Recovery: V Plague Book 8

by Dirk Patton

  When the transmission that Irina couldn’t hear ended he swallowed nervously and looked up.

  “Comrade Captain,” he said in Russian. “The pilot reports that he is under instructions to clear any GRU officers who present themselves and ask for assistance. If I may have your name-“

  That was as far as he got before Irina exploded into a tirade truly worthy of the best actress to ever grace the stage or screen. She called the Sergeant every derogatory name she could think of and threatened him with punishments that had gone out with the collapse of the old Soviet Union. Wrapping up her tirade she held her hand out, demanding the radio so she could speak directly to the pilot.

  Shaking with a terror that only the KGB or GRU could induce in a Russian soldier, the Sergeant quickly ripped the comm unit free of his uniform and handed it to her. Moments later she was repeating her tirade, screaming at the pilot over the radio. Scott and Martinez were getting nervous, exchanging quick glances.

  They trusted that Irina wasn’t betraying them but were worried that her act would backfire on them. But apparently the deep-seated fear of the GRU within the ranks of the Russian military that they’d always heard of was a reality. A few moments after the end of her latest tirade the HIND came out of its orbit into a hover and slowly descended to the pavement.

  Waving the soldiers forward so they were in front of her, Irina began marching towards the helicopter. The Sergeant was happy to sprint ahead of his small squad and put some distance between himself and the crazy, angry GRU Captain.

  Walker was sweating heavily as they approached the HIND, his eyes darting in every direction. He was looking to escape but Scott picked up on the signs and nudged Martinez, nodding at Johnnie Ray. They moved until they were walking on either side of him and Martinez hissed a warning that none of the Russians could hear over the noise of the idling HIND.

  Reaching the nose of the helo, Irina came to a halt, both groups taking their cue from her and also stopping. Waving her arms emphatically at the two pilots seated in the cockpit she gestured at the ground in front of her. The two men exchanged looks then turned back to stare at her. Scott and Martinez slowly began moving apart, making sure they had good sightlines on the four soldiers.

  That was when Johnnie Ray saw his opportunity and bolted. He made it three steps before Igor hammered him to the ground with the stock of his rifle. Seeing the opportunity, Irina shouted at the Sergeant, telling him to load the captured General into the aircraft.

  The Sergeant gestured and the two Privates leapt forward and picked up the unconscious man, dragging him to the open side door. Going with the flow, Igor motioned Scott and Martinez to follow and the group collapsed in around the soldiers that were pulling Walker along, the toes of his shoes scraping across the rough asphalt.

  Irina held them back at the door, roughly grabbing Martinez’ arm and seemingly forcing her through the opening. She followed, turning and giving Igor an almost imperceptible signal.

  “Do not kill them,” she said to Martinez in a low voice as she moved quickly to the cockpit, drawing her pistol as she made her way forward.

  Martinez went with her, a pistol appearing in one hand and a dagger in the other. The Corporal saw the weapons come out and shouted a warning, spinning and raising his weapon to bear in the direction of the two women. A shot rang out and he fell to the ground, a red hole in his temple from the pistol in Scott’s hand.

  The two Privates supporting Johnnie Ray froze in place, their mouths open in shock. Cursing, the Sergeant began to lift his weapon but stopped when Igor stepped forward and pointed his rifle at the man’s face. Scott had already swiveled and was covering the other two with his pistol.

  Between the roar of the idling engines and the noise cancelling headsets the pilots wore they didn’t hear the gunshot, and the location of the group was out of their line of sight. Unaware there was a problem, the chief pilot jerked in surprise when Irina suddenly appeared next to him and jammed the muzzle of her pistol against his neck.

  The co-pilot reacted faster than she had expected, pulling a Makarov pistol from a holster sewn into the leg of his flight suit. He was lifting it towards Irina’s head when Martinez arrived. The seat back and the man’s body were between her and the weapon that was swinging onto target and she had no option other than to ram her dagger into the back of his neck, just below the lip of the Kevlar flight helmet he wore.

