Finish the Course (The Barnes Family Book 1) (2 page)

She looked at the injured man. He was dozing.

“How long?”

“Four days, tops, but you should watch for a chopper as early as first light.”

It was her turn to nod.

“I would leave someone else with you, but we’re already short- handed.”

She frowned, “I understand, Captain.”

“He’s ‘Chief,’” Chung commented.

“Sorry, Chief,” she corrected herself.

“Not a problem.”

“If we don’t hear that you’ve been picked up, we’ll try to get back after our mission is complete,” Porter offered, “but we may not be able to.”

Slater thought he saw a snippet of fear pass through the woman’s eyes, but it was gone quickly.

“I assume you have a contingency plan in that event.”

Garret leaned a little closer to the woman and lowered his voice, “Nobody’s gonna leave you out here, Captain.”

Slater shot the man a look that he hoped said, ‘No flirting on a mission.’

Turner finally had something to say, “They may get you before they get us. You radioed your location, and they’ll probably come looking.”

“Oh, they’ll come looking alright,” Barnes sounded like a teenager who had stayed out past curfew. “When it comes out that they let me on this mission, there’s going to be a boatload of trouble going down.”

Slater narrowed his eyes at her before glancing to Hall. That sergeant was beginning to look a bit uncomfortable. Even Chung had stopped what he was doing.

“Um, Captain Barnes” Porter was the first to speak, “you wouldn’t happen to be related to General Thomas Barnes, would you?”

CHAPTER THREE

“What do you mean she’s not here?” the general had not left his own post to speak to his daughter just to discover she had left on some mission.

The colonel knew it was going to get worse before it got better, “She flew a special forces team across the border.”

Barnes looked at the Air Force officer over the top of his glasses, “My daughter is in Pakistan?”

Colonel Olson stood a little taller, “My experienced and capable pilot is in Pakistan, Sir. She volunteered for the mission.”

The general was not appeased, “When was this?”

“Early this morning, Sir.”

“It’s nearly nineteen hundred,” the older man looked at his watch. “Why isn’t she back?”

The colonel refused to wince, refused to stand back, “She went down. “

The general’s face went white, “She went down?”

“She radioed her location just before the crash, but we have been unable to make contact since then.”

“Are the men moving?”

“We’ve picked up the signal on eleven of the twelve, sir.”

“And?” the general sat down heavily.

“Six of them haven’t moved at all. The other five moved several hours ago, but they’ve been sitting still for a while now.”

“And they haven’t made contact?”

The colonel shook his head, “I assume they will when it’s safe.”

“If they’re able,” the general croaked out.

The colonel had to offer the man some hope, “Captain Barnes managed to control the chopper for twenty miles after they were hit. She spoke with us as she was going down to find the best location to put the craft down. ”

“Then why,” the general rose again, “are there at least six men who are not moving?”

Olson knew he was going to have to tell the General the rest of the story.

“We lost the signal on the six about two hours after the crash.”

“They destroyed their own GPS?”

Olson breathed deeply, “Not likely.”

“Are you sending someone in to pick up those who are remaining?”

“We’re sending a Pave out in the morning.”

“To the current GPS or the Chinook?”

“There’s only one hundred yards difference, Sir.”

General Barnes, “I want to speak to the pilot.”

The colonel frowned, “Sir, I must respectfully – ”

The general frowned, “Don’t cause more trouble for yourself, Olson.”

Colonel Olson sighed and turned to his lieutenant, “Get Hanes.”

Olson couldn’t keep the general from haranguing the pilot, but he made copious notes on the incident.

General Barnes was also present to watch Hanes take off in the Pave the following morning. Colonel Olson wondered if the Army officer had slept at all the previous night but had better sense than to ask. He also had better sense than to mention that four of the five working trackers had moved during the night.

“Hey, Barnes,” DeWitt was sitting by the entrance of the cave, “what does that look like to you?”

Barnes crawled to the mouth, “It’s a Pave.”

“Ours?”

She pulled out her binoculars, “It appears to be, but I wouldn’t feel too good about betting my life on it.”

The chopper landed gently next to the Chinook. The larger aircraft was still smoking.

“It’s Hanes,” Barnes turned toward DeWitt, “I’m going to go get him.”

DeWitt smiled, “Don’t forget to come back for me.”

She grinned, “I wouldn’t think of it. You owe me twenty bucks,” she pointed to the cards.

DeWitt watched her move quickly down the bluff. He was impressed with how swiftly she moved across the field. Her fellow pilot must have seen her coming because he and his co-pilot glanced across the field, a new awareness of the danger setting in because of her low crawl.

