“OK, let’s do it. Safeties off.”
The four men spread out in a U formation, moving cautiously. Voices became audible after about 50 feet, and sounded as if they were below them and somewhat to the west. They adjusted their course in attempt to surround the source of the sound on three sides. As they advanced, the light of a clear area in the trees began to appear. The soil was soft under their feet, helping them remain silent.
Mark felt in a heightened state of alertness. His weapon was ready. His mouths felt dry, and his forehead and palms damp.
Individual voices could be made out in front of them.
“I killed one of your brats, and I’ll kill the other if you don’t tell us where they are hiding.”
“I don’t know anything about soldiers, cried a woman’s voice. She was wimpering.”
Mark was able to make out figures in the sunlight before them. Six armed men dressed in green uniforms were carrying rifles. They appeared to be holding on to a boy of about 11, while two adults were bound to chairs placed in the open. It looked like a man and a woman. The man did not appear to be conscious, and was clearly bleeding from wounds to the head and upper body. At their feet was what appeared to be the body of another child, possibly a girl. It looked as if the child had been shot in the head.
Mark and the others inched forward. Manzanita and elm trees provided good cover.
“Give it up you bitch, we know you saw them.”
One man backhanded the seated woman, knocking her head far to the side. She was still conscious, but just barely.
“What the hell were these bastards doing?” thought Mark.
The man was about to strike the woman again when the boy pulled away from his captor and ran towards the bush Clawson was hiding behind. The boy dodged and turned as if he expected bullets to follow him, but the men were slow to react. The boy ran right past Clawson, clearly seeing the camouflaged soldier, but not stopping.
“Fuck! You let the little bastard get away. Get the fuck up and get him or shoot him. I don’t give a damn which, just get him.”
His would-be captor shrugged his shoulders, grabbed his rifle, and started jogging straight towards the path the boy had taken. He held his rifle across his chest, military style. He was heading right for Clawson.
Mark saw in a flash that there was no time to pull back. The jogging man would see Clawson in a few seconds. They had to react.
Clawson had switched his machine gun to three-shot mode. He had the gun aimed at the space the soldier would occupy as he rounded the bush Clauson was crouched behind. The shots hit the running soldier in the chest at the same moment his brain connected with the image of a Clawson aiming a gun at him. The look of surprise stayed on his face as he fell forward. The soldier’s body was instantly still.
Although the machinegun’s suppressor reduced the noise considerably, there was no way that the other men could miss the sound of three shots. The reacted instinctively. Mark heard Menard’s sniper rife on his right just as Mark fired at the man nearest himself. Two men fell. Hirotomi fired a burst from the left and caught another man running towards the house, but the last two made it through the front door. The two prisoners tied up in chairs did not appear to have been hit by stray bullets, but were not looking in good shape.
There was a moment of silence. They could not see through the two windows of the cabin. The walls appeared to be made of thick lumber. The sniper rife would have no trouble penetrating, but it was questionable if the 9mm machine gun bullets would go through.
Mark signaled both Menard and Hirotomi to move further. He wanted them to cover the back side of the building, in case the cabin had a rear door. Mark and Clauson move a bit closer, but stayed behind good cover.
The silence was broken when chairs flew out both windows, breaking and removing almost all of the glass. There was another pause, and then a quick burst of machinegun fire. Amazingly, it was aimed at the two civilians tied in the chairs. Both took multiple hits. The woman’s head slumped and blood began to drip onto the ground from both of the corpses.
“Shit. What are these animals thinking of?” thought Mark.
He looked over at Clauson, who was shrugging his shoulders. Why would they waste bullets killing the civilians? It made no sense.
Another burst of machinegun fire came out of the building, strafing the position that Hirotomi had left just a moment ago. These weren’t amateurs.
The situation looked like a standoff to Mark. That was the last thing he needed. They needed to get out of here, but they could not leave these bastards holed up in the cabin. Mark carefully backed up and moved over next to Clauson.
“Got any ideas?” he whispered.
“Might have. There is no window on the north side of the cabin. If I were to put a shaped charge against that wall, facing inward, it might impale the bastards with enough wood fragments to put them out of action. At the very least it will give us a chance to move in a finish them off.”
“OK, let’s do it. I’ll be right behind you, and cover you if need it.”
Another quick burst of machine gun fire from the cabin. This burst landed right around them. The pine tree they were against stopped anything from hitting them, but it was too close.
“I’ll put a little suppressing fire through those windows. Move on the second burst.”
Mark selected three-shot mode and aimed at the far window. He put three shots right at the bottom of the window’s frame, and then repeated it with the other window. Clauson was running. For good measure, Mark put another three rounds through the doorway, and then crouched down.
Clauson was already next to the north wall, and unpacking a charge. Mark could not see either Menard or Hirotomi from this position. Mark decided to keep the bastards busy with a bit more fire. Just as he was rising to take aim the side of the tree exploded. He crouched back down, realizing that a high power rifle bullet had just missed him.
