“Relax Phelan, it’s an inside joke,” the old man said seeing the serious expression on my face, “Some people are so uptight. By the way, you can call me Artair. I’m the Elder at Heartless Manor, our Druid Monastery.”
The Druids had loaded the packages and I jumped into the crowded deck and strapped down the cargo. By the time I finished, only Artair remained.
“Artair what do you mean danger to the Heart plants?” I asked looking for clarification.
“It’s the signs. Maybe you’ve seen them?” Artair asked.
“If you mean the increase of Pirate activity, shortages in the Realm and Rebel forces on Nafaka, then yes, I’ve seen signs.”
“Those plus more are disrupting the peace,” Artair replied.
“Then the Council must be aware,” I said hoping for another kind of sign like one where the troubles were being handled.
“The Council is composed of old women,” he replied, “They believe the Realm is secure. So no, nothing from on high. It’s up to the individual to care for the whole.”
“By individual, you mean people like me?” I volunteered.
“Fly safe, member of the Clan, Piran,” he said as he faded into the tall grass.
The mountains were still beautiful but, on my way to protein Landing Zone, I didn’t register their majesty. I kept turning Artair’s comments over and over in my head.
“J-Pop, this is Base, come back,” Dunya sounded rushed.
“Go Base,” I replied.
“You need to pick up your Rangers,” she advised, “They have a medical emergency. I’m sending their location to you now.”
My helicopter was near capacity. The addition of two full size men with their gear and it wouldn’t get off the ground.
“Send them,” I replied, “I will pick up.”
“Rodger J-Pop, be aware, we’re going dark in ten,” Dunya warned me, “You’re on your own.”
The Park Rangers had moved far to the northeast from the Hacienda. This put them on the other side of the mountain from the Druid monastery. My flight plan required dipping south, skirting the foothills and following them northward. I suddenly didn’t care about the troubles in the Realm. I was thinking about two injured Park Rangers who had gone into the wilds to herd a cat.
Long shadows from the mountains painted the ground shades of black and shades of gray. The low sun, now hidden behind the mountain, would soon be low enough to turn the world prematurely to twilight. I switched on the rescue beacon and began searching for the Rangers.
Their signal beeped on my consul and I adjusted my air speed so I wouldn’t over shoot them.
Chapter 54
“J-Pop, get out of here,” a strained whisper came on my radio.
We were cut off from communications from the plant and protein Stations and as Dunya had said, we were dark. The Ranger’s call meant they were line of sight to me. They could see me but I couldn’t find the Rangers in the thick trees.
“Ranger, what’s your status?” I asked.
“Rebels all around us. We’re both shot to hell and can’t move,” he replied with a moan.
A quick triangulation as I flew over gave me their exact location. At least I had…
The missile thankfully came for a low hill far ahead of me. I saw it and my training allowed me to recognize the threat immediately. Whoever had fired it had anticipated my breaking away from the mountain. That was a good plan but I scored number two in my class for Fighters. Line of flight, angle of missile attacks, converging vectors at high speeds were a Fighter jocks bread and butter. I calculated the rate and banked into the mountain. The missile shot past me. Once it was by, I broke away from the mountain.
“Get out of here,” my Ranger whispered and I heard a cough behind the receiver.
They were hurt bad if they couldn’t control a cough when surrounded by enemy forces. To leave them was the same as condemning them to death. If I had a Fighter, I could create a dead zone around them. With a GunShip, I could impose a ring of death around them, but with a helicopter, I was useless.
Base was dark for another three or so hours until plant or protein Station came into range. Nothing at any of the Landing Zones could help. Celso and his split team were too far away to help. What had Dunya asked me, are you going Grunt on us?
I maintained my altitude and powered away from the Rangers, the mountains and the Rebels. After five minutes, I dropped hard for the ground. The cargo was heavy and it took me precious minutes to slide the four packages out of the helicopter. Now lighter, I lifted off and with barely enough power to stay in the air, I flew nape of the earth back towards the mountains.
