"Then let's get all these people back and prepare for the drop. It's about to get busy."
"Yes, sir."
Tom shook his head at the exchange, while simultaneously thanking whatever higher power was in existence.
*****
Rodriguez was waiting when Nancy came out of their makeshift surgery. Seeing the expression on her face, he already knew that some of the news would be bad. They had pulled in all the outlying groups they'd identified, including those who'd come forth in the last battle to provide a united front, and to say it was crowded beyond belief was an understatement. Nance came to him, wrapping her arms around him while burying her face against his broad chest.
"Hey hey chica, I can tell there's bad news."
"We lost two, babe. I couldn't save them. I tried but there were so many to treat and I'm not a doctor." His Nance was crying now, and Dennis held on tightly as sobs wracked her body.
"You're all we have, Hun. You did your best. I love you."
"Oh my God, I love you too, but I feel so useless. We needed a full surgical team. No, at least four. We had two bleeding out fast, and my trainees couldn't stop it. I was suturing intestines and I couldn't be in three places at once. It was a nightmare. I've never felt so helpless in my life except for the day we escaped Moberly."
"Shhhhh, chica. Let me talk to the captain. Maybe Newaygo can send a doctor."
"Anything would help."
"Okay, I'll be back." And Rodriguez kissed her one last time before leaving. His tread was aggressive, as his woman needed him, and the people they were protecting deserved better, and more.
*****
"Sir! We need to talk."
The Reaper looked up as Rodriguez spoke. He'd noticed the man's entrance into the cleaning room, where he currently had his M40A1 stripped down and was running a patch coated with CLP down the barrel. (CLP was technically Breakfree CLP, and the most commonly-used cleaner/lubricant the military used.) Rodriguez appeared angry, and the Reaper sensed an impending confrontation.
"Yes, Rodriguez."
"We need a doctor. We just lost two in surgery."
Instantly, the Reaper set down the gun parts and closed his eyes. A brief prayer to the Lord for their lost souls, and his eyes reopened.
"Agreed."
"Wait. No argument? I doubt they'll provide one, but we're losing people."
"Sergeant, I agree. I saw the need before. I simply didn't remember to mention it. We need to communicate with Newaygo now, and not just for medical reasons. I need to speak with whomever they’re sending, and get our basic strategy out there to be dissected by the incoming teams. They'll want a heads up."
"Sir. M-ATV ready when you are." For the first time that afternoon, Rodriguez smiled.
*****
Chapter 16
"Newaygo Command, this is Reaper, Code today is Paul. Authenticate over." The Reaper and Rodriguez, along with several of his men, were residing on the hilltop just to the south of the industrial complex, the best location in the area to get reception.
A sharp hiss from the speakers greeted the Reaper’s words as he held the microphone close to his face. Immediately he double-checked the settings on the frequency and scrambler and tried again.
"Newaygo Command, this is Reaper, Code today is Paul. Authenticate over." Frowning, he looked over at Rodriguez who had a pronounced look of trepidation on his face.
"This is not good," Rodriguez whispered. Instead of nodding, the Reaper waited and was just about to transmit a third time when the clear soprano tones of Captain Rider's voice spoke over the airwaves. Captain Rider had originally been Corporal Corey Rider until the governor of Michigan, and the Commanding Officer of the combined elements of the surviving military had field-promoted her. She was loved by everyone in Newaygo, and very competent with her genius-level intellect.
"Jason, sorry for the delay. We just had a zombie incursion. Nobody hurt. Authentication is Sandy. Go for confirm." The Reaper viewed his code sheet, and after nodding to himself, responded.
"Authentication confirmed. I assume hostiles out of Grand Rapids or Muskegon?" he inquired.
"Yes, primarily Muskegon. We have barriers set up against the horde in Grand Rapids. It's working for now, and my man has a plan to reduce their numbers. The drop is still a go, Reaper, and will proceed as scheduled. " Captain Rider's man was none other than the governor of Michigan, Jay Scarmon.
