by Joe Weber
Lex looked and spotted the twisted bodies of Hank Murray and one of his technicians. They had been blown outside the hangar and were lying next to the fuel dump.
Palmer absently handed the rifle back to Blackwell while they watched the approaching helicopter. Under the circumstances, there would be no way to retrieve all the bodies.
With infinite patience, Jimenez skillfully guided the powerless helicopter straight at the cargo plane. He caught a glimpse of billowing white smoke as the pilot cranked the second engine. Relief swept over him when he saw the propellers settle into a steady idle.
"Brace yourselves!" Rudy cautioned over the intercom while he pulled pitch to slow their descent. He could hear Crowder's M-60 spewing a steady stream of fire.
Without warning, a continuous burst of tracers slammed into the stricken helo. Jimenez swore and stomped on the tail-rotor control pedals when the helicopter started to swivel. I'm going to have to dump it!
Palmer grimaced when he saw the UH-34's tail rotor blades chewed off by the intense machine-gun fire. Without directional control, the fuselage was beginning to rotate around the axis of the main rotor blades. Nick and Lex watched in horror as Jimenez tried to salvage the landing.
Blackwell sucked in his breath. "I hope they make it."
"He's too fast," Nick declared, using body English to align the fuselage with the direction of flight.
The helicopter slammed into the ground near the cargo plane and bounced across the taxiway. The struts and wheels flew in different directions as the helo slid to a halt with a wrenching tear of metal. The jarring impact had collapsed the main rotor blades and severed the tail-rotor pylon.
With sheer determination, Brad crawled from the crumpled wreckage and reached back to help Crowder through the crushed entrance.
"I'm okay," the crew chief grunted as he struggled free. "Let's get Rudy and Chase!"
Austin rose and went to the sliding window at the side of the cockpit. He and Crowder lowered Chase Mitchell to the ground while Jimenez leaped out the other side entrance.
"They're out," Palmer yelled to Spencer when he saw the four men were clear of the demolished helicopter. "Cap, you and Allison take off!"
"We're going!" Spencer replied as he and Allison crawled out of their refuge. They sprinted toward the transport while Blackwell fired the last rounds in his rifle.
"Let's go," Lex said when the M-16 stopped firing.
Palmer jumped up and over the embankment, then dashed after Blackwell as rounds kicked dirt up a yard in front of him. Nick could see that the cargo plane was being riddled by small-arms fire. The CIA men were holding their own, but if the Pathet Lao regrouped and charged, they would overwhelm the outnumbered Americans.
Brad hobbled behind Jimenez and Crowder while the two of them carried Mitchell's inert body toward the idling C-123. He saw Allison and Spencer racing for the airplane, followed by Nick and Lex.
Then it happened. A hail of gunfire cut Allison's legs out from under her and she awkwardly tumbled to the ground.
Time and space seemed to slow as Brad ran toward her, limping as fast as he could. Spencer turned back and Brad waved him toward the cargo plane, then dropped next to Allison. She was moaning softly and trying to shove herself to her feet.
"Allison," Brad's voice cracked, "don't try to move!"
"Brad," she coughed, "I can't get--"
Ignoring the heavy gunfire, he scooped her up and felt the blood run down his arm. "Hold on to my neck."
She raised one arm and clasped his neck. "Brad . . ."
"Just a few more yards," he gasped while he limped toward the C-123. He saw Spencer turn and run toward him.
A staggering blow knocked Brad off balance, and his wounded leg buckled under him. He stumbled twice before they collapsed in a heap.
Brad pushed himself to his hands and knees, then stared in shock and disbelief at Allison. She had taken the brunt of the rounds that had ripped into the two of them. "Allison . . . oh, God, Allison."
He tried to lift her, but fell back when his limbs failed to respond to the sensory inputs. Brad saw a blurred image of Nick and Lex, then the dark settled over him.
Palmer and Blackwell, with assistance from Spencer, carried Allison and Brad into the airplane. They heard the distinct sound of bullets impacting both sides of the fuselage.
"Easy," Nick said as the three men, with the help of Crowder and Jimenez, gently placed Brad and Allison on the flight deck next to Chase Mitchell.