Judging distance in the dark while watching a computer readout and trying not to catch a skid and flipping over was difficult and chancy. But not as uncertain, as when, I sat her down and unzipped my gun case.
I knew the location where the Rangers were hiding. From my computer, I pulled up a topographical map and studied it. They were in a depression with a steep cliff on two sides. I figured they crawled in and covered themselves with vegetation. If the Rebels hadn’t found them by now, and if they were still alive, I had a good chance of reaching them. Getting in wasn’t the dilemma. It was getting the three of us out that was the problem.
Thanks to the Marine Corps, I knew enough to stay below the top of the hill’s crest. Night noises were my friend and as long as the creeping stopped only for me I was alone in my trek. As I neared the last of the foothills, I slowed and began to watch my footing. Many a night patrol’s stealth had fallen victim to a snapped twig.
The mountain was invisible in the pitch black. I knew I was climbing because the ground rose and I was forced to crawl up the steep terrain in places. Twice, I heard human speech but it was a good distance off. I marked their locations as places to avoid on the way back. It was getting colder, but I was sweating. And, I was coming close to decision time.
If I spoke to soon or too loudly, I’d tip off the Rebels. If I spoke too late, a Ranger would put a bullet in me. So I moved on all fours, slowly and steadily. Move, stop listen and move again, until I heard hard and raspy breathing.
“Ranger, it’s J-Pop,” I whispered than waited.
I was waiting for what, I don’t know. In a Marine unit we’d have passwords, signs and countersigns for night maneuvers. Here in the midst of my impromptu rescue, I didn’t have any of that. How to alert the Rangers a friendly was close?
Than I had an idea, “Herding cats is fun,” I whispered.
“J-Pop?” a half whisper, half cry came from directly in front of me.
“Yes,” I whispered as I crawled forward.
The rifle barrel blocked my way. Slowly, I brought my hand up and turned it to the side. On the other end of the rifle, I found a bleeding Park Ranger. I used my hands to examine him.
The first had a wet hole in his leg and another angry wound in his arm. A quick wrapping and I could feel the bandages getting damp but not leaking. Good enough for field work.
I turned to the second Ranger. His breathing was ragged. I inspected him with my hands and realized not only had he taken a round in the chest but another had ripped out a piece of his neck. Surprisingly, he wasn’t pumping arterial blood and he seemed to be able to move his neck. It ruled out spinal damage, so I counted him lucky.
Any Corpsman could administer first aid and save his life. The issue was I didn’t have a full medical kit or the light to do a complete job. What I needed was a quick fix so the man could travel.
Only one of the Park Rangers had managed to retain his pack. I shoved my hands in and rooted around. Some items I identified and discarded. Finally, I felt the cellophane wrapper of a candy bar. That I put in my pocket and went back into the backpack. Eventually, I located another candy bar. What a tasty find.
I opened the first, broke it in half and gave one part to the first Ranger. The cellophane I tore open and smoothed out. After a generous application of antibacterial salve, I placed the waterproof wrap over the
jagged neck wound. A lightly tied field dressing would hold it in place. For obvious reasons, I couldn’t use a tourniquet on a neck wound.
The second candy bar came out and I broke it into three pieces. We each chewed as I placed the wrapper over the chest wound. Once sealed, his breathing slowed and he relaxed a little.
“We’ve got to move,” I whispered first into one Ranger’s ear than I repeated it to the other. Both nodded an affirmative, which I felt because, I’d rested a hand on their heads as I talked.
I couldn’t support two men. One could limp under his own power if noise wasn’t factor. It was. The other required totally support. I decided to move them one at a time.
The first Ranger and I crawled out of the hiding place. With me on his injured side, we limped down the mountain. His breathing was loud and he stumbled. We stopped. I listened and heard voices. We waited against a tree trunk. After a few minutes, we moved to a lower tree. As we lurched along, he seemed to regain some strength.
