Sarah suddenly felt calm. They were in trouble. Big trouble. Years of experience roared through the chaos of her mind as she tried to figure out the best way to evade the incoming missile. She could feel every powerful, thudding beat of her heart. She thought about Ethan, her love for him. She could hear Tait breathing raggedly, no doubt scared out of his mind as he watched the missile drawing closer.
“Chaff and flares didn’t work!” Tait cried out in anguish.
Lips tightening, Sarah had only one option. Everything moved so damned slowly it sent panic flooding through her. She didn’t want them to die. She wanted to live. God, they were going to be hit! And as soon as that missile struck, there would be an ear splitting concussion that would vaporize them, as their ammo exploded violently in the air over the valley.
She had to fly by the seat of her pants now. It was the only thing that might save their lives. Sarah felt the helo around her, alive, shaking and vibrating. As the missile streaked toward her, she cranked hard right, throwing the Black Hawk into a sudden, violent maneuver. Metal strained. Engines screamed. She couldn’t completely evade the missile. What she could do was suddenly make her helo less of a target for it. If she got lucky, if she timed it just right, the missile would not hit the cabin. It could buy them critical time.
The Black Hawk groaned as gravity and weight suddenly hauled it around under Sarah’s brute physical guidance. The missile was going to hit any second now. Had she moved the Black Hawk enough? She didn’t know. Her focus was laserlike, feeling the bird around her haul ass as she asked the impossible of it. Would the last-second maneuver be enough?
*
Ethan leaped to his feet, his eyes on the missile as it streaked toward Sarah’s Black Hawk, a scream lodged in his tightened throat.
“Oh, Christ, no,” Trace yelled.
“Get eyes on that helo,” Ethan cried hoarsely to the snipers. They had scope magnification to see everything close up. He didn’t. His fingers curled into fists. His chest ached with terror. At the last second before the missile struck, he saw Sarah wrench the Black Hawk around, the tail rotor swinging their way. Praying, Ethan realized what Sarah was doing: presenting the Stinger less of a target. Maybe, oh, God, maybe the missile would miss the helo completely! Ethan felt tears come to his eyes as he watched the collision occur.
The Stinger clipped one of the four blades on the tail rotor, and then ricocheted off course, away from the Black Hawk. Gasping, Ethan watched the Black Hawk suddenly wobble violently in the air, part of one blade tip destroyed. A painful lump in this throat stopped his scream. Without four working blades, the Black Hawk suddenly began acting like a bucking horse in the air. The one blade was shorter, throwing the entire bird into a crazy, awkward, gawky motion in the sky. He couldn’t imagine what Sarah was doing to keep the bird in the air.
Oh, Jesus, no, no, no, don’t let her die, don’t…
Trace cursed loudly, grabbing Ethan’s shoulder.
The Stinger struck the hill behind the helo, exploding, the pressure waves echoing heavily throughout the valley. His eyes, his heart, his soul, were on the Black Hawk. The bird flailed, Sarah working to land it on a large hill with a crown of rocks. He couldn’t speak. Paralyzed and helpless, Ethan watched the helo falling, falling, falling….
*
Sarah hissed a curse as she struggled with the whirling Black Hawk. The vibration was powerful and terrifying. She kept seeing particles of the composite blade shredding in the sky, realizing one blade of the tail rotor had been hit. Because of the shortened blade, it made them more vulnerable to torque spin, which was deadly. Could she get the bird down in time before it happened?
Tait was feverishly working the two throttles overhead, desperation in his face. Nostrils flared, breathing hard, her arms and leg aching, Sarah spotted something that might save them. The Black Hawk’s blades were whumping and straining. Tait tried to use the throttles overhead to compensate for the shorter tail rotor blade. It was like sitting on a wildly bucking horse, the vibration making her hands go numb around the controls. She had to get air under the Black Hawk at the last second or they were going to fall too fast into that looming hillside! And when they did, that pallet of ammo would explode, killing them.
“Come on, come on,” she muttered, her teeth clenched so hard her jaw ached. Suddenly, Sarah saw what looked like a puff of black smoke in the air. More of the one tail rotor had disintegrated.
No!
