by Dirk Patton
The Colonel stood in the middle of the main room on the first floor of the house, looking down at the two men he’d personally killed while the Rangers brought down the women they’d found locked in bedrooms on the second floor. While he waited, Jackson called him on the radio to let him know the four women in the barn had been executed. Crawford grimaced, taking the death of those women personally.
22
I was reaching to cut away my main canopy to go after whoever was still falling when another body flashed past me, head down and arms tight along the torso.
“Who’s still up?” I called out on the radio.
“Yee here. Scott just went after Martinez. Think she’s hypoxic.” He meant she had passed out, probably due to a malfunction of her oxygen supply. Scott had cut away from his parachute and was going after her, trying to save her.
“Steer on me, we’ll try to come down close to them.” I answered, pulling on the right toggle to go into a turn and spiral down along the same path my other two teammates were falling. I also released my pack, letting it fall to the end of a long tether and hang below me. The pack was close to 70 pounds and would hit the ground ahead of me rather than adding its weight to the impact my legs would have to absorb if I came down a little too fast.
In the civilian world, and some military jumps, there’s a piece of equipment called an Automatic Activation Device or AAD that will take control and deploy your chute at 750 feet if it’s not already open. These are commonly used on equipment drops from high altitude where you don’t want the chute opening as soon as the pallet goes out the back door of the aircraft.
I don’t like using these, and most of the guys I’ve jumped with over the years don’t either. There are reported cases of them malfunctioning and opening too high, leaving you hanging there like an idiot when you need to be much lower to maintain a degree of stealth. AADs have a built in altimeter, and I always suspected the reports of malfunctions were actually user error, the jumper having failed to properly set ground level. Regardless, none of us had one, and if Scott couldn’t catch her and release her chute very quickly he would have to deploy his reserve and let her fall to her death. Hell of a set of balls on him to do what he was doing.
“Got her!” A moment later Scott’s voice came over the radio.
“Both of you under canopy?” I asked, meaning did both of them have their chutes deployed.
“Affirmative. She’s unconscious. I’m following her down. We’re under 500. Will update when we’re on the ground.”
I looked below me, trying to spot them. It was a dark night with not much moon for light, the ground dark and the tops of their chutes even darker. I couldn’t spot them. Checking my altimeter I noted I was at 2,000 feet and a quick check of the GPS showed I was several miles off target. So much for an easy insertion.
“We’re down. Showing light now.” Scott called out. Normally, showing any light was a big no-no, but we needed to find them quickly and stay together. If we had night vision he could have flashed an IR light at us, but we didn’t so he did the next best thing and aimed a red lensed flashlight up into the air and clicked it twice. I didn’t see it, but Sergeant Yee did. Pulling on the toggles to slow my descent I let him get lower so he could lead me to Scott and Martinez.
A few seconds later our boots were on the ground, both of us making recruiting video perfect landings in the motionless air. Quickly shrugging out of my chute I passed it to Yee who added it to his before piling rocks on top of both of them. I had dropped to a knee with my rifle up, scanning the area with the scope while he concealed our gear. We planned to be gone before the sun came up, but in case we weren’t we sure didn’t want to leave a big sign behind telling the Russians that we had jumped in during the night. Rock pile complete, Yee shouldered his pack and raised his rifle. Shouldering mine I stood up.
We had come down within 50 yards of the edge of the mesa. There was enough moon and starlight for me to see the sheer drop just to our left. That was a little too close for comfort. I hand signed for Yee to take point since I still didn’t know where Scott had come down, stepping off once he had moved ten yards to our right. Leading the way up a slope, he paused at the crest to use the night vision in his rifle scope, then disappeared over the top. Following, I saw our two teammates below in a shallow depression when I reached the crest. Following Yee down, I dropped to a knee next to Scott who was leaning over Martinez. Yee stood to the side, surveying the area, a moment later returning to the crest above us and setting up watch.
Martinez lay on her back, still unconscious. Scott had removed her O2 mask and parachute and was busily performing rescue breathing. While he worked I checked over her limbs, happy to not find any broken bones. Didn’t mean there wasn’t a severe ankle or knee sprain that would hamper her movements, but we wouldn’t know that until we got her awake and on her feet.
Scott leaned back a minute later, pulled his glove off and pressed two fingers to her neck. “Pulse is good. Finally smoothed out.” He said with a note of relief in his voice. She was also breathing on her own again, her chest rising and falling regularly without the help Scott had been providing.
“I know a Colonel that’s convinced I’m crazy.” I said to Scott in a quiet voice. “I need to introduce you to him. That was some hot shit, Tech Sergeant.”
Scott flashed a grin, teeth white against the dark makeup covering his face. “I just hope she’s ok. How long do we wait before we wake her up?”
“We need to know her status, and we need to move before the sun comes up. Can’t have a Russian patrol fly over and see us running around in the daylight.” I answered. He nodded and dug through his pack for an ammonia ampule. Snapping it open he thrust it under her nose, holding it there as she regained consciousness and tried to bat his hand away. She started moaning and Scott leaned over her, placing his hand lightly on her mouth and whispering in her ear.
