by John Ringo
Getting them out was a priority right up there with evaccing the casualties and Arensky.
Freq switch again. This time it was to a connection that automatically routed the call through a satellite.
"Tiger Two."
"Go, Kildar."
"I take it the helo is moving?"
"On the way," Nielson replied. "They have to fly through Guerrmo, though. They can get higher but not carrying any sort of useable load. And Guerrmo . . ."
"I saw," Mike replied. "So, is that a permissible Ranger AO?"
"Negative."
"Fuck."
"Sir, with all due respect, this is crap," Guerrin said.
He'd set up a satellite call to SOCOM. Their operational control for this mission ran direct to SOCOM, bypassing the Ranger command group entirely. It wasn't unusual to get tasked to other units that had operational control.
But he didn't usually talk directly to the SOCOM commander.
"I'm in agreement, Captain," General Howard said, mildly. "However, I just got off the phone with the CJCS on this very subject. Relations in the area are very touchy at this time. The Georgians don't want you fighting at all. They certainly don't want it apparent to the world that they can't control their own territory. So the Keldara have to fight their way out on their own. If the Chechens pass the entrance to Guerrmo Pass, if in other words they come past those defenses, you are clear to engage. Among other things, at that point it becomes self protection and I was firm on that point. But until then you are to remain in place and not engage anyone that is in or beyond the pass. Is that clear?"
"Clear, sir," J.P. said. "I will comply. If the situation changes, though . . ."
"I'll inform you immediately," the general said. "And I hope it does. For your information, I'm told the mission came off without a hitch. The only hitch is that the entire Chechen force in the area seems to be determined to wipe these guys off the map. And, trust me, I know exactly how it feels to just be sitting there in the rain not able to do a fucking thing. But that is exactly what you are going to do."
* * *
"Sergeant Sivula?" Jessia said, sticking her head in the doorway to the barracks.
"Yes," the sergeant said, rolling off his bunk and glad none of the guys were naked when she burst in.
"We are moving the mortars," Jessia said, panting. "The Keldara are trapped on the other side of the mountains."
"We got the word," Sivula said, walking over. The panting was doing really interesting things to her chest but he tried to ignore that. "But we can't do anything."
"Neither can we," Jessia admitted. "But we are going to move our mortars forward to support when they are in the pass. We can fire into it."
"Damn, that's right," Sivula said, grinning. "Let me get with the LT. I guess you'd like some help?"
"We are strong," Jessia said, shrugging. "But they are very heavy. As is the ammunition. Yes, we would like some help. As many strong backs as you can muster."
"Fuck, yeah," Sivula said. "I'll be with you in a few minutes."
The President stared at the take from the Predator and sighed. It was, more or less, gray clouds and not much else. The pilots had admitted that they were steering well away from mountains and otherwise entirely on instruments. Nothing could pierce the storm in the area.
"This is very frustrating."
"We can permit the Rangers to move," the CJCS said. "General Howard says that they are chomping at the bit."
"Georgia says not only no but hell no," the Secretary of State said with a sigh. "The defense minister has stuck his nose in to the whole thing. He's not about to let anyone think that the Georgians can't control their own territory. Even if that's truth."
"So the Keldara are going to have to fight their way out on their own," the president said.
"Unless this clears," the secretary of defense said.
"Unfortunately, this is all the time I can spare to this," the President said. "Or perhaps fortunately. Keep me apprised if the situation changes. If the weather clears, turn operational control of the Predators over to Mr. Jenkins. Use them at his discretion. Make sure at least one is up, armed, at all times. The B-2 is on the way back?"
"Yes, sir," the CJCS confirmed.
"Then my purpose here is really served," the President noted. "Time for real work."
No ambushes.
That was the good news. The bad news was that the easy part was over.
"Out!" Oleg was shouting from the back. "Move it!"
Mike glanced at his BFT device as he rolled out the door. The Chechen unit holding the road up ahead still hadn't moved, according to the device. Reality might be otherwise. The group behind them, according to the intercepts, was still held up at the roadblock. Damn, Adams was good.
The rain had slowed, at least. It wasn't clearing, really, but it had settled down to a steady, soft, really fucking cold, rain. Good weather for running.
The Keldara were already fading into the woods. He'd made it clear, get a point out in front but none of this slow-ass dicking around. The point now was simply speed.
"Why hello, Katya," Mike said as he trotted into the woods. The blonde was distinct, her hair practically glowed even in the near total darkness. He'd have to get her a balaclava. Somebody had already given her a coldweather suit. "Fancy meeting you here."
"This is not what I signed up for," the agent spat. "Running in the dark in woods is for you caveman types."
"If you can't make it, I'm sure Shota would be happy to carry you piggyback." The Keldara had been stripped, reluctantly, of most of his heavy armor for the run. Mike had heard him protesting from the back of the truck that he could keep up with it on, really he could. But Oleg had been firm.
