“Let’s make the call,” Mitch said. “I like it.”
“Agreed,” Paul said. “Maybe we can get some help from the base.”
“To monitor their flights,” Jack cut in excitedly. “Hell, if they can get an AWAC in the air, they would know where these assholes launch from, and then no more secret base.”
Mitch had already begun unpacking the radio. He set up a place for it, and the antennae, out in the open. He began calling in while Jack, Paul, and Steve unloaded the rocket launchers and weapons. Twenty minutes later, Mitch motioned for Jack to come over. Paul and Steve came with him.
“I’ve explained the situation from when we ambushed the trucks, and they say they have been hitting the bases we suspected were spread across the country. They had the coordinates for all of the UN bases, and wiped them out these past few days. General Anthony has been in charge, and did order nuclear strikes against the countries we know were involved. We suffered only a few internal strikes the Red Chinese set up. The Russians are hanging back, because the plague got loose there, and really screwed them up. The Base guys are talking because they think this might be the last of them.”
“They think this base we were attacked from was never on the charts. They hit the UN base in the Sierras already. They believe we’ve found one they constructed undercover. Jack… we can end this. They have the radar up and ready; and are waiting for a target for the F16’s, which they already have prepped to do this base for good. They never questioned a word I told them. They smell the finish line, my brothers,” Mitch finished.
“You don’t even mean this could be the end, Mitch,” Paul mumbled. “Not THE end.”
Mitch laughed. “If you want to keep fighting, we can find another target, Paul.”
“Hell no,” Paul replied. “Let’s get into position, and get it done.”
“I’ll help gimpy. You guys beep us when you’re ready,” Mitch directed.
Mitch grabbed his brother Paul’s hand and hugged him. “I’ll see you on the other side, Paul. Steve,” Mitch added as he grabbed the man’s hand, “it’s always good to work with a professional. It’s been fun. Remember, if you have to leave Paul, it’s okay, he don’t have a dick anyway.”
“Why you…” Paul sputtered. “If you get out of this, I will twist your little head off.” Paul shook hands with Jack, and turned to make his way down the rock-hewn face. Steve followed with a little wave towards Mitch and Jack.
Mitch moved ahead of Jack, only looking back to make sure he didn’t get too far ahead. He could hear Jack begin to breathe more heavily as the added weight of weapons, and ammunition, coupled with the snowshoes and terrain, took its toll. Mitch had shouldered the rocket launcher, and two AK-47’s, including bandoleers of ammunition. Jack carried his sniper rifle, and the pack with rockets for the launcher. They reached their position ten minutes later. The place they picked overlooked the valley, with boulders strewn haphazardly around in a vague semicircle of cover. Mitch dropped his packs, and weapons, and gave Jack a hand with his. Jack handed them over gratefully, taking out his thermos, and a plastic baggy, half filled with aspirin. After popping a few of the tablets, and taking a gulp of the tea, he poured another cup for Mitch.
“Well… old man,” Mitch said, “can you really shoot this cannon and hit anything?”
Jack laughed as he finished off his tea. “I guess we’ll find out.”
A flash from the opposite side of the valley let them know Steve and Paul were in position. Mitch signaled back, and the brothers began setting up for the attack. Jack placed the rifle this time on its fold out stand attachment, near a rotted tree. With a tarp he had brought, Jack made a rest for the rifle over the snow covered rock he chose. He forced it down solidly through the tarp and soft snow, until it rested firmly. He positioned himself painfully down in the snow, and sighted the rifle towards the open entry to the valley from the East. When he assured himself he could cover a sufficient area, Jack straightened. He took out a set of high-powered binoculars, which he handed to Mitch. Mitch scanned the sky, and adjusted the binoculars to his face. He had already loaded everything, and they were as ready as they could be.
“How long do you think we have Jack.”
“I wish I knew, Mitch. I’m glad we have foul weather gear; because otherwise, we would be frozen solid long before we ever saw any action in this cold”
“Do you want me to set up a lean-too or anything?”