The Reaper came straight to the point. "We need a doctor! And I need to talk to the commanders of the teams you’re sending."
"A doctor?"
"Yes, we just lost two souls in action today that might have been saved with proper treatment. Our lead here is a surgical nurse, with two decades of experience, but she rightly asserts they need a full surgeon for what's coming."
"Jason, I don't know. What kind of numbers are we looking at?"
The Reaper turned to Rodriguez, who was frowning. "With the addition of everyone, and our best estimate of the captives’ numbers, what's your guess on total?"
"Well that's easy, close to or possibly over a thousand."
The Reaper instantly turned back to the communications board.
"Call it a thousand which will grow, Corey, as more come in once the area's somewhat safe."
"That's a solid number. Hold one while I check," and the carrier went dead for a bit. Then Lieutenant Purcell’s voice responded. Purcell was Jay Scarmon’s aide, a Ranger from the 75th Ranger Regiment out of Fort Benning, Georgia, and the second deadliest hand-to-hand combatant in Newaygo. Only Ashley ranked supreme.
"Reaper, we have no jump-qualified doctors. I understand you need assistance, but the number of doctors are limited and we can't afford to lose one to a bad jump."
"The solution is simple, Purcell. He can tandem with one of the SF personnel. Strap his forward and drop packs to one of the pallets. Whoever he is bellied up to will control the jump, and I'm sure you'll get the chute size right. We need a doc."
"Good idea, and I was considering that after approval. I'm tempted to recommend Dr. Rossi. He's been a pain in the ass since they came back. The man believes in touchy-feely even during the apocalypse. Johnny's really getting irritated with him and they've been fighting constantly, but he is an excellent surgeon with a side of psych."
Johnny Clark, known simply as Johnny, was the leader of the rehabilitation center that Newaygo had saved last month. He also had cerebral palsy. In fact, most of those rescued from the rehab had physical and mental disabilities, and the Reaper had led the charge with four other survivor groups when Newaygo was delayed. Intense action and many lives lost had ultimately resulted in the rescue of over four hundred souls, thirty-two of whom were newborn infants from Mercy Hospital. The Reaper chuckled to himself, remembering when he'd met what Johnny called his gimp brigade, all wielding shotguns, and all confined to wheelchairs. That was an experience he would never forget, nor the Lord's hand in showing to the new world that those with disabilities could not only make a difference but could also excel as a strike force. Then the Reaper remembered the little girl they had rescued and the horror she had experienced and made a decision.
"Rossi would be perfect. His psychological services are badly needed. Some of the victims are under fourteen, and one is severely traumatized."
"Sounds right up his alley. Let me run it by the colonel real quick, and stay online for Captain Sokowski. He'll be one of the team leaders dropping in."
The Reaper knew that Jay would make the right decision, so waited patiently.
"What do you think's taking so long?" Rodriguez asked after more than ten minutes had passed.
"I assume they’re asking for volunteers. Newaygo is busy fighting a war on multiple fronts. They're all busy there, just as we are here."
"Gotcha, still ..." then Rodriguez was interrupted as a voice came over the speakers.
"The commander and Dr. Rossi have agreed. He'll be in the drop, in tandem. Take care of him, Reaper. For all his quirks, he's a good man. Stan
d by for Captain Sokowski." Purcell's voice was back, and the news was good.
"Thank Jay for me." Beside Jason, Rodriguez breathed a sigh of relief.
"Roger that. Good luck, and Purcell out!" A brief pause, then, "Sokowski! Good to be working with you again, Reaper." The Reaper now recognized the strong younger voice of the 9th's Special Forces Group and Red Team leader. They had first become acquainted in Ohio when they’d breached the shadow government’s stronghold, and Sokowski and his men had been attached to the Reaper as Jason led the hostage rescue force.
"Sokowski, good to hear your voice," remarked the Reaper.
"And yours. Run the mission down for us, and your current actions regarding the targets. I have satellite images of the area with close-ups before me. By the way, the commander has given you command authority; we are there to assist."
