by John Ringo
"Drop all your gear except weapon and LCE. Crossload your spare ammo. You're going out on the bird if there's room. You're going to sweat your ass off in that suit and drinking through the mask is a bitch. If you start to get too overheated, hell, I don't know what we're gonna do. Put you on one of the stretchers or something. Keep hydrated as best you can."
"Yes, Kildar."
"We'll extract you as fast as we can."
Three of the Toyota pickups, loaded to the brim with Keldara from Team Yosif, were in the lead. Mike hoped the Chechens hadn't gotten an ambush team in ahead of them—he couldn't afford more casualties—but if they had the three pickups would hopefully spring it.
The entire group, using every functional vehicle, was barrel assing down the road towards the Georgian lines. There was no way to fight their way through—the girls had confirmed that a group of over two hundred and some light armor were now in blocking positions—but that was also the way to the Guerrmo Pass.
The mountains thinned at that point. Whereas they had had to cross nearly a hundred klicks of nasty assed alpine terrain on the way in, at the Guerrmo the distance from their current valley to "safety" was barely thirty kilometers. He could run that in a few hours on the flat. But this was going to be going up increasingly steep ridgelines stretching up well above the woodline and into the snowline. The Keldara could make it, assuming more Chechens didn't cut them off. But the females both hadn't been in as much training as the fighters and... Well, there was a reason that men and women competed in different leagues in the Olympics. The Keldara were, at this point, damned near Olympic quality athletes. They could carry their rucks at a dog trot all God damned day even straight up a slope. He'd worked hard to get them to that level of condition for precisely this reason.
The girls could maybe maintain a jog for three hours. Uphill, less. Even if they'd been in the same condition, they couldn't have hung with the boys carrying the same gear. As long as they were with the group the Keldara simply couldn't run as fast. And right now, the only thing that they could do, should do, was run like hell.
Getting them out was a priority right up there with evaccing the casualties and Arensky.
Freq switch again. This time it was to a connection that automatically routed the call through a satellite.
"Tiger Two."
"Go, Kildar."
"I take it the helo is moving?"
"On the way," Nielson replied. "They have to fly through Guerrmo, though. They can get higher but not carrying any sort of useable load. And Guerrmo..."
"I saw," Mike replied. "So, is that a permissible Ranger AO?"
"Negative."
"Fuck."
* * *
"Sir, with all due respect, this is crap," Guerrin said.
He'd set up a satellite call to SOCOM. Their operational control for this mission ran direct to SOCOM, bypassing the Ranger command group entirely. It wasn't unusual to get tasked to other units that had operational control.
But he didn't usually talk directly to the SOCOM commander.
"I'm in agreement, Captain," General Howard said, mildly. "However, I just got off the phone with the CJCS on this very subject. Relations in the area are very touchy at this time. The Georgians don't want you fighting at all. They certainly don't want it apparent to the world that they can't control their own territory. So the Keldara have to fight their way out on their own. If the Chechens pass the entrance to Guerrmo Pass, if in other words they come past those defenses, you are clear to engage. Among other things, at that point it becomes self protection and I was firm on that point. But until then you are to remain in place and not engage anyone that is in or beyond the pass. Is that clear?"
"Clear, sir," J.P. said. "I will comply. If the situation changes, though..."
"I'll inform you immediately," the general said. "And I hope it does. For your information, I'm told the mission came off without a hitch. The only hitch is that the entire Chechen force in the area seems to be determined to wipe these guys off the map. And, trust me, I know exactly how it feels to just be sitting there in the rain not able to do a fucking thing. Been there, done that. But that is exactly what you are going to do."
* * *
"Sergeant Sivula?" Jessia said, sticking her head in the door to the barracks.
"Yes," the sergeant said, rolling off his bunk and glad none of the guys were naked when she burst in.
"We are moving the mortars," Jessia said, panting. "The Keldara are trapped on the other side of the mountains."
"We got the word," Sivula said, walking over. The panting was doing really interesting things to her chest but he tried to ignore that. "But we can't do anything."
"Neither can we," Jessia admitted. "But we are going to move our mortars forward to support when they are in the pass. We can fire into it."
"Damn, that's right," Sivula said, grinning. "Let me get with the LT. I guess you'd like some help?"
"We are strong," Jessia said, shrugging. "But they are very heavy. As is the ammunition. Yes, we would like some help. As many strong backs as you can muster."
"Fuck, yeah," Sivula said. "I'll be with you in a few minutes."