“No. The air feels as if it will be still for the next couple of hours, and it will be over by then… listen.” Jack held up his hand.
Mitch raised the high-powered glasses to his eyes, and began scanning again. He thought he heard a faint buzz, but nothing more. Slowly scanning from side to side, with only a minute movement downward, Mitch mentally graphed his search area, so as not to miss the attackers. His search abruptly ended, and he read off coordinates to Jack, which would help him bring the scoped rifle to bear on the targets. Jack used the interface, bordering the scope, to coordinate the rifle with Mitch’s sighting.
After a few seconds of moving incrementally, as he followed each update from Mitch, Jack found the incoming targets. They looked to be still three miles away, and were relatively small in the lens. Jack continued to track them. He figured the closest he would let them come would be one mile. He asked Mitch to give him his best guess as to when he thought the targets were at one mile. The sky remained blue and clear, with the sun not a factor.
Using the binoculars distance reference, Mitch relayed, and counted down the distance from two miles. Jack watched the figures growing larger by the second, and clicked off the safety. Mitch called out one and one half miles, and Jack began to sight in earnest. With the helicopters approaching almost straight for them, Jack felt he had a chance. He counted four, staggered back in a line, one behind the other. Watching, as the darkened windshield of the first helicopter grew in size in his telescopic cross hairs, Jack took up the slack on the trigger, and squeezed off his first round. The makeshift pad helped, but the pain of the recoil almost tore the rifle from his grasp. He worked the bolt quickly, and brought the rifle to bear again right away. The armor-piercing bullet caused the helicopter windshield to explode inward on its occupants, and Jack could not follow the now plummeting helicopter. He heard Mitch yelp with delight, as he readjusted the rifle on the other helicopters. They spread formation as he squeezed off another round, which pierced the second helicopter broadside as it turned. Smoke began to issue from its panel. Mitch jumped from behind the boulder where he crouched, and braced himself against it, rocket launcher to his shoulder.
Jack fired another round at the smoking helicopter, which tore through its tail section. The helicopters were closing fast, when Jack looked to where his brother stood. “What the fuck are you doing?” Jack shouted as Mitch glanced at him, and smiled.
Mitch turned towards the approaching enemy, and screamed, “Wolverines!” He fired the rocket launcher.
The second helicopter blew apart in a dazzling explosion. The third and fourth helicopters turned towards Mitch. Jack took aim at the leading one, and fired at what he believed to be about seven hundred yards. The pain in his ribs caused him to flinch. The shot struck the lower framing, tearing metal away, and causing the helicopter to veer. Mitch had reloaded his launcher; and as he crawled out to fire again, he watched the trail of two stingers streaking towards the now lurching third helicopter. Both struck, making it disappear in the resulting fireball. The fourth helicopter shot rockets, and twenty-millimeter cannon. The shots blew the outcropping away, just below Jack and Mitch. They threw themselves backwards away from the blast. Mitch rolled towards his AK-47, which he scrambled up on one knee to fire. The short bursts raked across the weaving helicopter, as it tried to reposition itself to fire again. The concussion from the explosion caused Jack to lose his rifle in the snow, and he twisted painfully towards the other AK-47, still lying near where Mitch fired.
Jack noted Mitch had regained his feet. Jack saw him pop
in another clip, still yelling Wolverines, as he continued to fire at the looming helicopter.
Jack lurched to his feet, and with the AK-47 in hand, reached his brother’s side. He opened fire on the helicopter too, as the last word of a movie character in the old movie ‘Red Dawn’ still pierced through the din of battle, to bring a smile to his lips.
The twenty-millimeter cannon fire punched its way towards them, as the helicopter righted itself above the ridge. As the first shots tore the boulders apart, sending rock chips spewing in all directions, two more missiles struck the helicopter. The fiery result threw both men backwards into the air, and onto the rock bed twenty feet behind them. The stillness and silence of the battle’s end engulfed the landscape, as the two brothers lie unconscious in the snow. Jack came to first, and rolled slowly to his side. He sat up as he took stock of his injuries. Blood dripped from his nose, and his head wound throbbed under its bandage.
