“Copy. I’ll take as many as you’ll give me,” said Alex, kneeling next to McCulver, who stared at him wide-eyed.
The helicopter descended a few minutes later, heading toward a distant swirl of red smoke past the outline of a baseball diamond.
“ETA one minute,” said the copilot.
Alex removed his headset and replaced it with his helmet. He kneeled next to McCulver, patting him on the head. “Don’t go anywhere.”
When the helicopter touched down behind second base, Alex jumped down onto the flattened grass and jogged toward Staff Sergeant Evans, who kneeled behind the pitcher’s mound at the front of a column of combat-loaded Marines. Sand from the infield pelted Alex while he yelled over the thunderous drumming of the helicopter’s rotor blades.
“Load them up, Staff Sergeant! It’s a medevac bird, so we might have to leave a few behind. Priority goes to the automatic riflemen. I want them closest to the doors!”
While Evans led the Marines toward the helicopter, Alex ran toward the third base dugout, where Kate sat out of sight behind a translucent privacy screen fixed to the chain-link fence.
“Sorry about the cloak-and-dagger stuff,” he said, kissing her quickly. “I’ll explain later.”
“How sure is this?” she asked.
“One hundred percent.”
“How will you—”
“Honey,” he interrupted. “I need you on the road within the hour.”
“Alex, we can’t be ready in an hour! We haven’t started loading the trailer!”
“You have to be on the road in an hour. This is a one-way trip for me. I can’t predict how the RRZ will respond to this stunt. I kidnapped one of the prisoners held in the detention center, and this mission isn’t exactly legitimate.”
She stared vacantly at the helicopter loading the Marines. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“We’ll be fine. It’s just happening a little faster than we expected. Everything on the list is packed and ready to move. You have plenty of able bodies to help.”
Four Marines started jogging away from the helicopter.
“I have to go. If I don’t show up by this time tomorrow, you have to leave.”
“We’re not leaving without you,” she said, her face regaining confidence.
“Twenty-four hours and you push off. If all goes well, you’ll see me this afternoon,” he said.
“Say good-bye to everyone for me,” she said, kissing him once more.
He nodded, then ran across the sand swept infield toward the helicopter.
Chapter 44
EVENT +21 Days
Rangeley, Maine
Alex glanced nervously at Staff Sergeant Evans. He’d caught a glimpse of Rangeley Lake through the compartment door, which meant their medevac mission cover story was a few seconds away from completely unraveling. They needed to move McCulver into a position next to him, where he could see the lake and guide them to Eli’s exact location. Sitting a wounded sheriff’s deputy near one of the doorways during the approach would invariably raise questions that Alex couldn’t answer. The pilot’s voice filled his headset.
“Captain, I just received orders to return to base immediately. Breaking off the approach.”
Alex felt the helicopter pitch right, exposing the entire lake through the port-side troop compartment door.
“Negative. My unit on the ground reports possible militia movement near the accident site. I need you to set us down as close as possible to their location,” he said, nodding at Evans.
Evans tapped Sergeant Copeland’s forearm, and the two Marines slid across the helicopter from their positions along the starboard hull, behind the copilot’s seat. They started loosening McCulver’s safety restraints.
“Captain, my orders are to bring everyone back to MOB Sanford. This is straight from the top,” the pilot said, looking over his shoulder at the Marines huddled over McCulver. “Why are your Marines releasing our patient?”
“He needs some fresh air,” said Alex, putting his hand out to stop the helicopter’s crew chief from standing up. “We have this under control, Sergeant.”
The crew chief looked around the helicopter at the scene unfolding, then glanced sharply at Alex.
“Is this a hijack situation?” he yelled over the wind buffeting the back of the cabin.
Alex withdrew his arm. “Not yet!”
Evans and Copeland manhandled McCulver into position next to Alex.
“Who is he?” yelled the crew chief.
“He’s one of the prisoners captured at the airfield! Killed two rangers while impersonating a cop! Give me two more minutes of flight time!” said Alex. “It’s important.”