For the next fifteen minutes, the Reaper outlined his plan, took questions from Sokowski, and asked more than a few in return as the strategy was laid out.
"Looks like a winner, Reaper. Given the nature of the enemy, I concur with the overall tactics. I disagree with your timetable though." The Reaper had explained they would wait a day, while setting up traps of their own, or IEDs, and that the assault would commence the morning after at four a.m., or 0400.
"What do you propose, Sokowski?"
"T plus five!" That information told the Reaper that Sokowski meant that five hours after time on target they would launch their attack. He and his men would have landed, regrouped, and joined the survivors.
"You'll have no rest."
"We're rested, and according to your information these marauders might attack you if we wait. You just took them on and killed a bunch of their men. This is the best time to hit them."
"Good point. Will that give you enough time to plant the IEDs and train the civilians in the AT4s?
"Easily. Did you forget how good we are, Jason?" At that, the Reaper chuckled, for the skills Sokowski and his men had exhibited were amazing. For all his Marine Corps service, Jason had never been prouder of his fellow soldiers than during that action.
"No!"
"We'll do a final brief before execution but it's a win, looking at it from our end. We'll discuss the exfil after the op. Getting to work here as we're leaving soon. Handing you over to Rider."
"Reaper?" Captain Rider was back, her clear voice always good on the ears no matter what the condition of the signal.
"You keep yourself safe! The commander won't take kindly to you getting hurt again." Rider was referring to an earlier action in Grand Rapids where the Reaper took a round through the side. They had successfully rescued over twenty prisoners from a gang bent on sending them into slavery, but not without casualties.
"I know, Corey."
"Then good luck and take care."
“You take care also, and thanks."
"You also, Reaper. Newaygo out!" and the connection went dead.
"One doctor on the way, Sergeant."
"That's amazing, and thank you! I can't wait to tell Nancy."
"Then let's get back. We have work to do," the Reaper said. Then he turned inward on his memories, and silently offered up another brief prayer to those valiantly lost in their sacrifice to preserving humanity. The list of righteous fallen was long ... and growing daily.
*****
Dr. Rossi muttered under his breath and wondered where to put his hands. The straps they had cinched to his body dug painfully into his shoulders and groin, and he tried not to take a deep breath. He was fastened to this soldier, and closer than he'd ever wanted to be to a man. Just now the other was checking where they were connected, jerking on each clasp, then rocking the doctor’s body back and forth while Rossi held his arms out sideways.
"If you're wondering where to put your hands, place them here, grip tight, and do not let go. Do you understand, doctor? Under no circumstances do you let go." The speaker was Captain David Sokowski, and Rossi was a bit afraid of him. They had met for the first time just hours before, and the captain had been quick to order the doctor around, who did not appreciate that one bit. After all, he was a doctor, not some soldier. Sokowski should have been following his orders, and not the other way around.
"I understand, Captain. You're repeating yourself again."
"I'm repeating myself because I can't have you screwing us up when we come in for a landing. We could both be badly hurt, which is NOT a good thing, and would just piss me off." This last was said in a menacing voice, and inwardly Rossi shivered.
"I understand," and Rossi was looking everywhere but into the cold eyes of this other man he was currently tied back-to-belly with. Dr. Rossi had volunteered at the last minute to accompany the forces on their way to assist the Reaper. His wife didn't like it, but he was glad to get out of Fremont where Johnny Clark was driving him crazy. Johnny did not seem to realize that he was no longer in charge of all those from Clear Haven Clinic who had been rescued in the big battle in Muskegon. Rossi knew there was plenty of other staff and other doctors able to take care of all the disabled, and that he, Rossi was not actually needed. Besides, he had not performed as a surgeon in quite some time, and the thought of being able to take a direct hand with wounded and also utilize his psychiatrist skills on those damaged by these marauders revitalized him. Now, he was in a large airplane, in the middle of the night, freezing his butt off and getting ready to leap out into the unknown. The thought scared the bejesus out of him, but he consoled himself with the fact that he was needed, and best of all he'd get away from Johnny. He jerked himself back to the present as Sokowski began talking to him again, their cheeks inches apart.
