by Dirk Patton
After I cleared our plates, washed them and put them away, I spread out on the small dining table where we’d eaten breakfast. Titus sat and watched me for a while, occasionally telling me something about his past. I felt for him. Wished he’d reconsider and come with me. But then I thought about that and realized I didn’t have anything to offer him other than running and fighting. At least here he had plenty of food and water and was warm and dry.
Rifle and pistol finished, I reassembled them and began loading all of my empty magazines from a case of ammo that Titus had brought out from his armory. Firearms taken care of, I started working on the edges of my Kukri and knife. Both had been used heavily and the blades were showing the wear.
While I worked with a whetstone, Titus disappeared into the surveillance room. Couldn’t say that I blamed him. Watching someone sharpen a knife is about as exciting as watching someone paint a wall. I stayed at it, occasionally adding a drop of oil as I worked, until the edges were back to razor sharp. Sheathing them, I started cleaning up, pausing when Titus called out.
“Sumthin’s up with the Rooskies.”
Leaving the mess where it was for the moment, I stood up and joined him. He was staring at a monitor that displayed a street view I hadn’t seen before. It had become a grey afternoon, washing the colors out. Walking slowly down the street was a Russian patrol, one of them with the microphone for a loud hailer held to his mouth. He was obviously speaking into it, the other soldiers around him keeping a close eye on their surroundings.
“No audio?” I asked.
“Nope. Not on the cameras in this part of town,” he said.
“This part of town? Seriously. How many cameras do you have?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the Russian patrol.
With a sigh, Titus hit a few keys on one of the keyboards then pointed at one of the monitors. A line diagram of the town of Mountain Home drew itself, then a whole host of red dots appeared, covering most of the small city.
“Those are cameras?” I asked in shock.
“Yep. Told you this place cost a fuckin fortune. Lot of it went into the goddamn surveillance system. Eight hundred and seven of the fuckers.”
I was amazed. I guess when he said he had more money than he knew how to spend, he wasn’t exaggerating.
“OK, so how do we find out what that prick’s saying?” I asked.
“Hang on. I ain’t as good with this as my daughter was,” Titus said, typing in commands with his index fingers.
Close to a minute later the views changed and the cameras began cycling. Leaning forward, Titus adjusted a volume knob I had failed to notice and the white noise of an empty town came over speakers set in the ceiling. Occasionally, when the system cycled through a certain camera, we could hear the sounds of a helicopter. Then one of the monitors blinked and I could see a Russian patrol with a powered megaphone, the sound blasting out of the speakers.
“…surrender yourself in exchange.” We had come in at the end of a message and Titus entered a command to stop the system from changing to another camera. A few moments later I saw the Russian lift the microphone to his mouth to repeat the message.
“Major John Chase of the American Army,” he spoke passable English with a heavy Slavic accent. “We have your wife. She is unharmed and will remain that way if you surrender yourself in exchange.”
I stood rooted to the spot, barely able to process what I’d just heard. They had Katie? My hands balled into fists as anger coursed through me. I must have escaped too soon and they were able to chase her down. Goddamn it! Spinning, I stormed out of the surveillance room and began sorting my weapons out and getting them settled on my body.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Titus had followed me.
“Going to get my wife,” I growled. “Open the door and let me out.”
I pulled the charging handle to load a round in my rifle. Titus stood there looking at me, shaking his head.
“What?” I challenged, ready to go commit murder and mayhem.
“Have you seen her?” He asked, the idea hitting me like a slap of cold water.
“But…” I started to say, my voice trailing off.
“You’ve seen a fuckin’ Russian running on at the mouth about them having your wife. Maybe they do, maybe they don’t. But if they don’t you’re gonna feel like a goddamn fool for running right into their arms for nothin’.”
He was right. But could I take the risk?
“Got plenty more cameras,” he said. “’Fore you go charging off like a bull with a hot poker up his ass, let’s see what we can see.”
I stared back at him for a few moments, thinking about what he was saying. He was right. I nodded and gestured at the surveillance room, following him through the door.
He sat down and started working on the keyboards, the views on the monitors slowly cycling. I was standing behind him, watching him work, trying to remain patient as he hunted and pecked across the keys.
“Whyn’t you go get a chair from the kitchen. Bring it in here and have a seat. You’re buggin’ the hell out of me, breathin’ down my neck like that.” He didn’t look up or stop working as he spoke.
Suppressing a sigh, I did as he asked. I wanted to grab control from him, but being able to type faster doesn’t help if you don’t know how to work the system. Returning with a chair, I set it down gently at the end of the desk and lowered my ass into it.
Forcing myself to focus on the monitors and not Titus’ keyboarding took a supreme will of effort, but I managed it. The views changed regularly and at first I thought he was repeating the same camera when I saw a Russian soldier with a megaphone several times in a row. Then I realized it was different patrols, broadcasting the same message.
“If they’ve got her, they’ll be at some place they’re using for a command post. Can you get a view of city hall?” I asked.
