Recovery: V Plague Book 8 (28 page)

We followed
the tracks for over an hour, pushing as fast as we could.  Frequently we moved
back into the trees as the shoreline would suddenly rise and had forced Rachel
to find an easier path.  Staying in her tracks I was heartened to see that even
despite the heavy snow the imprints appeared sharper and better defined.  That
meant they were fresher and we were gaining on her.

I considered
taking the suppressor off my rifle and firing some shots in the air to let her
know I was in the area, but was uncertain how she would react.  She might turn
back and come towards the sound, or it might frighten her and send her off in a
new direction even faster than she was already moving.

The wolves
were definitely tracking her and by now I had identified at least five separate
sets of tracks.  Why were they waiting to attack and bring her down?  Had she
succeeded in scaring them enough that they weren’t willing to charge in while
she was up and moving?  Had her killing the wolf in the camp instilled some
fear in them? 

We moved for
another half an hour, the tracks steadily becoming crisper in appearance then
Dog came to an abrupt stop.  His head was down below his shoulders as he stared
through the thick underbrush, his tail straight out with the tip slightly
elevated.  I froze, searching the forest ahead as I noted the faint sound of Katie
stepping next to me.

I didn’t see
anything.  Taking a closer look at Dog I tried to follow the direction his eyes
were locked on but still couldn’t see whatever had him on guard.  Slowly
lifting the rifle I pulled it tight to my shoulder and looked through the
scope.  It took me several long seconds then with the help of the magnification
I spotted them.

Two grey
wolves, each about the size of Dog and less than fifty yards away.  They were
standing next to a large, moss and snow covered boulder.  A thick tree trunk
was between them and us, little blots of snow stuck to the vertical surface. 
Their mottled fur blended so well with the greys, greens, blacks and whites of
the environment that they were all but invisible.

The wind was
in our face so they hadn’t scented us as we approached.  Both of them were
intently watching something in the direction of the shoreline to our front, so
for the moment we were undetected.  I was grateful that Dog hadn’t growled and
given us away, or worse, charged forward to fight as soon as he saw them.

I’ve never
been one to derive pleasure from killing an animal for sport.  I learned to
shoot by hunting coyotes but there was a purpose to that.  If the packs weren’t
kept under control they’d run out of food in the wild and come looking for a
meal at the ranches in the area.  Chickens, lambs, calves, goats, even dogs
would get taken.  When that happened, many of the ranchers were so poor they
would have to depend on the kindness of neighbors, or a handout from the state,
to even put food on their table.  No.  There had been no sport in shooting the
coyotes.

I had no
animosity towards the wolves, and in fact would have preferred to leave them
unmolested.  I’m neither unaware nor insensitive to the part they play in
nature.  But when they decide to hunt someone I care about I have no hesitation
to take the fight to them.

Sighted in
on the closest animal I pulled the trigger and it dropped dead without a sound
when the round pierced its head.  The second one jerked away from where the
first one fell, snapping its body around to see what happened.  I fired as it
was in motion and the intended head shot missed, the bullet knocking a chunk
out of the rock beyond it.  It turned and fled, vanishing instantly into the
forest. 

Hopefully
I’d put the fear of God into it and it would keep running for a while.  But I
didn’t count on it.  Moving forward, I paused long enough for Dog to sniff over
the one I’d shot.  Considering how the pair had been acting when we came upon
them I thought we were getting close to Rachel.  I was reaching down to tap Dog
to get us moving again when two shots rang out, and they sounded close.

Rachel was
tense, alert to every tiny sound in the forest when she started walking.  But
as she kept moving and there was no sign of the wolves she began to relax. 
Slightly.  Frequently turning to check behind her, she was relieved to not see
a snarling beast ready to leap every time she looked.

She had
heard a noise that she thought sounded like a helicopter, but it faded away
without her being able to tell.  Perhaps it had been distant thunder?  Could it
thunder during a snowstorm?  She didn’t know and when the noise didn’t come
back she didn’t spend any more time thinking about it.

The path
along the shore was easy walking, but there were several places where she had
to move into the forest to bypass difficult terrain that came up to the water’s
edge.  She was cold, shivering, her hands feeling more like two blocks of ice swinging
at the ends of her arms.  She gripped the two pistols tighter every time she
had to move back under the trees and leave what she perceived as the safety of
the lakeshore.

