Discoveries (Mercenaries Book 5)

by Tony Lavely

  Elena turned but Beckie lost interest in what she and Tarquin were doing in favor of avoiding rocks and ruts that would hang the truck up, probably permanently. After a short eternity arguing with the steering and brakes, she drove onto a ledge that continued for several yards; she spent a glance across the cab. Tarquin’s legs were inside, but his torso… he had planted his butt on the window sill and now she recalled the several reports her mind hadn’t bothered with. Another round. Elena’s hand gripped Tarquin’s body armor’s fastener to keep him part of the crew as the truck…

  Damn! I better watch where we’re going.

  Crossing to the road took a few more seconds, and in another half-minute, she heard Tarquin shout, “Off to the left and in a bit, you’ll see the rocks. Stop there.”

  The ground was mostly rocks for this trip; Beckie had to slam on the brakes as she rounded a boulder and found herself aimed at a fall of largish stones. “I guess we’re here,” she gasped.

  “Good job,” Elena said. “Now, if we can get Tark outta the window…”

  Quickly, they dismounted and arming themselves, started up the slope to approach the cache entrance from above. “Get going!” Beckie demanded when Elena appeared to be waiting for her, and both she and Tarquin scampered off, although she could keep them in sight for the first several minutes. Alone, she could grimace and try to find a comfortable position for the extra magazines and the AK-47 she carried.

  However, her ribs didn’t give sufficient discomfort to keep her from watching both her step, and the territory for likely hostiles, since Leonid wouldn’t have made that mistake. She found nothing out of the ordinary. Rocks and more rocks. Except where sand broke up the scene!

  After five or so minutes of climbing, she passed a large boulder and turned to follow the ridge-line. Ahead and a little further down the hill, Tarquin and Elena were working their way along. Their progress seemed to Beckie to be slow… torturous, even, as if…

  She heard a muffled Pop, a suppressed weapon if I ever heard one! Both Tarquin and Elena dove to get under cover. Beckie eased in behind a rock to avoid drawing attention, and examined the crest and the bank down toward them. There! Two light-brown-gray shalwar kameez wearing men almost blended in with the stones they lay among. Kinda surprised they didn’t go full-automatic… Wonder why? She settled her helmet, which reminded her she’d not brought a radio. Damn!

  After another half-minute, she eased her head up, searching for the hostiles’ partners. Nothing. It’s a long shot, Beck, with an unfamiliar weapon. Wanna chance it? Sure. At least, it’ll keep their heads down and tell Tark and Lena where they are.

  Flipping the mode switch back to single shot, she squirmed around until she found a perch to rest the barrel, sighted allowing for the unknown drop over the not quite five hundred-yard range and squeezed the trigger. A slight adjustment to find the second target; a second squeeze. She dropped back behind her rock.

  Well, that went better than I had any right to expect. The first round fell a couple yards short, but between the ricochet and the shattered stone fragments, both of the men were taken unawares, though substantially uninjured. One of them, however, had sprung up and the second round caught him in the shoulder. It spun him out of their hidey-hole and tossed him down the hill a few feet.

  Beckie peeked down at Tarquin and Elena; they’d both reacted to the report and were examining the slope above them for Beckie’s target. She decided to keep her hands and head down; they don’t need to know where I am, and neither do the bad guys!

  She’d barely made that decision when motion against the sky caught her eye. As she began to swing the AK around, she stopped. That’s… He’s in camo. It’s one of our guys… Fabien? Fabien! Fabien kept low, working his way down to the shalwar-kameez-wearing man. Of course! He and Tark are using the radio.

  She continued to watch while Fabien immobilized both the hostiles, then inched his way down to Tarquin and Elena. After another minute while they carefully surveyed the hillside, Beckie lifted her head, then waved.

  Elena noticed her first; the move she made suggested the woman was convinced Beckie was injured or damaged in some way. Beckie almost stood, but grabbed herself by the neck and shook. Don’t be stupid! You want to be a target? She settled for signing Elena she was okay; stay back under cover.

  After another pause waiting for a hostile to appear, she crawled out and began inching her way down to her team. Fabien preceded the others on a crawl toward her; they met in a shallow crevasse.

