by Mel Odom
A few minutes later, after he’d made sure he was intact and nothing was ruptured so that nothing that belonged inside his body was suddenly going to be outside, he forced himself to his feet. His M-4A1 lay nearby. He picked it up.
He spent a few minutes trying to connect with the Ranger communications but wasn’t successful. Either he was in a black hole for the signal or the Syrians were jamming the frequencies.
Remembering that Miller and Icarus had fallen with him, he went in search of the other two men. The throbbing in his knee hurt terribly, and he had difficulty walking. He tracked the others through the broken branches that blazed a trail through the canopy. Thankfully none of them had been impaled on the way down.
Miller lay twenty yards away, behind a large boulder he’d missed by less than a foot. The man was out cold, and at first Goose feared that he was dead. Miller’s chest rose and fell slowly, though. Relieved, Goose went over to the chaplain and did a visual inspection for injuries without moving him. There was no blood around Miller, so Goose took that as a positive. Gently Goose touched the man’s shoulder.
“Captain Miller,” Goose said.
Miller didn’t move.
Goose shook the man a little harder. “Captain Miller, you got to get up. The Syrians are coming.”
Footsteps sounded behind Goose. He spun and brought the M-4A1 up in one hand.
Icarus stepped out through the trees. He tucked his right arm behind his Kevlar vest. His features looked pale. “We’ve got trouble,” he said.
Local Time 0829 Hours
Allen found Owens’s vehicle jammed between trees and brush. A broken tree limb protruded from the driver’s chest. The jagged shard had pierced his heart and stopped it so suddenly that there was little blood.
Manfred Owens, a native Bostonian with a short-cropped beard and long hair, fumbled in an effort to free himself from the passenger seat. He was a broad bulldog of a man with burn scarring on the left side of his face and neck.
“Cody’s target I’m going to assassinate for the fee,” Owens declared as he pushed himself out and up. “I get the chance, though, I’m going to throw some of those Syrians in for free. What was that? A dud?”
“If it had been a dud, it wouldn’t have blown up,” Weaver said. “Must have had a fuel problem. Something. Fell way short of the target.”
“No joke,” Owens growled.
“Heinrich, Weaver, Kosheib,” Allen said. “Set up a loose perimeter. Could be the Syrians saw us and may have someone along soon.”
“Roger that.” Heinrich swept the hair from his eyes and set off at once. The other two joined him in setting up a three-post guard, fanning out from the wreck site fifty yards away.
When he checked the rear of the Land Rover, Allen found Purvis disoriented and McElroy just regaining consciousness. With Owens’s help, he helped both of them from the wreck. Newton was a different story. He was semiconscious and in pain. But his right leg was broken in three places.
“Can you walk?” Allen asked.
Fear tightened Newton’s eyes. He was young and desperate. The United States had a murder charge waiting on him if he returned there.
“Sure,” Newton answered. “I can walk.”
Without a word, Allen stood by and waited.
Newton forced his way out of the Land Rover and stood on his good leg. Allen shoved a hand into the man’s chest, catching him off guard. Newton tried to remain standing, but his broken leg buckled and he went down with a scream of pain. He pulled himself back up, clawing at the Land Rover like an animal.
“No! Allen, please don’t!”
Allen already had his pistol in his fist. He held it only a few inches from Newton’s face and pulled the trigger three times. The dead man’s blood spattered Allen’s fist. He wiped his weapon clean on Newton’s shirt.
Allen’s sat-phone rang. Only three people had the number. He answered.
“You missed your target,” Alexander Cody said.
“Do you know that for a fact?”
“I’m looking at video footage of Icarus and two other men falling from the helicopter at the same time the SCUD landed near you.”
Allen turned and looked north. The woods were thick and filled with brush. He suspected there was an underground spring or watershed concealed somewhere within the forest.
“Your fee isn’t going to be paid until you can guarantee the kill,” Cody said.
“Understood,” Allen said. “Are you sure the target is alive?”
“I’m sure I don’t know that he’s dead. It’s your job to get me proof.”
“I will.” Allen closed the phone, looked at his men, and explained the situation.
“More than likely,” Owens said, “all we have to do is find their bodies.”
“Then that’s what we’re going to do.”
Owens glanced back to the south. The loud noise of the Syrian advancement filled the forest around them. “This is gonna be a bad place to get caught by those Syrian soldiers.”
“Let’s plan on not getting caught,” Allen suggested.
Owens still didn’t look happy.
“If you want to hump out on your own,” Allen said, “I’ll understand. I don’t mind finding a dead guy and splitting the bounty six ways.”
Owens cursed. “I’m in.”
Allen called the others in, then explained the situation to Weaver, Kosheib, and Heinrich. They didn’t look happy either.
“I do not like this,” Kosheib said.
“Neither do I,” Allen admitted. “But that missile didn’t take us off the board-”
“Not all of us,” Heinrich said, looking down at Newton.
“-so I figure we’ve got enough luck to get paid for this.” Allen paused. “And no matter how you look at it, we’re going to have to go north in order to keep from encountering the Syrians.”
“The target may still be alive,” Heinrich pointed out.
