Whatever Gods May Be Part 31

Lynn grabbed Jamie's arm and squeezed back, nodding, her face tense, her difficulty swallowing apparent.

"Then let's crank it."

Jamie winked at Lynn and turned away, signaling North Carolina as she walked quickly toward the cave entrance. At the edge of her vision, she saw North Carolina step in alongside Lynn, saw Lynn watching her as she put on her eyewraps and then her boonie hat. She looked over her shoulder one final time and smiled again-to make sure the last Lynn Hillinger saw of her was that smile.

* 252 *

Chapter thirty.

pranCer aCtual This is Rubyfish Actual. We are taking fire from the south and will engage."

Oh christ, already a cl.u.s.terf.u.c.k. So much for stealth.

Rubyfish had dropped onto the plateau almost an hour earlier than scheduled because previously undetected PIA had been eyeballed little more than a kilometer south of the cave. Jamie and the five others with comlinks flipped on active signaling just as the last of the escapees emerged from the cave.

At least the chaos somewhat impeded the enemy's ability to track their comlinks' active signals, but Jamie didn't find this consoling. She would much rather have traded easy commo and real-time ops center chatter for the chance to get everyone on the helo before the enemy found anything to shoot at.

Now all that was moot and Jamie worried about her cover teams.

Not Prancer-Dog One and Prancer-Dog Two. They should be okay unless the pickup itself goes all to h.e.l.l.

But only Vargas and Tibay held Prancer-Dog Three, that high, fortress-like spot on the rocky ridge above the cave entrance. They had both SAWs, an E19 a.s.sault rifle, an E112 sniper rifle, and sweeping views of Rubyfish's position to the southwest as well as the escapee pickup point, Prancer X-Ray, to the north. s.h.i.t. Prancer-Dog Three is the crux of this. If Vargas and Tibay can't hold long enough, the pickup'll turn into a turkey shoot. Should've risked putting more people up there.

"Prancer Actual," a familiar voice called through Jamie's comlink, "this is Bravo Overlord confirming commo up."

* 253 *

"Prancer Actual rogers commo up," Jamie answered. Hey, that's Embry. So the old man's commanding this one himself.

"How's the senator?" crackled Embry's voice.

"Cool beans, sir. She'll be first on the boat."

"Roger, Prancer Actual." Embry's voice relaxed some. "Thanks." Because of the scout team's earlier clearing efforts, Donato and Sherman had little trouble moving everyone as planned along the rough slope. They progressed well despite steep, jagged ground and the effort of keeping themselves camouflaged under tarps as they went. Soon they'd be crossing the coulee.

A broad, shallow scoop-out of the land, the coulee's eroded limestone floor was already mostly dry and free of mud. Scattered with boulders and outcrops of darker, crystalline rocks, the coulee began as a narrow dip in the ridge above the cave and widened to the northwest, then due north around a wooded knoll to a wide, flat area that had been selected as Prancer X-Ray.

"Make sure they're under the tarps, sir," Jamie had reminded Donato, who did better when reminded. "And once you get to that knoll, stay near it along the east side of the coulee where there's concealment.

Use that concealment 'til you reach Prancer X-Ray." Now, as she prowled the knoll watching over the line of escapees, mini versions of the ops center's screens appeared near the bottom of Jamie's comlink's shadowscreen; she took a moment to eyeball one of them, and a second later a semitransparent version of it zoomed larger.

It showed the pickup drama playing out from a satellite point-of-view, complete with precise topographical grid overlays and real-time helo movements. Yes! The helos were right where they should be. Jamie dared to allow herself some optimism.

Positioned finally above the southeastern edge of Prancer X-Ray, Jamie saw Lynn crossing the coulee. The only weapons fire remained on the other side of the ridge, south of Rubyfish. Much closer than she'd have liked, but still far enough away. Just thirty minutes, that's all we need...

Then everything popped at once.

"Prancer-Dog Three reports PIA in multiple positions approaching fast," rasped Vargas. "s.h.i.t! Some are trying to move between us and Rubyfish. Count maybe thirty at OC grid November-Niner-Six moving * 254 *

northwest. Count five-make that eight, nine, more, there's more-at November-Niner-Seven, moving north."

PIA fighters-too many of them-now threatened to cut off Rubyfish and trap it in crossfire. The good news was that the Rubyfish commander didn't have to be told what to do.

"Rubyfish Actual copies," declared a steady male voice.