Mark then became conscious of a warm feeling on his left shoulder. Damn, he had been hit! He felt with his right hand, and felt blood. Pulling his hand back, he got a wave of nausea as he saw his fingers covered with blood. Regaining some composure he moved his left arm around. He had full movement, and so far no pain. It must be a superficial wound. He pulled a bandana out of his side pocket, folded it, and stuffed it on top of the wound. That would have to do for now, he was busy.
Clauson was backing up from the house. He dropped back behind the bluff of a small streambed. Mark backed up, and then crawled along the bid to reach him.
“All set?”
“Ready when you are. You know you got hit?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think its bad. Let me signal Hirotomi.”
Mark raised his head and looked around. He knew that he would not be able to see Menard from here, but Hirotomi should be in sight. He finally picked Hirotomi’s face out of the surroundings and made a sign that they were going to advance on his signal.
“Do it!”
Clauson twisted the detonator, sending a spike of current down the wires to the explosives. Clauson had fashioned a small cone of pastic explosive and placed the detonator at the apex of the cone. The detonation waves expanded towards the house, with the cone shape putting most of the force straight through the wall. The effect was to send a three foot shard of the north wall moving at supersonic speed through the rest of the house.
Mark, Clauson, and Hirotomi raced up the bank towards the huge opening in the wall. Hirotomi went in first. His first burst went off just as Clauson went through the hole.
Mark was last. Clauson and Hirotomi were looking at the two men crumpled on the floor. Both were covered with hundreds of small wounds on the side of their body that had faced the north wall. A number of the wounds had wood splinters protruding from the openings. Hirotomi had put bullet through the larger man’s head. The second one did not appear to need any more help on the way to Hell.
Mark went out the front door to look for Menard, and survey the damage. Menard was no
t visible.
The gruesome scene of the two dead parents seated facing their dead daughter caught Mark by surprise. He was suddenly violently sick. He vomited several times. He stayed on his knees, trying to regain some control over his stomach and his emotions.
“Hey boss, this one’s still alive.”
Hirotomi came out dragging the smaller man, and then stopped when he saw Mark kneeling before a pool of vomit.
“Shit, I did not realize you were hit. Let me take a look at that.”
Hirotomi dropped the man and walked over to Mark. He started examining Mark’s shoulder when a loud shot rang out. Both men dropped to the dirt, and then realized that it was Menard who had fired. Menard was walking towards them and was staring at their captive. Looking to the side they saw that the injured soldier held a pistol in his hand, but was missing most of his head.
“Little bastard was about to shoot you too. Best not to leave their kind untied.”
“Thanks Menard. I owe you big time.”
“Me too Menard. That was sloppy and way too close.”
Mark sat down on the porch. Without being asked, Hirotomi got out the dressings and covered the hole in Mark’s shoulder. The bullet had taken a chunk out of his shoulder muscle, but it would heal.
* * *
They did a quick search of the house and of the soldier’s belongings. There was nothing of any military value in the house. It appeared than the family had been living mostly from canned goods. No sign that they were doing any hunting or farming. Probably had just tried to get away from the war, and had failed miserably.
The soldiers were missing the usual arm bracelets with their names and ID numbers. Suspiciously, none of the solders had any other form of identification. No photos of girlfriends, no letters from home, nothing. The corpse inside of the house, who had been the one striking the woman, had maps and simple navigation gear, but no written orders or communications equipment.
“Spooks” said Hirotomi. “Only explanation I can see for their being so clean.”
“Funny kind of spook that wares a uniform. They sure knew how to shoot.” Clauson was finishing going over the last body in front of the house.
“Why were they torturing the familiy, and why did they shoot the parents as soon as we showed up?” asked Hirotomi.
“I don’t know, but let’s see if we can get the identity of the family before we leave. Someone in base is bound to be interested.”
Mark went back inside, and found a small cash of letters in a larger envelope. He shoved it into his pack and came back out.
“We’d better get away from here. We made a lot of noise, and who knows who might have heard. Any sign of the boy that ran away?”
“Not so far.”
“Damn.”
* * *
Five miles out Mark signaled a halt. It was already starting to get dark, and they were miles from their destination.
“Not a chance we will make the planned destination, and we are on way too low ground to make a clear transmission back to base. I think we should find a safe place to camp and call it a day.”
“No arguments with that,” said Menard.
“Hate to bring this up boss, but I’ve been having the weird sensation that we’re being followed,” said Hirotomi, who had been in the number four spot.
“Shit. We’d better check that out before we camp. We made so damn much noise back there that we could have woken the dead.” Mark was shaking his head.
“Look,” Mark said pointing at Clawson. “You and Hirotomi take positions on either side of the path where you can’t be seen. Menard and I will continue for another half mile, and then wait for you. If you don’t see anything in a hour, come down the path and join us. Give two whistles if everything is clear, so that we don’t shoot you. Give no whistles if there is anything wrong. Got it?”
Hirotomi and Clawson nodded. They could use a break in the hiking, but were not looking forward to meeting what might be behind them.
* * *
An hour and fifteen minutes later, Mark heard two whistles. They appeared a few minutes later. Between them was a small boy. It looked like the same child that had run past them at the house.