“Then he’s not going to be that way for long.” Allen slung his rifle over his shoulder, grabbed extra canteens from the Land Rover, and set off into the brush.
Grumbling and cursing, his pack of wolves trailed at his heels.
31
Outside Harran
Sanliurfa Province, Turkey
Local Time 0829 Hours
Goose lowered his weapon but didn’t put it away. “What kind of trouble?”
“The guys who shot us down are going to come looking for us,” Icarus said. “I know some of them. Their leader, for one. His name is Marcus Allen. They’re all stone killers.”
Reflecting on the explosion outside the helicopter, Goose knew the attack had come from the ground. There’d been no Syrian aircraft around, and they’d been far enough ahead of the enemy ground troops that he hadn’t believed they’d accounted for the attack.
“How far back are they?” Goose asked.
“Six, seven hundred yards.”
“You saw them?”
“Yes.”
“And they’re hunting us?”
“If they aren’t yet, they will be soon.”
“What kind of vehicles do they have?”
“Both their vehicles are disabled. They’re on foot.”
Goose nodded. “Gives us a chance. How do you know them?”
“They work for Alexander Cody. And for Nicolae Carpathia.”
“Where did you get that information?” Goose wasn’t happy with how little he knew about the situation they were all in.
Icarus shook his head. “We don’t have time for a question and answer session. If they catch us, we’re dead.”
“If the Syrian army catches us, we’re dead.” Goose gazed back to the south. “We don’t have anything but trouble all the way around us.”
Icarus glanced at Miller. “How’s he?”
“Just knocked out. I was about to wake him when you came up on me.”
“We need to get him up and moving.” Icarus shifted his arm and grimaced.
“How’s the wing?�
�� Goose asked.
“Broken elbow.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. I’ve had a broken elbow before.”
“We’re all lucky we didn’t get real busted up coming down through those trees.”
Icarus grimaced. “Not lucky enough.”
“How many men back there?”
“Seven.”
“They’re all the same as this Allen you mentioned?”
Icarus nodded.
“What kind of training have they had?”
“Allen and some of the others were in military and spy organizations.”
Tension washed over Goose. It was a long way to Sanliurfa. “You got anything for pain?”
Icarus shook his head.
Goose rummaged in his medical pack. “I got some stuff in here that should dull it.” He took pain pills from the kit and passed them to Icarus. Goose took a couple himself to ease the throbbing in his knee. He also followed up with some anti-inflammatories to help with the swelling. His knee already felt incredibly tight.
He broke an ammonia capsule beneath Miller’s nose and got him up.
Local Time 0839 Hours
Goose chose a course that would keep them within the trees. To the right, out in the massive open area, the Syrian armor rumbled past. As he limped through the trees, Goose watched the tanks, APCs, and field artillery roll along amid dust clouds. He felt guilty that he wasn’t going to be at Sanliurfa when the Rangers there needed him most.
“Goose,” Miller said, looking anguished, “it’s my fault we’re down here. I should have been holding on better. If I had been, maybe I wouldn’t have knocked us all off the helicopter.”
“If the guy who fired the rocket launcher at us had shot a little straighter,” Goose said, “none of us would be here right now. You can’t fault yourself, sir. This thing-it just turned out the way it did. Can’t go back and change it now. Our job at this point is to get back to our unit as soon as we can and hope they’re still holding their own.”
Miller nodded and kept trudging along.
None of them could forget the men who combed the forest behind them.
Local Time 1017 Hours
Goose called for a breather while they were on the side of a hill. They took cover between rocks and a copse of trees. Overhead, the sky had turned dark with the threat of a sudden storm. The wind had picked up, and the air had cooled slightly. Goose hoped the rain came soon and that it wasn’t just a false promise as it sometimes was in Turkey. If it rained, it might slow the Syrian assault on Sanliurfa.
“Hydrate or die,” Goose said and drank from the tube to his LCE. “Don’t try to conserve water. Drink your fill. As hard as we’re pushing ourselves, we’ve got to keep fluid in our systems. Isn’t going to do anyone any good to drop halfway there while holding on to a full canteen.”
Miller sat wearily on a rock, breathing hard. Even the constant physical conditioning the army required clearly hadn’t prepared him for the long march through rough country. He made himself drink.
“The chaplain is struggling to keep up,” Icarus said softly.
“I know that,” Goose said.
“Allen and his men are gaining on us.”
“I know that, too.”
“Given our present rate of travel, they’ll catch us within the next hour.”
Goose nodded. “I’m going to have to do something about that.”
“What?”
“I’m going to whittle the odds down a little.” Goose stared through the binoculars he carried. The forest was thick, but every now and again he caught a glimpse of one of the men who pursued them so relentlessly. “How are you holding up?”
“I can make the walk,” Icarus said. “I’ve had to do worse things.”
“Then why don’t you take the chaplain further on.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Stay a little while. Set up a few surprises for those killers.”
Icarus was silent a moment. “Don’t underestimate those men, Goose. They’re very dangerous, and they won’t hesitate a moment to kill you.”
“Then neither will I,” Goose replied. “You two best get started. I’ll catch up to you when I can.”