My fear now was moonrise and becoming visible to the Rebels. The minutes ticked by and I forced us to move faster. The bottom of the mountain surprised me. Once on relatively level ground, I help the Ranger over the first low hill.
“You head east,” I whispered turning him to face in the direction, “The helicopter is out there. Get on the radio and call Base. Tell them what happened. I’m going back for your friend.”
“His name is Wassily,” he stated, “He’s a good guy. Get him out.”
“I plan to. Say, what’s your name?” I asked.
“Ashok, and I’m thankful for your help,” he said.
“Ashok, you find the helicopter and make that call, and we’ll be even,” I instructed, not caring about regulations.
I watched him stagger towards the east. In a few hours the moon would rise and this area and the mountain side would be bathed in weak but dangerous light. Ashok topped the next hill and I turned back towards the mountain.
The way back was filled with mental traps. Had I rushed, as my brain screamed at me to do, I’d be dead. Memory is tricky, especially when you’re crossing ground that you’ve already traversed. In my mind the stick was further to my right, it wasn’t, I almost tripped over it. The voices I attempted to circumvent were closer and I almost walked into their camp. It went like that until I slowed and forced myself to forget I’d been through the area before.
I slithered forward with a hand out, placing one foot at a time as slowly and carefully as possible. The steep rise came as a welcome sign. Remembering hand holds allowed me to move quickly up the slope. As the ground became less steep, I searched for the second Park Ranger.
The Ranger was asleep, or passed out, when I slid into the depression. In either case, he didn’t stir until I shook him.
“Wassily, we can’t stay here,” I whispered, “We’ve got to move. Are you with me?”
“With you,” he murmured as he attempted to stand.
“Lean on me,” I said placing an arm around his waist.
Together we crawled up the side of their hideout and managed to reach a tree at the top of the steep place. He was swaying even with my support. For a second, I thought of simply pushing him down the hill, fighting off the Rebels, and collecting what was left after the tumble down the hill. Wassily wouldn’t survive that and I realized my nerves were reaching a breaking point. I didn’t know how the Ranger felt but I just wanted to lay down and take a nap. Some Clan Warrior, I was turning out to be.
Lay down?
Why not. I leaned my back into the Ranger and looped my shoulder rig around his waist. The other loop, I attached to my belt. Turning so our backs were to the slope, I knelt than laid down on the ground. Wassily didn’t have a choice, he ended on top of me.
I crept over the crest of the hill and we began the decent. As we dropped down, soft moonlight lit the highest branches. I scramble a little quicker. The human voices were rising as the Rebels prepared to begin their search with the aid of the dim light. We were almost at the bottom when a Rebel shouted out.
Suddenly the hill on either side of us was filled with the sounds of men cursing and struggling to climb. We were on the steepest part and, as luck would have it, the Rebels avoided it. They flowed around us. Once the last Rebel had moved up hill from our position, I used my knees and hands to propel us downward. As quickly and quietly as possible, I rushed us towards the bottom of the mountain.
With the Rebels high above, I unhooked Wassily and we staggered down the mountain. Behind us, there was more shouting and the voices collected in one area. I could only guess, they’d found the Rangers hiding place. Before long, they’d be coming back down the hill and the Ranger and I were still not at the foothills. He moaned and stumbled. I ignored his discomfort and drove us onward.
The moon came up big and bright. Almost like a cloudy day but with long shadows. The illumination brought the trees into view. The forest was thinning and the ground was leveling off and I pushed Wassily forward. Finally, the ground leveled out and I dragged the wounded Ranger up and over the crest of the first foothill.
Logically, I didn’t want to rest but, my body between the two stealthily trips up the mountain and the weight of the Ranger brought me to my knees. These was no reasoning when your legs folded up and you landed on your knees. I managed to lower Wassily to the ground. He moaned and passed out. At least one of us was relaxing.
I left him and crawled back to the top of the low hill. The mountain was bathed in light which only served to deepen the shadows between the trees. Somewhere up there, the Rebels were working their way down, and towards us. I inhaled deeply and stretched my shoulders. Time to get going.