The Black Hawk started to slowly whirl around and around like a leaf twirling downward in a wind. It was known as a torque spin, the helo spinning helplessly counterclockwise, falling out of the sky. Timing. It was timing and luck.
The hill came up fast as the Black Hawk made one last turn before it would crash into it. At the last second, she yelled at Tait to help her and they both hauled up on the cyclic. By doing that, it would lift the flap elevator on the tail rotor, helping to slow their forward descent speed, lifting the nose of the helo skyward. The nose arced upward, straining, the blades thumping. More of the tail’s rotor blade disintegrated. The helo groaned and sheered sideways, to the left, toward the rocks. Sarah felt their speed slowing. Oh, God, let it be enough, let it be—
Sarah shut her eyes seconds before the helo struck the top of the hill. Gripping the controls, there was nothing else she could do. There was a huge flash of light. She was jerked hard, the harness biting into her shoulders, bruising them. A crunch of metal and Plexiglas, striking the rocks on her left, shattered through the cabin. The blades snapped, shrieking like razors through the sky, slicing through the air as they were hurled in all directions. She was wrenched hard, her helmet slamming forward and then she was snapped to the left. It felt as if her head would be ripped off her shoulders. And then, an explosion came. Sarah cried out, nearly losing consciousness, as the helo crumpled into the rocks.
Smoke, black and thick, rolled into the helo. Sarah tried to throw off the grayness, feeling the chopper still moving, metal shrieking as it was torn open by the rocks below the fuselage. The wounded Black Hawk slid off the crown of boulders and tipped precariously to the left side. Panic struck her. Sarah released the controls, flipped off the main fuel switches and turned to yell at Tait to egress, to get the hell out.
The smoke was purling into the cabin, choking her, her throat searing with heat as flames burst in overhead, snaking across the ceiling. Sarah’s eyes widened and she gave a little cry. Tait was dead, his helmet sliced open, his body hanging lifeless in his harness. Tears splattered down her face. She had to get out or she’d die! Sarah released her harness, nearly falling onto Tait as the helo shifted, still sliding on its port side. It was going down the hill!
Get out! Get out!
Blinded by the black smoke, Sarah turned and found the strap on the ruck. The Plexiglas across the cockpit had shattered. She threw the ruck out on the nose and saw it slide down and fall off to the right and disappear into the black smoke. Yanking the cord out of the connection to her helmet, she turned, gripping the handle to her door. Her knees were knocking so hard she wasn’t sure they would hold her as she yanked, jerked and felt the door give way. She slammed her booted foot repeatedly into the door. Grudgingly, it opened. Sarah crouched and then launched herself out of the half-opened door. Her push was so powerful, she tumbled off into space, instantly swallowed up by the smoke.
Sarah hit the stone-filled earth five feet below. She couldn’t breathe! The black fumes had completely enveloped the chopper. She staggered drunkenly to her feet, blinded, unsure of her direction. She heard the Black Hawk to her left, continuing to slowly skid down the hill, metal grating, ripping and tearing the underside of it. She couldn’t see anything and launched herself off to the right.
If she couldn’t find somewhere to hide, she would be killed by the ammo blast that would happen when the fuel cells on the helicopter ignited and exploded.
As she pitched forward, expecting soil beneath her boots, Sarah suddenly found herself sailing out into space and head
ing down, down, down. She hit a tree, heard the branches snap and groaned. Her body was flung out into space, cartwheeling and tumbling. Her last thought before she hit the earth somewhere far below, was that she was going to die from the fall.
Sarah landed on top of her ruck with an “oof!” Her helmet struck the rocky ground, protecting her from serious head injury. Breathing raggedly, she rolled to her hands and knees. Jerking a look around, she saw she’d fallen about twenty feet or so from the top of the hill. Black, oily smoke was racing and curling down toward her.
Too close. I’m too close. I’ll die.
Sarah anxiously looked around. Right in front of her was a small cave opening. With a cry, she grabbed the ruck and lurched dizzily to her feet, rushing toward it. If she could hide in a cave, get as far back inside it as possible, it might be enough to save her life.
