by Greg Gotti
“Everyone, hold on to somethin’!” he yelled as he increased power and lifted the chopper off the ground. Williams continued to spray the woods with bullets as they rose to about 60 feet. Tex turned the chopper to the north and flew over Facility 4 as they left Fuentes and the rest of the Rista forces behind them. The guards fired their rifles from their posts on the wall, but their bullets bounced harmlessly off the bottom of the helicopter. They passed the secret complex built into the side of the hill that had been John’s involuntary home for the past year, and he took one final look at something he would be happy to forget.
And then it exploded.
A series of quick, powerful explosions rocked the complex, sending balls of flame skyward and shaking the air like a thousand thunderstorms. The shockwave emanated outward and caught the chopper; sending everyone sprawling in the back and Tex struggling to regain control as the aircraft veered wildly to one side. Alarms started sounding within the chopper, and Tex fought to straighten them out.
“What the... Oh, no, no, no, no, NO!” he slammed his fists against the roof in frustration as lights flashed and bells rang.
“What’s happening?” Schwarz shouted.
“The blast knocked out something in the system!” Tex shouted. “We’ve lost stabilization control. I gotta put us down!”
“You can’t put us down here!” Martinez shouted. “They’ll close in on us fast, and we will never be able to evade them!”
“We don’t got a choice! Tex shouted. “It’s either set down or crash! Either way, we are hitting ground! It’s jus’ a matter of how hard!”
Tex fought to keep the chopper from tipping as they lost power and quickly descended. He had managed to get them around a thousand yards from the raging fire marking where Facility 4 used to be when they landed hard in a patch of field almost completely surrounded by trees. The impact bounced them around the interior, but nobody was injured as they untangled themselves and got situated.
“Is the aircraft inoperable?” Martinez asked.
“I think I can get ‘er back into the air, but I gotta shut it down and reboot the system. It’ll take a few minutes.”
“We don’t HAVE a few minutes!” Schwarz shouted.
“Is what it is,” Tex said as the rotors wound down. “I suggest you get out there and form a perimeter while I get ‘er runnin’ again.” His calm demeanor had returned and he was already flipping switches as Martinez threw open the door and jumped out.
“He’s right,” Martinez shouted. We need to fan out and keep anyone from getting close enough to get a grenade or something worse into this clearing. When we hear the blades turning again, everyone rush back to the chopper. Let’s go!” He had grabbed a rifle and waved at the others to follow.
Schwarz scowled as he took the M60 opposite Williams from its mount and slung extra ammunition over his shoulder before stepping to the ground.
“I’ll try to get to where I can catch them crossing the open field,” he said as Williams and John jumped down to the grass. We don’t have a lot of rounds left for this thing, so we are going to have to defend with rifles. We weren’t planning on having any sort of extended ground combat, so we don’t have a whole lot of spare bullets. One shot, one kill; got it?” John and Williams nodded, and he continued.
“Martinez has the left there. Williams, you go help him hold that flank. John, you take the right. I‘ll take the frontal position and scatter them best I can. They can’t come in behind us because there’s a steep cliff there. Pick them off and remember to keep moving so they don’t find your position.” Schwarz took off into the trees and Williams did the same. John turned and ran for the right side and saw Maria jump out of the chopper and follow him with a rifle.
“Maria, what are you doing? Get back in the chopper!” John stopped and pointed at the helicopter; its blades slowing to a stop.
“I know how to shoot, John,” she retorted. “I will fight too. We need every gun we have.”
“Maria, one of us has to survive to raise our son. You can man the gun in the chopper if you want.”
“Forget it, John. I am not about to tell our son I let his father go off and get killed. I am going to deliver you back to him myself.” The dried blood that covered the left side of her face gave her words an even stronger certainty. John knew it was no use arguing with her when her mind was made up. Months of learning to communicate without talking had taught him how to read her body language beyond a doubt.
“Let’s go!” he shouted.
They ran into the woods and John raced ahead to find a position as far away from the chopper as possible before setting up to defend their position. Martinez was right; they’d use grenades to try to destroy their ride and then hunt them in the woods. It is exactly what he would do in their position. He found a spot where he was behind a huge tree with a trunk five times thicker than a man and stopped. Maria caught up with him, and they took inventory of their ammunition. Each had an assault rifle with a partial clip, and John had two spare clips he had thrust into his pockets. Maria had only what was in her rifle, so he handed her a clip.
“Make every shot count,” he told her. We don’t have the luxury of using bursts. They don’t know where we are, so wait until they’re very close to start shooting. Aim center mass; don’t bother with a follow-up shot if they don’t go down right away. Just keep moving on to the next one. Don’t be scared. We will come through this just fine. Do you trust me?”
Maria nodded as she looked into his eyes. She was afraid, but not for herself. She knew John would put himself between her and anything that might harm her, even though she would rather protect him. She feared having to raise their son without his father. She feared having to live without John. She would rather die saving him than live without him. She stood at John’s side, peering around the right side of the tree as they waited for the enemy to come.
