by C. R. Daems
“The scouts on the east side are monitoring the Hihari troops and our progress,” he reported two hours into the climb. “We are at thirty and the Hihari at ten percent to a point Rogers has designated ground zero, which is about seventy-five percent up the mountain.
“We are at forty and the Hihari at twenty-five percent,” he reported after four hours.
“We are at sixty and the Hihari at fifty percent,” he reported after six hours.
“We are at eighty and the Hihari at seventy-five percent,” he reported after eight hours.
“Rogers expects the Hihari and us will reach ground zero about the same time, approximately ten minutes. He also said the Hihari and us have reinforcements on the way.”
Right about now I wished there was a lake around the next bend where I could take a refreshing swim, kill a rabbit, and roast it over a warm fire as I took a short nap. So much for focus, I chided myself. When I looked, Patten had just disappeared between two massive boulders...and I thought I saw movement to my right. I crouched down and stared to where a clump of large boulders sat about seventy meters away. Then I saw men through a small gap of less than a meter between several boulders and realized they must be the Hihari. I unslung my sniper rifle, took a comfortable kneeling position, sighted on the gap, and slowly began to tighten the pressure on the trigger. I aimed center mass as even a shot to the arm would be a killing impact at this distance, destroying the arm and entering the body. I saw a uniform and fired. He spun away. I stayed still, waiting for someone to look through the gap. Several seconds later a face appeared. I fired and the face exploded from five thousand Newtons per meter force of the bullet. I waited. After a couple of minutes, someone stuck a machine gun out and fired a full magazine. The bullets at their closest were several meters to my right. When I heard machine gun fire above, I continued my trek up the path where Patten had disappeared.
“There you are,” Patten said as I passed through the two boulders. “I heard shooting and came back when I saw you weren’t behind me.”
“I stopped to kill a couple of Hihari and rest. I feel like a pack mule,” I said.
“The scouts have engaged the Hihari some twenty meters ahead. They are about fifty meters to the north of us,” Patten said. “There is plenty of cover behind boulders.”
The gunfire sounded louder as we continued climbing for another twenty meters. Then I could see the Tasmanians and the muzzle flashes from the Hihari. The Hihari soldiers were peeking out, shooting, and jumping back after a short burst. Seemed like a waste of ammo because as someone would come out to fire the other side just took cover, although the Tasmanians in their usual aggressive style were taking every opportunity to advance. I lay quiet watching the action, found a Hihari who was leaving cover to shoot, sighted where he appeared, and waited. When he came out firing, I shot him in the chest. He bounced off the adjacent boulder and crashed to the ground. My CheyTac had a suppressor so I doubted anyone realized a sniper had killed him or was aware of my presence. I picked another spot. I had killed four until someone realized there was a sniper and my approximate position. Dirt and rock chips were flying everywhere while I stay huddled behind a cluster of boulders. I thought the Tasmanians would be taking advantage of the Hihari’s loss of focus to advance closer. The sudden burst of Tavor machine fire told me they had. I burst out of hiding, heading for the Tasmanian group to see if I could help.
“Anyone need help?” I asked when I arrived, thankful no Hihari had still been functional.
“Bailey and Rupp,” Rogers said, pointing to two men, one lying on his back and the other sitting propped up against a boulder. “Bailey first, I think.”
When I reached Bailey, I knelt and felt for a pulse. It was weak. A quick survey revealed one wound, well actually three nine-millimeter slugs to his vest, which had stopped the bullets from penetrating his chest but not the impact. I thought the impact had fractured a couple of ribs and caused a compound fracture to one that appeared to have penetrated his left lung. I used a hypodermic syringe to release some of the additional air around the lung and hoped I had helped enough to get him airlifted to the medics, because I felt surgery would be required. Next, I walked over to Rupp. He had two gunshot wounds—one to right the leg and the other to the left arm. I put a tourniquet on the arm and dressed the leg wound. Pena was dead from a head shot. Sniper Hays and spotter Broyles were also dead from multiple wounds.