“We found out who was following use. Him!”
“Has he said anything?” asked Mark.
“Not a word. Looks like he went back and got some warm cloths and his backpack before following us. I don’t think he had this stuff on when he ran by me.” Clauson had a good memory.
“I’m corporal Kauf,” said Mark. “What’s your name?”
The child looked at Mark, but did not say anything. Mark tried a few more times, but no success.
“Here, let me try,” said Menard. He got down on his knees and spoke to the boy.
“Je m’appelle Jacque Menard. Je suis un private dans l’army de sud. Que s’appelle tois?”
The boy responded immediately in French. Menard appeared to be asking him a series of questions and getting good replies. Manard set his pack down and found some dried fruit to hand to the boy while they were talking.
“The boy’s name is Jean-Claude Dupont. He says that his father was a biologist. They had been living on the edge of a town called Trintney. His father was working in a secret factory with lots of soldiers. His father became worried about their safety, so they escaped during the night and moved up here to try to avoid the soldiers. That was about two months ago.”
“How did he end up following us?”
“He went back and saw his whole family dead. They knew no one else in the forest, and decided that we must be the good guys since we attacked the soldiers. I guess he figured out that it wasn’t us that shot his parents. He’s in shock, but one tough kid.”
“Damn tough kid. Ask him he knows what his father was doing in the factory.”
Menard spoke a bit more to the boy, and then responded to Mark’s question.
“He does not know. His father was a specialist at making medicines before the war, but would never talk about what he did once he started working in the factory.”
Mark thought about the situation.
“Look, I say we take him with us. It’s completely against our orders, but he has nowhere else to go. Besides, I think what he knows about his father’s work is the best intelligence we are likely to collect this trip. You all agree?”
“Damn straight. Let me stay with him, since I’m the only one who speaks French. Someone else better take point.”
“I’ll take point,” said Hirotomi.
Mark smiled, proud at his squad’s teamwork.
“Fine, you two will just switch positions. See if you can find us a place to camp in the next couple of miles Hirotomi. I’ve had enough for one day.”
The five of them disappeared amongst the darkened trees.
Major Walters had found a reasonable cover for John Young to visit camp Williams. The first two production models of the latest Y class planes were being finished in the assembly area. It was customary for top pilots to examine the planes before they were completely assembled, as many of the internal systems were not accessible once construction was complete. Seeing the plane now would allow John to visualize the “inards”, information which he would pass along as part of the training program when the machines showed up for combat.
Of course the real reason for the visit was to see Sara and to enlist her in the tricky business of finding the leak in Section 12. John’s Aunt Rebecca, who was Sara’s Great Aunt, lived in town a short distance from Camp Williams. John had asked Aunt Rebecca to invite Sara and himself to dinner. Aunt Rebecca sensed that there was a reason for the request, but was nevertheless delighted to see them both. She was 81 years old, but still kicking, and the meeting gave her a chance to do some real cooking for her extended family.
John silently laughed at himself after he told Barbara that he was going to see is daughter for the day. He was already acting married. The truth was, John really liked Barbara. Having a woman back in his life also affected
his thinking about the war. He wanted badly to survive so that he could spend more time with her. He was feeling a bit more mortal than a few days ago.
John checked out a horse from the base stable. He was lucky, Diablo was available. John and Diablo had an understanding. John did not push Diablo too hard and Diablo did not try to knock John out of the saddle. It was always clear that Diablo was in charge anytime John rode him, but this was probably better than the other way around. At least Diablo knew what he was doing.
The road from the base to Camp Williams was well traveled, but covered some beautiful countryside. The Outpost Base was about 2000 feet higher than Camp Williams, so it was a mostly downhill trip along the Neder river. The hills on either side of the road transitioned from pine to deciduous trees as John and Diablo made their way. Diablo seemed in a particularly good mood today, and was obviously enjoying the ride as much as John. There was always the remote chance that a sniper had managed to infiltrate this far south and take a shot at a lone soldier on horseback. John did not let it worry him. There were too many other things on his mind.
John dismounted s they approached the main gate. The guards noted on the daily orders that he was expected and offered to take Diablo to the Camp Williams stables while John went to see the CO.
“Make sure he is well fed. I’ll be taking him back at about 8pm tonight.”
“Yes sir, he’ll get a meal of the finest oats Sir!”
So the guards had a sense of humor. John passed Diablo’s reigns to a private and walked directly to the headquarters building. Lt. Commander Griffith’s office was on the second floor. John had to pass by the Lt. Commander’s aid-de-camp to get to his office. The aid was an attractive female lieutenant with long brown hair. She was expecting John, rose and said a few words through the crack in the door, and then showed John into the office. The aid stepped back out and left the two men alone.
“Captain John Young reporting Sir.”
“At ease Captain. Glad you could get down here so quickly. No trouble in transit I hope.”
“None sir. It was a beautiful spring day. I’m not much of a horseman, but I managed to get my favorite mount, which reduced the chance of an untimely death considerably.”
Heavier Than Air Page 9