V Plague (Book 11): Merciless (26 page)

We moved out of the security building where the Russians had been slaughtered.  Night had fallen while we were underground.  It was cold, but nothing like what I’d endured on Ellesmere Island. 

My head was still pounding and I could feel that I wasn’t as steady on my feet as normal.  Definitely concussion symptoms from being too close to the blast of two grenades.  But there wasn’t anything I could do about it other than tough it out.  And make the concession of having Long take point as we headed across a large, open parking area.

We were headed for the flight line to see if the Russian helicopters were still on the ground.  Maybe they’d left.  I was sure the Spetsnaz at ground level had reported over a radio that they were under attack by infected.  When the pilots lost comms with them, they would assume the worst.

That left the men underground, but they would have been out of contact.  The low powered, tactical radios the Russian operators would have been using weren’t capable of reaching out from beneath the surface.  Between the concrete structure of the facility and the millions of tons of earth it was buried beneath, they would have dropped off the net as soon as they began descending.

So the question was, how long would the pilots wait?  There had almost certainly been a time specified.  That’s just how things are done, whether you’re Russian or American.  Valuable pilots and expensive aircraft aren’t left sitting in a hostile environment indefinitely, especially when there’s a loss of communication with the men on the ground.

Part of me hoped that time had already arrived and the Hinds were gone.  Not that I wasn’t interested in further bloodying the Russian’s nose by destroying five of their front line helicopters, but I wasn’t sure how we were going to pull that off.  Not without finding an armory that held heavier weapons than what we had.

The Air Force would have one.  After all, they have to defend airfields that are set up in war zones.  The problem was, I had no idea where to start looking, and Offutt was a damn big base.

I nearly ran into Long’s back when I didn’t realize he’d called a halt.  Pissed at myself for not paying attention, I looked around when someone gripped my upper arm.  It was Rachel, steadying me.  With her hand holding on, I realized I was swaying.  She gestured at Long and I looked at him, then turned to see what he was pointing at.

In the distance, moonlight glinted off a chain link fence.  Beyond was row upon row of Humvees silhouetted in the dark.  At the moment, I didn’t see how they helped us.  Looking at Long, I shrugged my shoulders.

“Look at the second row from the front,” he mumbled close to my ear.  “About a third of the way down.  See the outline?”

I looked where he indicated, trying to get my eyes to focus.  After a moment, they did and I saw what caught his interest.  The vehicles were armed, the shape of heavy machine guns clear to see.  Smiling, I motioned towards the vehicle park and he lead the way.

We didn’t encounter any infected as we moved, which was a good thing.  With only one suppressed rifle, we’d have been forced to make a lot of noise if attacked by even a small group.  Our luck held and we reached the fence without incident.  I was feeling better, the cold air seeming to clear my head. 

The fence was double reinforced chain link.  Twelve feet tall, but no coils of razor wire on top.  Long moved close to me so he could speak in a low voice that wouldn’t carry more than a few feet.

“Can you climb?”

“I’m good to go,” I answered, hoping I really was.  “But before we get too excited, you really think there’s going to be ammo in any of those vehicles?  You know as well as I do the Army would never let that happen.  No reason to think the Air Force is going to allow a fully armed vehicle to sit in storage.”

“We can always hope for lazy, sir,” he grinned, then turned serious.  “I had the same thought.  Johnson’s going to take a look.  No reason for all of us to go until we verify they’re ready to rumble.”

I nodded, glad when the top of my head didn’t try to blow off from the movement.  I really was feeling better. 

As Johnson scampered up the fence, Rachel and I turned to keep watch on the open ground behind us.  Long would keep eyes on Johnson to provide an early warning if he saw a threat the other man didn’t.

“We should cut our losses, find a fuel truck and go,” Rachel said a few moments later.  “What do we gain by blowing up a few helicopters and killing a handful of pilots?”

I can’t say I didn’t agree with her, at least partially.  But, as usual for me, when I decide on a course of action it takes a lot to change my mind.  Mostly, this has served me well.  I call it determination.  Katie calls it stick up my ass, bull-headed stubbornness.  We’re probably both right. 