“There are more coming,” Rogers said after talking with Cole, who was on the east side of the Hilan Pass watching the west side.
“What about our reinforcements?” Salmon asked.
“I have good news and bad news,” Rogers said. “The bad news is the reinforcements are about an hour away.”
“And the good news?” Salmon again.
“The Hihari are only a half hour away,” Rogers said. Talk about gallows humor, I mused.
“I’d be pissed if I were our reinforcements. A six-hour hike and no Hihari,” I said to a chorus of “Taarah…Taarah…” the Tasmanian equivalent of the old-Earth’s marine “Hoorah.”
With my Tavor cradled in my arms, I sat peeking out behind a meter-high boulder while eating one of my energy bars. My focus was on discarding any distracting emotions like fear, how many Hihari were coming, would I die or get wounded… My thoughts were on how good my energy bar tasted, the invigorating weather, my brothers. They were solid men I could depend on in good times and bad. I had made a good choice joining the Tasmanians, I concluded as I saw my first Hihari dart between two boulders. We had decided to leave the dead, including our three, in plain sight hoping to lure a few Hihari into thinking we had left or all died fighting. It worked to an extent. Five walked around, looking at the dead.
“I see some dead USP soldiers. Maybe they were all killed or wounded and the wounded left,” a young Hihari said while poking at Hays.
“You idiot, that’s one of those devils. Be careful, those bastards don’t leave,” said an older man as his head swiveled back and forth.
“They can be killed,” the younger man said as he prodded Hays’s prone body. The five continued to advance slowly, examining each body they saw.
I had my weapon centered on one and was considering my next shot as I head Rogers’s “Now” in my earbud. I never got the second shot as the five appeared to be flung into the air simultaneously. Then the Hihari began firing at nothing and everything, sounding like a Chinese New Year’s celebration. Of course, if they hit one of us, it would have been rock chips or a ricocheting bullet. Slowly the amount of firing stopped, probably to decide on a strategy since they had to know reinforcements were closing quickly.
I had no sooner finished the thought than weapons on full auto erupted for several minutes. Thinking that was cover fire and several would be rushing our position very soon, I slowly, between numerous pauses, inched out a rock the size of a head. Then I lay on my stomach, draped my ghillie suit over my head, and peered out between the boulder and my rock. There were so many muzzle flashes it was like a convention of fireflies. Fortunately, the shooters were firing waist to head high. Even so, there was a lot of metal flying around and anyone caught out in it would look like ground beef. As I watched, about half the Hihari stopped shooting as ten men jumped up and began running toward one half of our semicircle.
“Rogers, ten men are rushing your position,” I said into my mic. Before they got halfway the four in that area began firing. Two made it to the cluster of boulders Rogers and the other three were using, but I couldn’t see what happened. And now ten more were rushing our position. “Lyman, they are rushing our position now,” I said and waited as three headed toward me firing chest high as they ran. The three ran into my cluster of boulders and large rocks, swiveling left and right looking for the enemy, unaware I lay almost at their feet. At this distance and my position on the ground, my Jericho was the better choice and I double tapped the closest one to me in the head. He fell backward into his closest companion, throwing him off balance. The third
man, who stood only several meters away, was looking left toward Patten’s position. I doubled tapped him in the back of the head. The second man, now free of his dead comrade, was off balance and trying to look everywhere at once—except on the ground—and died a second later.
“I’m getting low on ammo,” Richie said on the general channel.
“Me too,” Salmon said.
“I guess you boys forgot your Tasmanian school training. Remember Simon said we carried a lot of ammo to shoot lots of the enemy, not to be wasted on a few,” I said into my mic. “Since I paid attention, I’ll give you my extra ones.” I tossed two magazines to Patten twelve meters to my right and two to Rogers fifteen meters on my left. A chorus of “Thanks” followed.
