Unto The Breach

by John Ringo

  "The ladies are off packing duty so I've got all five nights," Mike pointed out. "If I can get these three done tonight and the next two days that's two nights of rest. I'll be mission capable. But fuck this is frustrating."

  "Get some rest . . ."

  "If you haven't got your health . . ." Mike continued. "Yeah. I will. You just make sure the teams are dialed in. I'll be there with bells on. And solid routes."

  ". . . And set the autopilot," Marek said over the intercom. "There. Now we can go to sleep until we reach Bratislava."

  The Hinds had been outfitted with auxiliary fuel tanks slung under the dual pylons. With those and the improved engines they had a range of a bit over a thousand kilometers. Plenty of range to reach L'yiven Ukraine after flying partially over Southern Poland. And at 310 kilometers per hour cruising speed, it was going to be a bit over three hours to get there. Have lunch, refuel, back in the bird, repeat as necessary. Two and a half days to get to the Valley of the Keldara.

  Two and a half days, and two nights, mostly alone with Marek. Crap.

  "I think I'm going to stay up," Kacey replied, smiling. "Just in case any big birds decide to hit us."

  "The intakes are armored," Marek said with a grin in his voice. "It will take more than a goose to crash one of these."

  "How about a Cessna?" Kacey said. "Nearly hit one of those one time. Guy was in a no-fly zone. No civilians, anyway. He nearly got taken down three ways, me, a SAM site and an F-16. They eventually had me fly back and explain to him that he needed to land. I don't think he even got jail time. I hope they at least pulled his license."

  "I had actually wondered if you wished to work the bird a bit more," Marek said. "Your employer is, after all, paying me for instruction time even now."

  "Love to," Kacey replied, taking the Hind off autopilot. "My bird. I need as much stick time as I can get."

  "I take it you mean flying," Marek said. "But, yes, there is no such thing as enough 'stick time.'–"

  "Especially this time," Kacey said, raising an eyebrow at the comment. So far Marek had been so sans peur an instructor pilot he qualified for the endangered species list. "When we get back we have to go straight into ops. High altitude, most of it night, most of it tactical. Training ops with the Georgian military."

  "You're kidding," Marek said, seriously. "You are very good with the bird but . . . That is not easy flying. I take it you told your employer to blow it."

  "Actually, I said 'Yes, Kildar,' saluted and flew to the Czech Republic," Kacey replied.

  "For a training operation?" Marek said, sarcastically. "He wishes to buy two new helicopters, and training for new pilots, so soon. And I would have thought you had more sense."

  "I do," Kacey said. "Marek? Let's just fly the bird. I think we need to get Tammy and Dominick on the horn and do a little follow-the-leader."

  "I agree," Marek said. "Slowly at first, though. Later I will show you just what this bird can do. Perhaps we play hide-and-seek, yes?"

  "What, you planning on hiding?" Kacey said, making sure the intercom was off.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  "Sergeant Vanner," Jeseph said, his voice pitched low, "I have found a hide point for the jump gear."

  "Good," Vanner said, bent over Ivar's ankle. The shooter was the only one of the five who had managed to find a bad spot to land, a rock he hadn't seen until the last moment. It looked like it was only a sprain, but it was a bad sprain and they really needed to unass the DZ. Fortunately, Vanner had just gotten done wrapping it. "Julia, you, Jeseph and Olga get started on caching the gear then catch up with us. We're going to get off this DZ. I'll help Ivar."

  "I can walk," Ivar said, his face working with pain.

  "Yep, and you're gonna have to," Vanner said, raising his voice against a rising wind. He really had to work for the air. They'd taken drugs to help with altitude sickness but it didn't make the air any thicker. "With your ruck. I'll just be trying to take some of the weight off. Jeseph, give me a hand getting him up and the ruck on his back. Then we'll move out. Follow the route on your GPS. We're moving to point 478. We'll set up camp somewhere around there. And hurry. That storm's nearly here."

  "Yes, Sergeant," Jeseph said. The wind threw his parka hood up and he pushed it back, looking around nervously. "This storm is going to be bad, Sergeant. I can smell the snow."

  "Don't lose us," Vanner said. "Walk in through the beginning of the snow if you have to. I've got the dome tent, worse comes to worst we can all bed in there."

  "Fortunately, it's all downhill from here," Vanner said as they crested the ridgeline. Getting the Keldara up from the small valley that had shielded the DZ from observation had been no joke. "There's some rocks I spotted on the sat map for a possible assembly area. We'll take a hide there."

  "I am not sure which is worse," Ivar said, wincing and grabbing at one of the spindly fir trees that covered the slope. They were right up at the woodline, and the ground was already covered by a thin dusting of snow. Some of it had melted away but there were plenty of patches to slip on in shadow. And they were hard to see with the night vision goggles. Unfortunately, the clouds preceding the storm had already arrived and the night was black as pitch. NVGs were a necessity.

  "Uphill," Vanner said.

