Clear by Fire (27 page)

“Are we good?” he asked.

“Yeah, take point,” she replied.

Mason stepped off, keeping his eyes open for a way up into the foothills. According to the map, they had more than two kilometers to travel and not a lot of time to get there.

•  •  •

Kevin took a seat on the nylon bench and turned his rifle so that the muzzle was pointed at the floor. The utilitarian interior of the large helicopter wasn’t much to look at, but he’d been in enough Chinooks to know what to expect.

The crew chief checked the exposed hydraulic lines, which ran along the top of the troop compartment, as the gunners loaded their machine guns in preparation for takeoff.

After conducting his final preflight checks, the crew chief moved back to his position on the ramp. Kevin plugged his comms into the onboard radio. The operator watched the man take a seat behind the 240 B mounted to the ramp and snap himself into the helicopter with the thick bungee cord attached to his harness.

The dual-rotored helicopter lurched forward, and Kevin listened to the pilots contact the tower as they moved down the tarmac.

The flight across the border was short and Kevin could feel the “go pills” kick in when the Chinook was fifteen minutes out from the LZ. The amphetamines crept into his blood, filling him with renewed confidence, and by the time the pilot called the five-minute warning, he was ready to go.

The Chinook’s descent caused a slight queasiness in his stomach. The pilot kept the nose up while the gunners poked their heads out of the gun ports and monitored the descent.

Kevin checked his rifle and flipped his NODs down over his eyes before yanking the cable from the comms box. The adrenaline spike that came with every mission caused a familiar tingle in his stomach. It was go time, whether he was ready or not.

The crew chief stood at the ramp as the helo flared and dropped its rear wheels into the high grass of the LZ. By the time Kevin felt the wheels hit the ground, he was already moving toward the ramp. He ducked under the hot exhaust and passed through the blowing dust and grass as he cleared the ramp. Moving out to the six o’clock position, Kevin took a knee about ten yards from the spinning rotors and brought his rifle up.

Behind him the second Chinook came in as the lead helicopter leapt for the sky. He braced himself as the rotors beat the ground and leaned forward against his knee to keep from being pushed over. It took less than a minute to unload both birds and when he looked over his shoulder, he could see both teams arrayed in a tight 360-degree field of fire.

“Let’s move out,” the major said over the radio.

Rico took the point. The tritium dial of his compass glowed green in the darkness, and for a brief instant he could make out his friends’ profile before he snapped the case closed and headed out.

Kevin gave him room before forming his element into a wedge and stepping off. In the center of the two teams, the major was having trouble keeping track of his lead elements and he ordered everyone, “Turn on your IR strobes.” Kevin fumbled with the beacon, which was the size of a box of matches, and after turning it on, stuffed it into his battle shirt pocket.

The blinking lights were invisible to the naked eye, but through night vision, the team flickered like fireflies in the darkness. He imagined Rico grumbling up front as he looked over his shoulder. His teammate had spent most of his army career as a scout sniper and hated having the strobe giving away his position.

•  •  •

The terrain made it extremely difficult to make any real headway, and Mason was sweating through his shirt, despite having gone less than five hundred meters. His sling was already digging into his neck, and his calves burned from fighting against the ridgeline’s gravel-covered edges.

He should have heard the heavy Chinooks by now, and he began to worry that they were moving too slow. Taking a knee in the soft shale, he checked the GPS strapped to his wrist while Renee slipped up behind him.

“Are you lost?”

“No, but we should have heard their birds by now.”

“What do you think?” she asked.

Mason knew roughly where they were by the terrain features, but just to make sure, he pulled a small laminated map from his chest rig. He moved as close to the rock face as possible before using a small red light to conduct a map check.

“We are about a kilometer away,” he said, pointing to their position on the map. Mason had used the satellite images to mark a few
trails he’d seen, but it was hard to find them in the dark. “If we can find this trail, we should be able to make up some time.”

“It’s up to you.”