I sensed that ammo was also a general concern for the Hihari, judging by the slowdown in firing. Five minutes later the Hihari began rapid firing and a minute later another ten burst from the boulders and charged specific spots on the right and left of our semicircle. It occurred to me that we probably had men down and the Hihari realized there were weaknesses they could exploit. I heard or imagined the various Tavors click on empty and no new mags inserted. And maybe the Hihari did also, because the rest of them rose and charged. It seemed their early cover fire also had them out of ammo as most were firing with handguns as they charged.
I took down several with the last of my Tavor but didn’t have time to draw my Jericho as a short, stocky man dashed toward me, his eyes wide, mouth grinning ear-to-ear, arms spread wide, and looking like an out-of-control big rig truck. I twisted right and as I did my right arm went under his outstretched right arm and lifted, causing his arm to go over my head and throwing him off balance. He was going too fast to stop, and he tripped and crashed into a five-meter-square boulder.
But another two Hihari were following a few steps behind him and slowed, both of them grinning as they drew their knives. I held my knife in front of me trying to look like I was scared. The grins got bigger. I moved to my right, putting the second man behind the first so they couldn’t both attack at the same time, and folded my knife along my forearm as I moved. He lunged at me as his right arm came around with the knife to slash my neck. I stepped into him, blocking with my right arm while simultaneously pushing up. Blood gushed out as my blade sliced through cloth, skin, and arteries to the bone. He dropped the knife as my arm swung right, driving my knife into his throat. I shoved him with my shoulder and he fell back into his comrade who was attempting to get to me. As he fought to regain his balance, I reached down, grabbed a throwing knife, and scored a direct hit into his left eye. I surveyed the area, looking for the next threat. Nothing. Silence. Four blood-covered Tasmanians standing like monoliths. Then the sound of running. Then Tasmanians breaking cover into the area.
The four of us stood unmoving as the Tasmanians walked around the area inspecting each body. Finally, Lewis, a senior Tasmanian with substantial medical experience, came walking over to me.
“Anyone alive?” he asked and I nodded.
“Bailey and Rupp are in back of us some thirty meters. I think Bailey has a compound fracture and a punctured lung. I sucked out some air around the puncture using a syringe. Rupp’s arm has a ruptured artery. I put a tourniquet on it…forty-six minutes ago,” I said. He nodded and headed in the direction I had indicated.
“Rogers, Graham, Lyman, and Luan. Simon said you are relieved and should go down. We’ll keep the area Tasmanian property,” Parks said. “You twelve certainly upheld the Tasmanian mystique.”
The other three turned to leave; I stayed. “Sir,” I said but hesitated, not sure how to address him.
“Just Parks, Luan,” he said. “What is it?”
“I’m staying,” I said, feeling I had earned the right to speak up. “And I’ll need a spotter if anyone with you has a sniper specialty.”
A smile briefly touched Parks’s lips. “Why?”
“There are Hihari snipers on the east side of the mountain. I thought maybe I could clear the way for the boys.”
“Cole, your second specialty is sniper,” he said and a tall, angular-faced man nodded. “You’re Luan’s spotter.” He turned back to me. “Simon wanted to send you back for a hot meal and a rest. Guess you can rest here as well as there. No hot meal though.”
“Anyone got an energy bar? I ate my last one an hour ago,” I said. To my surprise I got one from five different men and could have had another dozen.
“Luan, I’m Cole,” he said, towering over me by a good fourteen centimeters. “Sniper isn’t my favorite activity but I’m looking forward to spotting for you. You’re the talk of the Tasmanians here in Harari and not just because you’re a woman.”
“Glad to meet you, Cole. I’d like to go higher and pick a spot. Wait while I collect Patten’s spotter equipment,” I said. I returned to our last position and easily found Patten’s body. We were just getting to know each other, but I liked him and would miss him. I picked up his bag of sniper equipment and said a silent goodbye to a friend and brother. When I reached Cole, I nodded to what looked like a trail going up. We climbed for over an hour before I found a spot that looked good. “This looks like a good spot.”