“Even with that bad knee?”
Goose grinned with false confidence. “I don’t know what you’re seeing, buddy, but I’m genuine GI. A hard road just separates the men from the boys. I’ll be with you soon enough.”
Icarus offered his good hand. “I hope so, Sergeant. Truly I do. Your men need you. Otherwise, they’ll be lost.”
Goose wanted to ask about that cryptic statement, but he didn’t. There wasn’t time. And he couldn’t allow any other thoughts inside his mind other than how he was going to deal with their pursuers.
As he watched Miller and Icarus get underway again, Goose divested himself of insecurities and pain. He donned the mental armor of the hunter. At this point, there could be no mercy.
Local Time 1023 Hours
“I’m getting tired of all these trees and brush,” Heinrich complained. He pushed and shoved his way through the dense foliage.
“That is because you are out of shape,” Kosheib said. “You have become lazy from all the easy work you have been getting lately. Killing someone in their bed or out in front of a restaurant is not the same as stalking them through the bush.” The Sudanese strode through the forest like a big cat.
“Yeah, well I for one am glad to work in the civilized world. It’s easier to pop someone who’s following a routine in the city than to try to flush them out of the brush.”
Allen ignored the men’s banter. Kosheib and Heinrich usually griped to and about each other. Trying to get them to stop only exacerbated the problem. Allen stayed locked on Weaver, who was walking point at the moment.
The sat-phone vibrated in Allen’s pocket. He didn’t look at caller ID to see who it was. He already knew. Alexander Cody had called twice so far to find out if they’d caught up with Icarus.
Allen was actually impressed the three men they pursued had covered as much ground as they had. Their prey had tried to be coy about their flight on a few occasions, changing directions and trying to conceal their trail. In the end, all they’d done was lose time. Allen, Owens, Weaver, and Kosheib were all trained trackers.
A few minutes later, Weaver signaled a stop, then waved Allen forward.
“What do you think he’s found?” Owens asked.
Allen didn’t look at Owens but kept his eyes constantly moving, glancing around using the periphery of his vision to track movement. “Only one way to find out. Kosheib, you’re with me.”
The big man stepped up beside Allen and moved soundlessly through the brush.
“They’ve split up.” Weaver pointed at the footprints that showed on the ground.
Allen knelt and studied the tracks. Two sets of prints showed in the soft earth. He looked back the way they’d come and spotted the ridge of stone showing above the earth.
“They hid their footprints for as long as they could,” Kosheib said.
“You think they had a falling-out?” Weaver asked.
“No.” Allen glared along the stone ridge. “They knew we were following them.”
“They could have split up to take their chances.”
Allen shook his head. He stayed low and surveyed the surrounding terrain.
Kosheib hunkered down beside him. “I am thinking this could be good spot for ambush.”
“Me too.” Allen placed his assault rifle across his knees and tried to tell himself he wasn’t vulnerable.
A flicker of movement disrupted the trees over the heads of Owens, Purvis, and McElroy as they stood and talked. Allen recognized the spherical shape immediately, but he still had to try to warn his men.
“Grenade!”
Owens ran and threw himself to one side without a wasted second. Purvis and McElroy looked at Allen, awaiting further orders. There wasn’t time for any more.
The antipersonnel g
renade blew up and slung their bodies backward. Allen had no illusions about either man still being among the living.
The split had just dropped to five.
Quietly Allen waved Kosheib to the other side of the stone ridge. The mercenary leader took his weapon and duckwalked through the brush, circling around to where he thought the grenade had come from. Whoever had stayed back was about to regret being born.
That would be only for a short while, though. Allen intended to put the man out of his misery quickly. He only hoped it was their prey.
32
Downtown Sanliurfa
Sanliurfa Province, Turkey
Local Time 1036 Hours
“Staring at the screen isn’t going to make that program go any faster.”
Danielle glanced at Pete Farrier, the audio-visual tech assigned to the OneWorld NewsNet team. He was gangly and looked young despite being in his early thirties. His dark hair was cut short enough to let him pass as one of the soldiers in the Ranger unit. He wore khaki shorts and a T-shirt advertising a video game popular five years earlier.
“I know,” Danielle admitted.
They sat at a table in the foyer of a small hotel. The old building had weathered the test of time and had survived the Syrian assaults over the last few weeks. The decor was Old World with Moorish influence in high arches over the doorways. The electrical lighting barely held its own against the darkness lurking by the covered windows. Original paintings adorned the walls.
A dozen men and women sat around the tables. Small children, sharing the tension felt by their parents, hunkered under the tables. None of them looked confident to be there.
No, Danielle silently amended, none of them look safe. They all looked pensive and ill at ease. Every time an explosion or a long string of gunfire sounded, they flinched.
On the notebook computer screen in front of Danielle, an image constantly pixilated. She’d taken a still from the video her cameraman had shot aboard the helicopter before Goose and two others had plunged from the cargo door. Danielle had recognized one of those other men as Icarus, the mysterious rogue agent CIA Section Chief Cody was hunting. There was no way that Icarus being on board the helicopter that had been shot at could be coincidence.