Breathing in sobs, she got down on her hands and knees. The opening was four feet high and six feet long. It was a very small cave. Panicking, Sarah shoved the ruck inside ahead of her and then crawled in behind it. There was just enough light coming through the brush that hid most of the cave opening for her to spot a tunnel to her left. She instantly headed for it, breath exploding from her mouth, her lungs on fire from inhaling the toxic fumes. She kept pushing the ruck forward. She couldn’t survive without it.
Finally, the tunnel curved. It widened and Sarah gave a cry of relief. Darkness enclosed her, the sounds of the fire on the helo ebbing behind her. She pushed the ruck forward on her belly now, using the toes of her boots to launch her forward. The ruck suddenly dropped down two feet, nearly spraining her wrist as it unexpectedly dropped. Grunting with pain, Sarah scowled.
What the hell?
Was she on some kind of rock shelf? Was that the reason the ruck fell? It was stable. Sarah shakily felt around in front of her. It was dark and she couldn’t see anything. There was some kind of lip or shelf she was laying on. Below it, from what she could feel, the tunnel was very smooth, almost polished and much wider. Fresh air was tunneling up and out of it.
There was a sharp cracking sound beneath her belly. Sarah suddenly felt the entire floor she was on crumble out from beneath her. With a cry, she fell, jerked forward by the heavy ruck. In seconds, she was sliding and slipping down a very, very steep tunnel. Gasping, she tried to stop herself from hurtling downward at such a speed, but she couldn’t stop herself. The tunnel was wide and Sarah threw her hands out, trying to slow her slide. Her Nomex gloves had the fingers ripped out of them, the surrounding rock rough and far more jagged than the floor. With a grunt, Sarah hurtled into the darkness, having no idea of where the tunnel was taking her or how far she would fall. The ruck’s weight pulled her. Her fingers ached around the strap. She couldn’t release it. If she did, she might lose it and she’d be trapped in total darkness with no way out.
The slide continued—it seemed like forever. Finally, she felt her ruck and herself hurtling out of the tunnel and sailing into utter darkness. She tumbled end over end, feeling herself swiftly dropping. Into what or where, she had no idea.
*
Ethan cried out as the Black Hawk waffled for just a moment, taking air beneath its belly to slow its descent just before it crashed into the rocks crowning the hill. Trace screamed a string of curses.
He had to think! He had to think! Ethan’s SEAL training took over, thinking above his heart and his terror.
“Watch that helo,” he ordered Dagger and Dusty hoarsely. “Watch for either pilot egressing. If they’re alive, they’re going to get the hell out of there.”
Ethan wiped his eyes, the tears streaming down his cheeks. Sarah could not be dead! She just could not be! It hurt to breathe, a sob wanting to rip out of him. Trace was crying unashamedly, cursing nonstop, watching the helicopter erupt into flames and smoke. With shaking hands, Ethan made a call into Camp Bravo, alerting everyone about what had just happened. He then called Master Chief Hunter, explaining the crash in a strained voice.
And then there was a sky-ripping explosion, the pressure waves rippling across the valley. Trace gave a shout of warning. It knocked them off their feet. Ethan gasped, flung five feet backward. The booming explosion shook the entire valley as if a major earthquake had just stuck it. As Ethan fell hard to the ground, he automatically rolled to reduce impact. He felt the earth trembling violently beneath him. He dragged himself upright, his ears ringing so badly he couldn’t hear Trace yelling at him.
Turning, wanting to cry, but not able to, Ethan blinked in disbelief. Half the hill where the Black Hawk had crashed was gone. Just gone! There was a crater he could barely see through the thousands of yards of dirt and rock blown up into the sky by the pallet of explosives that had blown. Wiping his eyes, his entire body trembling, Ethan knew no one could have survived anywhere on that hill. No one….
*
Sarah landed with a splash into an unseen pool of water. She yelped in surprise, the ruck flying out of her hand. Sliding several feet through the shallow pool of water, she finally came to a halt, knee deep in it. Where was she? Where? Gasping for breath, Sarah shakily stood up. She always carried a pen flashlight and she shakily reached into the left sleeve pocket of her uniform. There! By some small miracle, the pen had stayed put during her fall. Pulling it out, she clicked it on. The small, intense halogen light illuminated a pool of water about twenty feet in diameter. Flashing it above, Sarah realized she was in a huge underground cavern, maybe the size of half of a football field.