  He died instantly, slumping forward. The seat harness was all that kept his body from coming to rest on the flight controls. Martinez reached around and took the pistol from his dead hand, then removed a matching weapon from the pilot’s holster. Irina had her weapon hard against his neck and he remained still as Martinez disarmed him.

  “Do you want him to shut it down?” Irina shouted.

  “No! Don’t let him touch anything!” Martinez shouted in response to be heard in the noisy cockpit.

  Irina shouted instructions in Russian as Martinez stepped back slightly. Slowly, the pilot unbuckled the harness then reached up and disconnected a thick electrical umbilical that connected his helmet to the helicopter. Under both women’s watchful eyes he cautiously pushed himself out of the seat. As he was turning to climb over a console Martinez saw his eyes flicker to a small panel with a red button covered by a clear plastic safety guard.

  In a flash almost too fast to see she flicked the bloody dagger forward, holding the blade an inch in front of the man’s face. A drop of the co-pilot’s blood dripped off and splashed onto the panel the man had looked at.

  “Nyet!” She said in a loud voice.

  They remained unmoving for a few long seconds until she took the dagger out of his face and motioned him to keep coming. She didn’t know what the button would do, but if it was something he was willing to risk his life to press she knew it wouldn’t be good.

  The pilot kept coming, even slower than before. The helmet’s sun visor was lowered and he looked like a large, bug-eyed insect when he finally emerged from the cockpit. They herded him back and out the side door to join the rest of the captives.

  Johnnie Ray was still unconscious, lying in a heap on the pavement. Scott and Igor had disarmed the three soldiers and had them face down on the ground ten yards away. After removing his helmet, Irina sent the pilot to join them. Martinez looked in the direction of the Bradley where Colonel Crawford had been covering them with a TOW missile in case things went bad and the HIND needed to be shot down. She waved an ‘all clear’ and a moment later he emerged from the rear and trotted over to them.

  37

  I sat patiently, waiting, after the sound of the helicopter’s rotor faded away into the distance. Just because they’d flown out of earshot didn’t mean they were leaving. I was pretty confident that was the case, but then they could simply be leaving the area and making a big circle to come back from a different direction. Low and fast over the rooftops, suddenly appearing overhead without anyone on the ground having enough advance warning of their approach to take cover.

  Not at all beyond the realm of possibility, and the thought had occurred to me because I’d done the same thing a couple of times in the past. Well, had gotten the pilot to do it, but it all works out the same. If your target is in the area and isn’t expecting you to suddenly show back up it’s a great way to catch him unaware. It had worked both times I’d done it and I wasn’t about to be impatient or foolish enough for it to work on me.

  So, I sat there and watched the infected wander around through the insurance office’s front windows. More had arrived and there were too many to count, more females than males. I had a plan to deal with them when the time came to go get Katie and Dog. I just had to be patient and stay quiet and still until then.

  The afternoon was wearing on, long shadows from the handful of trees in the area stretching across the pavement when I finally was comfortable the Russians weren’t coming back. Moving to the back door I peeked through the spy-hole, seeing three males just standing there where the dead soldiers had been. Mayb
e they could still smell the blood and were sticking to the area waiting for a meal to appear.

  I didn’t know and didn’t waste any time trying to figure out why they would do something. Cracking the door open I looked through the gap to make sure there wasn’t a larger group that would pounce as soon as I stepped out, but other than the three the alley looked clear. The males heard the sound of the door opening and as one, spun in my direction and snarled.

  Lifting my rifle I fired three quick, suppressed shots, stepping over the bodies and looking around to make sure I was still alone. Not seeing anything, I hefted the Russian grenade launcher and sighted on a two-story business on the next block behind the alley. I pulled the trigger twice, sending two high explosive grenades on their way.