  He paused and let the Keldara lean on one of the trees then picked up the thermal imager he'd left hanging around his neck and swept the slope below. He'd gotten over the crest as fast as possible and now hunkered down to make sure they were alone in the area. He saw a couple of heat forms, but they had the look of animals. He didn't see any heat coming from the cluster of boulders and that was the important part.

  "Let's move," Vanner said, taking Ivar's arm again.

  The Keldara shuffled forward at his maximum safe speed and they began their creep down the ridge.

  "Almost there."

  "Careful cresting the ridge," Jeseph said. "Go across low and sideways. Less silhouette."

  "Okay," Julia said, sliding forward.

  She could barely see anything in the night-vision goggles. The lenses had gotten fogged and then frozen so she was looking through a distorted foggy picture. For that matter it was starting to snow, big, thick, flakes. Something about the wind, though, the smell and the size of the flakes told her that it was about to storm like mad. They needed to get to shelter, fast. She slid on a patch of snow and went down on her butt just as she reached the far side of the ridgeline.

  "Damn."

  "Up you get," Jeseph said, lifting her and the pack. "No lying down on the job. That's for after your wedding night."

  "Like you'll ever know, Jeseph Mahona," Julia said, quietly, but she let loose a half-stifled giggle.

  "Take a knee," Jeseph said. "Face east. Olga, west." He pulled his thermal imagers out and looked down the slope. "There's the sergeant. They made good time." He paused and looked around some more. "Nobody else."

  "Then let's . . ." she said just as a gust of wind caught them. The wind tore the words out of her mouth it was so strong and in a second Jeseph, only a meter or two from her, disappeared in a wall of snow.

  "Julia!" Jeseph screamed.

  "Stay there!" Julia yelled back. This wasn't just a snowfall, this was a blizzard, one of the fast-moving ones of the early winter. The snow might all thaw tomorrow but tonight it was going to drop a ton. And they were caught in the middle of it. She had been living in these mountains her whole life but she'd never been this far from any shelter as she was right now. One of her cousins had been caught out in a storm like this and died. They had to get to Vanner and get some shelter set up. Or, possibly, just set it up right here, she wasn't sure which. She suddenly realized, to her horror, that the decision was hers.

  She shuffled in the direction she remembered Jeseph being in and felt his body through the thick gloves. At that range, even through her fogged glasses, she could see him.

  "Olga?" she shouted in his ear.

  "There!" Jeseph said, pointing then looking through the thermal
imagers. "Yes, there!"

  "Go!"

  Olga had hunkered down and waited. Smart girl.

  "Thought we'd lost you for a second," Julia yelled.

  "I was going to give you twenty minutes," Olga yelled back. "What now, Jeseph?"

  "We move," Julia yelled.

  "Agreed," Jeseph replied. "Julia's call and I agree. We have the GPS, we have the thermal imager. We can find them."

  "Jeseph, you lead," Julia said. "I'll take the GPS. Olga, check me. Hold onto my pack, I'll hold Jeseph's. Let's roll!"

  "I've got it, Ivar," Vanner shouted. "You just keep checking for the rest of the team."

  "We could call," Ivar yelled.

  "Not on your life!" Vanner shouted. "We'd have to broadcast. Now shut up and watch!"

  Vanner had set up a dome tent before, but never on solid rock and in a howling blizzard. He'd gotten the damned thing unrolled but it had nearly been snatched out of his hands twice so far. If they lost it, it would have a number of bad consequences starting with the possibility of the Chechens finding it and continuing through "lack of shelter."

  He finally managed to get one side tied off to one of the boulders that they were sheltered in. With that side tied off he could manage it better. One bit of ground would take a stake. Another tie-off. Finally he got all six points anchored and added a couple of anchors, groping through the driving snow, to make sure it stayed in place.

  That done he started threading the poles. The snow was piling up so fast he nearly lost one of them but groping finally dredged it up. When the last one was stuffed into the loops and the tent up he grabbed his pack and tossed it inside then went to approximately where he recalled Ivar being.

  "It's up!"

  "I still don't see them," Ivar shouted back.

  "They'll make it or they won't," Vanner said. "They've got gear for this, too. We need to get in the tent!"

  Vanner got Ivar up and over to where he recalled the tent being. But it wasn't there.

  "Oh, tell me it didn't already blow away," Vanner said then shook his head. He'd tossed his pack in it on purpose. It had to be here somewhere.

  He and Ivar shuffled forward carefully and then Vanner sprawled on the ground, fortunately not taking Ivar with him.

  "Found one of the tie-downs!" Vanner yelled. He felt along the tie-down and then saw the ghostly outline of the tent. "Here!"

  When they were finally inside, Vanner let out a breath of relief.

  "Safe, by God."

  "Sergeant," Ivar said, diffidently. "My pack is back where you found me. I only say that because it has my fartsack in it. I don't think you want to share."

  "Fuck."

  Jeseph saw the boulder before he hit it with his nose, but only just.

  "What?" Julia yelled.

