Bloodstorm sts-13

by Keith Douglass

  “Everyone from Bravo Squad here?” Senior Chief Dobler asked. DeWitt looked around.

  “I need two. Jefferson, flush them out wherever they are. Their bunks, or the PX. Move.”

  “Sounds like we better stick to regular ammo, so we don’t bog down somewhere,” DeWitt said. “Ostercamp, get your SATCOM and check it out. Just a quick run-through. Let’s get our gear squared away, Bravo. I want you all ready to jump in an hour.”

  Murdock’s watch read 0840. It would be a night jump, but he wasn’t sure when the plane would be on hand or how long the flight would take to Damascus. They would be ready. He spent the next half hour working on his gear, getting everything set and putting a new edge on his fighting knife with a stone.

  Kat came in with her brown eyes blazing.

  “What do you mean I’m not going along. Do you see me limping? Can I hold my arms over my head? Why the hell are you grounding me because of a little scratch?”

  Murdock laughed. He couldn’t help it. She stood there with her fists set on her slender hips, and that stretched her khaki shirt tight across her breasts. Her face was flushed and wreathed in a tight little frown.

  “Don’t laugh at me, Murdock. It makes me all the madder.”

  He recovered enough to get his voice working. “Hey, Kat, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just that is exactly the same thing I’ve had a dozen SEALs say to me over the years. Which makes you a SEAL more than you know. You’re thinking SEAL now, even with a shot-up leg and a shoulder wound that’s going to leave a scar. Now, SEAL, drop and give me fifty push-ups.”

  Kat gave a long sigh. “Murdock, you know I can’t do that with this fucking shoulder. But that doesn’t mean I can’t jump in with you to Damascus and spike that warhead just the way we did before.”

  “We are jumping, SEAL. It will be a HALO operation. That’s a thirty-one-thousand-foot free fall, and it’s going to be cold enough to freeze your nipples off. Why in hell would you want to go?”

  “Sir, it’s my job, sir.” She shouted the words, and it made half the platoon turn and look at her. A cheer started halfway down the room, and then exploded all over the place.

  “Come on, Cap, let the SEAL go and jump,” somebody called.

  “Yeah, besides, I don’t want to be anywhere in Syria if you’re gonna play with that nuke warhead,” Canzoneri yelled.

  Kat’s frown faded. She turned and looked at the SEALs. A huge grin blossomed, and through the grin she felt tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “Line up, you assholes, I want to hug all of you,” Kat bellowed in a good imitation of a chief’s parade-ground voice. The SEALs responded by cheering and clapping. At last, Murdock pushed up his fist into the air. The room quieted at once.

  “Kat, walk over to the door and back.”

  She did, wiping away tears of pure joy and waving at the SEALs. She walked without a trace of a limp.

  “Now, Kat. Run to the far end of the room and run back.”

  Kat did, with only as slight limp on the way back.

  Murdock stood there frowning, his arms crossed protectively in front of him. Kat took up the same stance, staring hard at him.

  “Kat, you promise me you won’t get shot again, and you’re on the manifest.”

  A whoop of delight came from the SEALs, and they waved at Kat and went back to getting their gear ready.

  “Now, SEAL, you better get into the proper uniform for the jump. We only have another hour here. Move it.”

  Kat grinned and ran toward her quarters to change into desert cammies.

  When Murdock had his gear ready, he went to talk to the admiral, who put down the phone as Murdock came to a braced attention in front of his desk.

  “At ease, Commander. Sit. We have a C-130 from Rome. It took off twenty minutes ago and should be here in about two hours. We’ll do turnaround service on it and she’ll be ready to go. You’ll want a night drop?”

  “Yes, sir. As early after dark as possible. Flight time from here to our DZ should be about two and half hours.”

  “What our people figured. Dark this time of year in this zone is around seven o’clock. You’ll be over hostile territory for about fifty miles or six or seven minutes.”

  “Let’s have takeoff from here at 1630. That should work, sir.”

  “Sounds good to me, Commander. I’ll issue the orders and we’ll get you airborne.”

  “What about the Chinese ship, sir?”