  Grenade launchers are nowhere near as loud as a rifle or pistol when fired, but they still make enough noise to give away your position. I was already in motion when the first grenade struck the air conditioning unit on the building’s roof and detonated with a thunderous explosion. I was back through the opening and pulling the door closed behind me when the second one arrived. I didn’t see what it struck, but it was loud too.

  Flipping the lever to lock the deadbolt, I moved through the gloomy interior to look out the front windows. The street was already clear of females who had instantly responded by breaking into a sprint towards the sound of the grenades. There were still males visible but they were all moving in the same direction the females had gone. Away from the department store.

  I gave them half a minute to open some distance before quietly slipping out the front door and running down the street to where Dog and Katie were hiding. Yanking the front door open I entered the store with a great deal of caution. I didn’t believe any infected had made it inside but I wasn’t going to take a chance.

  There weren’t any in the front of the store and I glanced over my shoulder through the windows to check the street before pushing into the storage area. Street still clear, I nudged one of the swinging doors open with the muzzle of my rifle, stepped up to hold it with my back and scanned with the night vision scope. Still nothing.

  “It’s me,” I raised my voice to let Katie know not to shoot when I began pulling boxes out of the way, and also to draw out any infected that might be in hiding.

  Nothing charged at me screaming or began a slow, shambling walk in my direction. Quickly I moved to the stack of cartons on the back wall and started tossing them aside, unconcerned with being neat or tidy. I grinned when a box tumbled out of the way and Dog shoved his head through the opening to greet me.

  I stopped working long enough to briefly ruffle his ears then widened the opening until he jumped through. Katie followed, extending her arm out for me to help her clamber free. Pulling her to her feet I crushed her against me and kissed her.

  “I missed you, too,” she smiled when I stepped back. The smile disappeared when she saw the blood soaking my clothes. “What happened? You’re bleeding!”

  “Nothing,” I said, trying to dismiss it.

  “What was nothing before can kill you now,” she said, taking the light off her rifle and scanning around.

  Spotting a green cabinet labeled first aid, she rushed over to the wall and opened the door. She rummaged through until she found what she wanted before returning to me and making me take my vest and shirt off.

  “We don’t have time for this,” I complained as I unbuttoned my shirt.

  “Shut up,” she said, leaning in to see.

  She dumped about half a bottle of hydrogen peroxide directly into the wound. It hurt, but I’m a big tough guy and didn’t complain. Much. Patting the area dry she smeared the raw flesh with antibiotic ointment and slapped a large gauze pad on top, securing it to me with white medical tape. I started to put the bloody shirt back on, but she stopped me and told me to take my pants off.

  “Great idea, but we really don’t have time for that,” I said, drawing an exasperated sigh as she rolled her eyes.

  While I took my boots off and peeled the blood soaked pants down my legs, Katie cracked open one of the boxes she’d been hiding behind and dug through, checking sizes on the Levi’s that spilled out. Finding a pair, she tossed them to me and moved to a rack on the wall where new shirts were stored.

  Selecting something that would fit, she held it up while I pulled on my new jeans and stepped into my boots. I finished dressing quickly, tied my boots and situated the vest back on my upper body.

  “Is it clear outside?” Katie asked when I finished changing.

  “So far,” I said. “The Russians left a couple of hours ago. The infected are distracted and we should be able to make it to the car and get out of here.”

  Leading the way, I headed for the front of the store. Dog fell in next to my right leg as I walked.

  “Nice toy, Rambo,” Katie said, tapping the grenade launcher and looking at the bandolier of spare grenades draped across my upper body.

  “The Russians had one and I just had to have it,” I said as we reached the front door.

  The street was still clear and I pushed out through the swinging door. Katie handed me the car keys and we jogged down the street to where I’d left it parked against the bus. I breathed a sigh of relief when we got close enough to tell the canon fire from the HIND hadn’t damaged it. Pushing a button on the key, the lights flashed and the door locks popped up.