Breathing hard, her heart pounding, she walked over and grabbed the strap of the ruck. She trudged out of the water and placed it on the dusty floor. Looking around in shock, her mind not fully functioning, she tried to understand where she was. Before she could explore further, Sarah felt and heard a tremendous explosion somewhere far behind and above her. The entire cavern shook. It had to be the Black Hawk going up with the load of ammo. She dropped to her knees, next to her ruck, curling up into a fetal position, arms protecting her neck. Thank God she was still wearing her helmet! Seconds later, rocks, large and small, began falling from the ceiling. Sarah cried out, feeling pebbles and larger chunks pelting down all around and upon her. The roaring and rumbling of the explosion continued shaking and shuddering the entire cave. Sarah could feel the pressure waves rippling invisibly through the rocks, pounding against her body. She tried to curl even tighter, make herself less of a target for the huge rocks that were continuing to drop around her. Oh, God, was she going to be buried alive by a cave-in?
The rumbling finally stopped. And so did the pressure waves’ reverberations. Sarah had heard a large rock drop very close to her. Shaken, she coughed as dust swirled throughout the cave. Tears fell down her face, tracking through the dust as she cried for the loss of Tait. Sniffing, her nose running, she turned on her penlight. Her ruck was beside her and she saw a huge rock sitting next to it, weighing at least thirty pounds. God, it could have hit her instead of her ruck! And she’d have instantly died.
Shaking, Sarah knew she had to try to find a way out of the cave. Was there one? She didn’t know. Shoving to her feet, her knees weak, the adrenaline still surging through her, she shrugged on the heavy ruck, belted it up and started to explore. Her rib cage ached from the twenty-foot fall. Her knee joints were sore as hell and stiffening up. Her mind and heart turned to Ethan. Oh, God, he’d been across the valley! He’d seen her crash! Did he know she was still alive? Had they seen her egress out of the Black Hawk and fall?
Sarah sniffed and rubbed her nose with the back of her dusty sleeve. Her mind was still shorting out. Sarah knew she was in Taliban-held territory. They used these caves all the time. She’d have to be quiet, walk as silently as possible.
Her mind turned to the radio that Ox had given her. It was a SEAL radio, a good one that could be heard for a fifty-mile radius. He’d put new lithium batteries in it, added extra new batteries in the ruck so she’d always have a radio to call for help. Her heart settled down a little as she realized the ruck that the SEALs had pa
cked for her the night before was truly going to help save her life.
She sobbed, pressing her hand against her mouth as she walked around the edges of the cave. She was alive! She could get out of this. Would Ethan know she’d survived? Her heart twisted in her chest, the pain almost too much for her to bear. He would think she was dead! The smoke might have covered up her escape. Worse, as Sarah continued to follow the wall at a fast pace, if no one saw her egress and escape, they would all think she’d been vaporized in the blast along with Tait.
Oh, God, what if that did happen? Sarah sobbed again, old feelings of being abandoned rising up in her. She hated the feeling of being thrown away by her mother. And then being thrown away by the state into a series of foster homes. The SEALs wouldn’t abandon her on purpose and she knew it.
Sarah clung to the fact she had a radio. If she could just find a way out of this cave, some exit point, a tunnel, she could search for and find an opening into the valley. The radio would not work in here. Too much rock and dirt to block the transmissions. Besides, even if she could tell them she was in a cave, she had no idea where she was. Luckily, Trace had placed a GPS unit in her ruck.
Feeling a little better, Sarah gulped back her sobs. She wiped her eyes shakily with a shredded glove. Once she found an opening, she’d be able to call Master Chief Hunter on the radio.
Ethan… Sarah hurt so much for him. He had to be suffering terribly. Oh, God, she hoped he’d seen her egress.
*
Ethan sat down, calling the master chief, asking that his team be lifted out and allowed to be flown as a quick reaction force to the Black Hawk crash site. To his relief, Hunter approved it, and a Night Stalker Chinook was on its way to pick them up. Ethan couldn’t control the strain in his voice as he alerted his team. All of them seemed relieved. They wanted to get over there to search for Sarah and her copilot just as badly as he did.
Degree of Risk Page 9