“Everything all right back there, Sergeant?” he heard over the headphones.
“Good to go, sir,” the Air National Guard sergeant said, glaring at Alex. “I strongly suggest we give these devil dogs a quick aerial tour of the southeastern shore. Looks like they brought a guide to point out the more important features.”
“Fuck, I knew something was off here. When we land, I want your team off my helicopter. This is bullshit,” said the pilot.
“Fair enough. Just get us close to our target,” said Alex, feeling the helicopter bank right.
“This better be a valid target, Captain, or we’re out of here.”
“We’re hitting the suspected location of Eli Russell, the militia leader responsible for this morning’s attack.”
“4th Brigade’s air cavalry already hit that target,” said the pilot.
“They hit an abandoned site. Deputy Dog here provided a more current location.”
“That’s not a sheriff’s deputy?”
“He’s Eli Russell’s second in command. Captured in the raid on the airfield. I’m borrowing him for a few hours, along with these Marines.”
“No wonder the RRZ is frantic,” said the pilot, starting their descent. “What are we up against on the ground? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not armed for a combat mission.”
“Unknown number of hostiles armed with semiautomatic rifles. We’ll keep them busy during the approach and departure. Set us down as close to the objective as you feel comfortable.”
“I see a nice flat spot right below us,” said the pilot.
“Just a little further. Sorry to drag you and your crew into this,” said Alex. “I’m going to transfer my headset to Deputy Dog, so he can guide you to the objective.”
“Roger. I’ll do what I can to get you close. Feet wet in one minute.”
Alex removed his headset, leaning close to McCulver’s face. “This better be fucking real, or you’re going skydiving. Understand?”
McCulver nodded, and Alex slipped the headphone-equipped aircrew helmet over his bleeding head.
“Press this button to transmit,” he said, placing McCulver’s hand on the remote trigger hanging from the headset below his right shoulder.
“Staff Sergeant Evans! Get the gunners ready!”
Alex readied his own gear. The helicopter dropped toward the trees, banking left along Rangeley Lake’s southeastern shoreline. A hand forcefully tapped his shoulder.
“Sir, the pilot thinks your target is that point jutting out into the lake! We’ll make a two-hundred-foot, high-speed pass down the port side and look for an LZ!” yelled the crew chief.
Alex gave him a thumbs-up, then transmitted over his intrasquad radio, “Target coming up on the port side! Weapons hold until I give the order.”
The two Marines next to McCulver nodded, shouldering their M27 Infantry Automatic Weapons. Alex leaned his head forward and located the spot where the gently curving shore protruded into the dark blue water. From this altitude, he couldn’t see a break in the trees indicating the presence of a house or field, but that also meant Eli’s people would have the same issue scanning the horizon to locate the helicopter.
The helicopter turned a few degrees to port, lining up for a pass directly over the point. As the trees approached, the outli
ne of an open area appeared, starting at the neck of the landmass and extending to the roof of a massive cedar shingle, craftsman house situated on the water’s edge. Alex leveled his rifle at the house as they passed, seeing nothing on the expansive deck facing the lake. A steep wooden staircase led from the deck to a dock and covered boathouse that contained a bow rider powerboat and three yellow kayaks. The house and dock disappeared when the helicopter banked left. The two Marines stationed in the doorway lowered their rifles slightly, each of them looking at Alex and shaking their heads.
“I didn’t see anything through binoculars,” said the crew chief. “We’ll make a second run across the field in front of the house. Looks like plenty of room to set down.”
The helicopter eased out of the turn, settling on a low-level run that would bring the front of the house down their port side.
“Six vehicles parked in front of the house. People in camouflage running toward the vehicles!” yelled the crew chief. “The pilot is widening his approach to open the distance.”
Alex passed the information to the Marines and steadied his rifle. The helicopter swayed right and slowed as it crossed the field. Through his ACOG scope, he spotted four men headed for the vehicles parked fifty feet from the house, all of them carrying military-style rifles. The helicopter rapidly drifted toward the far end of the clearing, seconds away from reaching the water.
