Firestorm: Book III of the Wildfire Saga (11 page)

"Move—they're on your six!" warned Charlie’s voice.
 
“They’re trying to work around the room and get to you.”

Cooper grunted and dropped to the floor staying low to avoid the acrid smoke filling the room.
 
He glanced around and found himself surrounded by dozens of bullet-riddled servers.

Most were scrap metal now.
 
More than one still smoked—but in the gloom he spotted a handful that looked relatively unscathed.
 
He raced forward, not sure what he was looking for, but determined to walk away with something.
 
Cooper ripped out the first rack of undamaged servers he found and removed PCIe blades loaded with solid state hard drives.
 
He dumped as many as he could into his hip pack and ducked as a chunk of the wall flew past his helmet.
 
A sudden blast of heat erupted through the hole the wall and everything around him shimmered.

"Coop!
 
Get out of there!
 
The fire's spreading—we got to get the hell out of Dodge, man!"

"I need ten seconds," grunted Cooper as he pulled out another hard drive and dropped it into his satchel.

"You got five!
" said Charlie’s voice over the noise of the gunfight.

Cooper stood and yanked out one last rack.
 
He hoped there was something useful in here worth the risk.
 
He snapped one of the delicate cards as he ripped out the memory banks and tossed them into his bulging satchel.
 
"Moving!
 
Give me some cover!"

"
Popping smoke!
" called out Jax.
 

Cooper bolted for the entrance to the server room and spotted a plume of white smoke from Jax's grenade.
 
He dashed across the room, surprised how fast the fire had spread.
 
Most of the room was now engulfed in flames and if it weren't for the material built into his HAHO suit, Cooper doubted he would've survived even crossing the burning room.

He raised an arm against the glare of the heat and realized the room was littered with
 
bodies.
 
His HUD showed all the SEALs were still alive and moving, so he followed Jax to the closest wall.
 
"We need a door!" he shouted over the chaos.

Jax lit the charge under the wall.
 
"Ahead of you, old man.
 
No time to shape it—fire in the hole!"
 

A chunk of plaster erupted just above Jax’s head.
 
"Do it!" barked Cooper.
 

The charge detonated, the shockwave blowing a hole in the wall large enough for them to squeeze through.
 
Cooper covered Jax's exit with a burst of fire into the inferno on the other side of the room.
 
Somewhere through there, Reginald's men continued to fight, albeit blindly.

"Clear!" called Jax from outside.

"Charlie, Sparky—go!" ordered Cooper as he fired another burst into the fire.
 
The last of his team rushed past him to dive through the hole in the wall.

“Team two, heading to the jump off point!
” announced Switchplate.

"Frag out!"
 
Cooper tossed a grenade into the fire and fell through the exit hole, landing on his back next to Jax in the snow.
   

They brought their rifles up and held steady on the opening, watching the smoke billow out of the hole.
 
More shots rang out from inside the building and holes appeared in the wall to the left and right.
 
The guards had aimed up not down.
 
The grenade cooked off and sparks shot out the exit hole, sizzling as they impacted the snow.

One…two…get up and move…go..six…move, move, move!
Cooper forced the pain in his right knee to the background.
 
He rolled left, got to his knees, and grabbed Jax.
 
"Let's go!"

"Actual, where the hell are you?
 
We can't hold these guys back any longer!
" called
 
Switchplate.

"Striker 2-1, Actual, Ghost Rider.
 
You got a large group of hostiles moving up the south face of that mountain.
 
Suggest you hightail it out of there."

Cooper instinctively glanced up at the black sky, as if he could see the tiny shape of the
 
drone that circled above.
 
"What I wouldn't give to have Puff the Magic Dragon up there instead of that little tin can," he muttered.
 
"Charlie, get 'em moving."
 

"Fall back to the north face, let's go!" said Charlie, already a dozen yards ahead of Cooper, fighting a running battle toward their escape.

Cooper switched frequencies to contact the drone pilot. “Roger that, Ghost Rider, thanks for the heads-up.”

"
Team two, falling back
," announced Switchplate.
 
"Overwatch, move!"

"Already on my way,"
replied Juice.

Muzzle flashes lit up the night all around them as Cooper glanced at the pillar of smoke and fire
 
stabbing up into the night sky from the top of the chalet.
 
Hungry flames engulfed the entire structure.
 

Puffs of snow erupted like little geysers around his feet as he ran.
 
His heads-up display showed at least 15 of Reginald's men approaching from the south, east, and west.
 

Cooper dove around the corner of a large, snow-covered rock and took shelter with the rest of his fireteam.
 
"Everybody good to go?"

"Maughan took a round in the shoulder, and Juice got one in the leg, but we're mostly okay," reported Charlie.

Cooper glanced over the rock at the advancing enemy troops.
 
"All teams, Actual.
 
Check your chutes and prep for EVAC.”

"Roger that,
" replied Switchplate over a burst of automatic weapons fire.

Enemy reinforcements crested the south face of the clearing and worked their way toward the burning chalet.
 
Small knots of them fanned out, flashlights stabbing into the snow-filled night.

