Eagle Station Part 36

"The light is a bit better. We can use these now."

"If you could see what you thought was me up there, and those guys all have these gla.s.ses, then he could probably see you.

Court felt his blood run cold. "Then he knows we're here."

In the dark he started tracing the wire from the set and from the battery to where they had broken.

"Yeah," Wolf said. "He's probably a stay-behind with a radio to keep an eye on his buddies' rear."

"And on the helipad, maybe." Court used his teeth and thumbnail in an attempt to strip the wires by feel, without much luck.

"Any of those Hmoung find you?" Court asked. "You get the radio or ammo?"

"Never saw 'em."

The shooting up the hill near the radar buildings and bunker stopped.

"You think they've overrun the place?" Court asked in the darkness.

Wolf didn't answer. Instead he grabbed Court's shoulder and whispered in his ear. "Get that thing fixed in a hurry. I think we've got company."

Court heard a faint sc.r.a.pe of equipment against a rock.

His fingers trembled and he tried to steady them to pick at the wires.

"He's close, very close," Wolf whispered in his ear. "And I can't see."

He felt around. "Where's your gun?"

"Out there with that guy I killed." He had an idea. "Give me your knife."

"You're nuts," Wolf whispered. "I wouldn't turn you loose against that guy with a howitzer, much less a knife."

"Very funny. Give it to me. I need to strip the Wires."

Wolf moved very slowly and by feel handed him his knife.

Court placed a wire against the blade and rubbed back and forth.

He heard the sound again. "He can't see us from the angle I last saw him," he whispered.

"I know," Wolf replied. "That's why he's out looking for you. Probably doesn't know there's two of us. Probably only spotted you as you dove into these rocks. That's why he didn't shoot earlier."

A loud explosion ripped the night with concussion and noise.

It was m.u.f.fled and contained by large rocks to one side of their position.

"Hurry," Wolf said. "That was a grenade. He's probing by fire.

Court felt what he hoped was the bare copper strands on both wires. "Put them on," he told Wolf. "I'll have them bare in a second, but I need to be next to you to hold them together. No time to splice."

Court felt Wolf grab the goggles and fumble them on his head.

"Everything will look green," he told him and pressed the wires together. Instantly Wolf rose to a crouch. The wires tugged in Court's hand and he rose with him. He felt Wolf rear back and heave something over the rocks with his left hand.

As soon as what he had tossed clattered off to the side, Wolf stood all the way up, swung his head from side to side like a searching radar beam, then suddenly fired a burst from his AK. Court heard a cry and the crash of a heavily loaded body falling among the rocks.

"Come on, easy now," Wolf said, and led Court to where the fallen soldier lay. Court let go of Wolf's wires and felt around in the dark until he found the man's goggles and battery pack and put them on. When he could see, he said, "This isn't where I first saw him. He was higher up. Maybe he's got some equipment up there we can use."

By touch alone, Wolf started to strip the man's body of grenades and AK-47 ammo pouches. He felt around the field pack and found a sharp-edged folding shovel, which he pulled loose and tucked under his belt in the small of his back. "Okay," he said, "you got the eyeb.a.l.l.s.

Go up there and bring down whatever we can use."

The clearing to the west still provided enough light as Court edged his way along the rocks and carefully climbed to where he thought the man had come from. As he gained the location, heavy firing broke out up at the site. He found some tins of water, what he thought was a radio in a backpack, more ammunition, and a bundle of what seemed like tent and camouflage material. He gathered everything up except the tenting and carefully worked his way down the rocks to Wolf.

"Here's our first order of business," he said to Wolf, handing him a water tin. By feel alone Wolf produced his Randall stiletto and punctured the tin and both men drank heavily.

"Look what I found while you were gone," Wolf said. He produced a small radio that Court could tell by feel was an RT-10 survival radio. "Was in one of his pockets. Probably the one Perrit had," Wolf continued.

Court was ecstatic. He snapped out the antenna and turned the set k.n.o.b by feel to Transmit/Receive, the only operable frequency used for emergencies by aircrewmen.

"Eagle, Eagle," he transmitted, "this is Phantom. You read?"

There was no answer, and Court tried again. This time Moonbeam, the ABCCC C- 1 30 on night orbit, answered.

"Phantom, this is Moonbewn. Got you weak but clear. What's going on down there? We're working Eagle on Fox Mike, said all his UHF and VHF antennas were blown down. He said you all are under attack and that you were missing, along with some Army guy. He's inside some kind of a bunker and doesn't know who's doing what."

"Moonbeam," Court transmitted, "the site is under attack by Caucasians who speak Russian. Now you tell that to MACV.

Tell them we need air support, and if we can't have any, we need to be gotten out of here. We won't have any kind of a count until daylight, but I think we've been hit bad."

Court asked Wolf what he thought was going on, while they waited for an answer from 7th Air Force in Saigon.