When the last soldier leaped through the door, the cargo pilots fire-walled the big radial engines and released the brakes. The airplane leaped forward and slowly gathered speed in a hail of gunfire.
Three-quarters of the way down the runway, the Provider shuddered from the concussion of a mortar shell that exploded near the right wing.
Just as the aircraft rotated, a small-arms round penetrated the fuselage and struck a soldier next to Blackwell.
The pilots kept the plane low, accelerating as they raised the landing gear and flaps. With a sudden lurch, the C-123 pitched up in a steep, climbing turn to clear the rising hills.
After five minutes, the pilots leveled the battered airplane and reduced power. The right engine was smoking and running rough, but they kept it going in order to expedite getting the wounded to Vientiane.
Gunny Rodriguez lay mortally wounded near the rear entrance to the cargo bay. He had been the last person to board the battle-damaged airplane.
Brad opened his eyes when Lex and Nick moved him to a long bench seat. Vaguely he became aware of where he was when he heard Palmer speak to Blackwell. He also heard the cries and groans from the severely wounded soldiers.
"Brad." Nick leaned closer and carefully examined his friend's eyes. "How are you feeling? Do you want something for the pain?"
Austin had never seen Nick Palmer's face look so pale and full of sorrow.
"Is Allison okay?" Brad asked in a flat, guttural voice.
Nick gave her a furtive glance. Cap Spencer had cupped Allison's small hand between his while Rudy Jimenez tearfully covered her face with a utility jacket. She hadn't made it. Operation Achilles was over, and Hollis Spencer would carry the guilt with him for the rest of his life Palmer hesitated and glanced at Blackwell, then snapped out of the paralysis of anguish. "She's in good hands, Brad. Try to relax."
Brad noticed the pained expression in Nick's eyes. He choked and struggled to speak. "Please tell Leigh Ann . . ." he swallowed twice and coughed, "where they are taking me . . . which hospital."
"I will." Palmer strained to keep his composure as Lex gloomily shook his head. "You rest . . . and save your strength. We'll be on the ground soon. "
Brad nodded weakly and closed his eyes. "Thanks."
Chapter FORTY-FOUR
VIENTIANE
The lights of the city were beginning to twinkle brightly as the sunlight dissipated over the Menam Khong River. The narrow streets were becoming clogged from the early-evening hustle and bustle in the open-air markets. The lewd jokes and loud noises from the partying crowd drifted from the raunchy bars and settled over the river traffic.
Nick Palmer paid the taxi driver, then hefted his bag of new toiletries and clothes and entered the Constellation Hotel. He walked straight to the front desk and set his belongings on the floor.
"Is Miss Leigh Ann Ladasau registered?" he asked when Lo Van Phuong turned and gave him a toothy smile.
"Mister Palmer, good to see you again." The general manager concealed his astonishment at seeing Nick dressed in a ripped and soiled flight suit. He glanced at the pilot's bandaged hand, pretending not to notice it.
Nick acknowledged the pleasantry and gazed toward the commotion coming from the crowded, smoke-filled barroom. He was not in the mood for small talk.
Sensing Palmer's restraint, the amiable man erased the smile from his face. "Yes, Miss Ladasau staying with us. She check in today." He glanced at his wristwatch. "She go to dinner maybe ten, fifteen minute ago. She say she
be back soon."
"Thanks," Palmer said while he reached for his wallet. "Do you have any rooms available?"
-Yes." He smiled and reached for a key.
"When she returns," Palmer said wearily, "please don't mention that I inquired about her."
Lo Van Phuong smiled innocently. "As you wish."
After Nick had signed the guest register, he went to his room for a quick shower and a fresh change of clothes. He would wait to talk to Leigh Ann until she had finished her dinner and returned to the hotel.
Donning a clean shirt and khaki slacks, Palmer went to the front desk. Leigh Ann had not returned from dinner.
Deciding to go into the bar, Nick ordered a double scotch on the rocks and took a seat where he could observe the entrance to the lobby.
He thought about Brad Austin and all the experiences they had shared since they had first met on board the aircraft carrier. The memories cascaded through his mind, and he took another sip of his drink.