"Coop, we got about 30 seconds before shit gets bad," observed Jax.

"Before it's bad?
 
What the hell you call
this?
" asked Maughan.

"This?" Jax laughed.
 
"This is just a warm-up, Rook."

"You two can grab-ass later!" snarled Cooper.
 
“Team two, go—we'll cover you.”

"
Hooyah
," called out Switchplate.

"Suppressing fire!" ordered Cooper.
 
His team leaned around the rock and laid down a withering hail of fire on the approaching enemy.
 
It was just enough for Switchplate's team to race to the edge of the mountain and launch themselves into the darkness.
 
In less than two seconds, half the SEALs had vanished over the edge of the abyss.

"
We're away!
 
Deploying chutes!
" said Switchplate's strained, static-filled voice.

"That's our cue, ladies!
 
Go, go, go!" called out Cooper.

Cooper raced to the edge, watching on his display to make sure Charlie did likewise.
 
The edge of the mountain raced up to meet him.
 
Everything below was white—everything above, pure black.
 
Puffs of snow exploded around his churning feet and Cooper felt excruciating pain flare in his right leg.

No, no, no, not now—just give me two more steps!
 

Cooper forced himself to run through the pain although he felt the bones of his knee grinding together with every step.
 
And then he was at the edge.
 
He risked a glance at his HUD and made sure the rest of his team were already over.

Last one out.

His heart thundering in his chest, Cooper slung his rifle over his back and launched himself forward through the pain in his leg and swung his arms free.
 
The ground disappeared behind him as he soared out into the air.
 
He felt the dizzying sensation of vertigo as blackness surrounded him.
 
His helmet’s night vision kicked in and illuminated the side of the mountain in greens and grays as it rushed up to crush him.
 
Cooper ripped the D-ring on his chest and felt the sudden pull from his shoulders as his chute deployed.
 

He glanced up and grabbed the guidelines, immediately controlling his descent away from the base of the mountain toward the western rendezvous point.
 
Another look at the HUD confirmed the rest of his men had made it safely away from the chalet.

"Command, 2-1, Actual.
 
We are Oscar Mike to the primary RP."

C
HAPTER
12

Salmon Falls, Idaho.

D
ENOYAN
T
ECUMSEH
CAREFULLY
PLACED
his foot next to the leaves at the base of an ancient gnarled oak tree and paused.
 
He’d been careful—he hadn’t made much noise at all on his ascent up the hill, but this was his last meat run of the week and people in town depended on him.
 
The young buck mule deer he stalked had yet to detect him—things had to stay that way for a few more minutes.
 
He hadn't seen any other hunters out today and hoped he wouldn't—at least not any time soon.

Just a little closer…

Denny let his eyes scan the area without moving his head.
 
Nothing but bare trees and evergreens.
 
The buck he stalked slipped casually between two wide pines on the other side of the oak.
 
He followed the delicate deer track through the tall grass.

He checked the light in the sky.
 
Only an hour till sunset.
 
Denny grimaced.
 
Do I take him now or come back in the morning?
 
Either way, by the time I make it back to camp it’ll be dark.

Harvest now, eat now,
Grandfather’s voice said.
 
Wait to harvest, wait to eat.

Denny smiled.
 
It was like Red Eagle stood at his shoulder.
 
The smile faded as he looked around to make sure the old man wasn’t there.
 

Denny slowly exhaled.
 
He’s right though
.
 
He pulled a hickory arrow from the bottom of his open sided over-the-shoulder quiver and knocked it.
 
His face a mask of determination, Denny took a breath and crept around the tree, following the buck's track.
 
Denny closed his eyes and let his other senses take over.
 
He heard the slow, steady drum of his own heart beating.
 
In the distance, a scrub jay squawked.
 
Smaller birds—two titmice—chattered away in the branches above him.
 
Far off to the left, a squirrel rustled through some leaves.

Then he heard it—a soft snort, like a sigh—pine needles and scrub brush shifting ever so slightly as the deer moved.
 
Denny opened his eyes.
 
The sound of the mule deer settling in his bed for the night had come from almost dead ahead.
 
He was on the other side of the pines and a little to the left.
 
Denny could almost see the deer in his mind's eye, graceful legs tucked up under a powerful body, the long neck and gentle face looking away, ever cautious but still oblivious to
 
what stalked him.

He re-examined the possible approaches and imagined the noise he’d make going straight through the pines.
 
To get a clear shot at the buck, he’d have to be right on top of it.
 
He frowned and looked left and right.
 
The pines were too big to slip around quickly.
 
He’d backed himself into a fine corner—if he moved forward, the buck would see him and bolt deeper into the pines.
 
If he went left or right to flank, the grass or leaves would surely give away his movement.

Deciding that it would be better to slip away and return tomorrow rather than scare his prey and force it to find another area to bed down, Denny backtracked along his path and rested his back against the big oak again.
 
He waited a few moments for the adrenaline to fade as the rush of the almost-kill evaporated.
 
Standing there with his arrow still knocked, he closed his eyes and let out a slow breath.

One day won't make that much of a difference, I guess.
 
But damn, I was so close.