"Pay attention, Doctor!"
"I am!"
"Alright. We're going to make two passes, the first is coming up now. See that light over the door?" Sokowski nodded toward the rear of the aircraft and Rossi glanced, quickly seeing the back upward tailgate thing was fully open, which probably explained why it was so cold in here. There were four large pallets arranged in front of the opening where two large red lights were shining. Rossi saw that several people Sokowski had called flight crew were braced against the pallets preparing to push them out the opening.
"Yes."
"When that turns green, the flight crew will push out the pallets, and then the lights will turn red again. We'll bank and come back around. We'll get a thirty-second warning, then it's our turn. You and I will jump last."
"Bank?"
"The aircraft will turn and make another pass, which usually takes a few minutes."
"Okay, I got it."
"This in important, Doctor. As the last man jumps we'll be right behind them. I'll release my drag chute as I leap. We'll be pulled beyond the tail almost instantly, but don't worry. I'll be gripping you tightly and we'll go together, so just let your feet drag when I run forward. Once clear, I'll open my main and we'll descend. I will control our direction, which is why it's important for you to keep your hands tightly gripped to the harness. As we near the ground, I'll flare the chute, which will bring us almost to a dead stop in relation to the ground. Basically, it's like taking a steep step. We may run forward a few yards but nothing to worry about. Just stay limp and don't try to help. Are you clear on that?"
"Yes."
"Good. Get ready." And suddenly a loud buzz sounded. Looking over, Rossi saw the light turn green. Instantly the flight crew was pushing the pallets out; they rolled down the slightly incline and amazingly quick were gone. Within seconds the lights turned red again, and Rossi felt them start to turn. It was slightly bumpy, and he was jostled around as Sokowski moved him closer to the door. He watched as all the men lined up. They were grouped closely together and lightly held each other as the maneuvering plane jostled their bodies.
Twenty-three men stood between him and the doorway. All had large parachute packs strapped to their backs, a smaller pack strapped to their chest, and an additional, much larger pack held in their arms. They stood, facing the doorway; Rossi was amazed that all these men a
ppeared so calm, and knew that his own shivering was due more to what was about to happen and not the freezing cold temperatures within the aircraft. A loud buzzer sounded.
Within seconds the light turned green again and a member of the flight crew was hollering "Go, go, go!" and he watched as twenty-three men dove out of the aircraft, and then it was their turn. Rossi's breath exploded at the suddenness of the acceleration out of the plane. Just as they disappeared into the dark, he saw men with chutes open dropping the large packs they carried which seemed to be suspended several feet below them, and belatedly he realized that those packs were still somehow attached to each soldier. Then fright took over, as he experienced a huge jerk on his straps which dug even more painfully into his groin, but they were still falling.
Gripping the straps where Sokowski had told him never to let go, Rossi closed his eyes.
*****
Chapter 17
"Blue One. This is Paris Six, do you copy, over," the Reaper spoke into the microphone as he waited with his crew. The airdrop was over ten minutes late and everyone was getting worried. They had already placed chemical lights, the kind you crack then shook, on the ground in the form of an inverted ‘Y’ which would give the air crew the direction of travel for the jump. Those jumping, along with the pallets of supplies, would come in on that vector.
"Blue One, Paris. You are Lima Charlie and ETA is two minutes, currently descending to thirty-five hundred." Blue One let them know that the Reaper was broadcasting loud and clear and that the arrival would be within two minutes. Jason nodded to Rodriguez, whose expression of relief was palpable. Standing next to Rodriguez was Schuster, who was giving the Reaper the thumbs up.
"Roger that, Blue One. The delay had some worried." Shue scowled at Rodriguez, and nudged him, but was deliberately ignored, making Jason grin at the exchange. Once Rodriguez truly believed backup was on the way, his fortitude and commitment to helping all the groups was extraordinary. The Reaper realized these men had been waiting for an opportunity to make a difference, and that previously they had felt helpless.
The Reaper: No Mercy Page 14
