Blind Fire (18 page)

‘So... what did you have in mind?’ His hand kept hovering over his crotch, wouldn’t he have just loved to have shown her, pulled her face down to it. Those bright teeth nibbling at him, yeah, that’d be good.

Sorting through the pilfered pictures, Andrea selected one and showed it to Dooley. ‘You see this one…’
He saw it alright. Dooley could feel sweat pouring off him as he looked at the full frontal black girl, one leg cocked up on a chair, her thighs spread wide. ‘How would you do it to her?’
Willing as he was, Dooley could hardly believe what he was hearing. This was too good to be true...
‘Where would you thrust your bayonet?’
It
was
too good to be true...

Revell watched from where he stood beside the radio station. It wasn’t possible, she couldn’t be switching to that great slob; but there again her first choice of companion had been a crazy one, the loner, Clarence. ‘I’ve got the commander of that blocking force for you, Major.’ Cohen hesitated before passing over the handset. ‘You know him.’

Revell paid the remark no special attention, until he heard the voice coming over. In fact it wasn’t so much that he recognised the voice as the language.

‘OK, Colonel... Like you say, Colonel, it’s a cunt...’ He jotted down a map reference. ‘Yes… well pick you up... Glad to hear you got every mother-fucker, Colonel... out.’

‘It was Ol’ Foul Mouth then, Major?’
‘Colonel Lippincott to you, Corporal. You value your stripes, don’t you forget it.’ But Revell devoutly wished he could. Even talking to the man was an experience, but after the first time the novelty of listening to a tirade of obscenity from a senior officer wore off. Worse, Lippincott expected his subordinates to use ‘earthy English, something the fucking troops can understand’. Revell played safe by throwing his own words back at him. ‘Here, give this to the pilot, tell him an LZ is already laid. We should see smoke before we get there.’

Trust O’l Foul Mouth to want to get back to his creature comforts as fast as possible. The colonel was always going on about how he longed to get to grips with the ‘shitty commies’, waving the stump of the arm he’d lost in a Russian strafe attack on a forward HQ to emphasise every point. But the immaculate, almost dandified uniforms he sported and the trappings of luxury with which he surrounded himself didn’t go well with the blood and guts image he liked to project. It looked as though he’d at last tricked or bullied or blackmailed someone into letting him have a crack. And Revell was forced to admit that if his scratch force had already accounted for the remainder of the column, then he’d done a remarkable job. But there again, it was likely he’d been able to call on more fire- power than Revell had...

‘I’ve got it in sight now. Looks like someone has been lighting a lot of bonfires.’ Revell went forward into the cockpit. About five kilometres ahead, the pale grey band of the autobahn stretched away to the right and left as far as the eye could see. The area surrounding the section they were aiming for was dotted with flickering red flecks. Thin black fingers rose up into the western sky, brought into sharp relief by their contrast against the reddish dust-filled clouds through which the setting sun was trying to shine.

As they flew closer the fires showed more clearly, revealing themselves to be burning vehicles. Most were on the slip roads feeding a complex intersection with the multi-lane highway, but there were five actually on it and one or two beyond. A disc shaped sky-spy sped past the cockpit, provoking a bout of swearing from the flight crew.

‘Those fucking things should be made to self-destruct when they’ve finished a mission, if they can’t get them back.’ The pilot shook ‘his fist after the unconventional miniature craft. ‘You know, they leave some of them stooging about on auto for an hour or so after they’ve finished with them, until they drop out of the sky.’

The sky-spy executed a precision turn to complete another circuit of the holding pattern it had been locked into. A two-fingered salute from the co-pilot followed the remotely controlled aircraft. ‘I know of three choppers that have been hit by those flying cow-pats. Nearly brought one of them down, killed a door gunner and started a fire in a cabin.’

‘We’re looking for a service station.’ Leaning forward, Revell could see the scene of the recent battle through the thin veil of blue smoke hugging the ground. It looked as if the column had run head-on into a row of hulldown NATO armour, but there had been casualties on both sides. Among the wrecks on the autobahn, he recognised the chunky turret outline of two West German Leopard tanks, as well as three American M60A2 tanks. The engagement must have been a fierce one while it lasted. A line of Chevrolet military ambulances were filling already.

‘Hold on, we’re going down.’ As the pilot settled the old Chinook to another fast landing that brought a groan from Cohen, the light began to fade rapidly. With the whirr of the blades dying to a whisper, there came a violent rapping at the forward door. Libby pulled a fumbling Ripper out of the way and unfastened it.

