by J C Ryan
“I’d give my left nut to have your way with these wolves. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of our young soldier here.”
“Come on, Mackie, let’s go check on the kids,” urged Carter.
Chapter 58 -
Religious experiences
At Ahote’s cabin, as soon as the first shots were fired, Ahote was out of bed and reaching for his .308 Winchester before he even knew he was awake. He’d instinctively analyzed what woke him before fully coherent. Gunshots, yells, and howling, to the south in the direction of Carter’s cabin. Bly was also alert and waiting for Ahote to speak.
“Stay here and lock the cabin. I’m going to see what’s going on.”
Bly felt the shivers down her spine. “The last time Mackie’s wolves were howling like that it was bad, very bad news,” she whispered.
The Spetsnaz group nearby had been ordered to standby but were getting ready to go to the aid of their comrades as they heard the chatter in their earpieces from the two attacking teams that things weren’t going well. What was that about wolves? As they stood to move out, the two bringing up the rear suddenly felt as if a ton of bricks hit them in their backs as two sixty-pound wolves hit them mid-leap, throwing them face first into the dirt.
The two in front turned at the sound of their teammates’ cries and bodies hitting the ground along with low growls as the wolves stood on their backs, holding them as they’d been taught — by the backs of their necks. One Spetsnaz raised his rifle, but halfway through the act, the .308 round from Ahote’s rifle hit him in the chest, lifted him off his feet, and slammed him into a tree trunk two paces away — dead on arrival. Ahote, who’d seen them from yards away, had worked his way toward them as they got ready to move out.
With two of his comrades quivering with fear of the wolf fangs around their necks, and the third dead from an encounter with a .308 Winchester, the fourth man lost all interest in the mission, dropped his weapon, and raised his hands.
Before tonight, he did not believe in heaven or hell, God or Satan, but he had just changed his mind and become a very religious man. He was convinced that these wolf-demon creatures, accompanied by a humanlike demon appearing from nowhere, could only be from one place — hell.
How many more of these creatures were still lurking out there? “Stay still,” he managed to advise his two terrified comrades in a very shaky voice. “They haven’t torn you apart yet. Don’t give them a reason. And pray my comrades, pray to God. Pray for all of us. Tonight, we’ve stepped into the devil’s lair. Only God Almighty can save our souls now.”
His two dirt-eating comrades, each with one of the wolf-demons still on their backs, were so preoccupied with controlling their breathing, bladders, and stomachs, they didn’t hear a single word of their newly converted team leader’s profound sermon.
Ahote had moved silently from his position behind a tree as soon as he took his shot. He was surprised to see the fourth man drop his weapon, but he grinned when he heard the man’s tone of voice as he spoke to the two on the ground. Although he didn’t understand the Russian words, he understood the fear behind them, and he didn’t know why, but the man’s tone of voice sounded kind of pious to him. Then he had his own spiritual experience when two EA guys appeared silently next to him. He had to clench to hold his water before recognizing them.
The EA men gave their wolves the command to let the enemy up, but they kept their guns trained on them.
“Who are you?” one asked. When the frightened Spetsnaz troops didn’t answer, they cuffed them and herded them toward Carter’s cabin, unaware that the translation center was also under attack.
***
When they had taken care of the four men at the cabin, Carter and Mackenzie assumed it was over and went inside to comfort their frightened kids. Liam was pale but held his little sister in his arms, rocking her back and forth and crooning one of his mom’s lullabies to calm her. Mackenzie rushed to them and gathered them in her arms, with Carter completing the group hug by enveloping all three in his.
Only when they’d assured themselves the kids were safe did they spare a thought for the others. Carter jumped up to go and see about them, but Mackenzie grabbed him around the leg. “Wait. What if there are more out there?”
“Dylan and his men are here now, and they brought the war-wolves. It should be safe.”
“Be careful, Carter”
“I will.”
Carter moved cautiously to the front door, checked the status of his ammunition, and then slipped out, hugging the front of the cabin. Loki and Keeva were nowhere to be seen, but from the direction of the translation cabin, Carter heard John Ruschin’s voice.
John had led the counter-clockwise group, and as soon as they realized the situation at the cabin was under control, had directed them to check on the translation cabin. When they were in position, they noted an intruder at one corner. Further observation revealed two others at other corners, and a fourth at the door. It looked like he was placing a charge to breach the reinforced door.
John was keenly aware of what was going on all around him. A single shot had come from the north. Sounded like a high-caliber rifle, but since there’d been only one, he assumed it was Ahote, and he probably had the situation under control. In any event, there was an EA team with wolves out there to help if he required any. The gunshots from the cabin had stopped moments before, and he’d observed Carter and Mackenzie openly entering their front door, as well as seeing Dylan trotting toward the cabin. No one else was covering the translation center.
He called out, “Drop your guns and put your hands—” He didn’t finish the sentence as the intruders began firing toward the sound of his voice. A double-tap from each of his men dropped the four bad guys. They’d never had a chance, having been in the sights of the EA team from before John’s instructions to drop their guns. They didn’t even have time to regret their stupid decision.