“Thanks. I thought we were going to run out of air. My lungs are screaming for oxygen,” he said between pants and smiled. I showed him how I wanted the camera set up, then we donned our ghillie suits and assumed the positions we would occupy. “Now we wait.”
“What are we waiting for?”
“To become part of the mountain and for the Hihari to reveal their positions.” I closed my eyes and practiced Gong Luan.
Sometime later, I open my eyes, stopped the tape, and rewound it. Then I started the tape and pointed to the muzzle flashes. “Notice the snipers are stationary. So select one, show me the one you selected, and then calculate the distance and wind speed,” I said, thinking these would be easy shots since the distance was only six to seven hundred meters.
Cole was a bit slow on his first selection. “This one,” he said, pointing to one man about midway up the mountain. I nodded. “Six hundred forty meters. Wind eighteen kph,” he said after almost a minute. I made no adjustment as it was within a few meters of what I’d estimated. He was content to lie in the open relying on the quality of the ghillie suit and stillness. I slowly tightened the pressure on the trigger. Bang.
“Next?” I said as the ghillie suit jumped and rolled as the bullet hit the middle of his back.
“This one,” he said, looking like he was just working his way up the mountain. “Six hundred eighty. Wind eighteen kph.” This went on for the better part of two hours, during which time we terminated twenty-two snipers. When I announced we were done, he gave me a long, calculating stare. “It was like shooting toy ducks at a carnival shooting gallery. The sniper classes were hard work. First making the ghillie suit, crawling into position, lying there for hours waiting on the target, making the shoot, and then sneaking out.”
“I think this assignment is uniquely different. Your part of the army so you don’t have to sneak anywhere. The mountain makes using a camera ideal which wouldn’t work in a jungle or even a desert, and there are multiple targets whereas normally there is only one or two,” I said. “I’m going to sleep for a while. Why don’t you act as a spotter for the boys on the east side, in case the Hihari send a force to recapture their side of the mountain.” I finished another energy bar, pulled my ghillie suit around me, and slept.
* * *
When I woke, Cole was smiling. “Simon said for us to get our asses down from the mountain and report to him. Today.”
“How’s the east side?” I asked as I began to collect my equipment for the trek down the mountain.
“We control the Hilan Pass Mountains and the Hihari are retreating.”
“What’s your primary specialty, Cole?” I asked as we began our descent.
“Scout,” he said as he led the way.
“I didn’t know scout was a specialty.”
“It’s not official
ly, but unofficially there are some of us who are considered sneakier than the rest of you. So they select us to do the scouting. I can shoot all right but I don’t have the patience to be a topnotch sniper.”
“How long have you been a Tasmanian?”
“Going on five years. Five years in the Rangers before that and four in the regular army,” he said, never looking back as he negotiated the terrain like a mountain goat. “I like the Tasmanians. It’s more like a brotherhood. No rank or medals and you can count on everyone to have your back.” He laughed. “Even guys you know who don’t really like you.”
“I’ve been impressed. As a woman in a unit that is exclusively male, I would have expected more…”
“Resentment? Hassle?” Cole asked.
“Yes, and more. But I feel like the only girl in a family of boys. It’s nice,” I said, pleased with my choice of services.
“Now that the women Rangers know a woman can make it, I would imagine you will have company soon.”
“It will be hard for them to make it,” I said, having thought about Staff Sergeants Knight and Beal. “I’m younger than most Rangers, grew up in the mountains, and studied a very unique martial art since I was nine. That was a very unique combination that happened to give me an advantage that equalized the men’s natural strength and aggressiveness. And I wasn’t indoctrinated with society’s norms for women. I was nurtured by a man as his heir and not a girl.”
Cole was silent for a couple of minutes. “Sounds right. We have had at least ten female Rangers attempt the Tasmanian school over the years.” He didn’t speak again for a long time. “I heard the brass did everything they could to get you to quit…Smithy said what they did—under orders—was vicious and cruel. He knew it was wrong and was relieved when Simon stopped it.”