‘Do I have to come looking for you, or are you coming out?’ Revell jumped on to the weed-infested tarmac of a disused service centre. A weighted down white plastic sheet, laid out in the form of a giant ‘H’ crinkled and rucked beneath his boots. The orange smoke candle that supplemented it was hardly needed, with the numerous fires around giving all the information that could be wanted about wind speed and direction.

‘They drove straight into our fucking laps. We just sat behind the crash barriers up on the highway there and waited for them.’ Lippincott was in fine humour, chewing on a fresh pencil. ‘The last bunch didn’t even put up a fight, just popped up and waved their crappy arms. My boys had themselves a turkey shoot. Some of them started pumping out smoke like crazy, but we switched to infra-red and just went on swatting them. We brewed up every last one.’

‘Looks like you took some casualties yourself, Colonel.’ The row of flaming armour on the autobahn stretched away like a line of ruddy beacons. ‘Shit. Wouldn’t have had them if a flight of commie gunships hadn’t pounced just when we were getting down to business and our attention was elsewhere. We got lucky though, the fuckers only made one pass, must have been low on fuel. Had my own command car shot out from under me though. I’ll have to find myself a new driver as well, or get the old one fitted with a new leg. Still, there’s always a few eggs get broken, it’s the price we all have to fucking pay.’

Whether he was referring to his driver losing a limb, or himself losing a car, Revell couldn’t be sure. Most likely, the loss that concerned Lippincott was that of a driver who’d become used to his peculiar ways.

‘Yeah, we did a real beautiful job here. Had the shits under sky-spy surveillance from soon after they’d left you, knew exactly where to wait for them.’ Lippincott spat out slivers of wood and pieces of lead, examined the end of the pencil then went at it again. ‘I even had a battery of 155mm cannon south of Goldbach assigned to me, to give Blindfire support with rocket-assisted Copperheads, but I didn’t use them, didn’t need them. Yeah, my tanks did a real neat job, took out all eighteen of those commie wagons in under an hour.’

‘How many?’ It was a superfluous question, Revell knew he’d heard correctly. ‘I said eighteen. What’s the matter with you, you had your fingers elsewhere when they should have been in your ears?’ ‘No, my hearing’s OK, Colonel, and so is my counting. It was twenty-three tanks that kept going when we hit the rear of the column. If my subtraction is up to scratch as well, that leaves five commie tanks unaccounted for.’ ‘They could still be in there.’ Lippincott indicated the inky darkness of the Zone, to the east of the autobahn.
‘And maybe they’re not.’ Revell was looking westwards, where a broad glowing band across a wide arc of the horizon marked the city of Frankfurt. ‘And if they’re not, then all hell is about to break loose.’

FOURTEEN
‘They’ll do it.’ Lippincott took off the headphones and handed them to the major. ‘They don’t like it, but they’ll do it. As soon as Corps HQ have confirmation the commies are in the city, you’ll be given their location and a general nuke alert will be sounded.’

‘That should keep the civvies nicely tucked up underground, out of my way, while I get on with it.’ And Revell had thought the fighting over! ‘You’re not coming with us, Colonel?’

‘You trying to rile me? No I’m not fucking coming. Command want me to take what’s left of this rag-bag of armour and do a sweep in the Zone, just in case those commies are still stooging about near here... I ain’t gonna find the shitty buggers, all I’m gonna do is spend a long uncomfortable night hauling tanks out of ditches and streams and getting bad tempered. One thing’s for sure, no crappy arse ticker at HQ is going to think to call me off when those wagons do turn up elsewhere.’

There was nothing that Revell could say to that. The colonel was most probably right, and agreeing with him wasn’t going to help matters. ‘We’ll lift the moment that laser target designator is on board.’

‘OK, I’ll get out of your way.’ Deliberately not seeing the offer of assistance from Hogg, but looking at him as he turned to use the step, Lippincott paused. ‘You guys won’t have heard. Seems someone stole a general’s car today. There’s a hell of a witch-hunt going on at HQ. Haven’t seen a block long, big, black and shiny Caddy have you?’

‘Not us, Colonel.’ Hogg was a shade too fast with the denial. ‘Fine, fine. And I know you’re telling the truth, Lieutenant, cause you’re not smiling anymore.’ Taking another step down, Lippincott paused one last time. ‘I’ve always kinda hankered after a Cadillac. Fact is, I’m so keen to have one, I wouldn’t even mind if it’d had a re-spray.’ Hogg and Revell exchanged glances. A voice floated to them from the darkness outside.