"Rubyfish moving northeast toward Prancer-Dog Three and will engage additional enemy at November-Niner-Six and Niner-Seven." But Vargas hadn't finished, and this time fear pitched his voice higher, tighter. "Oh christ, there's a whole other crew east-southeast of us, heading for the dip in the ridge. Prancer Actual, they'll be coming into the coulee straight at you. At the rate they're going, estimate twenty minutes before they have line of sight to Prancer X-Ray." Ops center surveillance was useless, of course. The PIA fighters wore countermeasures that made them invisible to radar, infrared, or thermal detection. Now came Jamie's turn to stay steady. "Prancer-Dog Three, report number and location."

"Twenty-plus at November-Niner-Niner moving west-northwest."

"Prancer-Dog Three, priority target those heading for the dip in the ridge," Jamie ordered.

s.h.i.t. s.h.i.t. Hardly any margin. The PIA fighters approaching from the east-southeast were a mere three hundred meters from the escapees, maybe less. Time slid into slow motion as Jamie snapped off a series of orders while she scrambled to intercept the enemy. Not enough helo support. Not enough.

Jamie requested more, although she knew help would arrive too late. But at least she managed to get Rubyfish's Barracudas diverted, so now two attack helos targeted the PIA approaching Prancer X-Ray while two others protected the escapees' Shark transport helo. And she ordered the Shark to leave without Prancer-Dog Three or Prancer Actual.

"We will extract with Rubyfish," Jamie yelled over her comlink.

"I say again: Do not wait for Prancer-Dog Three or Prancer Actual." But before the Barracudas had a chance to pounce, before the Shark got close enough for the escapees to scramble aboard, someone very close to Prancer X-Ray initiated fire. A second later, Jamie heard * 255 *

Donato shouting at the escapees to find cover. Then he screamed at Sherman to come back.

The lieutenant, covering the rear of the line of escapees, had abandoned his concealment to return up the coulee toward the ridge, climbing to his best guess about the source of PIA fire and shooting blind. Immediately, a PIA fighter with a Chinese Type 86 sniper rifle returned fire.

Probably a scout out ahead of the rest of them, already in the coulee. b.a.s.t.a.r.d should never have fired at Sherman and given away his position, but maybe he figures it doesn't matter, because now, right now, he's reporting the location of Prancer X-Ray.

Which meant the enemy wouldn't need line-of-sight to Prancer X-Ray. All they need is a decent grenade launcher. If a single well-aimed smart grenade exploded a few meters in the air above them, it could kill or maim every one of the escapees. And once over the dip in the ridge, the enemy would be plenty close enough to try. Hollering orders as she went, Jamie humped, hoping to close in on the PIA scout first and then get around the knoll in time to cut off the rest of the PIA fighters as they came over the dip in the ridge.

"Some're getting past us!" yelled Vargas.

Jamie pumped her burning legs, forgoing stealth for speed, and made it back to the coulee with seconds to spare before a PIA crew appeared ahead of her. She took out three of them before they realized she was there, hardly noticing the effect on her hands of aiming the weapon, squeezing the trigger. Another ten or twelve PIA quickly turned their attention to her, exactly as she'd hoped they would.

But the PIA scout had gotten past her. "Prancer X-Ray." Jamie worked to keep her voice even and sure. "PIA snipe to your-" Three shots popped off behind her, between her and Prancer X-Ray. "Got him!" screeched Sherman. "I f.u.c.king nailed him!"

"Good, Sherman," Jamie told him via comlink. "Glad you're a better shot than he was. Did he clip you?"

"Negative. I'm okay."

Jamie hesitated for a nanosecond while she decided: Send Sherman back north to Prancer X-Ray and out on the Shark, or let him stay and fight. She could use the help. And she wondered if he'd even obey an order to withdraw. Okay, boy, you asked for it. "New orders, * 256 *

Lieutenant. I want you to cross the coulee and make your way up the bluff to Prancer-Dog Three."

"Roger," huffed Sherman. "Where?"

"Prancer-Dog Three. You will ascend the bluff and join Vargas and Tibay at Prancer-Dog Three. But first you have to cross the coulee."

Jamie got no reply but could see Sherman on her shadowscreen.