  “She’s doing a turtle on us. She hasn’t shown her true colors. She’s anchored off a small island in the Aegean Sea about a hundred miles from here. Trying a waiting game. I don’t know why, unless she’s hoping we’ll relax our CAP over her. No chance another chopper is going to get near her.”

  “Maybe by the time we’re back from Syria things will have changed. If not we’ll figure out what to do.”

  “Good hunting over there, Commander Murdock. I wish we had better intel for you, but you do have one contact. You’ll be in a big-city situation again. Damascus has about two million people.”

  “We’ll put on our city manners, sir.” Murdock stood. “If there’s nothing else, Admiral.”

  “Dismissed, Commander, and good luck.”

  Murdock charged back to the quarters that NATO had made available to them. They had plenty of time before liftoff.

  Kat came back ten minutes later dressed and ready. She began to work on her gear, and at once four SEALs came to help her.

  “Thanks, guys. I really need this.” Her eyes had lost the anger, and now her face showed excitement, anticipation, and a little bit of fear.

  “At least we won’t be jumping into a combat zone,” she said. “I mean, nobody is going to shoot at us as we come down in our chutes.”

  “If we’re lucky,” Jack Mahanani said.

  Alpha Squad stood around kibitzing. They had just had their turn, and maybe lost a man doing it. Now Bravo would go in on a one-squad operation.

  Murdock had changed the weapons assignments. He selected five Bull Pups, one sniper rifle, one 21-E machine gun, and three MP-S5D submachine guns.

  An hour before flight time, De Witt had the squad in formation in the workroom and checked them. He made sure the men had the right ammo for their weapons. The Bull Pup shooters each had thirty rounds, a real load of the huge 20mm rounds.

  “Anybody not happy with his assigned weapon?” DeWitt asked. Murdock and Kat were at the end of the squad. Kat held up her hand.

  “Sir, I’d rather have a Bull Pup,” she said, grinning.

  “Sure and two hundred rounds of ammo,” somebody yelped. They all laughed.

  “Any other real questions?” DeWitt asked. There were none. “Okay, take a break. We get on the bus to go to the airfield in twenty minutes.”

  A half hour later, the SEALs and Kat rattled around in the huge hold of the C-130 like ten peas in a giant peapod. Some of them sat in the fold-down seats along the sides. Three were sacked out on some moving padding blankets on the floor.

  It was DeWitt’s operation. Murdock would act as another gun for him, and give advice if asked for it. If they had to split up, he’d con half the force. DeWitt had just come back from the cockpit, where he’d talked with the Air Force captain flying the big plane.

  “Captain Rothkind says he’s been on this run before, but with just two CIA guys. He says the best place to jump is about twenty miles from Damascus. Any closer than that and there are suburbs all over the place. He suggests we come down in the countryside out a ways and then make our way into town. That way nobody should report our coming.”

  “Agreed,” Murdock said.

  “The loadmaster said we’d be using the side doors for jumping, not the fold-down hatch on the back. We’ll hook up just the same and half the squad goes out each side door.”

  “Somehow it isn’t the same,” Murdock said, remembering that heart-throttling moment of the first step into space from the ramp.

  “Gets the job done,” DeWitt said, and went to check on a loose
strap he saw on one of the men.

  Kat sat beside Murdock. Her eyes still held the same snap and lightning charge they’d had when she was packing.

  “This better than tearing down nose cones in some subbasement somewhere?” Murdock asked.

  “A lot better, yes. This is so much more important, vital to the safety and well-being of the world.”

  “It’s good to see that there are still some optimists in the world who believe that the good, not the most powerful, will win the day. Now, on the practical side, we’ll be up all night. Might be a good idea to grab a couple hours of sleep.” Murdock frowned. “Oh, you have done free fall before, haven’t you?”

  “Absolutely, in training. We went from twelve thousand down to five.”

  Murdock winced. “This one will be a little longer, and colder. Be sure you have your face mask, oxygen mask, and gloves on. And keep your glow stick lit so we can find each other. We’ll use oxygen for the first twenty thousand feet or so.”

  “Real cold?”