Mason forced himself to his feet and, after ensuring that Zeus was ready to move, stepped off. The rocky terrain dictated short, choppy steps, which slowed his pace and made his legs burn. Even though he was in excellent shape, the steep grades and thin air were sapping his energy. Sweat ran down his forehead and made the stitches itch, and he carefully wiped the sweat from his brow, wincing at the still-tender wound.

He searched for any sign of the trail as he moved, and luckily the stars burned brightly overhead, offering Mason just enough light to see a tiny discoloration in the rocks ahead of him. He assumed the off-colored path had been worn smooth by countless goat herders taking their flocks down into the lush valley below. If he was right, it would cut a lot of time off their route, but if he was wrong, they would be too far out of position to help the teams moving into what he was sure was an ambush.

•  •  •

On the valley floor, Rico checked his azimuth and made a small correction before calling his position back to Kevin. Despite growing up in the city, he had a natural spatial acuity, which allowed him to navigate without using a map. It seemed odd to everyone else, but after studying a terrain model, or a map, he was able to visualize what the ground looked like in his head with a staggering degree of accuracy.

“Be advised, we are five hundred meters out from phase line one. I’m killing my IR to conduct a recon of the area.”

“Negative, we’re running behind,” the major said over the radio. “I want to keep moving for another two hundred and fifty meters.”

“Fucking dick,” Rico swore to himself. He was used to Renee and Kevin letting him do his job and was spoiled by the fact that they always listened to him. This was his first time working with
the major, and it was rapidly becoming evident that he was a huge micromanager. The valley was beginning to narrow and the gentle terrain they had been traversing was changing around them. Just like Kevin and Rico had assumed, the terrain wasn’t jiving with the photos they had used to plan the mission, and the plan they were adhering to needed to be modified.

“We need to hold up. It’s getting narrow up ahead,” he called back.

“Roger that,” Kevin replied, not waiting for the major to answer.

Kevin held up a closed fist and his team spread out in defensive positions. Rico’s beacon suddenly switched off.

“Cut your strobes,” he said over the radio as he settled in to wait.

The grass looked dry as he took a knee, but after a few seconds, he could feel moisture soaking through his pants. He was used to being wet and uncomfortable, and as long as his feet stayed dry, he knew he’d be okay. Digging a Clif Bar from his cargo pocket, Kevin ripped the wrapper open and stowed the trash. The high-calorie bar would keep his energy up, but it quickly absorbed the spit in his mouth. Fumbling in the dark, he reached for the hydration tube and placed the bite valve in his mouth. The water was warm at first but got cooler as he drank.

Looking at the sky, he flipped up his NODs and wiped his brow with the back of his gloved hands. The stars blinked and shimmered across the heavens like millions of diamonds on an infinite jeweler’s mat. It was humbling to be so small in such a wide space, and Kevin was struck by the fact that most people would never experience a sight like this.

•  •  •

Mason’s back was tight at the base of his spine, and despite not wearing any body armor, he could feel the heat rising from beneath his shirt. He mentally checked off another hundred meters and after some quick math, he figured they were less than two hundred meters from their objective.

He stopped to pull the Nalgene bottle from a pouch on his chest rig and drank deeply. Some of the water spilled out over his chin, and he briefly considered pouring some over the back of his neck. The pads of the lightweight bump helmet were soaked with sweat and felt wet against the crown of his head. The helmet wasn’t even ballistic, so it offered no protection from bullets, but he wasn’t going to hold his NODs in his hand, so he’d been forced to get one.

He heard Renee moving up behind him, and as he stowed the water, she took a knee to his rear. Leaning in, she asked, “How far?”

“Maybe two hundred meters.”

Looking over his shoulder, he saw that she was sweating but didn’t seem to be in bad shape. Being around a woman awakened a long-forgotten protectiveness in him and the sensation felt strange. He barely knew anything about her, but he’d immediately recognized a steely resolve in her that made her special. Mason hadn’t cared about a woman since his wife had left him, and he sure hadn’t stopped to think about one, but for some reason, Renee was different.

“We need to move,” she said.

Turning to check on Zeus, he noticed that she had her own compass out and was confirming their location against the GPS attached to the stock of her rifle. As the Libyan moved to follow, she squeezed past Mason and took up point.