But despite
her fears, she didn’t see the wolves, nor did she hear any of their haunting
voices.  Maybe they only howled at night?  It didn’t matter.  As far as she
could tell they had decided to leave her alone.  Maybe she really had scared
them off with all the shots she’d fired.

Continuing
on, she saw a large uprising of the shoreline ahead.  The side facing her was
steep and went thirty or forty feet up.  The crest was covered with a thick
stand of trees.  The natural barricade was narrow and she could see a way
around the back, only a few yards in from the water.

Circling,
she hugged the hillock with her left side as she moved, failing to notice that
the ground a couple of yards to her right was beginning to rise.  She came to a
stop when she realized she had walked into a natural choke point.  On either
side of her the ground rose up steeply, boxing her in so she could only go
forward or back.

To the front
she could see the ground open up in another thirty or forty yards and took a
step to continue, wanting to pass through as quickly as possible.  She froze
when the large wolf with the burns from the flare gun walked into view at the
far end of the cut in the terrain, blocking her progress.  It stopped, facing
her, legs spread as it growled and lowered its head.

Pistol
raised, Rachel glanced over her shoulder.  Her knees went weak when she saw
three more wolves, all smaller, blocking her retreat.  They had trapped her
neatly.  Had probably been stalking her since she left the camp, waiting for
the right spot.  And she’d walked right into it.

None of them
charged immediately, which was a surprise.  Maybe they were more frightened of
her than she thought.  Not scared enough to leave her alone, but there was
seemingly enough fear that they were exercising extreme caution. 

Doubting she
had more than a few moments before one of them grew bold enough to attack,
Rachel made the only decision she could.  She aimed and fired a pistol round at
the large wolf she’d come to think of as the pack leader.  The animal shied
away from the gunshot and jumped back several feet.

Spinning,
Rachel fired her last round at the three smaller wolves and ran at them,
screaming.  The bullet struck the one on her left in the front leg, shattering
the limb as the impact knocked it back and caused the animal to stumble into
the one next to it.  Dropping the pistol as she ran, Rachel transferred the
flare gun to her right hand, raising it to fire.

The injured
wolf was back on three of its feet, holding its bleeding leg off the ground as
it began backing up.  The other two moved with it, a moment later all of them breaking
and running.  Rachel wanted to shout in triumph but her toe caught on an
exposed tree root that was masked by the snow and fell headlong to the ground. 
The flare gun flew out of her hand and tumbled a few feet before disappearing
into a small snow bank.

Frantically
twisting onto her back, Rachel looked for the alpha wolf, unable to breathe
when she saw it begin a charge directly at her.  It remembered the pain from
their first meeting and had held back until she had fallen to the ground.  It
was no more than a hundred feet away, lips skinned back to expose long fangs as
it ran at her.

Scrambling
on her back, Rachel plunged her hand into the snow where the flare gun had
vanished without taking her eyes off the swiftly closing predator.  Feeling the
round, steel barrel she grasped it and pulled it to her, looking up as the
beast accelerated.

I broke into
a sprint when I heard the shots.  They were close, the reports coming sharp
even with the heavy snow falling and damping every sound.  Dog raced ahead of
me and I could hear Katie’s steps as she stayed close behind.  Now I heard a
woman’s voice screaming and that lent wings to Dog’s feet.  He lunged ahead and
I lost sight of him.

Bursting
through a thicket of young trees that were covered with leaves quivering in the
frigid wind, I saw Rachel on the ground.  She was seated with legs splayed out
in front of her, trying to bring what looked like a flare gun to bear. 
Movement in the direction she was aiming caught my attention and I whipped my
rifle up when I saw a huge wolf charging directly at her.

Dog had
picked up Rachel’s scent when he’d started running towards the gunshots.  He’d
also smelled the spoor of the wolf, not recognizing the specific animal but
knowing he was sensing danger.  He leapt forward, speeding through the heavy
brush, pushing through as if it wasn’t there.