"I'll keep up," the girl said, stumbling over a root. "If I could just see."
Mike stripped off his NVGs and stopped, pulling the girl over.
"Here," he said, slipping the harness on her head and adjusting it. Then he flipped the monocular down. "Better?"
"Yes, Kildar," Katya admitted. "Thank you."
"I can actually see pretty well in this," Mike admitted. He'd always had cateyes. "Oh, wait," he added, pulling off his own balaclava. He'd find one somewhere and his face and hair didn't stand out as much as hers. He slid the overlarge head covering on, after taking off the NVGs, then put those back on and adjusted the whole assembly.
"Thank you, again," Katya said, pulling up the hood of the weather suit. "Now, I think we run, yes? I wish I'd brought running shoes. But at least I'm in flats."
"You're going out as soon as we reach the LZ," Mike pointed out. "You should do fine. Stick with me, kid."
"I think I will," Katya said.
"Up, Vugar," Yosif said, cheerfully, yanking up on the ruck of the Keldara sprawled face down in a stream. "No lying down on the job."
"Just getting a drink, Yosif," the Keldara said, blowing out a mouthful of mud. "Gotta keep hydrated or the Kildar will have us sent to the Cold Lands."
They'd been trotting through the pitch-black woods for the last forty-five minutes and everyone had sprawled at least once. Even the Kildar had ended up sliding, backwards, down a hillside. Adams had run face-first into a tree, smashing his NVGs. Two men were on stretchers from injuries.
But they were nearly to the LZ, a bare hilltop four klicks from the road.
Now if the chopper would just be there.
* * *
"LZ in sight," Tammy said. "I don't see our friends. BFT has them nearby, though. I think we're coming down lonely, though."
"Gretchen," Kacey said over the intercom. "Make sure the Gatling is armed. We're coming into the LZ lonely so we don't know if it's hot or cold."
"Yes, ma'am," the Keldara girl said. "I will keep any enemies off."
"Just fire if fired upon," Kacey said, sighing. The girl positively wanted to get in a firefight. It was the last thing Kacey had on her mind.
The ride in had, frankly, sucked. The storm seemed to be breaking up but that just mean
t that the winds were getting worse. Coming through the high passes in the mountains, fighting the now piggish Hind in high altitude, had been a nightmare. She'd nearly clipped a mountain three times.
Now she had no clue what the winds on the LZ were going to be like. And it wasn't exactly large.
"Tiger, Tiger burning bright," Kacey said over the radio. "This is Valkyrie. Status, over."
"Valkyrie, this is Tiger One," Mike panted. He pulled on Katya's arm to drag her up the slope while thumbing his throat mike with the other hand. The agent was clearly just about done and he was half tempted to just throw her over his shoulder. Take that for calling him a "caveman." "We are five hundred meters east of LZ. ETA one mike, over."
"Roger, Tiger. We are going to swing around and come back. LZ looks clear, but . . ."
"Confirm, Tiger. Be there in a minute. Out."
"Just another minute, Katya," Mike said. "Come on."
"I . . . can't . . . breathe . . ." the agent panted.
"Surely you're not going to let us men out-do you?" Mike snarled. "The men are doing just fine but you puny women . . ."
"Oh FUCK you!" Katya snarled, pushing off from a tree. "I'll fucking race you to the top you fucking pig!"
"That's my girl," Mike muttered, quietly, as Katya stumbled up the hill, actually passing one of the panting Keldara shooters.
The wind was whipping the light rain into his eyes as he cleared the woodline. Katya was down on her hands and knees ralphing into the scrub that covered it. All good.
"Valkyrie, Valkyrie, this is Tiger," Mike panted. "LZ is clear."
Somebody, probably Pavel, was already laying out a Y with chemlights, indicating direction of wind.
"Y is laid," Mike continued. "Winds are high, repeat, high. About seventeen knots from the west. Suggest vector from east."
"Roger, Tiger. See Y. Inbound. Clear the LZ."
"Clear the LZ!" Mike shouted, thumbing his throat mike at the same time. "Incoming bird."
He grabbed Katya's arm and dragged her to the north side of the clearing, over into the trees on that side.
"Just one more run," he said. "Let them dump the ammo then you run girl. Good girl. You're a trooper."
"Oh fuck you," Katya said, spitting out bile. "Fuck this. Fuck the Keldara. Fuck missions. Fuck everything."
"Honey, you never want to fuck anything," Mike said, grinning into the rain. "But I appreciate the sentiment. Welcome to the wonderful world of soldiers."
"Damn that's a nasty wind," Kacey muttered. It was mostly from the west, yeah, but it was swirling around like a bitch.
"Six meters, three . . . touch," Tammy said, watching the FLIR.
"We're down," Kacey said over the intercom. "Gretchen, start dumping! We got wounded to load!"
Chapter Thirty-Five
"Hi, Gretchen," Dafyd Shaynav said, scrambling into the helicopter and starting to toss the boxes in the bay out the door.