“Weapons identified. Request permission to engage,” said one of the gunners.
“Stand by,” Alex said, grabbing the crew chief’s binoculars and shoving them into McCulver’s face. “I need a positive ID on someone!”
McCulver stared through the binoculars for a moment. “Roland Byrd! He’s one of the squad leaders.”
“Weapons free!” Alex yelled through the cabin, flipping the selector switch on his rifle to automatic.
The cabin exploded in a discordance of gunfire. The Marine gunners fired repeated short bursts of automatic fire from their M27s. Pressing the trigger rapidly, Alex tried to keep the scope’s bouncing reticle on the torso of a man next to a black SUV. A red cloud burst behind the man’s head after the hail of bullets shifted across the windshield and found their target. A crack passed through the compartment, followed by the distinctive, repetitive clang of bullets hitting metal. The helicopter tilted forward and surged over the trees, robbing them of targets. He turned to the crew chief.
“Tell the pilot to put us down at the entrance to the clearing! I don’t want any of the cars getting off the point! We don’t know if Eli is here!”
A few seconds later, the helicopter banked hard left, causing everyone to grab on to something bolted to the helicopter. Alex let his rifle hang by its sling and put an arm around McCulver, whose legs dangled freely over the edge. He caught the staff sergeant’s eye as the helicopter leveled.
“Tempting!” he said, pulling McCulver toward the cockpit, where the assault team secured him to the fixed medical litter with zip ties.
The crew chief grabbed him while he repositioned. “Tell your gunners to concentrate on the ground level of the house during the approach. There’s an automatic weapon in one of the windows. This is a one-shot deal.”
“Just get us low enough to jump!” said Alex.
“Team, we’re on final approach. Assault team exits on the port side. Out the door in less than two seconds. Starboard-side gunners, concentrate your fire on the ground floor. Possible automatic weapon in one of the windows or doors. Starboard gunners stay with the helicopter and provide cover for their departure.”
“Ten seconds!” yelled the crew chief.
Alex reloaded his rifle, mentally counting the seconds. He’d exchanged rifle magazines and reached seven when the starboard-side automatic rifles erupted, tearing into the windows partially obscured by the home’s wraparound porch. A red pickup truck lurched forward, speeding down the dirt road and closing the distance to the helicopter.
“Concentrate all fire on that vehicle!” said Alex, sliding past the crew chief to help.
The two gunners tracked the moving target with short bursts of fire, and the road exploded around the truck. Alex canted his rifle and lined up the iron sights with the hood, hoping to lead the target enough to send all of his bullets into the front seat. The rifle bucked repeatedly against his shoulder. The pickup truck’s tires exploded, and the windshield disintegrated from the concentrated fire of three rifles. The red vehicle swerved off the road and rolled to a stop, smoke pouring out of the crumpled hood, its lifeless driver visible through the shattered passenger-side window.
“Time to go, sir!” yelled the crew chief, pulling him away from the starboard opening.
Alex followed the last Marine out the door, jumping several feet to the hard-packed road. Bullets snapped past as the helicopter rapidly climbed out of the way, heading for the cover of the eastern tree line. The Marines wasted no time sprinting for the remnants of a crumbling rock wall fifty feet in the direction of the house. Several closely spaced cracks exploded overhead, confirming the crew chief’s warning about an automatic weapon. They slammed into the knee-high pile of rocks, bullets striking all around them. He crawled next to Evans, keeping his head well below the rocks.
“Hit the house with 40 mike-mike until the incoming automatic fire stops, then move your men forward,” he said, as another burst of gunfire whipped overhead. “I’ll see if I can find your target.”
“Copeland, Derren, 40 mike-mike at the windows. Now! Kennedy, Bradley, put the targets hiding behind the vehicles out of business,” said Evans, pulling a gold-tipped 40mm grenade from the Velcro pouch attached to his tactical vest.
