Survivalist - 20 - Firestorm (24 page)

The flames were gone from Rourke’s clothes. The explosions kept coming …

Jason Darkwood opened his eyes. “You are a brave man, Darkwood,” Wolfgang Mann smiled. Darkwood looked past Mann, seeing Sam Aldridge, left arm in a field sling, a silly grin on his face, beside Sam, Otto Hammerschmidt. There was a look of satisfaction in Hammerschmidfs blue eyes.

“Did we win?” Darkwood asked.

“You won, Captain. We only finished your work,” Mann told him. Darkwood felt a little sick to his stomach and light-headed at the same time. He looked around him. He was inside a J7-V. He was lying down.

“You’re gonna be fine, Jase,” Sam Aldridge said, leaning over him, holding Darkwood’s hands in his. “You saved all our lives and when we saw you pitchin’ that damn energy weapon, we thought you were a goner, they did, anyway. Me, I knew you’d come out on top. You’re banged up, maybe got some cracked ribs, got a few bullets that zigged when you zagged, but you’re okay, Jase.”

There was something important Darkwood wanted to ask. And he remembered. “Fritz-ahh-the horse.”

Tm sorry, Jase,” Aldridge whispered, looking away as his voice cracked a litde.

As Darkwood closed his eyes, his eyes began to fill with tears …

He couldn’t hear Paul, but could see Paul’s hps moving. There was a roaring in his ears. John Rourke told himself it would subside. The snow still fell, but there was a ring of fire surrounding them as Rourke lay there in the snow, Paul kneeling beside him. The flames, Rourke realized, were from the synth-fuel stores of the Soviet armored vehicles which the missiles had destroyed. In time, they would die out.

Rourke sat up, shakily but not with considerable difficulty.

He was wrapped in an emergency blanket. He assumed Paul could hear him. “Was I burned badly? I feel all right. I can’t hear you yet, so nod.”

Paul smiled, shook his head in the negative. “I wasn’t burned badly?” Paul nodded this time.

He would have asked about Michael, but coming toward them from the furthest edge of the most distant arc of flames was the Atsack.

“Did we win?” Rourke smiled.

Paul Rubenstein smiled, nodded. John Rourke, his right hand still paining him, the wind blowing bitterly, snow mounded around them, reached under the tatters of his parka.

He found a cigar.

Rourke looked at his friend, the Zippo flaring in Rourke’s cupped hands, his right hand still hurting.

Paul Rubenstein was laughing and it was like watching a silent movie, only the gestures, not the sound.

Rourke felt himself starting to smile as he thrust the tip of his cigar into the wind-dancing blue-yellow flame. The energy weapon lay in the snow beside him. With the plans Vassily Prokopiev had struggled to bring the Allies, now there was a chance against the new Soviet technology …

There were five men surrounding Annie, closing in on her position in an ever-tightening circle. As carefully as she could, Natalia scouted the surrounding terrain before assuming her position in the rocks above the road which fronted the field in which the gutted helicopter lay. There had been no sign of anyone beyond these five.

All of them were heavily armed, but that was to be expected.

Sporadic firing began against the helicopter where Annie stood watch over the wounded German aviator. Natalia brought the M-16 to her shoulder as answering fire came from Annie’s position.

A good accurate rifle-a Dragunov, which she’d cut her rifle marksmanship teeth with; or, a Stey-Mannlicher SSG, like John used (“John,” Natalia whispered almost aloud.)-would have been better suited to the task at hand.

As the five men advanced, Natalia settled the M-16 comfortably.

She touched her finger to the trigger in the next instant after Annie began again to return fire. Short bursts from the thirty-round magazine. One man down. Another man, but to Annie’s fire. Another to her own. Poorly aimed shots tore into the rocks surround- | ing Natalia, but she kept her spot there, no time to move. She fired { again. Another of the five men down, now only two remaining. »

A heavy volume of fire from Annie’s position, Natalia emptied \ her magazine, changed quickly to another, a steady stream of short, J full-auto bursts, steam rising off the barrel of her rifle as snow , melted from it. ■

Five men down. ‘

The firing from Annie’s position terminated, as did Natalia’s. Natalia took her radio from her pocket. “Annie. Stay put for a while until we are-sure. Do you read me?”

“Thank God you came, m stay put. He’s still alive. So we can’t sit it out for long.”

“I dunk we have them all,” Natalia said, breathing …

He watched the two women. On an improvised travois, slipping over the snow like a heavy laden sled (he had seen these in photographs from the days of glory in the true Germany), there was a body. It would be the traitorous and expendable pilot from Wolfgang Mann’s command. If the pilot lived to enter the Retreat of f Doctor Rourke, the man would die soon thereafter. j

But the two women were going to the Retreat of Doctor Rourke. | That was the important thing.

Beside him, Hugo Goerdler said, “Your plan is working, Freidrich. But it was wrong that thirteen of my men should die.” !

“You knew the plan. You approved the plan. Do not summon the ; rest of your force until we see them begin to enter.” I

“I sometimes think you forget, Freidrich, that you are under my i command.” »

Freidrich Rausch laughed. “I sometimes think you forget, Hugo, « that I do your dirty work so well”

Freidrich Rausch returned his gaze to the two women as they struggled along the road toward a peculiarly shaped mountain in the distance.

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