"Hi, Dafyd," Gretchen replied, hefting a long, obviously heavy, package and tossing it into the howling darkness. "Where's Viktor?"
"He's . . . on the way," Dafyd replied as he kicked the last box of ammo out the door. "On the first stretcher."
"Hi, Gretchen," Viktor gasped as the stretcher was dumped into the holders. He was looking pretty happy given that there was a bandage bigger than his head slapped over his stomach. It was already bright red.
"Brother, I told you to be careful," Gretchen said, her face working. The Ranger medic had shown her how to start an IV and she pulled out a bag of O-positive blood, hanging it from a hook and sliding the IV into her brother's arm even as another body was dumped on the floor.
The man wasn't anyone she recognized, a fat man in Islamic clothing, his hands, feet and mouth bound with rigger tape.
"Another passenger," Dafyd said. "You're going to be heavy loaded."
She felt of Viktor's pulse then looked at the next casualty. Piotr Mahona had taken a bullet through the upper thigh, breaking his femoral bone but missing the artery. He, too, was in pretty good spirits, courtesy of two ampoules of morphine.
Juris Devlich had a head wound and was unconscious. She'd been told that head wounds bled rather spectacularly and the bloody mess of bandage was dripping already and the floor of the helicopter was becoming slick. His pulse was weak and thready. She took down the automatic defibrillator and, pulling open his uniform top, attached the leads to his chest. If his heart stopped beating, it was supposed to automatically restart it. One of the Ranger medics had told her to do that for the worst of the casualties but she had no clue what the damned thing did.
Vitali Kulcyanov was unconscious, too, a big bandage on his chest. There was blood coating his mouth and it had run down his face and into his hair.
Varlam Makanee had picked up grenade splinters in his calf and lifted himself into the helicopter, sliding to the rear and propping himself on the back wall.
"Hello, Gretchen," he said, grimacing but trying to sound light. "Nice night for flying don't you think?"
Katya scrambled on after him, looking around and then sitting down in the crew-chief's jump seat. Apparently Gretchen was going to be standing up for the whole flight.
Suddenly a large rubber bag was slid onto the slick floor, causing Varlam to have to pull his feet up so it would fit.
"Sion," Dafyd said. "He is away to the Halls."
"Oh, damn," Gretchen said, shaking her head.
"Don't grieve," Dafyd said. "Grieve for us who are forced to endure this fallen world. He has gone to the Halls. Rejoice."
A small heavyset man in some sort of rubber suit slid on last, looking around and then sitting down by Varlam. He nodded at her but she was far too busy checking the casualties. She wasn't going to try changing any of the bandages on the trip but all of the casualties were bleeding. She was mostly running in whole blood. She hoped that the Blackhawks had brought more or would bring more. She was just about out of O positive; most of the Keldara were that blood type.
"Gretchen."
"Yes, Captain Bathlick?"
"We're lifting off. We were supposed to pick up two more Keldara girls and one of the team leaders but I don't think we can. We're way overloaded so we're going to have to go through Guerrmo. Stand by the guns on my command. How are the casualties?"
"All alive so far," Gretchen said, looking at Viktor again. "Some of them are . . . very bad."
"I will try to hurry," Captain Bathlick replied as the helicopter staggered into the air.
"What did our personal Valkyrie bring?" Adams asked. There was a list somewhere in his BFT box, but he had never gotten the trick of bringing stuff up quickly.
"5.56," Oleg said, flashing a red-lens flashlight on the pile of boxes. "Magazines and belt for the SAWs. 7.62, belted and match for the snipers. Frags. And . . . why in the hell did they send us rocket ammo?"
"Here," Dmitri Devlich said, happily. "Where is Shota?"
"In the woodline," Oleg said. "Pouting because we left his armor behind. Why?"
"I think he'll stop pouting soon," Dmitri replied, lifting a long box up out of the scrub. It was a case for a Carl Gustav rocket launcher.
"Oh, fuck yeah," Adams said. "HEY! SHOTA! FRONT AND CENTER!"
"Sorry, Julia," Mike said as the helicopter lifted into the darkness.
"It is not a problem, Kildar." The commo girl didn't actually seem that put out. If anything the opposite. "Next lift, perhaps. The wounded have priority, yes?"
"Yes," Mike said. They were still a long way from home. There were going to be more casualties. "Adams? Get 'em moving."
* * *
The President signed the next paper on the stack then picked up the telephone and, without looking, pressed a button.
"Major," he said, sliding the next paper over and glancing at the header, "status on the Keldara and the Predators."
"Weather is starting to clear, Mr. President," the AF major replied. "Keldara made their first extraction without incident. The birds are going to have to fly throug
h some hostile fire, though. Dr. Arensky is onboard."
"Very well," the President said, hanging up without saying goodbye. He read the executive summary of the document, turned to the last page, signed it and then slid it to the side.