He could see her talking to them and gesturing with her head in his direction.  DeWitt was no dummy. He knew they were not yet safe. He gathered what he could and made his way out of the cave and down the hill.

He reached the bottom, but still saw no sign that the others were on their way to him. They were moving between the Chinook and the Pave, but he couldn’t tell what they were doing.

Grinding his teeth against the pain, DeWitt began pulling himself across the field.

He had reached the half-way point by the time Barnes and another soldier got to him.

“You’re an idiot, DeWitt,” she helped him roll to his back and fastened a drag strap to him.

DeWitt groaned.

“Hanes, this is DeWitt. DeWitt, Major Hanes.”

DeWitt grunted, “Hanes.”

The two dragged DeWitt back to the chopper and loaded him in the belly. He looked around himself.

“You got my team,” he choked on the last word.

Barnes sat next to him, “Reed covered them all in tarps, hoping the fire would leave them alone. They’re charred, but we’re bringing them home.”

DeWitt nodded, unable to say much, “Thanks.”

Barnes understood.

The chopper lifted off moments later, and shortly after, they were greeted by the sound of an explosion behind them.

Barnes waved a hand of dismissal at DeWitt’s look of alarm, “They put a charge in the chopper. Nobody bothered it overnight, but we want to make sure they can’t find anything worth their time now.”

“I never thought I’d feel so safe in Afghanistan,” DeWitt remarked as his gurney was being carried to the medical tent.

Barnes squeezed his good leg, “It’s been an honor to serve with you, Sergeant DeWitt.”

DeWitt grasped her hand, “The honor is mine, Captain.”

The medics entered the tent with him.

“Captain,” a voice boomed from behind the woman. She closed her eyes momentarily before turning.

“General,” the tall woman saluted and spoke respectfully, “I was under the impression you were at Kandahar.”

“I was,” he shot back, “but I had some details I thought I ought to attend in person.”

She didn’t comment.

His shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch, “Are you okay?”

She nodded, “I’m fine, Dad,” her whispered words didn’t carry far, but he could hear them.

“Glad you made it back safely,” he was standing up straight again.

“Will you be here long?”

“Just tonight. I’m due in Washington on Thursday.”

She nodded, having assumed as much.

“I would prefer it if you avoided the special forces.”

“I know, Sir.”

“But you refuse to agree.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He scowled but didn’t press.

“They certainly do not care to have a woman getting in their way.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“But they treated me fine.”

He turned to survey the airfield, “I’ve met Teague. Good soldier.”

Anna winced, “He was killed in the landing.”

The general was silent a moment.

“It was my fault, Dad. I could have landed more gently if I hadn’t been so intent on getting away from the area.”

“You can’t do that, Annie,” he didn’t look at her. “You don’t know who would have been waiting for you if you had put it down sooner. You managed to get most of the people out of there alive. Colonel Olson told me about the damage. You were lucky to get it that far.”

She nodded, “I’d like to check on DeWitt before I go for debriefing.”

“Don’t get involved with a Green Beret, Captain.”

She laughed as she saluted, “He’s happily married, Sir, and I’m not planning on getting involved with anyone.”

DeWitt was in surgery, so she went to find her commanding officer. By the time she was finished, so was DeWitt.

“I see you shaved,” she commented on his clean face.

“I figured Reed was going to make us do it before going stateside anyway.”

“Do you guys always wear beards while out in the field?”

He shrugged, “May as well. There’s no brass to tell us not to and no girls to impress.”

Anna laughed, “And those tan lines are so impressive.”

DeWitt admitted that was a downside.

“Have you heard anything about your team?”

“Major Price came in and said he heard from them briefly.”

“Where are they?”

“Sitting right now. They’ll move out again in another hour or so.”

She grimaced, “Sounds fun.”

“It’s not so bad. You’ve gotta know what your aim is.”

“And what’s that?”

“Stop the bad guys before they spot you.”

CHAPTER FOUR

The plan to move out was thwarted. The team was, instead, debating what to do with a group of young men that had inadvertently discovered the team.

The six kids were huddled in against a pile of rocks. Porter stood, impatiently waiting for the order to shoot them.

“They’re just kids,” Chung argued in English, pointing to the skinniest one. “He looks like a second grader.”

The kid was older than that by a few years, but Slater understood what Chung was saying.

Garret spoke in Pasto to the biggest kid, asking what they were doing out there.