Chapter 59 -
We have your men
Only one Russian team remained. The south team, also on standby, had heard everything over open radios. The commander of the operation was with them, and with the last shots, the howling and yipping of the wolves, and the silence from the north team, he knew he and the three men with him were so deep in shit that there wasn’t enough water in the Black Sea to wash it off.
He gave the command to retreat to the north and south groups, knowing already that the east and west groups were done for. From the north group, a drawling voice in English replied to him. “We have your men. Give yourselves up, and we won’t set the wolves on you.”
The Spetsnaz leader spoke perfect English and knew he had no other choice but to retreat as quickly as possible. Without answering, he turned to signal his three squad members to head out. Only he couldn’t see them — they were already gone. He turned tail and ran as if the wolves were after him, and they were. Nadia and her brood tracked him and the three squad members silently, waiting for the command to take them down.
Back at the cabin, Carter and Mackenzie had come out again, after cautioning the children to stay where they were. Carter went to the EA team and began helping them make sense of what happened, while Mackenzie ran to the side of the cabin where she’d last seen the wounded wolf pup. She found the handler sitting beside a pup who was too still, his face in his hands, his shoulders heaving. Keeva lay with her head on her pup’s side, keening softly. Mackenzie drew up short.
“No! What happened? He was fine . . .”
The security guard lifted his tearstained face. “No, he wasn’t. I don’t know how he lived as long as he did. The shot nicked his heart. He . . . stopped breathing right after you left.”
Mackenzie burst into tears and went to her wolf friend. “Keeva, I’m so sorry!” She buried her face in the rich fur and sobbed. From far away, she heard Loki howl, a heart-rending wail that came from a broken wolf heart.
Dylan had reached his men and assessed the situation, meeting up with Carter as he examined the bodies of the men
at the translation center. Carter had knocked on Wasserman’s door and told him it was safe to come out. The old man also stood looking at the Spetsnaz dead. He spat on the ground nearby. “Barbarians,” he snarled. When Dylan reached Carter, the latter grabbed him by the shoulders.
“Liu?” Carter asked.
“At the camp. I’m sure she’s fine.” He raised his radio and contacted the men he’d left in charge of guarding Camp Tala, verifying that they’d seen no action there. “I guess they didn’t know about us. Liu is safe, but I’ll send two of these guys to get her and bring her here. Where’s Mackenzie? And your kids? And what about your in-laws?”
“Safe. The kids are in the cabin. Mackie went to check on one of the wolf pups who was wounded. We need to make sure her family is safe ASAP.”
Dylan signaled John to come over. “Can you take your guys and check on Mackenzie’s family in their cabin?” He followed Carter to the side of the cabin where Mackenzie had gone. When they rounded the corner, they took in the tragic scene. Mackenzie stood up, covered in the wolf pup’s blood. “If there are any left alive, I want them,” she snarled. Her red hair flew around her head, crackling with early-morning static electricity and making a terrifying halo as he shined the flashlight toward her.
“Mackie . . .”
“No! Don’t say it. I want to know who came into our sanctuary, threatened our children, our family and friends, and murdered one of my wolves. They’ll wish they had never been born.”
Carter wisely kept his mouth shut. He’d never seen Mackenzie so beside herself and wasn’t about to get in her way. She’d suffered a terrible shock — killed a man, which was no small thing, and had seen another have his throat ripped out by her wolf friend. She needed time. Carter nudged Dylan, and the two of them left the mother wolf, the handler, and Carter’s vengeful angel to grieve in peace.
When they’d gone around the corner of the cabin, Dylan put his hand on Carter’s shoulder. “My men are bringing in three of them. Ahote shot a fourth. It looked like they were being held on standby. What happened here?”
Carter mechanically recited the facts as he knew them, his heart and half his brain with Mackenzie. And then he registered what Dylan had said. “A third squad?”
“Yeah, and from what I’ve observed, they’re Special Forces. Which leads me to believe there’s a fourth one out there somewhere. I can only assume the wolves broke up their plans and maybe unnerved them enough to run.”
“Which of the wolves are accounted for?”
“Three of Loki and Keeva’s litter are guarding the attackers they helped capture. One dead, . . .” he took a deep breath and continued, “Keeva is with Mackenzie, Loki is out there somewhere — I heard him howling a moment ago. I don’t know where Nadia and her two are.”
“I think Mackie will want to know if the rest are safe.”
Chapter 60 -
We speak English only
Dylan noticed the three captured men coming into the clearing followed by three wolves, Ahote, and his two men. He spoke to them. “Hey, who’s handling Nadia’s pups?”
“I think it’s the guys in the counter-clockwise squad, but I think I know where the wolves are, if you’re looking for them. I had radio contact with the southern attack force, and I’m pretty sure they’re on the run. The wolves are probably following them.”
After exclamations all around about another squad of attackers, Dylan dispatched the handlers to find and guide the wolves who were presumably following the fleeing attackers. Then he and Carter secured the three captives to trees. Carter spared no mercy in tightening the cuffs.
Dylan ordered his men to retrieve all the bodies of their dead comrades and drop them in front of the captives where they could see them. All of this was done in total silence except for the grunts escaping from the prisoners as each body was dropped on the ground before them.