“Don’t see a way to do that,” I said after a moment’s thought.  “Any fuel truck we find is going to be too close to where those Hinds are sitting.  No way we can start one up and drive off without one of the pilots spotting us.  And they aren’t going to just sit there and watch our tail lights disappear over the horizon.”

Rachel was quiet for a moment before nodding her head.

“Vehicles are empty.  No ammo.”

Long reported after Johnson signaled to him.

“OK, pull him back,” I said.  “We’ll have to hunker down until the Russians leave.”

“He’s already heading deeper, sir.  Don’t know what he saw, but he’s checking something out.”

“You still have a visual?” I asked, without taking attention off my area of responsibility.

“Negative.  And comms are out.  Haven’t had a chance to change batteries in a while.”

That comment reminded me that I also had a radio Sergeant McCrary had given me.  I reached to the side of my head, but the earpiece wasn’t there.  Feeling around, I found the thin wire that led from the body of the unit, but the small bud was missing from the end.  Opening a pouch on my vest, I pulled the radio out and handed it to Long.

“Try mine,” I said.

He fumbled with it for a moment, changing ear pieces, then I could hear him mumbling.  Silence for a few seconds, then he spoke again.

“No go, sir.  Yours has juice, but Johnson’s must be dead, too.”

“OK.  We’re secure for the moment.  Maybe he’ll find some goodies.”

We went quiet after that, waiting for Johnson.  It had occurred to me that we might be wasting time.  The Russians could have already departed, and we had a clear shot at finding a truck and getting the hell out of there.  Then a bad thought hit me.

If the Russian pilots headed north when they took off, they’d pass right over the airport where the big Navy plane was sitting.  They couldn’t miss it.  Nor could they fail to see the Rangers and Canadians on perimeter security.  One missile and our ride out of here was toast, as well as a lot of people would die.  We needed to take out the enemy aircraft.

“He’s coming back, sir,” Long reported, relief clear in his voice.

Several long minutes later, Johnson’s voice sounded from the far side of the fence.  The area I was covering was large, and still clear, so I turned to face him to hear his report.

“Got a Hummer with a Mark 19,” Johnson smiled.  “Far side of the lot is an armory.  I opened the door and there’s plenty of ammo!”

I smiled back.  A Mark 19 is a 40mm machine gun grenade launcher.  Yes, it’s exactly what it sounds like.  A machine gun that fires grenades instead of bullets.  The grenades will penetrate about two inches of military grade armor, and the weapon can fire roughly forty rounds a minute.  It was more than capable of making Swiss cheese out of the Hinds.

“Sir?”  Long looked at me.

“Hell, yes,” I said.

We scaled the fence easily.  Once inside, Johnson lead the way down a long row of parked Hummers.  Most were up-armored and sported some sort of heavy machine gun.  All showed signs of heavy use.  The kind of use that only comes from service in a combat zone.  But they all appeared functional.

Johnson gently tapped the hood of one as we passed, and I glanced up to see the Mark 19’s covered muzzle.  The cover was a simple sleeve of weatherized canvas to protect the weapon from rain and dirt while it was in storage.  It would take about ten seconds to remove it.

Another couple of hundred yards and we came to a squat, concrete building.  A large, steel door stood open.  Even though he’d just been inside, Johnson carefully approached and cleared the building before waving us in. 

To the left of the door were two pallets, loaded with cases of ammo belts for the Mark 19.  Each can weighs close to fifty pounds, and Long, Johnson and I grabbed two, one in each hand.  Rachel tried to copy us, but had to settle for only carrying one at a time.  Moving as fast as we could, we loaded the first seven into the Humvee, then made a second trip.

Fourteen cases loaded, Johnson ran across the large lot to open the gate.  While he was doing this, I climbed aboard the Hummer and into the gunner’s position.  Removing the weather cover, I hoisted one of the ammo boxes into the bracket mounted on the side of the weapon.  Opening it, I grabbed the end of the linked ammo belt and loaded the first round. 

While I did this, Long and Rachel moved the vehicles that were blocking us in.  By the time Johnson returned, they had a narrow path open and I had the weapon charged and ready to go.  Rachel climbed in back as the two Rangers got in front, Long behind the wheel.  A moment later the engine rattled to life and we started rolling.