  “Extremely cold for about ten thousand feet, then it eases up. It will take us two to three minutes to get to two thousand feet, where our chutes open automatically. If yours doesn’t, pull your emergency chute cord.”

  “Have you ever used your emergency?”

  “Not so far. Now, get to sleep.”

  Murdock closed his eyes, and a moment later a hand touched his arm. He looked that way.

  “Hey, super-SEAL. Is it all right if I’m just a little scared?”

  Murdock grinned in the darkness of the plane. “Sure, you bet. Wouldn’t be normal if you weren’t.”

  “Good.” She hesitated. “I don’t suppose you could put your arm around me and hold me tight for a minute.”

  “Not if you’re a SEAL. What would the other guys think?”

  “Uh-oh, yeah. I forgot. Right now I’m a SEAL, not a woman. I’ll remember that.” She stopped again, then looked up at his face in the darkness. “Hey, you remember about that rain check?”

  “I remember. One of my best memories.”

  She smiled. “Good. Now, good night.”

  Later, Murdock came awake in a flash. Somebody shook his shoulder.

  “Hey, Cap, need some advice.” DeWitt looked down at him. “You awake, Murdock?”

  “Almost. What’s the trouble?”

  “We just entered Syrian airspace. The captain up front tells me he has some bogies showing on his radar that are headed our way but about fifty miles out. That means they will be keeping company with us in about seven minutes. Close enough for an ID in three when they can fire their missiles. What the hell can we do? The pilot wants to turn back into Israeli airspace.”

  27

  33,000 feet over Syria

  Murdock went forward to talk with the pilot.

  “How far from our DZ?”

  “Twenty miles, and I’m ready to turn back,” the pilot said.

  “Turn on the jump light,” Murdock said. “We’ll go out here. We can’t turn back. Should give you time enough to get over the border before they fire their missiles.”

  “What if it doesn’t?” the pilot asked.

  “That’s why you flyboys get the big paychecks. Let’s move it, DeWitt.”

  It took them another minute to get everyone on their feet and at the jump doors. They turned on their oxygen and checked the eight-inch bottles on their harnesses, all were working. As soon as the loadmaster opened the doors, the SEALs jumped out. There was no time for anybody to even think about what was happening, let alone be afraid.

  Kat hesitated at the door. She was next to last out on that side. Murdock touched her shoulder. She flashed him a smile, then stepped into the thin, cold, 33,000 feet of nonsupportive air.

  Murdock went right behind her. He had his glow stick bent and working before he left the plane, as did the other SEALs.

  The cold air hit him in the face right through the woolen protective mask and oxygen mask that left only his eyes uncovered. It jolted him like a bucket of ice water hitting him while he stood naked in the snow at twenty below zero. He spread out into a glide position with his arms and legs spread. Then he began to look around.

  He craned his neck as he checked for the faint glow. He found two light sticks to the left, and moved his body to steer himself in that direction. By the time he got close enough to see the men in the thin, moonlit air, he counted three. There should be one more. All the SEALs had put on their Motorola personal radios before jumping and had radio-checked with DeWitt.

  Murdock used his. “DeWitt. I have four of us on this side. One is astray somewhere.”

  “DeWitt here. I have four chicks and me. Where is your stray?”

  “Left door jumpers, check in,” Murdock said on the mike, hoping the words didn’t freeze before they hit the airwaves.

  Everyone responded but Kat. “Kat, can you hear me? Where are you?”

  Nothing but silence came. He craned his neck, looking around. He thought he saw some faint glow in the far right. That would be DeWitt and his group. Where could she be? He stayed with his men, but looked behind and to the side and then up. She was smaller and lighter than the rest. Would that make a difference?

  He checked his wrist altimeter. They were at 28,000 feet. Where was she?

  He looked again to the side away from the others. For a moment he thought he saw a glow. Then it vanished. He left the group and sailed that direction.

  “Kat, can you hear me? Maybe your mike froze up. Remember about laying out with your arms and legs spread so you can sail? Try it. If it works, turn a little so you move to your right. And keep that glow stick in your hand. Yes, now I can see it. Steer right, more to the right. You should see my glow stick soon.”