  “Thanks,” Beckie panted. “I’m fine,” she answered the others. “Too much excitement. I was thinking… Have we seen anyone actually headed toward the cache? Like, opening it?” Tarquin shook his head. “Maybe… Could they have been hoping we’d show ’em where it is?”

  “Leonid said he saw four or five go over the ridge top,” Fabien said.

  Tarquin inched up to peer past the cache’s door’s location. “The chine continues another kilometer or so. If Mrs. Jamse’s right, they could have spread out looking for either the opening or for us to lead them.”

  “Okay.” Beckie reached for her ponytail, but changed her mind about digging it out of her shirt and the armor. “Let’s keep watch another five or so minutes. Then, we’ll head back to the truck, taking the injured guy with us.” She shook her head. “Which means we take them both.”

  “Yeah. Otherwise…”

  Beckie nodded, a little morose. Otherwise we shoot them both. “Let Leonid know what’s going on over here. Ask him to keep a watch on this side.”

  Slow as she was, Beckie reached the truck first. Elena, harrying the uninjured hostile, followed. Together, they secured the man, who’d so far evinced no desire to fight, in the bed of the truck. She sent Elena up the slope to cover Tarquin and Fabien, slowly working their way along with the injured man.

  As Beckie stared, Elena reached a good vantage point and made a gesture which Beckie assumed was to Tarquin; he was out of her field of view.

  Beckie stood and then stepped up into the truck’s cab. When Elena signed “All clear, but keep watch,” Beckie signaled her acknowledgement.

  While Beckie’s heart jumped into her throat every time she saw a hint of motion, Elena kept still.

  One of the Golden eagles? Or the top of Tark’s head? Or Fabien’s?

  Finally, Elena waved, then signed that they were returning.

  “Bring the truck over here,” Tarquin called as he and Fabien carried the body down the slope. In a minute, she’d wrangled the truck around, backing it in where Tarquin and Fabien were standing. She looked for Elena as she slid off the seat and rushed to help the men get the injured man into the bed. Elena remained in her position, still covering them.

  While Fabien worked on the injured man, Tarquin said, “Leonid says take him to hospital.”

  “Not to the base? We could maybe get some info⁠—”

  Tarquin held up his hand while he conversed with the radio. Finally, he said, “Leonid agrees, but we can only interrogate him if he’s awake before the Levies arrive. Afterward, they’ll take him.”

  “The other guy, though?”

  “Yeah, we can talk to him.”

  Beckie nodded. “You ready, Fabien?”

  He nodded and Tarquin took his rifle to cover Elena as she skittered down the hillside.

  Beckie climbed back into the truck; she gingerly turned to watch Fabien through the rear window. He worked quickly, bandaging and securing the injured man.

  Suddenly, a report snapped Beckie’s head around.

  Before she focused, she heard a second shot and saw Elena lurch, out of control. Both arms went up and the woman was thrown forward, down the slope in a cloud of dust.

  “Hold!” Fabien interrupted Beckie’s thought of racing to Elena’s side.

  “What?” But he had jumped from the truck bed, and Beckie now saw Tarquin leading the way up the hillside to Elena.

  She caught her breath; Elena waved her left arm at Tarquin.

  “
She’s alive! And conscious, too!” Beckie dropped the rest of the way to the ground and hurried to the back of the truck, staying to the side away from the shooter.

  Tarquin reached Elena first, but as soon as Fabien dropped beside them, Tarquin scurried up the slope. Beckie lifted her rifle and kept watch along the crest. Lotta good it’ll do, though. Sure didn’t see anyone before Elena… no reason to ignore it, though.

  Tarquin reached the crest and worked his way along it, moving from cover to cover. After five or so minutes, he indicated “No one here, now,” and slid and skated down to where Fabien was getting Elena vertical again. With two helpers, the task went better.

  Elena’s face was white, except for a couple of splashes and smears of blood. When they’d reached the level ground, Tarquin left them and jumped atop a large boulder. “You cover them from there, Mrs. Jamse; I’ll watch from here.” Beckie nodded and took her position, standing on the front bumper.

  “You need any help?” she called to Fabien once he’d gotten Elena to the truck.