Mason waited for his friend to catch up and noticed that the man wasn’t even sweating.

“Aren’t you tired?” he asked.

“I grew up in the mountains, my friend. If I could only keep you two from taking so many breaks, we would probably be there by now.”

“I have to make sure we’re going the right way.”

“That never stopped you in the past. I see the way you have been looking at her.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Mason whispered back.

“There is no shame in it.” Zeus smiled before pushing past Mason and moving to catch up with Renee.

K
evin moved up the front of the element as soon as Rico advised that he’d found a spot with good cover. He gave the signal to move out and kept his eyes open for the IR ChemLight marking the rally point.

Just like Rico had said, the terrain began to narrow imperceptibly, and a shallow bend had to be negotiated before the team reached the rally point. Kevin could see the ChemLight’s subtle glow where it lay nestled among the tall grass, but he was concerned about occupying the low ground.

He had to count the entire element into the rally point before making his way to the center of the defensive perimeter. When he got there, Kevin found Rico and Bones arguing with Striker 6.

“What’s up?” Kevin asked.

“We need to get out of this low ground,” Rico said.

“Look, my men are already out there. Just let them do their job,” the CIA man said.

“Major, it’s your call,” Kevin said as Toms made his way to the impromptu meeting.

“We are going to stick with the plan and let the strike team get in position.”

Rico shook his head in disagreement and the meeting broke up, leaving Kevin to placate Bones and search for Tyler.

The radio crackled. “Striker 6, I found us a way up.”

“Damn, that was fast,” Kevin said as Bones motioned for Tyler to join them.

“Are they even going to set up security?” Rico demanded in a low growl. “These cheese dicks are going to get someone killed.”

“What’s up, boss?” Tyler asked as he ducked down next to Bones.

“Look, I don’t—” Kevin began, but was cut off by an explosion outside the perimeter. He instinctively ducked his head into his shoulders as dirt rained down on their position. Beyond their perimeter someone was screaming, and then a burst of fire erupted from the high ground.

“Contact two o’clock, forty meters,” someone yelled as the machine-gun fire cut into the strike team.

Rico and Bones spread out, ducking behind cover before returning fire. Kevin turned around and, after flipping his selector to full auto, unloaded a magazine toward the threat. After three quick bursts, he pulled a smoke grenade from his kit and tossed it as far as he could.

•  •  •

Mason was startled by the sudden explosion and paused midstride. Realizing the ambush had just been initiated, Renee darted off the path and began scrambling up the rock face in an attempt to see what was going on.

“Zeus, get her,” he yelled as she scrambled out of sight.

Pebbles and dirt rained down from the low cut, and the Libyan threw his hand up to protect his eyes. He staggered back toward the edge of the cliff face, his arms still shielding his eyes, and Mason had to jump forward to steady his friend.

Just over the ridgeline, the sound of heavy fire mixed with the deep concussion of the grenades going off.

“We’re too late,” Mason said as he steadied his friend and turned
his attention to where he’d last seen Renee. Mason clambered up the rugged incline, which leveled out, revealing the valley floor below them. Zeus followed him up, and the two men watched as the firefight unfolded a hundred meters to the southwest of them.

Frantically, he searched for Renee.
Did she fall off the mountain?
he wondered. “Fuck, where did she go?” he asked out loud.

Mason was about to descend when Zeus grabbed his arm and pulled him back down.

“What?” he demanded.

“Mason, just lase the target and let’s get out of here.”

“What about her?”

The Libyan shrugged and Mason went to pull his arm free but stopped suddenly. Zeus was right.

“Damn it.” He pulled his pack off his back and grabbed the bulky PEQ-1 laser designator out of the bag. The SOFLAM, or Special Operations Forces Laser Acquisition Marker, had made a name for itself during the invasion of Afghanistan. It was a rugged, easy-to-operate piece of equipment that allowed the operator to locate and designate a target for laser-guided munitions. Weighing in at eleven pounds, it had the ability to lase a target over twenty-three kilometers away.