  He could see her glow plainly then as she worked her way toward him.

  “Kat, if you can hear me, we’re at twenty thousand feet and it’s getting warmer. Try your mike again.”

  “Yes, I see you. Don’t know if the mike is working. I’m coming your way.”

  “Good, Kat, your mike is working. Swing farther my way, then we’ll join up with our group and DeWitt.”

  “I can see you!” Kat shrilled, her relief billowing into her voice. “Thank God. I thought I was alone in the whole universe. Really, I thought I was an astronaut cut loose from the tether in space. What a trip. What a ride. Just sail toward you?”

  “Doing fine. We’re at fifteen thousand. Won’t be long now.”

  By the time she was close enough, Murdock realized that DeWitt’s group had sailed over and joined with the rest of his party.

  DeWitt came on the radio. “Okay, we have a full count, we’re just passing ten thousand. Be down in a shake. Can anybody see a string of lights that might be cars on a road down there?”

  “No damn road,” Jefferson said.

  “Batch of lights up north, I guess it is,” Khai said. “Looks like a small town.”

  “Let’s all turn that way,” DeWitt said on the Motorola. “Maybe we can steal a car or a truck. What will hold ten bodies these days?”

  “Maybe a van,” Franklin said.

  “Coming up on two thousand, grab those emergency chute cords just in case,” DeWitt said. “Sound off when your chute opens.”

  “I’m open,” Ostercamp said. He was followed by the rest of the Bravo Squad.

  “Open,” Kat said, then Murdock chimed in.

  “We have ten open, let’s turn the chutes toward those lights and see if we can find a soft landing,” DeWitt ordered.

  Murdock could see Kat to his left. Her chute had opened before his, so she was a little above him. She turned and he turned with her, steering closer so he was only fifty feet away. They were behind the rest of the squad now, and Murdock started to relax. There were lights around, but scattered, like maybe farming country with houses. The town was well ahead of them.

  “Kat, watch it when you hit,” Murdock warned. “Run forward if you can. It’s a perfect jump if you can stay on your feet.”

  “
Seems like we’re going faster than that last night jump. My God, there it is, the ground.”

  Then Murdock stopped watching her and looked at his own LZ. He came down almost on top of a small building at the edge of a fenced field. He willed himself over the fence, then hit running in a plowed field and stumbled and fell. He jumped up, gathered in the parachute and lines according to the book, and ran with them ahead to where he had seen Kat land.

  He realized they were almost at the back door of a small farmhouse and buildings. Kat had gathered her chute, and stood there looking down at a man sprawled on the ground. Even in the dim moonlight Murdock could see the man’s penis outside his black trousers.

  Kat had trouble to keep from laughing. She motioned to the man, then to the small outhouse, and giggled.

  “He came out and stood there, legs spread taking a piss. I couldn’t miss him. My boots whacked hard into his head. Did I kill him?”

  Murdock looked at the man, then knelt down and touched his throat for the carotid artery. He stood.

  “He’ll live, but we better get out of here. Run, lady, run.” They rushed ahead toward where they saw the others picking up their chutes in a field of newly mown hay.

  “He isn’t dead, just knocked out,” Murdock told Kat. “Nobody will believe him when he tells his story tomorrow.”

  Just ahead they found another plowed field, and with the two entrenching tools they carried they dug out furrows, lined the chutes into them, and covered them up. Ten minutes later they were ready.

  DeWitt had sent out Miguel Fernandez as scout as soon as they landed. He came jogging back as they finished digging.

  “We’ve got a secondary road of some kind half a klick over here to the right. Not much traffic, but some. Damascus has to be north of us and a little to the east.”

  “Let’s hit the road and see what we can find out from the next neighborly truck driver,” DeWitt said. They moved out. Bravo Squad had its usual line of march. Fernandez out a hundred yards in front as scout, DeWitt next, with his radio man, Ostercamp, behind him with the SATCOM. Then came Franklin and Khai, who both could speak Arabic, followed by Mahanani, Canzoneri, Jefferson, Kat, and Murdock bringing up the rear.