  “No. Shoulder wound. She can sit up, so I’ll put her inside.” Fabien helped Elena into the front seat, then dropped back to the ground. Beckie glanced at him as he headed toward Tarquin, then quickly opened the door and focused on Elena, who was trying to get comfortable.

  “What are you doing, girl?” Beckie said. “I just get you back and here you’re getting⁠⁠—”

  “Not my plan, for sure. Give me a hand, here.”

  They worked together for a few more seconds arranging Elena in the seat. Beckie slammed Elena’s helmet back on in response to a flurry of shots from the hillside. After patting Elena’s arm, she grabbed her AK and slid back out the door, crawling under the truck for cover.

  The flurry had ended; she ignored Elena’s angry voice calling her. Scrunching down, she went to the tailgate and quickly checked the hostiles; they had no fresh wounds. Up on the hillside, Fabien and Tarquin were down behind convenient rocks, peering at something along the crest.

  Beckie held her weapon in the ready position, picked out a rock about ten yards away to land beside, then raced to it. A couple of short bursts as she ran would help Fab and Tark.

  Her ribs gave her a brilliant reminder why she should have listened to Elena; Fabien and Tark must have heard that gasp! A small shower of stone chips sprayed over her; she pressed herself even closer to the ground and the rock, then turned her head to observe.

  Farther past Tark and Fabien, on the ridge… that guy’s got a…

  The directed flame made an excellent case for an RPG; she threw her head back down just as the rock slammed into her side and her hearing vanished in an explosion. Her mouth was full of dust and stone chips; they were all she could smell. Her eyes did open, but the ground hadn’t settled, everything was dark and gritty. As she watched, thinking about raising her head, the air cleared and aches began to torment her again.

  She decided to move. Not her right arm; something held it down, immobile, Okay, left arm then. She twitched it, gratified to see dirt fall off. Left leg… okay. Right leg. Hmm. Weighed down. She tried a push-up to get off the ground but that didn’t work. Still can’t hear anything, and… Oh! If I turn my head…

  Fabien slid to a stop beside her, on the rock that now lay atop her. Her cry of pain as his weight added to the stone’s warned him and he jumped to her left side. She could see his mouth moving, but she had no audio. While the visual lacked definition through the dust, she thought it good that she couldn’t hear; Fabien looked as angry as she’d ever seen anyone.

  She tried to shout back that she couldn’t hear, and he shook his head, then looked up the hillside again. He signed keep still⁠—as if I could move!⁠—and ran to the truck. After a couple seconds rummaging next to the injured hostile, he returned carrying a trenching tool. He dug for a minute or two, and she yanked her arm and leg out from under the boulder, then sat up. Hearing began to return, but it lacked fidelity.

  However, she could understand Tarquin when he scrambled down to say, “It’s all clear above.”

  Fabien was watching her when she smiled at Tarquin’s words; he hollered, “What were you thinking, Mrs. Jamse? You get your husband back and you want to commit suicide!” He apparently started to loop over the same objection, becoming less and less intelligible.

  “Fabien. Fabien… Fab! Shut up! Be quiet for a second. No, I’m not trying to get myself, or you, or anyone, killed. But if I can support you guys, I have to do that. I expected to cover you.” She sat up a little straighter. “I didn’t expect an RPG to be waiting up there. What was it?”

  “It was a damn fine thing you found cover here,” Tarquin said, fingering the blast mark on the side of the stone away from her. “Type 69. And he and his loader were the last ones lying in wait. Now…” He reached out his hand. “… let’s all of us head to the truck and depart these rocky prominences.” He glanced at Fabien, who shook his head again and took Beckie’s other hand to help her to stand.

  Beckie staggered once, then twisted against the pain in her ribs to stare at the crest. “You’re sure no one’s left, then?”

  “Right.”

  “No one’s injured up there?”

  “No. With an RPG⁠—”

  “Take no chances,” Fabian said.

  “Right.” She sighed at the obvious implication, then said, “If you’ve calmed a bit, Fab, I’m sorry to have scared you like that.” And that’s all I’ll say about that. But I did draw him out… It’s not about you, Beck!