Fuentes watched in horror as Facility 4 exploded, sending a massive fireball skyward and incinerating everyone inside. The force of the explosion knocked him down and he gathered himself as he came to his knees. He watched as flames and thick smoke poured out of what used to be a high-tech military facility. His ears were ringing from the explosion, and he looked all around him; still disoriented from the blast. He caught a glimpse of the helicopter through the smoke. Something had happened to it. It was veering wildly and losing altitude fast. He saw it slip below tree level, but he heard no sign that it had crashed. Hope surged through him as he realized what this meant. Everyone who knew any details about Maria had been at Facility 4 when it blew up. If he could get to the helicopter and kill everyone, the High General would never realize any of what had happened here. Martinez himself had probably set off the explosion, so Rodriguez would blame him for his daughter’s death. His career would be back on track. He took off running in the direction of the helicopter and came across a dead Rista soldier lying in the trees. Fuentes took the dead man’s rifle, two grenades and extra ammunition as he saw more militia coming out of the trees. He rounded them up, explained about the helicopter going down and ordered them to follow him. He had lost two of his Special Forces men in the explosion, and the rest were helping Heredia in the search for Martinez. Militia soldiers were little more than farmers with guns instead of pitchforks in his eyes, but this was what he had to work with. They ran past the flaming inferno that had been Facility 4 and across the field between them and where he’d seen the helicopter disappear below the trees.
Schwarz watched as the Ristas approached. He had set up just inside the tree line where he had an unobstructed view of the entire field. He figured the helicopter was about 150 yards behind him as he lay on his stomach aiming the machine gun across the field. He planned to let them get very close and mow them down where they would have no chance at escaping to find cover. He estimated there to be about 40 to 50 of them, all on foot as they approached.
“Just a liiiiiitle closer, boys…that’s right,” he muttered softly to himself as he found them in hi
s sights. His finger danced on the trigger and he took a deep breath.
The Ristas suddenly fanned out and broke up into three groups. One ran for the woods to their right and another to their left. The remainder kept coming directly at Schwarz as though they were taking aim at him. They came at a full run, and Schwarz opened fire when they were about 30 yards away. He saw them jerk backwards unnaturally as the large rounds tore through them as he swept the barrel left to right. He managed to hit all but two of them on his first pass, and he caught another as he brought the weapon back right to left. The last one ran to his left, stopped, and ran to the right before stopping again and firing wildly into the woods. Schwarz heard the bullets hitting the trees about 20 feet above him and squeezed the trigger as he found his target. He caught the Rista center mass, and he was dead before he hit the ground. Schwarz saw the group to his left had taken fire and several of them lay motionless on the ground. The group to his right was just reaching the tree line, and he heard gunfire ring out in that direction as two of them fell. The rest raised their weapons and returned fire as they scattered. Schwarz knew Wallace was covering that area alone, so he turned to backtrack a bit before angling over to help. It was only then he realized some of the men he had just cut down were screaming in agony. He heard pleading for help and cries of insufferable pain. He grimaced as he ran back through the woods. War was a terrible thing.
John and Maria opened fire just as the Ristas were about to reach the tree line and put two of them down immediately. John took aim and shot another dead before the return volley came. He and Maria took cover behind the tree for a few seconds before lining up another shot and firing again. Two more enemy soldiers fell, but now the rest realized where they were. Bullets tore into the tree as they hid behind it and bullets flew past and smacked into trees behind them.
“Fall back to that next big tree as soon as I start firing and then shoot a few shots at them when I follow!” he told Maria. “Go!”
Maria ran for the tree as John fired a half-dozen shots at their foes. He saw another raising his rifle as he ran towards him and shot him in the chest before hiding behind the tree once more. They were only a short distance away now. He saw Maria peak out from behind the tree. He nodded at her and took off running. Maria fired at the Ristas and kept them at bay until he joined her behind the tree. This time there was no return volley. He realized they had probably lost visual on them; just as he’d hoped. They weren’t moving in any sort of organized pattern, nor were they constantly pushing as they should have been. John realized these were likely the militia they had encountered back at the landing zone… local soldiers who only fought when things were happening in their area. They were mostly just teenagers the Ristas sent to shore up these areas and gain experience before being sent to the front. He scanned the trees for them, but saw no one. They had all taken cover, which was fine with John. Every second that ticked by brought them closer to hearing the helicopter start its blades again. He suddenly heard something crash into the ground somewhere off to their right.
“Get down!” he said as he threw Maria to the ground and dove on top of her. Maria cried out as they landed in a heap and wondered what was happening.
“John, what…”
An explosion sent dirt and debris into the air off to their right as the grenade detonated, and John immediately sprang to his knees and aimed back at the Ristas. He saw two jump out of their hiding places and come charging, and he shot them both down before either had taken a dozen steps.
“Move!” he yelled, and Maria ran for the next good cover spot with John at her side. They took position behind some large rocks and scanned for approaching enemies. John figured there were about five or six remaining at most, and they were inexperienced. He was beginning to like their chances.