With that done, Dylan looked at the three men and said in a soft and measured but deadly voice, “Now, let’s have a nice little chat. Yes? Let’s start with something simple. How many of you came here?”
When they refused to speak, two of Dylan’s men stepped up and commanded the wolves to approach them. The two who had been pinned by the wolves before began trembling and stuttering incomprehensibly — in Russian.
“On this farm, we speak English only,” Carter said in perfect Russian. “As you can see” —he pointed to the bodies on the ground— “we and our wolf comrades don’t really like anyone who speaks Russian.”
They nodded eagerly, the message was very clear. When the two wolves started growling, all three of them tried to speak at the same time. By this time, their britches were soaked with urine. But their new leader, the recently converted believer, got the upper hand and started in perfect, almost unaccented English, “We were sixteen men. You and your demons have killed nine. So, there are seven of us left including the three of us here. Our mission leader and three more have escaped.”
The fugitives had a head start, but Dylan had a secret weapon. The last two wolves, and possibly their mother, Nadia, would be on their trail. They couldn’t outrun horses, and they surely couldn’t outrun wolves.
He turned to Carter and whispered, “Get hold of Ahote and saddle some horses for us.” Carter nodded and left, while Dylan continued the chat with his new Russian friends.
Chapter 61 -
Hot pursuit
By the time Dylan, Carter, and two more EA men mounted their horses, the fugitive Russian team had nearly an hour on them. But Dylan wasn’t worried. The horses would make up that distance quickly, as they proved when they caught up with the two wolf handlers and handed them the reigns of their horses, which Carter and Dylan had led. Keeping the pace at an easy trot, within half an hour they spotted the fleeing Russians in the distance.
The handlers used their dog-whistles to signal the wolves to break off their pursuit and come to them, keeping them safe from friendly and unfriendly fire. Nadia and her pups arrived in short order, panting from their exertion. The handlers gave them permission to stand down, and the wolves dropped to their resting position, but with their heads still high and on alert.
Carter pointed Dylan to the ravine, about three miles ahead of the Russians, and said, “They’re heading for the cover of that gorge. I know that place like the back of my hand. There is an ideal place to ambush them.”
Dylan nodded and told the men they would be circling wide around the Russians and setting up an ambush.
On arrival, Dylan made a quick tactical assessment and nodded at Carter. “It is exactly as you said, ‘an ideal place to ambush them.’ They’ll have to form a single file to get through that narrow cleft opening and those ledges up there” —he pointed to the outcrops, between twenty and thirty feet high on both sides— “will give us very good cover and put them under the crossfire from perdition if they are stupid enough to try and make a stand. I hope they don’t — I really want to have a bit more of a chat with these assholes, especially their fearless leader.”
Dylan ordered the two wolf handlers to take the wolves and all the horses and hide about a mile farther down the gorge and to keep their radios on in case they were called in for support.
Carter and Dylan, each accompanied by one of the EA men, took up positions on opposite sides of the gully.
About five minutes later, the four Russians came into sight. It was immediately obvious they had thrown caution to the wind. Their clothes and faces were drenched in sweat, and they didn’t even look around them, their eyes fixed on the ground in front of them as they were jogging along.
They were right in the middle of the killing ground when Dylan called out to them in Russian not quite as fluent as Carter’s, but still unmistakable, “Halt!”
Instead of obeying the command, the Russians looked toward the sound of the voice frantically, but the echo off the rocks made it impossible to pinpoint a location. Two of them dropped into shooting stance and started firing wildly in all directions. The firefight was
over in less than three seconds — the score was Freydís 2, Russians 0. One dead Russian and another wounded. The leader had thrown down his weapon, raised his hands above his head, and shouted, “My sdayemsya! We surrender!” in Russian and English.
Two of the men gave up their horses to carry the dead Russian and his wounded comrade, the EA men marching behind the captives with the wolves pacing on either side to ensure cooperation. It was a long walk.
Along the way, the wolves lifted their heads as if they heard something in the distance, and then set up an eerie howling they kept up all the way back to the ranch headquarters. Dylan thought he knew why but kept it to himself. Everyone else shivered, especially the Russians.
The mission leader had time to think things over.
These wolves have really spoiled our party and made complete asses out of all of us. Maybe they are just taunting us now with their howling.
And where the hell did these Special Forces operators come from? We never had any information about them. Someone has fucked up big time with the intel.
Whatever the reason for our botched operation, if any of us ever get out of this alive and are sent back to Russia, they’ll probably reopen the Siberian gulags just to accommodate us for the rest of our lives.
Maybe the best tactic would be to give up all information and plead to be locked away in a Canadian or American prison?
Once back at Freydís, Dylan and Carter asked that everyone except a few of the EA men and the wolves be relocated to Camp Tala until further notice. They didn’t want the women and children to witness what was going to happen next. Mackenzie was still in a foul mood, and it took a lot of persuasion to get her to go with everyone else. As far as she was concerned, she had the right to lead the interrogation. But Carter and her parents finally convinced her that the children needed her attention now more than the Russian intruders.