  "I think we're there," Jeseph said, scanning with the thermal imagers. It seemed to him that the picture had gotten dimmer, but it might be the snow. "I don't see them, though."

  "Move into them," Julia said, trying to look around through the spotty NVGs. "They have to be here somewhere!"

  "They could have gotten lost as well," Olga noted helpfully.

  They wandered into the rock pile and after tripping several times and nearly slipping off a boulder they hadn't even realized they were climbing Julia let out an exasperated sigh.

  "Where are they?"

  "I don't know," Jeseph yelled back. "But we have to do something!"

  "We make camp," Julia said after a moment. "Try to find a reasonably flat spot! We'll put up one of the tunnel tents! We need to find somewhere to tie it off!"

  "Where am I going to sleep?" Jeseph yelled.

  "What happens on the mission . . ."

  "The wind has died," Ivar said, nudging Vanner.

  "I noticed," Vanner said, quietly. It was what had awakened him.

  He and Ivar had taken two-hour shifts, sleeping and waking, hoping against hope that the rest of the team would show up. It was pre-dawn and the howling blizzard had finally started to die. Now if the rest of the team just hadn't. But, they were smart and had nearly as good gear. The only difference was they had the tunnel tents.

  Vanner kicked at the front of the tent where he could see snow had mounded up and then stuck his head out. The snow was still falling thickly but mostly straight down. It had dropped about a foot and a half overnight, with more drifted up against the rocks. The tent had a drift up against the side and front that was nearly three feet thick.

  Vanner looked around cautiously then ducked back in and pulled out his NVGs.

  "Nothing," he said quietly.

  "They might still be on the back trail," Ivar said, just as quietly.

  Vanner sighed and shrugged on his heavy coat; he'd kept most of the rest of the gear on. The temperature had dropped precipitously but he left the balaclava and hood down. He needed his ears as well as his eyes.

  He slid out of the tent, negotiating the snowpack, and stood up with the snow up to his waist. Another look around with the NVGs then he reached in and pulled out the thermals. Looking on the back trail he couldn't see any sign of the team.

  "Fuck," he muttered. He did not want to broadcast.

  He walked back the way they'd come, stumbling over Ivar's pack in the process. He'd dragged it over to the tent, gotten out the Keldara's sleeping bag and then left the ruck near the entrance. It was so covered in snow he hadn't seen it until he tripped over it.

  "Found your ruck," he called, turning around.

  "I was wondering when you'd look behind you," Julia said, grinning. She had a thermal imaging sight hanging around her neck.

  "How'd you get past us?" Vanner asked.

  "I really have no idea," Julia admitted with another grin. "But I'm just about standing on our tent. We're set up about three meters from each other."

  "Our tent?" Vanner said. "Where's Jeseph?"

  "Asleep," Julia said. "In the tent. With Olga."

  "With . . ."

  "Hey, don't ask, don't tell . . ."

  Kacey drove the Hind down the twisting river valley so close to the surface that the rotors were kicking up spray on the banks.

  "Hoo-rah!" she shouted.

  "I don't think Dominick is keeping up," Marek said, a grin in his voice. "Drive it, girl."

  They were in the second day of the ferry flight and, given that they were making good time, Marek had declared a one hour game of hide and seek. Kacey was given a box she had to stay in and a three minute head start. The kicker was that it wasn't Tammy driving the search bird, it was Dominick, the other IP.

  "This is like flying a fucking Kiowa," Kacey said. "These things used to be pigs. This is awesome."

  "We are low," Marek pointed out. "The air is thick. Higher . . . less maneuverability."

  "Got that," Kacey said, glancing in the rearview. "I still don't have him."

  "Twenty minutes until we're done with the exercise," Marek said. "But he's not necessarily following. He could have cut one of the bends."

  "Yeah," Kacey replied, looking ahead. There was a fork in the river that went left. "Marek, what's the chart say about that turn?"

  "Narrow," Marek said, tersely. "But still inside the box. Want me to take it?"

  "My bird," Kacey said, banking into the tributary. She instantly recognized that it was much narrower than the main river: the trees that overhung it barely cleared her rotor cone. "Crap."

  "As I said. Narrow."

  Kacey pulled the helo into an in-ground-effect hover and looked forward. The damned channel only got narrower. Looking up she realized she'd drifted under the trees in slowing; the branches now extended over her rotor cone.

  "Double crap. Marek?"

  "Your bird, hotshot," the IP said, easily.

  No way to go up. No way to turn around. No way to go forward. That only left two choices; ditching the bird in the river or backing up. Of course, the channel twisted slightly so it wasn't exactly straight back. Fortunately, Hinds had a rearview mirror.

  She pulled back o
n the stick and tilted the rotor gently to the rear. The increased angle had her chipping some branch-tips, but nothing unsurvivable.

  Backing down to the joining, she got enough room she could go up or turn around. So she carefully spun in place then looked at the main river. The other Hind had a five-hundred-foot maximum so they could run down the river at height, looking for them. But they couldn't just perch like a falcon.