Titus grunted and spent a few minutes clicking. Several monitors changed and he looked up and pointed at one of them. All I could see was a plain, brown, single story building.
“That’s city hall,” he said. “Let’s try a few other places.”
He kept clicking, naming off the buildings as he pulled up a live image of each. We checked the police station. The county recorder’s building. The library. All were quiet. Next he started looking at schools, beginning with elementary and working his way up through the grades. Still nothing.
“I don’t know where else to look. Maybe they ain’t really got her. Maybe they ain’t holding her here. Maybe they got her down to the air base.” Titus looked up at me and shrugged his shoulders.
“No,” I said, thinking about the situation. “If they have her, they’ll want her here so she can be used quickly if I’m spotted. Maybe they aren’t worried about setting up in a building. It’s not like it’s a permanent occupation of the town. The whole thing can be run with a laptop and radio. All they’d need is…”
“What?” He asked when I paused.
“Large open spaces,” I said. “Large enough for a big helicopter to land. Parks. Golf Courses. Maybe the football field at a high school, but that might be a little tight with the bleachers and the goal posts. How many parks in town?”
“Only one big enough for a helicopter,” he said, already working on the keyboard.
As soon as the feed came up, I knew I’d guessed right. A Hind Mi-24 sat in the middle of a large, grassy field. A small squad of Russian soldiers was marching across the grass, away from the helicopter. I couldn’t see anyone close to it, but I couldn’t see the far side of the aircraft.
“Can you get a view from the other side?”
More typing and an image of the park came up on a different monitor. This time I could see several people outside the Hind. Four indistinct figures stood in a row between the helo and a giant tree, each with an arm held up like they were trying to touch the sky.
“Just a sec. I think this one’ll zoom,” Titus said.
When he was able to push in with the camera the det
ails blurred, jumped, then came into focus. The helo’s winch cable had been stretched out and secured to the trunk of a huge tree. The four figures standing along its length each had a wrist handcuffed to the braided steel line.
I stared in shock when I recognized Irina and Martinez. I had thought they were dead. Was certain I’d killed them. But there they were, and so were Katie and Rachel, on either side of Martinez. She must have been injured because they appeared to be holding her up.
“How do I get there?” I asked, jumping to my feet.
“Whoa there, big fella,” Titus said, leaning back in his chair. “I’m guessing one of those ladies that’s strung up is the missus. And I’m also guessing you’re about ready to go charging in like Rambo, which will just get you and them killed.”
“I’m usually a little subtler than that,” I said. “And yes, one of those women is my wife.”
“Take another look at the monitor,” he pointed and I turned. All I saw was the same view as before.
“Not that one,” he said impatiently. “The one with the view from the back side of the helicopter where you can’t see the women.”
I adjusted my gaze and stared at the display, but still didn’t see anything he could be talking about. Starting to turn my head to look in Titus’ direction I froze as my eyes picked up something that didn’t belong.
The camera was high in the air, most likely mounted on a street light. It had a wide field of view, partially covering a couple of roofs in its frame. On one of those roofs I could see the legs of two men who were prone on their stomachs. They were barely in frame and I couldn’t see anything above their knees.
As I watched the screen, the angle changed. Titus moving the camera. When it panned for a better view of the roof I cursed myself for having gotten impatient. The two men were a sniper and his spotter. From their position they had an unobstructed line of sight to everywhere in the park except for directly on the opposite side of the Hind where the girls were restrained. I had little doubt there was a second sniper team set up to cover that area.
“Like I said,” Titus muttered.
38
I sat staring at the monitors for a few moments. As I watched, the ball of anger in my gut churned, threatening to overwhelm me and send me running to rescue the four women and rain vengeance down on the heads of the Russians. But I knew that Titus was correct and I needed to proceed carefully. Charging in with guns blazing only works in the movies.
“Can you zoom in some more on the people next to the helo?”
A couple of minutes passed as Titus laboriously pecked at the keyboard, then the image on the display swelled. Katie, Rachel and Irina looked unharmed, but Martinez didn’t look good. The right leg of her pants was soaked in blood below about mid-thigh. I guessed that she’d been shot.
I started looking at the other people, all of whom were wearing Russian uniforms. A very young looking Captain stood at the edge of the group, speaking on a radio. Closer to the women stood a tall, thin man wearing Major’s rank. He was talking to Colonel Grushkin, gesturing frequently at the girls.
So Grushkin had survived. I wasn’t really surprised. He had struck me as a tough bastard. The gash on his head had been stitched up and he looked quite a bit like Frankenstein’s monster with the long, jagged line of black sutures running across his scalp and forehead. I briefly regretted not having taken the time to shoot him when I had the chance, then dismissed the useless emotion.
Continuing to stare, I was concerned when I didn’t see Igor, Scott, Crawford or Dog. Had everyone that couldn’t fit the role of my wife been killed when the women were taken?
“You OK?” Titus asked, bringing me back from my musings.