He wasn't moving. "Move to your one o'clock. My count, Sherman, move on three." She paused for not even a whole second. "One...

two..." She began firing. "Three! Go! Go go go GO!" At last, Sherman moved. While he ran, a Barracuda swooped in low above Jamie, drawing PIA rifle fire before its autocannon sh.e.l.ls erupted in a fiery line farther up the coulee toward the enemy. Jamie's comlink told her the escapees were boarding the Shark, and amidst a bedlam of voices, she glanced up to see a line of four PIA WZ-12 attack helicopters swinging in from the southeast. They'd be over her head in minutes.

Out of the cacophony she determined that the escapees needed another few minutes to board the Shark transport helo, that the fast-approaching WZ-12s would be able to target the escapees' helo before any of the Barracudas had time to loop around and intervene, and on the other side of the ridge, Rubyfish was firing in three directions and reporting the appearance of yet another three WZ-12s low on the southwest horizon.

Jamie hoped the Barracuda's sh.e.l.ls had taken out the PIA fighters shooting at her moments earlier. Because any remaining PIA were about to get a clear shot at her. She rose from behind the huge boulder that had protected her from enemy fire to stabilize her sniper rifle on it and aim at the lead WZ-12.

Come on, goober, don't let them shoot first. She aimed at the rear rotor housing, pulled the trigger once, twice, again. The helicopter sputtered and tilted violently into the WZ-12 close behind it. The two aircraft arced downward, rotors mangling, pulled inexorably into a mountainside northeast of Prancer X-Ray. Jamie shifted slightly right to aim at the third helo. Four .416-cal rounds later, it bucked, did a high, slow back flip, and exploded as it slammed into the slopes of Mount Landargun to the east.

* 257 *

The fourth WZ-12 sprayed heavy machine-gun fire and autocannon sh.e.l.ls down the coulee toward her. Jamie huddled against the boulder just before a sh.e.l.l detonated somewhere on the other side of it, its blast wave sending up dust and debris and bouncing several large rocks like basketb.a.l.l.s. Somehow the blast wave spared her. From a low crouch, ears ringing, she twisted to follow the helo through the rising smoke of the explosion and emptied the sniper rifle's ammo stack into it-to no avail.

But a Barracuda rocket caught the helo and it skewed into a line of trees well to the west just as a chunk of rock chipped and whined an inch away from Jamie's arm. She tried to swing her weapon toward where she thought a shooter must lurk, but her left arm had gone heavy and numb and her fingers didn't want to move.

f.u.c.k, I've been hit!

Sliding down behind the boulder, she watched swaths of blood spread along her sleeve-and her cammie blouse. Oh, christ, a chest wound. Why am I still conscious? Why am I still alive?

She yanked open her blouse and checked beneath her blood-drenched T-shirt to find several holes. Something small and sleek had plowed through her upper left arm and drilled through both b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Must've missed the bone...that's why it doesn't hurt so much.

She pulled out strips of quick-bandage from a pouch on her left leg and slapped them across her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and her left bicep, which did hurt.

Come on, goober, gotta focus. At least one PIA near the top of the coulee, more coming through the dip in the ridge. Sherman somewhere out there rampaging for America. Leaves just Prancer-Dog Three and me to keep them from Prancer X-Ray...

And Vargas and Tibay now had to sustain fire in several nearly opposite directions. Jamie found herself wishing again, wishing she'd put more people up on the ridge at Prancer-Dog Three.

Wishing in combat means you f.u.c.ked up. Two mistakes, G.o.ddammit!

On her eyewraps shadowscreen, she found her first mistake, Sherman, still moving toward the bluff. He stopped, and she hoped he'd merely fallen but figured he'd probably been hit, an easy target for the enemy because he wasn't wearing pa.s.sive-identifier cammies. Or maybe he'd been injured by the PIA sh.e.l.l's blast wave.

* 258 *

And finally, like a spark igniting one of those old internal combustion engines, Jamie understood. He'd seen Cavanaugh bloodied and dead in front of him. Cavanaugh was his Arnie. s.h.i.t. I'm gonna lose him. She faltered then as hope oozed out of her. The escapees were still boarding their helo, still on the ground. And she was helpless. I'm gonna lose them, too.

The kicka.s.s voice out of her past startled her. "Faster, Gwyn-moron!

This ain't the freaking Magic Kingdom!" She reacted instinctively, scurrying for its own sake, not quite aware of where she was going.

Her left arm burned and pounded and seeped blood. It hung at her side, unwilling to partic.i.p.ate as she clambered to a small, rocky promontory in the middle of the coulee. It was an accidental choice, but a good one: She had an un.o.bstructed view of anyone coming over the dip in the ridge-and anyone coming down the coulee toward Prancer X-Ray had to get by that spot.