He raced
past Rachel to meet the larger beast.  She was tightening her finger on the
flare gun’s trigger but at the last instant lifted the muzzle when Dog flashed
past.  The gun popped, a red trail rocketing high into the sky and out over the
lake.  As the shell exploded in a brilliant red blossom of fire, Dog and the
wolf collided only a few yards from where she sat in the snow.

The fight
was ferocious, the two animals rolling across the ground, loud snarls
punctuating each one’s attempt to kill the other.  Dog was big, fast and
strong, an experienced fighter, but the wolf was larger and stronger.  He
hadn’t risen to be a pack leader without being a good fighter and only Dog’s
greater speed prevented a quick ending to the battle.

I hadn’t
been able to fire even a single shot as Dog streaked into the fray.  As he impacted
the wolf I ripped the two rifles and single grenade launcher over my head and
let them fall to the ground.  Charging, I drew the Kukri as I covered the open
ground to where Rachel was scrabbling away from the fight.

The wolf
would kill Dog.  I had little doubt of that.  I’d gotten a good look at the
beast before Dog attacked and it was huge, probably weighing nearly as much as
me.  And this was probably the most foolish thing I’d ever done, but I wasn’t going
to stand back and watch Dog die.

Pounding
past Rachel, I launched myself at the whirling combatants just as Dog yelped in
pain.  Slamming into them I succeeded in knocking them apart.  Dog rolled then
sprang to his feet to stand next to me, snarling.  He held his left front leg
off the ground, blood pouring off his paw onto the snow.  The wolf snapped to
his feet and I could see the damage Dog had done to his face.  He crouched
slightly, preparing to leap, Dog starting to move in front of me to meet him, his
snarl the thing of nightmares.

The wolf
staggered, blood appearing on its coat in several spots.  Then most of its head
exploded and the corpse flopped to the ground.  I was breathing like a
locomotive, thinking Dog and I were both about to die.  Blood pounded in my
ears and it was a moment before I looked around to see Katie lowering her
rifle.  I hadn’t even heard the suppressed shots.

Dog whined
and I turned to him.  He had been chewed up pretty badly.  Deep lacerations in
his face and neck were bleeding freely.  His right leg was also torn open but I
was most worried about his left, which he held off the ground.  Gently rubbing
his head in a spot that wasn’t injured, I carefully took it in my hand.

A large
chunk of meat had been bitten out of the muscle, but my fear that the bone had
been broken was unfounded.  I took a moment to check him over, finding more
lacerations on his flanks from the wolf’s claws, but none of his injuries were
immediately life threatening.

Standing, I
turned in time for Rachel to run into me and wrap her arms around my neck.  She
was shaking so hard I was concerned about her, but she had me in a headlock and
wasn’t letting go.  A moment later the sobs began, racking her entire body as
she cried.  I circled my arms around her waist and looked at Katie. 

I wasn’t
sure what I expected to see in my wife’s eyes.  Perhaps anger, or jealousy, or
even pain.  But I saw none of that.  What was there reinforced my love for
her.  It was a mixture of relief and profound happiness.  She was smiling from
ear to ear and I grinned back at her.

It took
several minutes to calm Rachel and peel her off of me.  It was several more
before the tears stopped and she could talk without a hitch in her voice.

“How?”  She
asked as I tended to Dog with the first aid supplies that were in the survival
pouch on Rachel’s back.

“It’s a very
long story.  First things first.  I brought you some warm clothes.”  Katie had
dropped her pack to the ground and was pulling out the extra cold weather gear
she had brought.

  Rachel was
nearly frozen and needed help to untie the rope holding the folded canopy to
her body.  Katie supported her, unzipping and assisting her out of the flight
suit then removing the clothing she had on beneath before working the synthetic
long underwear over her feet.  They kept layering until Rachel was fully
dressed in a white snowsuit that matched ours.

“I’ve got
one last present for you,” Katie said, digging through the pack.  “I knew he’d
make fun of me so I only got a pair for me and another for you.”

Katie handed
over a pack of small batteries, which Rachel took with a thoroughly confused
look on her face.  A moment later a pair of electric hunting socks were proudly
displayed and Rachel pulled them on while Katie installed the batteries.