Williams and Martinez had managed to take out five of the Ristas before they ever reached the trees, but the ones who did were proving to be quite determined. They moved quickly and worked together to advance, which made it hard to get a clean shot at them as they moved under cover fire. This made them effective in moving, but their inexperience still showed in the mistakes they made. They didn’t spread out to create multiple fields of fire and better angles, nor did they make any attempt to effectively drive their enemy in a specific desired direction. Martinez was a former Special Forces commander himself, and he was a master of controlling terrain. Williams followed him as they moved to more advantageous spots and waited for their opportunity. If these were Special Forces, they’d already be dead, thought Martinez. Honestly, if they were even regular seasoned veterans, their numerical advantage would have proven to be too much. But they were militia, and militia hesitated. Militia doubted their instincts. Militia made mistakes, and when you make a mistake in battle, you die.
Williams kept his rifle pointing at the crevice between two large rocks and waited. It was the only way to get to where they were without going all the way around, which is exactly what they should have done. Sure enough, one poor soul tried to dash thru it, and Williams put him down with a single shot. Martinez waited a few moments, and signaled Williams to follow him again. To Williams’s surprise, he ran up the hill and stopped at the crevice. He removed the grenades from the man’s belt and rolled him over to check for anything else of use. He froze as he saw the face of the dead Rista. He wasn’t a man at all; just a boy who could not be more than 15 at most. He shook his head in sadness as he got to his feet. After quickly checking for enemies, they dashed back through the crevice in the direction of where they had originally come from and began circling back around to the left.
“Why are we backtracking?” Williams whispered.
“They are circling around now,” Martinez answered. We will ambush them from their rear and from high ground. They are likely trying to flank us and half went around each way. We will take out the whole group on this side and move up the side of that hill through the thick brush. How are you on ammunition?”
Williams checked his pocket. “One more clip after this… almost out on this one.”
“The important thing is keeping them away from the helicopter. We must always manage to stay between them and our ride out of here. We need to have time to get to the helicopter and get up above the trees before they reach that clearing. That means we need to keep them chasing us out here. It doesn’t matter if we kill any more of them. We just have to keep them busy until it’s time to get out of here. Understand?”
“I got it, man,” Williams nodded.
“Ok, follow me.”
They took a bit of a wide arc as they circled around the large rocks that were anywhere from ten to twenty five feet high and used the brush and smaller trees to conceal their movements. They came to a place where they had a clear line of sight to six Ristas huddled behind the rocks. They both set up behind some smaller rocks and took aim.
“You start from the left, and I’ll start at the right,” Martinez whispered. Keep shooting until we get them all. Let’s go on 3…2…1…”
The first two Ristas never heard the shots that killed them. Neither had time to slump to the ground before the next two were shot trying to come out of their crouch. The remaining two managed to run a few steps before being cut down. One lay screaming in pain as Martinez and Williams took off for another vantage point. They ran for another spot about 20 yards down the hill and set up behind more rocks. Williams shook his head as he heard the man’s screams and pleas for help grow softer as the voices of his comrades drew closer. The Ristas who had gone around the rocks the other direction had reached him, and Williams could hear the groans and whimpers of the dying man finally stop completely. He looked at Martinez with eyes full of pain.
“This is a lot different than it is from the air,” he said quietly.
“We will be back in the air soon, my friend,” Martinez assured him. “Stay focused.”
Tex had flown this type of aircraft many times, but he had never had to deal with the computer going down before. He could hear the
gunfire and explosions in the distance and knew he needed to get them off the ground soon or it would be too late. He had shut the system down and initiated the reboot, but it was a slow process, never intended to be done in a combat zone. Once it reached the end of the first stage, he could opt out and use the manual override to take the computer out of the equation and power up manually while the system finished rebooting. He watched as the screen told him to “please wait” as it seemed to reboot at a snail’s pace. He forced himself to remain calm and tapped his foot impatiently. He hoped the others were holding their own. The morning light was growing bright now, and the destruction of the facility meant there were Ristas running towards them at full-speed from all over. He muttered to himself as the screen kept politely imploring him to wait. What choice did he have?
John led Maria across a small creek and to a spot about 20 feet up the incline on the other side. He was careful to keep them between the Ristas and the chopper as he moved to different defensible positions. They knelt within a thicket of bushes where there was a rocky ledge to hide behind. John was keeping the Ristas moving but making sure it was away from the chopper. He had no idea how long it took to do whatever it was Tex needed to do, but he wished he would hurry up and do it.
Maria tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to their right. A group of three Ristas emerged cautiously from the trees and took cover behind some rocks as they scanned the area. John had a clear line of sight, but firing from this position would bring the rest of them. There was no clear avenue of retreat, so he decided not to engage. A sudden explosion made it a moot point as the three of them turned and ran back towards the source of the noise. He couldn’t see anyone else around, so he signaled Maria it was time to move. They emerged from the bushes and trotted down a path before turning to go down a small, but relatively short hill. Maria followed John as he turned into the trees and suddenly lost his footing. His rifle went flying as he tumbled down the hillside and came to a stop about two-thirds of the way down. He winced as his ribs had hit a rock on the way down, and he felt the familiar stab of hot pain shoot through him. Maria hurried to him and grabbed his arm to help him up when they suddenly heard a shout. They looked up into the barrel of a rifle as one of the Ristas closed in on them from only 20 feet away; his rifle aimed directly between John’s eyes.