  I took a moment to pile my new toy and its spare ammo into the back seat with Dog then slipped behind the wheel and cranked the engine. The Dodge rumbled to life and I tisked when I saw the fuel gauge settle at less than a quarter of a tank. I wanted to get on the road and make as many miles as we could before it got dark and I had to lower my speed, but we were going to have to stop for gas before leaving Dodge City.

  Steering around the wrecked vehicles I’d used for camouflage I headed for the small highway we’d taken to get into town. As I turned on to it I looked up at the rearview and saw several females in hot pursuit. They’d been attracted by the snarl of the exhaust but we had too much of a head start for them to be a threat.

  I accelerated hard, heading back to the east to pick up the northbound highway that would take us to the Interstate. We had only covered a couple of miles when we passed the last sign of civilization. It was a small gas station with a Tastee Freeze built in where the service bay used to be.

  The terrain was almost perfectly flat and I couldn’t see anything between the horizon and us. Hitting the brakes and cranking the wheel I turned around and roared back to the gas station, sliding to a stop next to the access panels for the fuel tanks.

  “Same routine as last time,” I said, releasing the trunk and hood before I jumped out. “Keep an eye on the road from town. There were some females chasing as we turned onto the highway.”

  “As long as you get me a vanilla swirl from the Tastee Freeze,” Katie said sweetly.

  She moved out into the middle of the road, Dog at her side, and stood facing west with her rifle up across her chest. Once the fuel was pumping I checked the oil and needed to add a quart. The Dodge was finally showing signs of the torture I was putting it through.

  There was a small booth that sold snacks and other necessities to travelers. Next to the door was a wire rack that held a few bottles of motor oil, antifreeze and windshield washer fluid. The cap that covered the oil filler neck in the Charger was labeled with the type of oil the car needed, 5W-40 full synthetic if it matters, and there were half a dozen bright yellow bottles of Pennzoil in the display. I dumped one of them into the engine and tossed the rest into the trunk as gas began gushing out of the filler neck.

  “Females coming,” Katie called.

  “I need two minutes,” I said, dashing to disconnect the power to the pump from the battery.

  “That’s all you’ve got,” she said.

  I slammed the hood and looked up as I grabbed the pump off the ground and disconnected the two hoses. The sun was low and charging directly out of it were several figures. Dumping the p
ump into the trunk I started coiling the hoses as she began firing at the swiftly approaching females.

  Hoses stowed, I slammed the trunk and stepped into the road next to her. Rifle up, I began firing and together we finished off the last of the females. Ahh, couples therapy. Who the hell needs Dr. Phil?

  38

  “I don’t see any movement, sir.” Jessica said over the sat phone connection.

  We were on US highway 283, driving due north from Dodge City. The speedometer was solidly on 140 miles per hour and I had to stay very focused on the rough road. The sun was directly over my left shoulder, the bottom edge just beginning to brush the horizon.

  Once we’d gotten back up to speed I’d had Katie get the phone out and place a call to Jessica. I wanted to check on the progress of the Bradley as well as see if the weather had let up enough for her to at least get a thermal image of Rachel and the pilot. I asked about the Bradley first and she had taken a moment to locate it as her attention had been focused on Dodge City.

  “They’re not answering the FSOC, either. The Bradley is just parked at a small truck stop. The rear ramp is up and it appears to be buttoned up tight.”

  We could hear her working the keyboard and mouse as we waited. I can be the most patient person in the world when I’m in a combat situation, but don’t ask me to wait for information. Or for a table at a restaurant. I absolutely despise waiting to be seated and used to drive Katie nuts. Guess that wasn’t a problem any longer.

  “What are you seeing, Jessica?” I asked when I couldn’t take it any longer.

  “Nothing, sir. I thought I saw some movement around the Bradley but it was just a large bird.”

  Katie and I exchanged a glance and she shrugged her shoulders before I had to turn my attention back to my driving.

  “Stand by, sir. I’m scanning out from the Bradley in case I missed something.”