‘Powder blue would be nice.’
‘What did happen to it?’ Curiosity got the better of Revell, when commonsense told him not to get involved.
‘It was Burke who’d been listening, and now chipped in. ‘You want to know about a black staff car.’

‘I’m not sure…’ Hogg thought about it. ‘You know, I can’t even remember where I left it... Yes, alright, tell me.’ ‘I saw the front end sticking out of an alley in Budingen, after the battle. There wasn’t a scratch on it’
‘Thank God. For a moment...’

‘…but that was all there was, Lieutenant, just the front.’ ‘You know this Colonel Lippincott.’ Hogg passed his hand over his eyes. ‘Think he’d like the car by instalments? Piece at a time?’ ‘Don’t worry about it. We have other problems at present’ ‘It’s here, Major.’ Dooley lifted in the laser designator, making tight work of the equipment’s forty-seven pounds.

‘Take us up.’ Slamming the door and securing it, Revell joined the flight crew. The pilot’s face was just visible, lit by the glow from luminous instruments. This bus isn’t equipped for fancy manoeuvring in the dark. I hope you’re not expecting any hot-shot flying.’
‘No, like before, take it easy. When we find our target you can drop us off ahead of it. From then on we’ll find our own transport, and you can go back to hauling freight, if that’s what you still want to do.’ ‘You mean I’ll be finished? Hey, now that’s good news. I’ve aged ten years today.’ The pilot touched his face ‘Does it show?’

‘In this light you look like you died last week.’ ‘Thanks, Major. That was a real tonic’

Above the cockpit the front engine faltered and ran raggedly for a moment. The nose dipped as the co-pilot played with a selection of fuel switches.

‘It’ll be that pump again.’ As the engine picked up, the pilot trimmed the Chinook back to an even keel. ‘Marvellous, isn’t it? All day I haul spares for tanks, guns and fixed wing aircraft; best part of a month I’ve been waiting for this old bus to be fixed.’

Cohen squeezed in. ‘I think this is it, Major.’ He pointed to a scribbled line of figures on his board. ‘That’s the map reference. There’s been no military confirmation, but the civilian switchboards have been jammed for the last five minutes, calls to the army and police.’

‘Where is this?’ Revell took the appropriate map from a rack and checked the references against it. ‘If it is them, then they’re lost, they’ve screwed up on the last lap.’

‘What’s at this place we’re going to; any girls?’ The pilot turned the Chinook on to the heading he was given.

‘No, it’s warehouses, not whorehouses. A nice industrial area, ideal for us. Long straight roads, with plenty of hiding places just off them.’ ‘So long as there’s room for me to put down without having my blades play cat’s cradles with power lines, I’m happy.’ As the pilot took the engines up to their maximum revolutions, the whole fuselage vibrated.

Dooley was happy too. Sitting close to Andrea, he could feel the warmth of her body gradually working through the several layers of clothing that separated them. The trembling of the craft made his backside tingle and kept his mind on the lower portion of his anatomy - and hers. He wondered if the sensation did anything for her.

It was rather like being inside a giant vibrator... now there was a thought. At intervals he would grin and grimace to the others, and nod to the girl as she rested with her head against a stack of empty pallets, mouth slightly open, moist lips framing perfect teeth, her closed eyes showing off the long dark lashes. She was younger than he usually went for, but a couple of quick ones would be so good. He could have murdered Ripper when he disturbed her by sitting down opposite, catching her feet with his.

‘Say, that was real clumsy of me. I’m sorry, I truly am.’ Andrea’s eyes opened and looked at Ripper, and then right through him. Hell, she was playing hard to get. Still PFC Billy J Ripper was not about to be put off. Show an interest, that was a ploy that had always worked back home. ‘You German?’ No answer, just the same unwavering gaze from those gold-flecked brown eyes. ‘You remind me of a girl I used to go with...’

‘Then you have had one?’
Now why’d she say that, was she getting at him? Heck no. Press on boy, she’ll weaken, try the experience trick. ‘Sure I’ve had one, had a whole load, why I’ve ...’ ‘Then you had best stay in practice, it would be a shame to see so much talent wasted.’
‘What are you suggesting then?’ He could see the big man glaring at him, as well as that strange limey. What the hell, go for broke, they couldn’t do nothing with a couple of officers present.
‘I suggest you do what I think you do best, what you have always done, abuse yourself.’