"What's going on is exactly what I told those Scheisskopfs in Vientiane would go on: the b.l.o.o.d.y Spetsnaz are working us over and in a very professional way. No handful of Hak's men are going to stop these guys.

We need outside help, big outside help."

"Phantom, Moonbeam."

"Go ahead."

"Yes, sir. Ali, 7th said that given the weather circ.u.mstances he'd rather not risk any aircraft in your area, at least not before daylight.

You copy?"

"Moonbeam, Phantom copies. Moonbeam, you in contact with any Phantom FACs right now?"

"As a matter of fact we are, Phantom Leader," the Moonbeam controller said with conspiratorial pride in his voice.

"Phantom Leader," a new voice broke in on Guard Channel, "this is Phantom Zero Three. We're holding over Delta 36 at this time. We read you weak but clear." Delta was the coded reference for a geographical area in Laos.

All US military and civilian aircraft have a second receiver to monitor the emergency channels of 243.0 on URF and 121.5 on VHF and can switch their transmitters to talk on that frequency.

Phantom Zero Three, although on another mission, could hear the traffic between Court on the ground and the controller airborne in the ABCCC.

Every other plane within the 200-mile radio range monitoring Guard Channel could also hear the transmissions. Normally, emergency transmissions were soon switched to another channel once contact was made, to leave Guard Channel free for other problems. Court could not do this because his survival radio had only the one emergency channel.

Court recognized the voice of Phantom Zero Three as that of Ken Tanaka.

Normally Phantoms did not hold over Delta 36.

Their mission was to patrol the Ho Chi Minh Trail at night for trucks and guns.

"Hey, Zero Three," Court transmitted, "what's your mission?"

"Night Rescap escort," Tanaka said.

Wolf was listening to the exchange. "What's that?" he asked.

"Something is going on over North Vietnam, and we have some Jolly Green rescue helicopters on alert at Lima 36. The Phantoms will be initial escort in case they have to go in after a shootdown." Delta 36 and Lima 36 were the same place.

"We need a little Rescap here ourselves," Wolf grunted.

"Copy," Court said to Tanaka. "You got to stay where you are. Any other Phantom up tonight?"

"Roger, boss," a new voice came up on the radio. "This is Zero Two.

Just happen to be in your local area with nothing to do. Weather is Delta Sierra on the Trail." Phantom Zero Two was Howie Joseph, Court's operations officer, the number two man in the Phantom FACs. Delta Sierra was pilot talk for "dog s.h.i.t."

"How much playtime you got, Zero Two?" Court asked how much fuel the pilot had, translated into flying time.

"About an hour, then off to the tank." The Phantom FACs would aerial-refuel from KC-135 tankers...o...b..ting just across the fence in Thai airs.p.a.ce.

"Keep monitoring this freq, Zero Two. I may have something for you." He turned the radio off and put it in his pocket. The firing was heavier from the bunker complex.

"We gotta get your p.r.i.c.k-25," Wolf said. "We gotta talk to the bunker."

Court pulled the goggles up. "I can see the general area well enough to go get it."

"Go ahead, I'll cover you."

"How? You can't see."

"Simple, anybody shoots at you, I shoot at the muzzle flash, then move my position."

"Oh, good deal." Court adjusted the gla.s.ses and crawled off into the gra.s.s. He found it quicker to skirt the edge of the helipad, and in seconds was picking up his radio and the bag of ammunition. As an afterthought he detoured out to the middle of the pad to get the rifle he had left by the dead man. When he arrived where he was sure the man had gone down, he found nothing: no body, no gun. He had a terrible feeling of being watched. He kept the radio and the bag and moved quickly back to the rock sanctuary where he had left Wolf and slid in between the two boulders. Wolf wasn't there.

2345 Hours LOCAL, FRIDAY 1 NOVEMBER 1968 EAGLE STATION AT LIMA SITE 85.

ROYALTY OF LAos Wolf was missing. Court drew back as if struck by a snake.

The two events could only mean one thing: some Spetsnaz had returned for whatever reason, and, wearing the goggles, had found their dead companion and somehow found Wolf. They were probably still in the area.

His stomach gave a half-twist as he remembered Wolf's words about what they would do to a man who killed one of their own. His mouth went dry and he desperately wished he had never, ever gone out of the safety of the bunker into the night. He backed up from that and wished he had never, ever accepted the TDY to Ea-le Station; but maybe he never should have joined the military. He almost grinned at the absurdity of this line of reasoning. He had had it before and recognized it for what it was: his body's attempt to tell his brain that he was in serious trouble and that if he had only done something different at an earlier time this terrible situation would not have arisen.

Even in the split second these thoughts were flashing through Court's mind, he knew he had to get away from the position.