He crawled to where Mitch lay, half twisted to his side. Jack gently pulled him over onto his back. Blood streamed from a deep gash at his hairline, but Jack couldn’t find any other wounds. He took some snow up in his hand and pressed it to the gash. Mitch’s ragged breathing stopped momentarily, and he turned his head from side to side, opening his eyes. He looked blankly up at Jack, squinting at his face while trying to focus.
“Can you move your arms and legs, Mitch?”
Mitch stopped twisting for a moment, and began moving his fingers, arms, feet, and finally his legs. “Yep. I am alive and destined for greatness, my brother. We should carve our names on one of these boulders, and name the battle like in ‘Red Dawn’.”
“You are full of shit even when you’re hurt,” Jack said in relief. “Besides, they only did it in the movie when you died.”
“Oh,” Mitch said thoughtfully, “that’s right. Well, does grossly injured count?”
“Can you sit up, or should I start carving.”
“Not just now,” Mitch answered. “I feel like the top of my head is missing. Did we ‘whup ‘em Josie’?”
“Whupped ‘em again, boy’,” Jack replied, playing along with Mitch’s mimic of the movie ‘Outlaw Josie Wales’. “Do you know the lines to every movie you ever watched?”
“You should talk. It doesn’t bother you to either answer, or know the reference for every line I come up with?”
“I guess you got me there,” Jack admitted. “You try and sit up whenever you’re ready, and I’ll sing a few bars of Amazing Grace.” As Jack began to sing, Mitch pushed himself up to a sitting position.
“All right… all right, I’m up. There’s no need to get nasty.”
Jack helped Mitch to his feet. He heard a noise back the way they had come. Jack pulled the automatic from its holster at his side, and crouched as he turned to the sound.
“Hold your fire, you nitwit,” Paul shouted as he and Steve came into view. “There ain’t anything alive on this cliff but us rednecks.”
The two men joined them as Mitch regained his feet, and straightened. Paul walked over quickly, and grabbed Mitch around the waist to support him. “I guess I’ll have to put off twisting your head around until later.”
“Yeah… well you can catch up on the payback later when your dick grows back,” Mitch replied smiling.
“I saw El Dumbo doing his Red Dawn performance through the binoculars,” Paul said. “You should have shot him, Jack, for endangering the mission.”
“I thought about it. I figured maybe he was trying to die right in front of my eyes.”
“It was a once in a lifetime chance,” Mitch stated. “Nothing could ever take the place of standing on the edge of a cliff, with a boulder at your back, and a rocket launcher on your shoulder, facing off with a helicopter firing twenty- millimeter cannon shot and missiles. What a rush! No one can ever take that one away, and it wouldn’t have been the same without an audience. Jack… tell me you didn’t get off when we were standing side by side, with only AK-47s between us, and certain death.”
“And you screaming ’Wolverines’, but we haven’t stayed alive these past few years with stunts like that. As it turned out, death was not so certain, thanks to Paul and Steve.”
“That’s the point,” Mitch continued, “we didn’t know that.”
“You know we have a live helicopter a little ways away, right,” Steve asked.
Jack left Paul to help Mitch to a spot where he could bandage his head wound, and joined Steve at the cliff’s edge. Steve pointed downwards to where Jack could see minute amounts of smoke curling up from within the forest across the valley, where the first helicopter had spiraled downwards. Steve handed him the binoculars. Jack saw some movement through the trees.
“I guess you know we could use to talk to one of them,” Steve said.
“Actually Steve, I was trying to figure the distances for either my rifle or a Stinger missile.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know why they seem so interested in the one antidote shipment we managed to get our hands on? Why don’t they nuke us from orbit, instead of these raids, which are proving very hazardous to their men and material?”
Jack stared at his friend for a moment. “Do you have a theory, Steve? To tell the truth, I’m starting to think we are near the end, and I don’t give a shit why these assholes do anything anymore.”
