“Your confidence is not exactly trust-inspiring.” Edwards spoke in a whisper.
“I’m not the trusting sort.”
“Really?” Edwards asked with a mock wide-eyed expression.
“And I thought you were a naive idealist who thought the best of everyone you meet.”
“Not likely.”
“Time to move to the next group?”
“Yes, we need to go northwest, take out that group, and then turn around and get the other trailing echelon to the south. We can leave the lead elements alone for now and take out the supporting cast and maybe go in for a day and resupply.”
“They are going to enter the city in a few days, so maybe we best stay out and stop them here.”
“That’s a good point,” Stryker allowed. “But, I don’t want to run us into the ground either. You good for another day?”
“Sure, this has been a turkey shoot so far. I think you are wildly overestimating these jokers.”
“I think you might be right. But, remember Mr. Murphy. It’s when you think everything is fine, that it turns to shit.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Stryker heard the slug impact Edward’s torso, and watched him spin the ground and clutch his chest.
“Shit,” he muttered, bringing his M-4 up and returning fire toward the ridge line above them. The sun was rising to the east, and they had finished off the second group and were heading back to the hide when Edwards went down.
Rounds whizzed by him, passing to his left side and he switched the selector to full auto and emptied a mag at the shooter, and then hurled a grenade at the top of the ridge and heard the explosion, and then a scream of pain.
He moved up the ridge at a dead run, reloading as he moved. He topped the hill and fired three rounds into terrorist and watched him die. Stryker looked around for other threats and saw no other movement. He ran back down the hill toward Edwards, who now sat with his back to a tree and the M-4 across his lap.”
“How bad?” Stryker asked as he halted and took a knee. After glancing around, he pulled his tactical pack off, and rummaged through it.
“Hurts like hell, but I think I’ll live.”
“Good to know,” Stryker replied, pulling two tampons from his pack and shoving one in Edward’s chest wound, and another at the exit point on his back. He then pulled duct tape from his pack, wrapped it tightly around his torso, and pulled him to his feet.
“Easy,” Edwards complained.
“Keep a watch while I call in a dust-off.
“Got it.” Edwards leaned against the tree for support and brought his carbine up and surveyed their surroundings.
“Sierra to base.” Stryker said after depressing his throat mic.
“Go.”
“I need an immediate dust off one click to the east of our present position. I need a Corpsman on the helo and the medical center ready to treat wounded.”
“Roger that. On its way.”
“One klick east. Acknowledge.
“Roger. The bird will airborne in a few.”
“I don’t have a few. Get it done now.”
Stryker felt the sat phone vibrate and plucked it from his vest.
“Go,” he said, supporting Edwards with one arm and heading east on the trail they had used on the way to their present site.
“You got two groups moving toward you now. One from the front echelon and the other to your southwest. They are moving fast and converging on you.” Erin spoke in a breathless tone, and then added, “Who is wounded?”
“Edwards.” Stryker held the phone in his left hand as he and Edwards moved up the trail.
“Bad?”
“He says he will live. I got to sign off now. I’ll see at the base.”
“Roger.”
“They continued up the trail, and Stryker noted that Edwards was bleeding through the duct tape. He stopped, put his carbine over his shoulder and picked him up in a fireman’s carry.
“What the hell?” Edwards complained.
“You’re bleeding. You need to keep your heart rate down.”
“This sucks.”
“I’m not crazy about it either, but we got to get to the exfil site right now.”
“Take it easy carrying me. I’m wounded.”
“Buck up. We got a shitload of bad guys after us and the dust-off might be hot so keep your shit in a pile and let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Where did the shooter come from?” Edwards wheezed. “We had no word of him being there at all.”
“Beats me. Not going to worry about it right now.” Stryker gasped. Edwards weight, plus his gear, was taking a toll. His back, injured in Iraq during the war, was on fire and sweat rolled off him a steady stream. The dead run uphill wasn’t helping matters and Stryker felt himself reaching the limits of his endurance after a few minutes.
He pushed the pain and exhaustion aside, and continued to struggle up the hill almost blind with agony but resolved to see it through to the end. His warrior’s creed echoed in his head and he played it over and over as his progress slowed and he fought for breath.
“It’s starting to hurt like hell,” Edwards said.
Stryker remained mute, still chugging up the hillside and trying to save his breath.
“You have two groups behind you, getting closer,” the female voice from the comms center announced.
“Helo?” Stryker replied.
“Inbound; two minutes.”
The sound of his boots impacting the concrete-like compacted earth echoed in his ears. Edwards was breathing hard and Stryker glanced over and saw he was unconscious and he was gasping for breath.
He again willed the hurt and fatigue away, and accelerated to a full run again. After stumbling twice, Stryker noted he was nearing the summit and felt a surge of energy course through him.
He reached a hilltop and saw a series of rolling hills filled with trees and shrubs and full of concealment options. He slowed down when he heard the helo approach, set Edwards on the ground, and waved with both hands above his head. He gasped in enormous amounts of oxygen and his tortured lungs burned from the run. His back was on fire and he felt as though he was close to death.