* * *
The president stared at the take from the Predator and sighed. It was, more or less, gray clouds and not much else. The pilots had admitted that they were steering well away from mountains and otherwise entirely on instruments. Nothing could pierce the storm in the area.
"This is very frustrating."
"We can permit the Rangers to move," the CJCS said. "General Howard says that they are chomping at the bit."
"Georgia says not only no but hell no," the Secretary of State said with a sigh. "The Defense Minister has stuck his nose in to the whole thing. He's not about to let anyone think that the Georgians can't control their own territory. Even if that's truth."
"So the Keldara are going to have to fight their way out on their own," the president said.
"Unless this clears," the Secretary of Defense said.
"Unfortunately, this is all the time I can spare to this," the president said. "Or perhaps fortunately. Keep me apprised if the situation changes. If the weather clears, turn operational control of the Predators over to Mr. Jenkins. Use them at his discretion. Make sure at least one is up, armed, at all times. The B-2 is on the way back?"
"Yes, sir," the CJCS confirmed.
"Then my purpose here is really served," the president noted. "Time for real work."
* * *
No ambushes.
That was the good news. The bad news was that the easy part was over.
"Out!" Oleg was shouting from the back. "Move it!"
Mike glanced at his BFT device as he rolled out the door. The Chechen unit holding the road up ahead still hadn't moved, according to the device. Reality might be otherwise. The group behind them, according to the intercepts, was still held up at the roadblock. Damn, Adams was good.
The rain had slowed, at least. It wasn't clearing, really, but it had settled down to a steady, soft, really fucking cold, rain. Good weather for running.
The Keldara were already fading into the woods. He'd made it clear, get a point out in front but none of this slow ass dicking around. The point now was simply speed.
"Why hello, Katya," Mike said as he trotted into the woods. The blonde was distinct, her hair practically glowed even in the near total darkness. He'd have to get her a balaclava. Somebody had already given her a cold weather suit. "Fancy meeting you here."
"This is not what I signed up for," the agent spat. "Running in the dark in woods is for you caveman types."
"If you can't make it, I'm sure Shota would be happy to carry you piggyback." The Keldara had been stripped, reluctantly, of most of his heavy armor for the run. Mike had heard him protesting from the back of the truck that he could keep up with it on, really he could. But Oleg had been firm.
"I'll keep up," the girl said, stumbling over a root. "If I could just see."
Mike stripped of
f his NVGs and stopped, pulling the girl over.
"Here," he said, slipping the harness on her head and adjusting it. Then he flipped the monocular down. "Better?"
"Yes, Kildar," Katya admitted. "Thank you."
"I can actually see pretty well in this," Mike admitted. He'd always had cat-eyes. "Oh, wait," he added, pulling off his own balaclava. He'd find one somewhere and his face and hair didn't stand out as much as hers. He slid the overlarge head covering on, after taking off the NVGs, then put those back on and adjusted the whole assembly.
"Thank you, again," Katya said, pulling up the hood of the weather suit. "Now, I think we run, yes? I wish I'd brought running shoes. But at least I'm in flats."
"You're going out as soon as we reach the LZ," Mike pointed out. "You should do fine. Stick with me, kid."
"I think I will," Katya said.
* * *
"Up, Vugar," Yosif said, cheerfully, yanking up on the ruck of the Keldara sprawled face down in a stream. "No lying down on the job."
"Just getting a drink, Yosif," the Keldara said, blowing out a mouthful of mud. "Gotta keep hydrated or the Kildar will have us sent to the Cold Lands."
They'd been trotting through the pitch black woods for the last forty five minutes and everyone had sprawled at least once. Even the Kildar had ended up sliding, backwards, down a hillside. Adams had run face first into a tree, smashing his NVGs. Two men were on stretchers from injuries.
But they were nearly to the LZ, a bare hilltop four klicks from the road.
Now if the helos would just be there.
* * *
"LZ in sight," Tammie said. "I don't see our friends. BFT has them nearby, though. I think we're coming down lonely, though."
"Gretchen," Kacey said over the intercom. "Make sure the gatling is armed. We're coming into the LZ lonely so we don't know if it's hot or cold."
"Yes, ma'am," the Keldara girl said. "I will keep any enemies off."
"Just fire if fired upon," Kacey said, sighing. The girl positively wanted to get in a firefight. It was the last thing Kacey had on her mind.
The ride in had, frankly, sucked. The storm seemed to be breaking up but that just meant that the winds were getting worse. Coming through the high passes in the mountains, fighting the now piggish Hind in high altitude, had been a nightmare. She'd nearly clipped a mountain three times.