The boy answered rapidly.

Garret translated for those who didn’t speak Pashto, “They say they’re going to the village on the other side of the mountain to begin school.”

“School,” Porter snorted. “That’s what they call their indoctrination sessions, where they teach the kids to kill American soldiers.”

Slater knew there was little chance of changing Porter’s view on the subject. He had tried to demonstrate compassion to the locals he had encountered, but most of the team had a more violent reaction.

“What if we tie them up and leave them here?” Turner suggested.

Chung refuted that idea, “Leaving them to die of thirst and exposure is worse than killing them with a gun.”

Slater agreed. He thought a moment before turning to the boys.

“We don’t want to shoot you,” he explained in Pashto, “but if we let you go, you’ll run and tell someone we are here.”

The boys denied it vehemently. Slater was not going to risk it. The village was less than half a mile away, and he didn’t know what kinds of vehicles were available to the people there.

Slater shook his head, “I don’t believe you. We could tie you up instead.”

The boys became excited at the idea.

“But you will die of thirst and from the sun.”

The youngest child began to cry.

“No,” the oldest one disagreed, “we will not die. My uncle was to follow us tomorrow morning. He will find us.”

Slater looked at Chung who nodded his agreement. Porter shrugged; Turner pulled some ropes from his bag.

Garret pulled a water bottle from his pack, “This is all I can give you. You must drink it slowly and share.”

The boys nodded somberly.

Turner frisked the boys for sharp objects and found two knives among them.

Slater held them up, “I am going to put these out in the grass over there, so you can look for them after the uncle arrives.”

The oldest boy nodded.

Turner tied the boys hands in front of them and bound them to their chests. He then tied their feet before tying all the boys together.

Slater put the bottle in the hands of one of the boys, “Don’t drop this.”

He led the men off in the wrong direction.

“Chief,” Chung pointed out after they had travelled half a mile, “do you have a plan?”

Slater stopped, “I need a new route – one that doesn’t involve going near those boys.”

Porter laughed, “You afraid they’re going to tell the uncle? We’ll have Hanbali tonight.”

Slater smirked, “The kid lied. When we first caught them, I heard him tell the others not to worry because his uncle would be following within an hour.”

Porter made a growling noise and spat an epithet.

“They were just trying to stay alive, Porter,” he reminded the man.

Chung pointed down a different path, “This should get us there, but our little field trip has cost us time. We need to pick up the pace.”

The men arrived at the interception point and sat down for the wait.

“Porter,” Slater commanded as he checked his rifle, “see if you can get in touch with Price. I’d like an ETA on that convoy.”

Porter was already setting up his equipment.

He turned to the man next to him, “How’s the arm, Chung?”

“Hurts, but not like it did.”

Slater glanced around at the men, “Garret and Turner, take the first watch. Hall look at Chung’s arm.”

“Hall and Porter, come relieve Turner and Garret after you get some food.”

The men didn’t have to ask what Slater would be doing. They knew he would stand guard until all his men had eaten.

“You should look at Reed’s side again,” Chung spoke softly as Hall unwrapped the injured arm.

Hall snorted, “You think?”

Porter grinned from his position, “Afraid to ask him to drop his pants again?”

“I’m afraid to even talk to him again,” Hall lowered his voice. “He does not want to be leading this thing.”

Chung shook his head, “I wouldn’t either.”

Porter scratched at his beard, “You know command told us to pull out.”

“That’s a pile of garbage,” Hall spat at him. “This is one mission we aren’t letting go unfinished.”

Nobody was confused about Hall’s reasoning. To give up now would be to make their friends’ deaths meaningless.

Porter made contact with command, ate quickly, and then went to advise Slater on the target’s position.

“Has everybody eaten?” Slater got down the welfare of his men as soon as he received the information.

“Garret and Turner are eating right now.”

“How’s Chung’s arm?”

Porter shrugged, “Still broken.”

Slater rolled his eyes without looking away from the road.

Porter knew the conversation was over, so he took up the spot Turner had vacated.

Slater found some time to down an MRE, but he was soon back at his post. He knew the target was not due for a few hours, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

The road was not well travelled, so the men didn’t have to work hard at staying hidden.

Porter made contact with Major Price an hour before the cars were estimated to arrive. The colonel was blunt in his assessment of the situation, but he left the decision up to the team. Slater knew he owed it to his men to address the situation with them.

“There were three vehicles when last spotted,” Slater informed his squad of the situation. “We aren’t sure how many men or which vehicle Hanbali is in. Command has again suggested we stand down.”