“Contact.” I heard Yee’s voice over the radio and as I snapped my head around he fired three shots from his rifle. They were suppressed and quiet, but he was only a dozen yards away and they were clearly audible. Signing for Scott to stay with Martinez I moved up to the crest, laying down next to Yee with just my head, shoulders and rifle above the ridge-line. Looking through my scope I spotted three bodies in the dirt fifty yards away.
“Talk to me.” I mumbled to Yee.
“Three females. They looked like they were scenting us. The one in front had her head tilted back like she was sniffing the air.” He sounded a little freaked out and I reminded myself that these three hadn’t fought the infected face to face yet.
“You sure they were infected?” I asked, still scanning the bodies through the scope.
“Yes, sir. I’m sure.” Yee sounded like I’d offended him, but I didn’t give a shit. I wasn’t worried about the possibility of him having shot survivors, I just wanted to know for sure if there were infected roaming around this far away from town. If he was going to take offense to every question I asked, he was in for a long night.
“Martinez, ready to move?” I asked over the radio. “We’ve got infected in the area.”
“Coming to you now.” Scott answered. A moment later he suddenly appeared right next to me, Martinez joining him a second later. She didn’t look too bad, considering.
“You good to go, Captain?” I asked her.
“I’m good to go, sir.”
“OK, we are…” I paused to double check my GPS. “Six point three miles from our target. Infected are in the area and we need to move fast and quiet. Scott, you’re on point. Yee, rear security. I’m on right. Let’s move.”
Scott briefly checked his GPS, then scrambled over the crest and stood up, moving off at a fast walking pace. Martinez and I fell in a few yards behind him. I was glad to see she hadn’t needed me to spell out that I wanted her on the left as we moved. Yee fell in behind us and we headed east towards town. Glancing down at the dead infected as he passed them, Scott pointed at one of the bodies but didn’t brea
k stride. A few steps behind him I looked at the body he’d identified as I walked past. It was a female, and once upon a time she’d been a Commander in the US Navy. Lots of work was done on military projects in Los Alamos and it didn’t surprise me to see the uniform. I expected to see more before the night was over.
23
Scott set the pace, and while he may not have looked like someone who could cover a lot of ground quickly, I was surprised when we’d been walking for half an hour and I looked at my GPS to find we’d covered two miles. Good pace for having maintained stealth in rugged terrain. We had encountered the occasional male, stumbling about in the dark. They were almost comical, unable to see as they navigated, continually tripping over rocks and scrub brush. We usually heard them falling before we were able to see them. I was keeping half an eye on Martinez, glad to see she seemed none the worse for wear as she easily picked off the ones in her area of responsibility.
We climbed a small hill, Scott holding up a fist to tell us to stop when he was able to see over the crest. We froze in place, listening and watching his hand as well as continually scanning our individual zones. A moment later he snapped his hand fully open, extending all five fingers before making a patting motion towards the dirt. We dropped to the ground and spread out silently. Scott had also dropped with just enough of his head above the top of the slope for him to see whatever the danger was. He watched for a moment before turning and signing me forward. I belly crawled up the slope to lay next to him, slowly raising my head to see over a small rock.
Thirty yards away a wide strip of blacktop cut through the high desert terrain. Three Humvees and two MRAPs sat in the dark, apparently abandoned. MRAPs are Mine Resistant Ambush Protected trucks that look like a Hummer and a civilian armored car had a long night of drinking and sex, giving birth to a cross between the two. They might be ugly, but they were tougher than up-armored Hummers and could take a lot of punishment. But the vehicles weren’t why Scott had called a halt. It was the large group of infected that milled around amongst them.
I did a quick head count. Seven males and five females. Carefully I raised my rifle, using the night vision to check each vehicle for occupants. Finding none, I redid my count, coming up with the same numbers, then scanned the surrounding area. Four more males were struggling through the desert 100 yards to my front, attracted to the sounds the group below was making, but other than that I didn’t see anything.
I wanted one of those MRAPs. We would be secure from the infected and there was plenty of room to carry the SADMs we were here to retrieve. But how closely were the Russians watching the area? Had they already checked and found it overrun with infected? If so, were they doing routine flyovers that would spot a moving vehicle? I had no way of knowing, and no way of finding out without taking a chance. Making a decision, I waved Yee and Martinez up to the top of the slope with us, outlining my plan when they arrived. With nods all around that everyone understood, we started spreading out.
When they were in position I gave the execute order over the radio. Four rifles fired nearly simultaneously and four of the five females dropped dead to the road. Shifting aim to the fifth I cursed as all I saw was her hair billow behind her as she threw herself behind the protection of a Hummer. Los Alamos had been the victim of the secondary outbreak caused by the virus, and that meant the females here were the smart ones. The males weren’t any smarter regardless of primary or secondary outbreak, so we started dropping them as they stood there looking around like drunks at closing time on a Saturday night.
Letting myself think this was going to go off smoothly, other than the one female, I spun when I heard a rock tumbling down the slope behind me. A pack of females was running up the slope, the one in the lead no more than five yards away. She saw me turn and screamed. Bringing my rifle around I knew I wasn’t going to get a shot off in time to stop her, but someone was looking out for me. The female slipped on some lose rocks, going to a knee and giving me time to get my rifle up and shoot her through the head.