Now she had no clue what the winds on the LZ were going to be like. And it wasn't exactly large.
"Tiger, Tiger burning bright," Kacey said over the radio. "This is Valkyrie. Status, over."
* * *
"Valkyrie, this is Tiger One," Mike panted. He pulled on Katya's arm to drag her up the slope while thumbing his throat mike with the other hand. The agent was clearly just about done and he was half tempted to just throw her over his shoulder. Take that for calling him a "caveman." "We are five hundred meters east of LZ. ETA one mike, over."
"Roger, Tiger. We are going to swing around and come back. LZ looks clear, but..."
"Confirm, Tiger. Be there in a minute. Out."
* * *
"Just another minute, Katya," Mike said. "Come on."
"I...can't...breathe..." the agent panted.
"Surely you're not going to let us men out-do you?" Mike snarled. "The men are doing just fine but you puny women..."
"Oh FUCK you!" Katya snarled, pushing off from a tree. "I'll fucking race you to the top you fucking pig!"
"That's my girl," Mike muttered, quietly, as Katya stumbled up the hill, actually passing one of the panting Keldara shooters.
The wind was whipping the light rain into his eyes as he cleared the woodline. Katya was down on her hands and knees ralphing into the scrub that covered it. All good.
"Valkyrie, Valkyrie, this is Tiger," Mike panted. "LZ is clear."
Somebody, probably Pavel, was already laying out a Y with chemlights, indicating direction of wind.
"Y is laid," Mike continued. "Winds are high, repeat, high. About seventeen knots from the west. Suggest vector from east."
"Roger, Tiger. See Y. Inbound. Clear the LZ."
"Clear the LZ!" Mike shouted, thumbing his throat mike at the same time. "Incoming bird."
He grabbed Katya's arm and dragged her to the north side of the clearing, over into the trees on that side.
"Just one more run," he said. "Let them dump the ammo then you run girl. Good girl. You're a trooper."
"Oh fuck you," Katya said, spitting out bile. "Fuck this. Fuck the Keldara. Fuck missions. Fuck everything."
"Honey, you never want to fuck anything," Mike said, grinning into the rain. "But I appreciate the sentiment. Welcome to the wonderful world of soldiers."
* * *
"Damn that's a nasty wind," Kacey muttered. It was mostly from the west, yeah, but it was swirling around like a bitch.
"Six meters, three... touch," Tammie said, watching the FLIR.
"We're down," Kacey said over the intercom. "Gretchen, start dumping! We got wounded to load!"
Chapter Thirty-Five
"Hi, Gretchen," Dafyd Shaynav said, scrambling into the helicopter and starting to toss the boxes in the bay out the door.
"Hi, Dafyd," Gretchen replied, hefting a long, obviously heavy, package and tossing it into the howling darkness. "Where's Viktor?"
"He's...on the way," Dafyd replied as he kicked the last box of ammo out the door. "On the first stretcher."
* * *
"Hi, Gretchen," Viktor gasped as the stretcher was dumped into the holders. He was looking pretty happy given that there was a bandage bigger than his head slapped over his stomach. It was already bright red.
"Brother, I told you to be careful," Gretchen said, her face working. The Ranger medic had shown her how to start an IV and she pulled out a bag of O positive blood, hanging it from a hook and sliding the IV into her brother's arm even as another body was dumped on the floor.
The man wasn't anyone she recognized, a fat man in Islamic clothing, his hands, feet and mouth bound with rigger tape.
"Another passenger," Dafyd said. "You're going to be heavy loaded."
She felt of Viktor's pulse then looked at the next casualty. Piotr Mahona had taken a bullet through the upper thigh, breaking his femoral bone but missing the artery. He, too, was in pretty good spirits, courtesy of two ampoules of morphine.
Juris Devlich had a head wound and was unconscious. She'd been told that head wounds bled rather spectacularly but the bloody mess of bandage was dripping already and the floor of the helicopter was becoming slick. His pulse was weak and thready. She took down the Automatic Defibrillator and, pulling open his uniform top, attached the leads to his chest. If his heart stopped beating, it was supposed to automatically restart it. One of the Ranger medics had told her to do that for the worst of the casualties but she had no clue what the damned thing did.
Vitali Kulcyanov was unconscious, too, a big bandage on his chest. There was blood coating his mouth and it had run down his face and into his hair.
Varlam Makanee had picked up grenade splinters in his calf and lifted himself into the helicopter, sliding to the rear and propping himself on the back wall.
"Hello, Gretchen," he said, grimacing but trying to sound light. "Nice night for flying don't you think?"
