet. Somehow their closeness kept the rest of the universe at bay for at least a few more moments.
Finally, he raised his head and looked at her.
“Well,” was all he said.
“Yes, well,” she answered, not knowing what else to say.
He withdrew and sat on the edge of the bed, one hand resting on her flank, as she rolled to face him.
He sighed. “I guess this is something we’ll have to talk about.”
“Yes, but later,” she said, not knowing what she wanted to say and needing time to process the day’s events.
“I really have to get back,” he said, half reluctantly and half wanting to escape, not knowing what he should say or do.
“What happened?” she asked. Both of them were more than willing to change the immediate subject.
“They were Chinese. They somehow found out about the Object and tried to take it.”
“Take it!” she exclaimed. “But it can’t be moved!”
“Well . . . evidently their information source wasn’t comprehensive,” he said with a combination of anger and irony.
A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she sat up quickly, her conspicuously swaying breasts distracting Zach. “Was anyone hurt?”
Zach’s expression turned grave, and he nodded. “We don’t have a full count yet, but it looks like perhaps a dozen deaths and twice as many injuries.”
Jill’s face blanched. “Who?” she whispered.
“Sorry, we don’t have a full accounting yet, and I really have to get back out there. As soon as we finish securing the camp, an all-clear will sound.”
With that, he stood and gathered his clothes scattered around the floor.
“Probably best if you stay here until the all-clear is given,” he said, putting on his clothes, his back to her. “I’ll come to let you know if anything critical happens before then.”
As he left, he looked toward the bed for the first time since rising from it. Jill was sitting up, a blanket pulled to her chin. She watched him with either no expression or perhaps the merging of multiple expr
essions that canceled one another out.
“I’m glad the two of you are safe. I was really worried about you.” He then hesitated. “And you’re right, I would have done anything possible to keep you and Bobby safe.”
She only nodded. He opened the door and left.
CHAPTER 43
LOSSES
Triage
Sinclair grimaced as he pulled himself into a sitting position. His lower right leg was encased in bandages. The painkillers dulled most of what he would otherwise feel—most, but not all. He didn’t know how bad the wound was, but he suspected it wasn’t minor.
Paradoxically, frustration was his ally. Every ounce of his being wanted to be on his feet: checking on the wounded, pestering the communications staff, and radioing out during the now more frequent breaks in solar interference. He had talked with the Seal team commander via radio, updating him after confirming the attack was definitely over. Worst of all was waiting for a final tally of the dead.
He had the urge to yell out for someone to do something. The problem was, he didn’t know who to yell at or what they should be doing that wasn’t already being done. One issue was solved when Andrew appeared next to where Sinclair was lying. A look at his second in command’s face, and he girded himself for the report.
“General, we’ve finished an initial accounting of staff.”
Sinclair’s face hardened as he prepared himself for the details.
Harbinger (The Janus Harbinger Book 1) Page 56