We were three hills closer to the helicopter when the voices became recognizable. For a while, they’d just been murmurers, then they became a soft background rumble. But now, I could make out individual voices. I estimated the helicopter was a short way to our front but that was a problem all its own. If we made it to the bird, but the Rebels were close, we’d be shot up before we could lift off.
I was beginning to realize a gunfight was inevitable. It wouldn’t even be close as there must be at least ten of the Rebels and only one healthy guy on this side, me.
No matter, the Ranger and I staggered forward. The Rebels were converging. I guess the moon light was bright enough for them to pick up our foot prints. Now they were hunting, not searching. A small but significant difference.
I was pondering this eternal delta when Ashok reached out and took Wassily. The sudden loss of his weight caused me to stumble.
“J-Pop. are you alright?” Ashok asked.
“I’m fine, it’s Wassily and you and the Rebels hunting us that,” I stopped talking and looked hard at the Ranger, “What are you doing here?”
“Your Base said to hold tight and help will be here in an hour,” he said hopefully.
“Not helpful, by then the Rebels will be picking our pockets,” I stated, “Can you get Wassily to the helicopter?”
“Yes, we can make that,” Ashok said standing a little taller as did Wassily.
“Alright. When you get there find a seat and strap in,” I ordered while pulling the big pistol out of my pocket, “This may work and if it does, things will happen fast. Got it?”
“Strap in, got it,” the tough Park Ranger repeated.
I waited for them to disappear over the rise and then a few seconds more. Once I was sure they had a good start, I climbed to the top of the hill I’d just struggled over. There I laid down and unslung my rifle. I found a smooth rock and repositioned it as a base under my weapon.
The rifle was resting on the rock pointing at the hill on the other side of the wash. I rested my cheek on the butt stock and sighted down the barrel. In my other hand, I held the big pistol. I couldn’t remember any combat shooting exercise like this. It went totally against the rifleman’s creed. ‘It’s not the rounds I fire or the noise I make, it’s the hits that count’.
I waited and the voices grew louder. They
were rushing, following my foot prints and bunched together. Nice field craft, I thought with as much sarcasm as I could muster.
The heads of two men rose above the edge and I put a round between one’s eyes. The other simply stared at his downed comrade, so I obliged him and put one in his ear. Then I emptied my magazine on the crest and fired the pistol into the air. They must have thought they’d run into a squad of Marines.
I could hear them shouting and yelling as I pushed off the ridge and ran. Two hills later, I saw the helicopter. With renewed energy, I sprinted to the bird. At the entrance, I saw Ashok tending to the belted in Wassily.
“Hold on to something,” I yelled as I vaulted onto the deck.
I thumbed the start switch before I was completely in the cockpit. As the blades began to turn, I shot extra fuel into the turbo. That was a no, no, as it might damage the engine. Right now, I didn’t care if the mechanics or Senior Chief Dunya or the entire Council were upset, I needed as much power as I could get. The blades were screaming and I felt the copter lift, slightly. That was fine with me, I didn’t want height, what I wanted was movement.
The helicopter leaned forward and the front of the skids scraped for a few meters then I got air. I tilted further forward and managed to get enough speed that the clip on the crest of the next ridge was no more than a bump. Finally, we were skimming along with the low hills passing about a meter below us. I continued to apply power as the ground under me became a blur. Then from the rear, I heard a pop, pop.
You want to know what a bullet sounds like while going through the skin of a helicopter. Stretch a piece of paper between your hands and pull it tight. Now have someone else punch holes in the paper with a pen. Pop, pop, pop, and I was too busy keeping us off the deck to care.
Finally, I eased back and the racing bird arched into the sky. There were no more pop, pop, pop so I assumed we were out of range for small arms fire.
“J-Pop to Base,” I called.
“Go J-Pop,” Dunya sounded worried, “What is your status?”
“I have two badly wounded Park Rangers on board,” I explained, “Where is the nearest medical facility?”
Galactic Council Realm 1: On Station Page 29