  “Our fault for⁠—”

  “No, dammit! It’s not your fault any more than it is mine.” Beckie settled the helmet on her head, then took it off to gaze critically at the chunk of rock piercing the metal and rubbing the liner. “That’s what I felt. Hope Leonid’s got a spare.” She pulled free of their hands and took a couple of steps toward the truck. “Well, com’on. Lena’s already pissed at me; you guys are too, and time’s a-wasting. We still have to talk to them.” She waved at the truck.

  She watched with an internal grin as the two men gawked at her, then shared some kind of look. She wanted to spin on her foot, but decided, with her ribs and ringing ears and who knew what else, she’d better just turn normally. Slowly. Carefully.

  Elena probably had been beside herself, Beckie decided as the woman snatched her into the cab and looked her over for missing limbs⁠—Or a missing head, maybe!⁠—but the rocket had dispelled her anger, and the replacement worries hadn’t quite faded. She fended off Elena’s concern. “Tonight, after Fabien tells Leonid just what happened, you can all get together and chastise me to your hearts’ content. You can even get Ian involved. But right now… Tark, give me directions.”

  She started the truck and steered over the rock toward the road.

  Three: Negotiations

  Beckie ignored the others’ mumbling as she guided the truck back down the hill. Her head still rang, a little, and the truck wanted to push a lot on the loose stones, so she had to keep correcting its course.

  However, when she reached the road, everything except her ears worked better; she built her speed to eighty klicks.

  Whoops! She felt a hand on her shoulder… Fabien used his hand to signal slow down. Yeah, got through the first one, no need to tempt fate. Now, can I hear well enough to carry on a conversation? “Fabien. Remember the guy I shot, the one we brought back after that guy tried to shoot me? Al-Shazar? What happened to him?”

  Fabien’s voice was faint, but louder than the truck on the road. “We still have him. He didn’t want to leave.”

  Beckie shook her head. Did I hear that right? “Say that again, please?”

  It sounded just the same, but louder.

  “Has he talked at all?”

  “Not anything you’d care about.” He reached over the seat to pat her arm. “We get Elena and the guy in the back patched up, we’ll visit him in his flowered bower.”

  Guess he’s gotten over being mad at me. “Cool.”

  Elena tapped her ar
m, not as gently as Fabien. “And then, Miss Rebecca, we’ll have a little come-to-Jesus meeting. All of us.”

  Guess she hasn’t. Based on the vehemence of their agreement, maybe Fab and Tark aren’t as over it as I hoped!

  Except for the truck’s complaints, the trip to the base was silent. Beckie stopped behind another truck she thought she recognized. “Is that⁠—”

  “Lyeka’s, right,” Tarquin said.

  “Good,” Beckie said. “Hmm. How’d he get ahead of us, I wonder?” No one answered so she slid off the seat and hustled around to Elena’s door. “If you guys can get him in…” She nodded at the injured hostile in the bed. “I’ll help Lena. Leave the other one for… I’ll get Lyeka to come get him.”

  “Right,” Tarquin replied as Fabien hopped up into the bed.

  Elena gave her a dark look, but accepted her shoulder as she slid out of the truck; the two of them supported each other as they hobbled to the front door.

  “We do make a fine pair, don’t we?” Beckie said with a wry twist to her expression.

  “We do. But we’ve not been defeated, have we?” She stopped inside when Beth came out of the kitchen area holding two cups.

  “Looked like you two could use this. Leonid even added some of his… special brew. Not much, there’s still work to do!” in response to Beckie’s dubious expression. “Get in there and sit down; I’m going to see what I can do to help Fab and Tark.”

  Those two carried the wounded man through on the way to one of the back rooms; Beth tracked in behind them.

  “You know, Beckie,” Elena said, “you don’t have to try and one-up everyone who gets injured. How’s your head? Was it a plan or your patented dumb luck that the rock you chose didn’t shatter and kill you when the grenade hit?”

  Beckie snickered. No point in getting all… whatever with her again. I just got her back; not gonna drive her away again! “I’m going with ten percent planning⁠—I did look for a safer place⁠—but ninety percent was my dumb luck, I’m sure. And not to be argumentative, my Jedi Master, but I ran out there not because you’d been hit, but because you couldn’t go. The plan was, like I said, to cover them. Didn’t expect to draw an RPG, for sure!”