Nobody responded.

“I’m not leading you guys into this without complete agreement.”

Garret pointed to the road, “We’re already in position, Chief.”

“I’m aware of that, Garret, but this whole thing could go south fast.”

To a man, every jaw clenched in determination.

“If we put it off,” Turner had his hands shoved in his pockets, “we’ll never catch up with Hanbali. They’re probably heading up to Kashmir next.”

Slater looked down at his watch, “It’s twenty-three hundred. Assuming command was right about where they were last spotted, they should be here within the hour. Check your goggles, find your positions, and follow the plan.”

Without a doubt, Porter was the best shot.  In keeping with the other surprises of this mission, there was a change in the situation. There were only two cars.

Porter watched them coming toward the group, but didn’t see a third vehicle.

He looked to Slater. That man nodded. Porter took the shot and blew out the rear tire on the lead car. Due to the silencer on the weapon, the car’s occupants were unaware of the true danger accompanying their vehicular damage.

The car careened across the road before screeching to a halt. The second vehicle – a Range Rover – slowed down and parked before its leader.

The lack of moon was advantageous to the team. The members of the Taliban could not see the soldiers just ten feet from them, rifles at the ready. The front seat passenger got out of the disabled car first.

Slater could hear him cursing in Pashto.

The Afghani dug in the trunk. Someone on the other side of the road made a noise, and he snapped around, looking for the threat.

A second man climbed out of the front car. They were soon joined by two men from the second car.

The backseat passengers from the second car remained where they were, but appeared to be craning their necks to see what was happening.

Slater caught sight of Hanbali. He raised a fist to his men and held up two fingers. He saw his men respond in kind.

The tire was well on its way to being changed, but the team had not yet a straight shot to get rid of the man sitting in the seat with the hostage.

Slater wanted to lure the man from his seat, but he was afraid anything he did would wind up scaring the man into injuring the hostage – or worse.

Only two of the men who were outside were holding guns. Not too bright.

Slater pulled a smoke grenade from his pocket and pulled the pin. Crouching low, he tossed it under the second vehicle.

If the situation hadn’t been so serious, it would have been funny to watch the rear passengers gagging and jumping from the car.

The driver shouted at them to get back in, but the man argued something was wrong and he couldn’t breathe with all the smoke.

Four of the special forces soldiers took aim and shot. Slater, being the closest, darted to Hanbali, dragging the fighting hostage to the ground while Porter dropped the remaining Taliban member. The slaughter was over in less than two minutes. The Afghanis did not have time to draw their guns.

Turner and Porter began dragging the corpses to a nearby ravine. Hall and Chung searched the lead vehicle before lighting it on fire.

Slater pushed Hanbali into the backseat of the rear vehicle.

“Stay,” he ordered and then repeated it in Pashto in case the message had not been clear the first time.

“You are American,” it wasn’t a question, so Slater didn’t bother answering it.

His men were returning from disposing of the bodies, “Get in. Hall, you drive.”

Garret opened the hatch to the back of the Rover and climbed in, facing rearward .

“Hall always gets to drive.”

Slater slid in next to Hall, “That’s because you drive like an old woman.”

Porter and Turner pressed in on either side of Hanbali while Cho climbed in with Garret and shut the hatch.

“Go,” Slater ordered before all the doors were even closed, “I don’t know where that third vehicle is, and I’m not too keen on finding out.”

“Man,” Garret had his knees to his chest, “it smells like Chung’s socks in here.”

Hall laughed as he sped along the road.

Porter opened a window, “Reed, you gotta go easy on those grenades. How many did you launch?

“How much fuel you got in the tank?” Slater ignored Porter’s question.

“Three quarters of a tank. That outta get us into Ghori.”

“Tell me again, Chung,” Porter grunted as he shifted his equipment around, “why are we going into India if what we really want is to get back to Afghanistan?”

“We’re getting picked up there.”

“Jeez, Hall. You going off-roading?”

“Shut it, Porter,” Hall shot back. “The last time you drove, we rolled.”

“Be thankful it’s not a Civic,” Chung tried to shift his shoulders.

Slater tried to look over his shoulder at Hanbali, but had to settle for shouting over his shoulder.

“Butrus Hanbali,” he thought it was high time he introduced himself, “I’m Captain Slater Reed of the United States Army. We’re taking you back to Afghanistan.”

“I deduced that,” came the silky voice with just a hint of accent. “But I only am known as Butrus to those who are unaware that I am a woman.”