Alex crawled along the stones until he reached a break in the wall. He nestled the vertical fore grip against a rock and scanned the house through his scope. All of the ground-floor windows were partially broken or missing. Gunfire reached his ears, immediately followed by stone fragments and dirt striking his face.
“Leftmost bottom window!” he said, lining up his scope’s reticle with the corner of the house.
He fired steadily until he heard three nearly simultaneous thumps from the Marines’ M320 grenade launchers. A few seconds passed before the high-explosive, dual-purpose grenades struck the house. The first projectile hit the roof of the porch, penetrating several inches before exploding the overhang above the corner window. The second and third grenades hit milliseconds later, passing through the shingle siding under the porch roof and detonating inside the house. The three windows spaced evenly to the left of the front door ejected a cloud of wood fragments and drywall twenty feet into the front yard.
With the automatic weapon neutralized, the M27 gunners tore into the bullet-riddled silver sedan hiding two men. A short burst of automatic fire knocked one of the men into the open, where he dropped to his hands and knees. A second burst stitched across the side of his torso, collapsing him in a cloud of dust.
“Hold your fire!” yelled Alex, spotting two empty hands held palms forward through the car’s missing windows.
“Hold your fire!” repeated the Marines, up and down the rock wall.
“How far away are the cars? Rough guess.”
“One hundred yards.”
“All right. Here’s the plan,” he said, talking loudly enough for the entire team to hear. “We’re gonna move up with Kennedy and Bradley covering the front of the house with their M27s. We’ll move them up after we secure the prisoner and clear the house. Ten seconds. Do not fire on the man behind the vehicle unless he presents a weapon. Clear?”
“Clear, sir,” they responded.
“Reload and get ready,” he said, dropping the magazine from his rifle and stuffing it in one of his cargo pockets.
The Marines reloaded their weapons and inched forward against the rocks, waiting for his signal. Alex pushed off the ground and jumped over the wall, motioning for them to follow with his left hand. He wanted to be the first Marine over the wall, in case a sniper watched them from the house or trees, but he also needed a head sta
rt. Most of the Marines in the battalion were twenty years younger than Alex, and he didn’t want to arrive at the cars embarrassingly far behind the rest of his team.
Halfway across the field, the Marines overtook him, yelling for the lone survivor to step into the open with his hands above his head. He arrived a few seconds after the first marine, sliding between the leftmost cars and scanning the front of the house. Dark gray smoke poured out of the windows on the ground level, indicating a secondary fire caused by the grenades. A quick look at the second floor showed a few broken windows, with all of the shades closed. He turned to Evans.
“Keep the M27s in place at the rock wall. I don’t think we’ll get the chance to clear the house.”
Evans nodded, grabbing the zip-tied prisoner delivered by Corporal Derren and shoving him to his knees against the black SUV’s hanging bumper. Alex approached the scruffy, bearded man, who spit a combination of dirt and blood onto the ground, keeping his head low. He squatted and used his rifle barrel to lift the man’s face.
“Look at me, you piece of shit. Is Eli here?”
“No,” he croaked, shaking his head and avoiding eye contact.
We beat him here?
Alex didn’t think it was possible. The Matvee’s navigation software calculated the driving distance between Limerick and Rangeley Lake to be one hundred twenty-nine miles, roughly three hours utilizing the most obvious roads north. He doubted Eli would take a predictable route, so he adjusted the course through rural western Maine and added another thirty minutes to the trip. Eli should be here, unless he drove straight to Charlie’s place.
“Have you seen him this morning? Feel free to expand your answer beyond yes or no,” Alex said, jamming the barrel into the soft spot above his trachea.
The man coughed. “He left about fifteen minutes ago with the other half of the squad. Two cars.”
“Do you know where he was headed?” said Alex, moving the rifle barrel to his forehead.
He closed his eyes and shook his head, “No. He drove in and sped off. Said he’d be back later this afternoon.”
THE ALEX FLETCHER BOXSET: Books 1-5 Page 129