As the aircraft settled, two Corpsmen rushed toward Stryker and Edwards, and one knelt at the side of the wounded man. The other approached Stryker, who now faced west with his carbine tracking a group of terrorist that moved up the trail toward him.
“You wounded?” The man asked.
“No, it’s his blood.” Stryker nodded toward Edwards.
“How bad is he?” The Corpsman asked.
“He’s in pain and breathing hard,” Stryker replied, then loosed a volley at the men on the trail, watched them dive to the side of the pathway, and then turned to the man. “Get him loaded and stabilize on the bird. We’re out of time.”
“Roger that.” He moved back and assisted the second man with loading Edwards as Stryker fired another burst at the terrorists, and then followed them to the bird. Return fire kicked up dust around the helo as they lifted off and Stryker continued to fire at the group in an attempt to keep them from hitting the aircraft.
As they gained altitude they took two hits to the airframe as the Corpsmen worked on Edwards. Stryker changed mags, moved the selector to auto, and emptied a mag at the men below, apparently hitting two of them and sending the rest into the cover of bushes that surrounded the lift off site.
“How’s he doing?” Stryker asked as they flew away from the dust-off site.
“He’ll live,” the nearest Corpsman replied. “We gave him some morphine and Quik-Clotted the wound. He’ll need to rest and let the collapsed lung inflate again, but it should be fine after a few days.”
Stryker glanced down, saw Edwards was still unconscious and glanced back at the Corpsman. “You sure about that?”
“As sure as we can be.”
Stryker slumped back in his seat and closed his eyes. He could hear the thumping of the rotors as they chopped through
the air, and again opened his eyes. Edward’s was looking up at him from the stretcher that lay on the floor of the aircraft, again conscious.
“You’re going to be fine,” Stryker said. “They got you now.”
“Still hurts like hell,” he replied. “Thanks for getting me out of there.”
“You would have done the same.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“I always did.”
“Shit,” Edwards sighed. “Years in the sandbox, God knows how many missions, and not wounded once. Now, this shit happens in my own country.”
“The bullet that will take your life is already in the air. Same is true for all of us. We both know there’s no reason to it. When it’s time, it’s time. It’s not time for you yet.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“How the hell did that guy get behind us?” Edwards asked as he sipped on a water glass, and then winced when he set it on the nightstand. His bare torso was covered in bandages and gauze. He was clearly in pain.
The doctor had left after patching him up, and the nurse had just gone to bed. Stryker said he would stay with Edwards and get them up if anything happened. It was three in the morning and Stryker stood next to the bed. The ship was eerily silent and soft light from the nightstand was enough to make Edwards visible, but little more than that.
“He was there all the time. My guess is they left him behind after the first ambush. They may have left more men on other trails as well. The last number we got on them seemed a little light.”
“Why didn’t the drones find him?”
“He was wearing a thermal evasion suit.”
“What the hell is that?” Edwards asked.
“It is radiant barrier on one side to mask the heat coming from a body at night, and on the other side it standard camouflage, so that you can use it during the day as well. I’ve heard of the things, but the only one I ever saw was lying next to the man who shot you. So, I can only guess that he was there the whole time.”
“I’d like to see what that looks like. It sounds like it could be pretty damn useful.”
“Well, I didn’t have time to pack it at the time, and I’m not going back to find it for you, so I guess you can live without getting to try it on.” Stryker arched an eyebrow as he said it.
“And we had the good luck to run into him in the middle of nowhere.” Edwards sighed heavily.
“Yep. The odds are one hundred to one that we would happen to be on the path that he chose to watch, but there you are – Mr. Murphy at work, just like I said.”
“So when did Elle leave?” Edwards asked.
“A few hours ago. The doc gave her a sedative and she just conked out. Erin and I took her back to the room and she’s sleeping now. We waited until you were sleeping before we took her back.”
“She was really pissed off at me.”
“No doubt about that. She was pretty unhappy with both of us, but she was really angry with me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her totally lose control and sort of go nuts.” Stryker looked away as he felt a pang of regret pass through him. He had again convinced someone to do something they would rather not do, and they had paid for his foolishness.
Both men fell silent as Stryker reviewed the previous day in his head.
They landed on the carrier, and Edwards was taken to the clinic on a stretcher, apparently barely breathing. A doctor examined him briefly and then assured Stryker he would make it before nudging him out of the E.R. A male nurse named Baron sat with him outside as the doctor and a surgical assistant worked on Edwards.
Elle and Erin rushed into the room and stopped in front of Stryker, who stood and embraced Elle as she sobbed piteously.
“He’s going to be fine,” Stryker whispered. “The doctor says it’s not serious, but he’s unconscious from the pain killers they gave him when we evacuated the A.O.”
“Are you sure,” she asked between sobs.”
“Positive.”
“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”
“You know I wouldn’t do that. He turned to Baron and asked, “How long before we can see him?”
“Probably awhile. Let me go check on him now and I’ll be right back.”
“Thanks.”