Still reliving their close calls in the air and their humorous times on liberty, Nick suddenly became aware of someone entering the lobby. He looked up to see Leigh Ann walk to the front desk.
Forgetting his drink, Palmer rose from his chair and quietly left the bar.
Leigh Ann stopped in midsentence and turned to see who was approaching her.
"Nick," she exclaimed excitedly while reaching out to hug him. "What a pleasant surprise!"
Palmer awkwardly embraced her and stepped back with a trace of a smile on his face. "You're as beautiful as ever."
"Thank you, Nick." She laughed, then added, "Always the gentleman." She noticed his bandaged hand. "You look great, too, but what happened to your hand?"
"Just some minor damage," Nick answered uncomfortably, then fell silent.
"Is Brad with you?" she beamed before noticing the pained expression on his face. "Nick, what's wrong? Has something happened to Brad?"
Hesitantly, he took her by the arm. "Leigh Ann, let's go to your room . . . if you don't mind."
"Nick," she said somberly as they walked down the hallway, "has there been an accident?"
"Yes."
The color drained from Leigh Ann's face as she shakily placed her key in the lock and opened the door.
"Tell me the truth, Nick," she said with a strained intensity.
He absently closed the door and gently took her by the shoulders. "Leigh Ann, Brad just came out of surgery . . . and he's in serious condition."
She stared at Nick with a mixture of confusion and disbelief written on her taut face. "Is he going to be okay . . . ? What happened?"
He paused while he framed an answer. The doctors had been cautiously optimistic about Brad's chances when he was taken to the recovery room. "It's a long story, Leigh Ann. " Nick thought about the events of the last few hours and shook his head. "We're not going to know much until tomorrow, but the initial report sounded good."
Relieved that Brad was alive, Leigh Ann inhaled deeply. The room seemed to be spinning as Nick reached to steady her. When he took her in his arms, she buried her face against his chest and sobbed. He held her tightly and felt the shudders that tortured her body.
Nick could hear the faint sounds from the bar as the dull noise mixed with the street traffic. He shared her concern and silently prayed that his friend would be okay.
"Go ahead, let it out." He pressed her head into the hollow of his shoulder and gently stroked her hair.
Glancing at the IV bottle hanging next to his bed, Brad Austin focused his eyes and took inventory. He had both feet and both hands, so he obviously had his arms and legs. His bruised stomach hurt, and his chest felt as if someone had dropped an anvil on it.
He slowly raised his head off the damp pillow and surveyed the spotless room. A sudden chill ran through him as he remembered seeing Allison fall to the ground and struggle to get to her feet. His head plopped back on the pillow, and he heard a distinct voice.
"Captain Austin," the unsmiling nurse said while she checked his dressings and the IV, "you have visitors, if you feel up to having company."
His first attempt at talking came out as a croak. He tried a second time. "Sure."
The terse woman walked out, and a moment later Leigh Ann appeared in the doorway, followed by Nick Palmer.
Brad's eyes reflected his happiness. "Leigh Ann . . . Nick." He lifted his hand a few inches above the bed.
As shocked as she was to see Brad in his condition, Leigh Ann maintained her poise while she walked to the bed and clasped his outstretched hand. "You had us worried."
Nick remained by the door. "The drill sergeant . . ." He coughed and cleared his throat. "The nurse gave us five minutes, so I'm going to step outside. I'll see you later."
Austin turned his head to look at Palmer. "How is Allison?" He felt Leigh Ann squeeze his hand at the same instant Nick lowered his head and quietly replied.
"Brad, Allison didn't make it."
Brad stared blankly at the ceiling, then glanced at Leigh Ann while Nick stepped from the room.
She fought the tears that suddenly filled her eyes. "Brad," Leigh Ann patted his hand, "Nick told me you did everything you could for Allison."
He forced the pain and anguish deep inside him and kept his thoughts to himself. No one could know the guilt he felt about Allison.
Leigh Ann leaned over and gently kissed Brad on the forehead. "The doctors told us that you're going to be fine . . . and I'm going to take you home as soon as you're able to travel."
Brad smiled, and his eyes glistened. "I'm ready now, if you can smuggle me out of here."
Leigh Ann laughed softly and wiped a tear from her cheek.
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