"Yes. Here." Here she might, just might, hold them long enough for the Shark to get everyone aboard and get the h.e.l.l out. As fast as she could, Jamie laid out both weapons, piled several ammo stacks within easy reach, and hunkered into position using her good right arm to position her nearly useless left one.

By the time she got her finger on a trigger, a dozen PIA fighters were coming right at her. She opened fire and they all went down in a few seconds. But plenty more followed close behind them. Worse still, the enemy had already identified her location.

Diving to avoid their fire, she watched the fine, wisping red lines of their bullets' trajectories on her comlink screen and called again for air support. It would be a while coming.

Mistake three: We've underestimated how much they want us and how many people they're willing to sacrifice to get us.

Jamie registered where her comlink screen trajectories indicated the closest PIA fighters were. Right. Gotta go right. So she shifted right, her adrenaline pumping so fiercely that even her left arm did her bidding. Five meters from her earlier position, she swung out from behind the rock formation, sprayed the area before her, and ran toward another outcrop.

Jamie was retreating but taking out her pursuers as she went. Just before she reached the shelter of the second outcrop, a spear of fire * 259 *

impaled her left shoulder near her neck. She staggered, breathless and battling to stay conscious as she fell.

"s.h.i.t!" she wheezed, trying to keep herself sentient. "s.h.i.t!" Then, at last, over the comlink she heard it. The Shark was airborne with twenty-eight undamaged "packages," and, escorted by the Barracudas, would be in safe airs.p.a.ce in minutes.

"Prancer Actual," shouted Vargas, "PIA above you, at your three on the ledge above you!"

Without something very like a miracle, Jamie knew, the shooter on the ledge would nail her in a few seconds and she'd be dead. She stared up at the firmament's uninterrupted blueness backlighting the trees that clung to the sides of the coulee, inexplicably pleased that she'd die beneath a cloudless sky.

"This is Bravo Overlord." Embry's voice came from another universe. "We're sending in the cavalry. ETA fifteen minutes." Jamie knew she had nowhere near as long as fifteen minutes, and she didn't want to hear Embry's description of what he'd sent to help them. She was so tired, and the sky was so blue, so, so magnificent.

But why hasn't that b.a.s.t.a.r.d up their started shooting yet?

"Prancer Actual, PIA above you," Vargas shouted again. "C'mon, LT, get up and go right. Go right. Go go GO!" Jamie found herself on her feet, running, shoved by "go go go" to the other end of the outcrop ten meters away. Aimed at her from a ledge halfway up the bluff, a spray of shots surrounded her.

Wow. b.a.s.t.a.r.d missed. Gives me... one... more... chance...

Then she heard Embry's voice over her comlink. "Don't shoot, Prancer Actual, don't shoot. PIA do traj tracking now." Jamie growled at the thought of him watching her, at the very sound of him. "f.u.c.ker." Why the h.e.l.l didn't you give us what I asked for? Then I wouldn't need your pathetic G.o.dd.a.m.n coaching! "Aah-aagh!" she raged. "f.u.c.ker!"

A second later she got hit again. She yelped at the pain in her left calf, her vision red-rimmed with fury as she stumbled and fell. But her rage drove her to her feet again and she scuttled limping across the rest of the coulee under fire from two directions. She made it all the way to the base of the bluff, at last protected by a shallow overhang from the PIA shooter on the ledge above.

* 260 *

"Aaahh! Jeee-zus!" Jamie gasped just as a Barracuda swung in low and close to detonate rockets up the coulee while its gunner sprayed rounds at the PIA shooter on the ledge above her.

"Hey hey there, Prancer," whooped one of the Barracuda crew.

"Got some for ya!"

"Yesss!" Jamie hissed. The Barracuda had delivered her reprieve just in time.

"Prancer Actual," Vargas called. "Prancer-Dog Three reports the high road is clear. I say again: The high road is clear. Come on up, Prancer Actual. Join the f.u.c.king party."

Jamie could see the path to take up the side of the rocky bluff- steep, forbidding even. But doable. Come on, it's doable. She stared at it but didn't move, swooning involuntarily away from the pain.

"Jamie!" another voice shouted, rousing her. "Jamie!" it demanded again, sounding remarkably like Lynn Hillinger.

"Lynn?" Alert now, Jamie looked around. No, no, she's on the helo... on the helo...