Long kept our speed down as we drove across the lot.  With no lights showing, I was feeling good about our chances of moving into a location where I could engage the Hinds, unseen.  The trick here was going to be getting all of them while they were still on the ground.

The Mark 19 is a devastating weapon, firing a 40mm, high explosive round.  But it is absolutely worthless against an aircraft in flight.  If one of the Russians got in the air, we would be toast.

“How close you want, sir?”  Long shouted to be heard from within the Hummer’s cab.

“Close as you can,” I yelled back.

The grenades can easily reach 2,000 yards, but to hit anything at that distance with this weapon would be more luck than skill.  And I needed accuracy if I hoped to take out all five helos before one of the pilots could react and get in the air.

As we moved through the gate, Long turned left and accelerated.  I flexed my knees to absorb the motion as he didn’t bother to slow for a series of speed bumps.  Driving through another gate, he entered the flight line and idled to a stop in the shelter of a large hangar.

Johnson hopped out and ran to the corner, peering around in the direction where the Russian helicopters were sitting.  He stayed in place for most of a minute, then ran back and hopped up on the outside of the Hummer to talk to me without having to raise his voice.

“They’re still here,” he said.  “As we come around the corner, the first two are about 600 yards, then another hundred to the next pair.  The final one is beyond that.”

“Do I have a shot on any other than the first two?”

“Not a good one, no.  We’re going to have to advance as you shoot.”

I nodded and he jumped down and climbed into the front seat.  Lowering myself into the vehicle, I opened and arranged several cans of the ammo and told Rachel to be ready to hand me the end of a belt when I called for it.

“When we’re in the open, floor it,” I said to Long.  “Don’t slow down or stop unless I tell you.  One of those gets in the air, we’re fucked.”

“Copy that,” he said.

Getting myself situated behind the weapon, I double checked to make sure it was ready to go.  Satisfied, I shouted and Long hit the throttle.

34

The Hummer’s engine roared as we rounded the corner of the hangar.  Long held us tight against the large building.  A full moon was shining brightly and he was keeping us in the shadows.  Getting us as close to the targets as he could before we were noticed.

I held the weapon’s vertical hand grips tightly.  My head was ducked down so I could peer through the iron sights.  They’re designed for firing from a static position, with a blade that moves up and down to set the distance to target.  That meant they weren’t very effective in a moving vehicle that was rapidly closing that distance.  But it was better than just eyeballing it and hoping for the best.

We moved past the first hangar, into a well lit stretch of tarmac between it and the next massive structure.  Unless they were keeping watch with night vision, this was the first opportunity the Russians would have to spot us.  But there was no reaction from any of the aircraft that sat dark and silent.

Then we were in shadow again and our speed steadied out.  The cold wind made my eyes water, but it felt good on my face.  Selecting the closest Hind, I pulled and held the trigger.  Half a dozen rounds fired with heavy, thumping reports and I relaxed my finger.

Swinging a few degrees to the right, I sent six more rounds at the next helo.  As I finished firing them, the first six arrived.  My aim had been true, several, if not all, of the grenades impacting the aircraft with bright flashes.  An instant later it erupted into a ball of fire.  The second one followed quickly, detonating with another shattering explosion and brilliant, orange flames.

There was a whoop from within the vehicle and I looked for a shot on the next pair of Hinds.  I could just make them out on the far side of the fires, but not well enough to start expending ammo.

Long had the throttle to the floor and we were moving faster.  He steered well to the side of one of the burning aircraft and suddenly I had targets.  As I lined up on the nearest, I could see the rotors on two of them beginning to move.  Shit, these guys had reacted fast.

Firing another burst, I shifted and sent a longer string of grenades at the Hind sitting farthest away.  A moment later, the one closer to me exploded.

“Ammo!”

I shouted down into the vehicle, Rachel instantly slapping the end of a belt against my leg.  Grabbing it, I cursed when I saw all of my shots on the farther aircraft fall short.  Its rotor was spinning faster as I yanked the breech open and slapped in the fresh belt.  I still had to take it out as well as the other that was paired with the one I’d just destroyed.