Smiling, I
shook my head and held my face close to Dog’s.  I wished I had a great big soup
bone to reward him with, or even a small little doggie treat for that matter. 
I settled for opening the MRE in Rachel’s pouch and giving half to Dog.  Rachel
got the other half while Katie and I packed up. 

With Dog
lame it was going to be a long walk back to the Jeep.  I handed Rachel the
extra rifle I’d brought for her, and began adjusting the sling on the grenade
launcher for Katie.  I was planning to carry Dog across my shoulders and needed
to shed some weapons.  I’d still have my rifle and a vest full of magazines.

Working on
the sling, I paused when the sound reached my ears.  A heavy rotor.  The
helicopter again, only this time it quickly grew louder as it approached.

  The flare
Rachel had fired.  Goddamn it!  I had been so wrapped up in everything that was
happening I had forgotten about the helo and just how far away that flare would
have been visible.  And I had no doubt it would have tripped some thermal
alarms as well.

“Into the
trees!”  I shouted, snatching my weapons off the ground and making a herding
motion with my arms.

But I was
too late.  The sound of the rotor suddenly grew dramatically in volume and I
recognized the signature of a Russian Mi-24 HIND before I turned and saw it
roaring towards us over the lake.  There was no way they hadn’t already seen us
and I abandoned the idea of the forest for the cover of the terrain where the
wolves had trapped Rachel.

We all
dashed in, pressing our backs against solid rock.  A few seconds later the
ground under our feet vibrated as the HIND came into a hover.  Peeking through
tree roots I could see it hanging a hundred feet over the water, about fifty
yards off shore.  The huge rotor was churning up spray as it slipped sideways,
trying to see into our hiding place.

Turning
back, I met Katie and Rachel’s eyes as I opened the grenade launcher and traded
the fragmentation grenades for high explosive.  Closing the cylinder, I put a
hand on Katie’s face, kissed her, then stepped around the edge of the rock and
lifted the weapon.

HINDs are
tough, but they aren’t impregnable.  Hit them in the right spots with HE
grenades and they will go down.  Any helicopter is most vulnerable at its main
rotor hub and its tail rotor.  These two spots can only be hardened so much and
still allow the aircraft to fly.

As I aimed,
the HIND’s nose tilted up as the pilot recognized the danger and moved to place
the armored belly of the helo directly towards me.  I pulled the trigger twice,
adjusted and fired two more times, adjusted again and fired the final two
rounds.

I watched as
one after another the grenades completely missed the helicopter as it juked up
and down, the pilot frantically trying to open some distance.  But the fifth
grenade detonated against the undercarriage, shearing off a chunk of armor and
part of the landing gear.

The HIND
changed attitude as a result of the force of the explosion, tail coming up and
spinning directly into the path of my last grenade.  It disappeared in a cloud
of smoke when the shell detonated, the tail rotor shearing off and slicing into
the lake with enough force to send a plume of water higher into the air than
the crippled helo.

Without a
tail rotor there’s nothing to counteract the twisting force generated by the
rotor and the HIND began to spin around the axis of the main rotor hub.  It
lost altitude quickly, spinning faster and crashing into the lake a few yards
off shore.

I had leapt
behind cover as the machine started to go out of control, poking my head back
around as it came to rest in the water.  While I watched I reloaded the
launcher with fragmentation grenades so I was ready when the Russians came
boiling out of the downed HIND.  Katie and Rachel moved to the far end of the
cut, aiming their rifles at the smoking helo from amongst a tumble of large
rocks.

The muzzle
of the launcher was on target.  Ready.  Waiting for the troop compartment door
to open.  I wasn’t fucking around or waiting to give them a chance.  As soon as
that door opened a grenade was going through it.

I could see
movement inside the cockpit so I knew that at least one of the pilots had
survived the crash.  Returning my attention to the door on the side of the
aircraft I tightened my finger on the trigger as it began to move.  But it only
swung open a foot before sticking.  Damage from the crash, no doubt.

A moment
later someone began pounding on the door from the inside, slowly widening the
opening.  Double-checking my aim, I made sure the launcher was firm against my
shoulder and wouldn’t wobble.  Finally the door swung open with a protest of
warped metal and I squeezed the trigger.