“No, but I’m better than they’re going to be,” I said. “Thanks for stopping me earlier.”
He nodded, lit a cigarette and passed me the pack and lighter. I absently pulled one out and stuck it between my lips. I clicked the Zippo and lit up, my mind finally starting to analyze the situation from a tactical rather than emotional standpoint.
“Can you start looking for other snipers? They’ll probably be pretty close to directly opposite from the ones we’ve already spotted.”
He nodded and leaned over the keyboard.
“And, do you have any maps of the town I can look at?” I asked.
“There. In the top drawer.” He pointed at a short, three drawer filing cabinet that was pushed against the far wall.
I went to it and pulled the indicated drawer open, finding it stuffed with manila file folders. Each one was clearly labeled and held a neatly folded map. I found one of the town and stuck it under my arm, continuing to flip through the tabs to see what else might be of use. I shouldn’t have been surprised when I found one for the tunnel system and it quickly joined the other one under my arm.
Nothing else of immediate use jumped out at me, so after closing the drawer I moved to the kitchen table so I could spread the maps out. I had to clean up the mess from my earlier weapons maintenance, then spread out the two large pieces of paper.
Both appeared to be survey maps rather then just standard commercial issue. That meant they were likely accurate, and when I checked the dates on each I was happy to see neither was more than two years old. I didn’t imagine there had been that much about Mountain Home that had changed in the past couple of years.
I stared at both of them for a while, getting my bearings. Once I understood the symbols that were being used they were easy to read. There was only one problem. I had no clue where I was on the map. Scooping them up I carried both into the surveillance room to get Titus to show me.
“Got the bastards,” he said when I walked in.
I looked at the monitor he was pointing at and saw the sniper team on the edge of the field of view.
“Excellent,” I said. “Now do me a favor and make a mark on here to show me where we are.”
I handed him the maps, careful to not set them down on top of the cigarette smoldering in an ashtray.
“And while you’re at it, mark the buildings where the two sniper teams are.”
Titus dug a red marker out of a desk drawer and peered at the town map. Soon there was a circle for us and two Xs for the sniper teams. He then placed the tunnel map on top of the town map and held them up to the light. I hadn’t realized they were the exact same scale and could be laid on top of each other for reference.
I looked up and checked on the women, but nothing new was happening with them. Part of me wanted to stand there and just look at them, but I had work to do. Taking the maps back from Titus I returned to the kitchen. He followed a few moments later.
With them layered, I was able to get a good sense of the layout of the town and could see exactly where the tunnels ran under the streets. Staring at all the converging lines and symbols, I smoked my cigarette and a plan began to take shape.
“Titus,” I started speaking without taking my attention off the maps. “I’ve seen your armory. Saw several big, locked cabinets. What all you got in there?”
I looked up and met his eyes. After a couple of moments, he grinned and motioned for me to follow. Crushing the cigarette out I followed him in, watching as he pulled a ring of keys from his pocket and unlocked all the doors.
“See for yourself,” he said, stepping out of my way.
The first cabinet was stuffed with communications gear. Not the type of stuff you can buy on eBay or Amazon. The type of stuff that a government contractor produces and has to account for every unit built and all the components that were used. In the second cabinet was body armor and night vision goggles. The third was stuffed with all kinds of things that go boom. Grenades, Claymore mines and about five pounds of C-4. Triggers and detonators filled two large, clear plastic boxes that were sealed around the lids with duct tape.
I turned and looked at Titus. This was a fucking windfall. I couldn’t wish for anything that wasn’t here. Well, I could, but a few thousand pissed off Rangers won’t fit in a storage cabinet.
“Your son-in-law?” I asked. Titus nodded and grinned.
Just about everything I was looking at was illegal for a civilian to possess. Hell it was illegal for a member of the military to possess for personal use. I was looking at about a hundred different federal felonies and several lifetimes of hard labor at Fort Leavenworth, but that was before the attacks. Now, these were what I considered the basic necessities of life.
39
Colonel Crawford and Igor moved out of the trees and onto the runway when the second Chinook helicopter was no longer within hearing range. Dog trailing in their footsteps, they walked to where Scott’s body had been left by the Russians.
“This is not how we do things,” Igor said in his native tongue as they stood looking at their dead team mate.
“Seems like it is now,” Crawford answered, stepping forward.
Bending over, he worked his hands under the body and with Igor’s help lifted it up and into his arms. He turned and carried the younger man into the forest, Igor and Dog walking on either side. Fifty yards beyond the tree line he found a small clearing and gently lowered Scott to the ground.
They didn’t have a shovel, so both men knelt in the middle of the open space and began stabbing their knives into the ground to loosen the soil. After several minutes they used their bare hands to scoop out the dirt they had turned over, then went back to work with the blades.
It was slow going, the soil turning rocky after they had gone no more than six inches. Neither man spoke, each lost in his own thoughts as they dug the grave. Dog sat to the side, close to Scott’s corpse, watching them and keeping an eye on the surrounding forest.