He looked up the rock pile and decided that was the best place to be: take the high ground. At least that's what all the movie lines said to do. Oh G.o.d, if only this were a movie. He felt around for the water tin, which he had decided he'd better have, and found it near the folding shovel. He stuffed both in the bag, shouldered the radio, and started the laborious slow climb to the top, trying to shake off the feeling of doom that was weighing him down.

As he worked his way up, he remembered that Wolf had pulled the shovel from the second dead man's pack and, he was sure, had tucked it into his belt behind his back. Finding it now, he reasoned, meant that Wolf had felt or seen what was coming and had slowly eased the shovel from his belt into a rudimentary hiding place. Maybe Wolf wasn't dead, he thought.

Once on top he lay flat and scanned the area through the goggles. He saw movement near Mister Sam's hut and saw what he interpreted to be two men doing something to a third.

Oh G.o.d, that's Wolf, he thought. They've got him and they're going to do the same thing they did to the Hmoung. I've got to help him-but how without a gun?

Court rummaged through the bag and found what felt like hand grenades, the water tin, and a few flares. There were boxes of what he was sure was ammunition for the AKs and nothing else. Hand grenades and a shovel. How to do this? In the dark, he picked up the shovel and hefted it. It felt balanced and menacing in his hand as if it were an ancient warrior's weapon and not just a tool with which to dig dirt. He took stock. With the goggles he had night vision, with the grenades he had a relatively long-distance weapon, and with the shovel he had a close-in fighting tool.

His tongue felt thick and he realized he was terribly thirsty.

His own sweat was now so much a part of him that he had almost forgotten he was soaked. He used the shovel to open the water tin and was surprised how easily the sharp steel of the blade cut the metal. He took long swallows, paused for breath, and took more. Then he rechecked the goggles, shoved grenades in his pockets, and started back down the rock pile.

He had to keep swinging his head to keep oriented as he peered through the tubes. He plotted his course so as to not be seen by anyone farther up the path toward the radar complex.

The firing was intermittent up the hill, and he tried to use the noise to mask his footsteps and movements over the rocks. Soon he was in the gra.s.s and had to lie flat to crawl up to the hut. He found he could not quietly drag the radio with him and had to leave it behind. Then, as he got closer, he could see what was going on among the three blobs. Two of them were shoving and pummeling a third. Court guessed the two Spetsnaz men, who wore their goggles, were toying with Wolf, who could not see.

At one point Wolf caught hold of one man's arm when he came too close, but the other circled behind and banged something off Wolf's head. The goggle resolution wasn't good enough to see what they were hitting him with, but Court could hear the smacks and Wolf's grunts as the blows landed.

Jesus Christ. I can't just jump in there swinging a shoveL These guys are masters at this.

Then he had an idea. A sudden flash of light amplified through the goggles might blind them enough so that he could step in and jerk their battery wires out. Then he would be the man with sight in the kingdom of the blind. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two grenades.

He couldn't remember the timing interval between releasing the spoon and the detonation, thought the h.e.l.l with it, put one in each hand, held them to his mouth one after the other, and pulled the pins with his teeth ' He flung one to the left of the three men and one to the right and lay flat on the ground and closed his eyes.

When the explosions sounded, he leapt to his feet, held his goggles in place with his left hand and the shovel in his right, and ran to the area. He was astounded by the residual light left from the burning powder and bits of sparkle that clung to the gra.s.s where the grenades had detonated. The increased light made the resolution very clear, but all he could see was one figure, bent over, the bulk of which made him sure it was Wolf.

He knew he had about a half a second to find the men and disable them when he saw they had each dropped to the ground and were pulling sidearms from their holsters. The resolution was now so good he could see the lines of the goggles and the wires running down their backs to the battery packs. One man had pulled his off. Court made it to the man who still wore his and chopped wildly with his shovel at wires on his back. The shovel buried itself in the man's back with a chopping grinding sound and wedged tight in his spinal structure. Court couldn't pull it loose. The man gave a hoa.r.s.e scream and bent back like a bow.

Court heard the blast of a pistol close behind and dropped to the ground. As he hit, his night goggles jarred loose and he couldn't see.

From the direction of the shot he realized it was probably the second Spetsnaz, shooting at sound only. As he fumbled the goggles back on he heard a rushing of steps across the earth, then a heavy thump, and regained vision in time to see Wolf Lochert fling himself on a man in the gra.s.s holding a pistol. Court scrambled over to help, but as he did he saw Wolf's hands close on the pistol and force it to the man's stomach and squeeze so hard the gun went off and the man went limp.

"Oh my G.o.d, Wolf, you're okay," Court gasped out as he slid to the earth next to the two men.

"Christ almighty," Wolf said between pants and gasps. "I've told you not to swear." He sat up and felt the man's throat.

"He's dead. What about the other one?"

"I chopped him in the back with the shovel. I couldn't get it out."