Steve laughed. “I thought maybe by the way you’ve been talking, you might well be thinking that. Seriously though, we need to stay focused for a little while longer, and make sure of the details in this dirty business.”
“I guess,” Jack began, and then paused. “I mean I know you’re right, Steve. It’s so convoluted anymore, I’m beginning to question what any of this means. It’s hard to understand, or keep in perspective, what a handful of men and kids would have to do with saving the free world.”
“We’ve been at this for a long time Jack,” Steve agreed. “I know how you’re feeling; but think if we make a mistake which does screw things up, and adds more time to this crap.”
Jack nodded, and returned his gaze to the forest below. “I guess we better find out”
The approach of jets in the distance stopped Jack in mid-sentence. He and Steve hurried to where Paul sat wrapping Mitch’s head wound.
“Paul! We need to get a Stinger ready now. Do you have anything left?”
“We don’t have anything, Jack,” Steve cut in. “We each had two apiece, and that was it.”
“I still have one I loaded when the helicopter blew the ridge,” Mitch said.
Jack dug around in the debris, looking hurriedly for the rocket launcher Mitch had lost. The jets approached noisily from where the helicopters had come, streaking towards them. Jack stopped scrambling around in the snow, as he saw the jets discharge missiles. He looked over at his friend, and his two brothers, for what he thought was the last time. The missiles hit where they had left the radio channel open. As the jets streaked by, the entire mountain rocked from the force of the blast, and the four men retreated hurriedly into the woods surrounding the cliffs.
“I think they’ve decided we are no longer worth capturing,” Jack said.
“No shit, Sherlock… whatever gave you that idea,” Paul said.
They heard the sound of the jets returning, and ducked out of sight, as if it would help hide their location.
“Should we try firing at them,” Paul asked, “or are we going to just crouch under this bush until they get tired of blowing up the mountain.”
“If anyone’s alive in that helicopter,” Mitch interjected, “those jets will have our general location in no time. We have to get away from here.”
The mountain rocked again, as the fighters unloaded a barrage into the area to the left of their old position. “Uh oh,” Steve said. “I think someone knows where we are.”
They watched the jets begin to circle again. Paul picked up his AK-47, and then tossed it down again in disgust. As they watched the approach, they saw multiple smoke trails, and the Mig fighters disintegrated before th
eir eyes. The debris dropped into the snow-covered forest below, as the echoes of the missile blasts faded away slowly.
“Son of a bitch…” Steve mumbled in awe.
“Yes!” Paul shouted, pumping his fist in the air. “Eat that you commie pricks.”
Six United States fighters streaked past them, heading in the direction the enemy fighters had entered the valley from.
“I guess that answers the question of whether they could track what was going on. The base we’ve been taking a pounding from can no longer be thought of as a secret,” Jack said, watching the dwindling trails. “Those boys sure look good. I hope they have enough firepower to do the job.”
Chapter 10
The Soldier
“Did you guys bring the radio with you when you came up?” Mitch asked.
“It’s where we were… safe and sound,” Steve answered. “I’ll go get it… I should…”
“I’ll get it, Steve,” Paul interrupted. “Someone finish this pea brain’s bandage job, and I’ll be here with the radio in no time.”
Paul picked up his rifle, and headed towards where Steve and he had been stationed. Steve kept watch on the downed helicopter with his binoculars, while Jack finished dressing Mitch’s head wound.
“Hey, we’ll be like twins now Jack,” Mitch quipped as he pointed to Jack’s dingy head bandage, "but mine’s whiter than yours. ha… ha.”
Jack smiled. “I’m lucky mine stayed on at all. You guys are better at bandaging wounds than I would have given you credit for. If not for the way you wrapped my chest, I would have a couple ribs sticking out my back. I’d look like that guy in the movie who could pop bones and spikes out of his skin. You know which one I’m…”
American Survival (DeLeo's Action Thriller Singles Book 5) Page 10