Stryker turned back to Elle in time to meet her open palm as it lashed across his face. He stepped back, blinking and shocked to his core.
“Why do you have to be the damn hero all the time?” Elle spat the words as though she was getting a bad taste out of her mouth. She was breathing heavily and clearly senseless with worry.
“I,” Stryker started and then realized there was no excuse or argument to be made.
“You’ve almost gotten yourself killed a dozen times, and now you lead Blaine into a trap and almost get him killed as well.” She struggled to get herself under control before adding, “When is it going to be enough for you? Do you have to get us all killed before you’re happy and let go of this damn superman complex of yours?” She sputtered to a halt and then whispered, “Get out of my sight.”
Baron appeared and looked confused at the scene before him, and then said, “You can see him now. He’s coming out of the anesthesia. I never saw anyone recover as fast as he did.”
Elle followed Baron as they left the room.
Stryker looked at Erin, who jerked her head toward the door.
“Wait outside,” she said. “I’ll come get you when the time is right. For now, just do what she.” Erin’s expression was one of disappointment and resignation. She turned and followed Elle out of the room.
Stryker left the room without uttering a word and took a seat in the hallway. A few minutes later the doctor appeared and sat next to him.
“How is he?” Stryker asked.
“He’ll be fine,” the doctor replied. “My name is Ron, or Doctor Roberts, whatever you prefer.
“Mine’s Stryker.”
“Is that a first or last name?” he asked.
“It’s the only one.”
Roberts looked away for a moment, apparently baffled, and then turned to face Stryker. His face was thin and long, his smock was covered in blood, and he was prematurely balding. “How about you,” he asked, “Are you okay?”
“Never better,” Stryker replied with a grim expression.
“Did you put those tampons in the wounds?”
“Yes.”
“Where did you learn that?”
“Iraq. I carried them all the time. A Corpsman told me to use them for large wounds.”
“You managed to close a sucking chest wound with them and kept him breathing until we could patch him up.” He paused for a moment, and then added, “I don’t know what’s bothering you, and something clearly is, but you probably saved his life with that trick. I wouldn’t feel bad about it.”
“I don’t feel bad about it; Or at least not as bad as I should.” Stryker whispered.
Robert just shrugged and stood up. “Suit yourself,” and made his way down the hallway.
Stryker was sleeping when Erin came to get him, and she gazed down at him with a look of concern. She had only seen him look as bad as he did now once before, and that experience had cost him dearly for some time.
He blinked his eyes and started awake. “Any change?” he mumbled, rubbing bloodshot eyes with the back of his hands. A sharp pain ran down one side of his spine as he shifted position on the chair and he winced as he moved.
“The doctor said he was stable and you probably saved his life,” Erin said. After pausing, she added, “You look terrible and I’m guessing your back is bothering you, you haven’t had much sleep, and you’re exhausted from the run up that hill.”
“Edwards told you?”
“Yes. Look, your hair is greasy, your uniform is covered in blood and dirt, and you look like you’re about to pass out. Go to the room, shower, get some clean clothes and get a nap. I’ll stay with Blaine until you get back.”
“Elle?”
“Still pissed but ge
tting over it. Get a few hours rest and come back when you feel better.”
Stryker stood, swaying in front of her, until she grabbed his arm and led him to their stateroom. He fell on the bed and was immediately asleep.
Later he got up, showered, dressed, and limped back to the clinic where Edwards lay sleeping. Erin had already left, and Stryker concluded she was with Elle.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Don’t have a clue,” Stryker replied when Thomas asked him what their next move would be.
Both men sat in the conference room with coffee in front of them and stared at each other.
“There must be something we can do?” He replied.
“Not that I can think of. We now know they have men to their rear on the trails and I can’t fight an enemy ahead of me when I have to watch my six at the same time.” Stryker paused, and then added, “We know our infra-red may not work against the guys they leave behind, and so there is no way to do that again without more risk than is acceptable. I am not willing to even try that unless we can find a way to make sure our rear is safe. It’s suicide.”
“What about taking them from the front?” Thomas asked, clearly frustrated with Stryker’s answers.
“That’s what they want. They are in that formation to make us take on the lead element so the trailers can flank us and take us out. That’s not going to work either. That’s why we chose to attack from the rear.”
“So we do nothing?”
“I didn’t say that. I said I don’t know what to do next.” Stryker paused, and then added, “We now know these guys are pretty damn good. They must have started leaving their people on the trails after the first ambush, which means they knew where we coming from and where we would go to our hide during the day.”
“Well, you and Edwards are the only ground forces that we have. If you guys can’t figure something out, we sure as hell can’t.”
“Well, we can’t either.”
“So we just sit here and wait for them to attack?” Thomas’ voice was growing shrill.
“We may have to. If we can’t get them to mass, we can’t use air power, and without that, we end up in a long and drawn out conflict that will take forever to end and cost a lot of lives. And, by the way, panic is not a plan so calm down and put on your big boy hat. We need solutions here.”
STRYKER - OMNIBUS: BOOKS 3-5: A Post Apocalyptic Tale Page 26