I didn’t need to warn the others, the screams of the lead female having done that quite effectively. More females were charging in, some of them screaming as they raced towards us through the night. I shot two more before they were too close and I had to drop the rifle and draw my Kukri to defend myself.
A female leapt, arms extended with hands held like talons to tear into my throat. I was just able to get the Kukri up between us and she impaled herself on the blade. If I was a rookie I would have expected that to stop her, but I knew by now that while she would eventually die from the wound, she certainly wasn’t out of the fight yet. Jamming my forearm under her chin to fend off her snapping teeth, I pulled the Kukri out of her body and stabbed again from the side, up through her rib cage, severing her heart.
Shoving the body off of me I flinched to the side as another charged in, slashing open her throat and severing her windpipe. Letting the momentum of the swing continue I rolled and came to my feet just as another female arrived. This one came to a stop five feet in front of me and stood there staring at me. What the fuck?
I was panting from the exertion and adrenalin in my system, surprised into immobility by this totally unexpected behavior. We just stood there, staring at each other for a few long heartbeats. Her red eyes flicked between my face and the large blade in my hand. She was filthy, covered in dirt and blood, some of it fresh and some dried onto her skin and clothing. Neither young nor old, I guessed she was around 40, and still wore what had once been a white lab coat. Time stretched out as neither of us made a move. I could hear my teammates fighting on either side of me, both suppressed rifle and pistol fire, but I was rooted in place by the odd behavior of this female. Unnerved might be a better way of saying it.
“Can you understand me?” I spoke in a low, even voice. The female’s eyes widened slightly when I spoke, but she stayed in place. I didn’t know what to do. Was she trying to communicate? Was that even possible any longer? Max had said that the females that were infected by the virus retained their higher brain functions. Did that mean they might still be able to speak? This all went through my mind in a fraction of a second, realization dawning on me when I heard a sound to my rear and the females eyes flicked up to look over my shoulder.
“Clever girl.” I said.
I charged her, Kukri at chest level, ready to tear into her throat. Being upslope, I had the added benefit of gravity, and as fast as the females are, she wasn’t fast enough. Covering the five feet in less than the blink of an eye I rammed the blade home before she could do more than open her mouth to scream. I kept my legs churning and shoved her body aside, running to the bottom of the slope before suddenly changing direction to my right. The female that had been sneaking up behind me had followed me down the slope, finally screaming when I juked away from her attack. She tried to slow and change direction to follow me, but there was a lot of loose rock at the bottom of the slope. Her feet went out from under her and I fell on top, stabbing into the back of her head with the Kukri.
Back on my feet I looked up the slope to check on the rest of my team. Martinez finished off a female with a dagger thrust into the eye that was one of the fastest moves with a blade I had ever seen. The infected dropped at her feet and the battle was over. Scott and Yee had both killed the last females attacking them, each with four bodies on the ground surrounding them. Yee held his left arm and Scott moved to him to check the injury as I climbed back up the slope.
“Nothing serious.” Scott reported after checking Yee. “One of them tried to bite a chunk out of his arm but couldn't get through his clothing. A little damage to his forearm but he's combat ready.”
Nodding acknowledgement I turned to check on Martinez. I was surprised to find seven dead females on the ground where she had been fighting. She met my eyes and for the first time gave me a real smile.
“Damn, Captain. Try to leave some for the rest of us next time.” I said and smiled back.
24
Rachel and Dog
stood on the tarmac at the West Memphis airport, staring west as the sun sank towards the horizon. There was maybe two hours of daylight left. Lindsey and Madison were inside the control tower, sleeping wrapped around each other on Colonel Crawford’s bunk. They were exhausted, having fallen asleep on the short helicopter ride to the airport after Jackson had rescued them. By the time Rachel had arrived on a different Black Hawk, Mrs. Maybach had carried the girls inside, commandeering the Colonel’s temporary quarters.
Crawford and Jackson had left a couple of hours ago with a large contingent of Rangers. Rachel had wanted to accompany them, not one to be content with being left behind, but the Colonel had told her in no uncertain terms that she was not welcome on a military operation. He had softened it a bit by reminding her that if he took her along and something happened to her, there would be one very upset Major to deal with. Rachel had laughed, understanding the man’s position, but still not liking it.
And where was John? What was he doing? All they would tell her was that he was on a mission, something to do with the Russians. She was still in a state of disbelief over that bit of news. Dog whined and Rachel followed his gaze to see Max propelling himself in his wheelchair across the tarmac towards where she stood. A moment later he rolled up and scratched Dog between the ears.
“Good to see you back with us.” He said, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. Rachel thought about asking for one, but she didn’t really like the damn things.
“It’s good to be back.” She answered with a smile.
“Any word on Roach?” He asked. Rachel just shook her head. She hoped the son of a bitch had drowned in the river. Better yet, she hoped he’d washed up on the eastern shore and been ripped to shreds by the infected. She tried to think of how John would say it, but could only come up with hoping Roach was nothing more than infected poop by now. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
