Shadows of War (53 page)

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Authors: Larry Bond

BOOK: Shadows of War
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Ordinarily, that would have pissed him off—how dare the mothers run away before he had a chance to properly kick their butts?
But given that his job was to grab the spook and the dweeb with a minimum of fuss, he was
almost
happy to let them go. He told his men to hold their positions while he and Jenkins looked for stragglers or snipers.
“Where the hell are our bicycles?” he asked.
“Blown to pieces, Cap,” said Stevens. “I'm standing on them.”
“Stinking reds,” said Little Joe. “Now we gotta fuckin' walk.”
“Walkin's good for you,” said Stevens. “Work off your beer gut.”
“Hey, Cap, who ordered this rain?” asked Mancho.
“Yeah, his dress is gonna get wet,” said Stevens.
“Screw my dress. I'm worried about your perm.”
“All right, girls. Cut it,” said Kerfer. “Let's get to Baker Point with a minimum of bitchin' and lynchin'.”
“What fun would that be?” said Jenkins beside him. Jenkins was a black guy from Brooklyn, New York, who spoke in a voice so high he sounded like a girl. No one made fun of it though, because he was sensitive about it. Ordinarily that would only have encouraged razzing, but Jenkins stood six ten in his bare feet, and weighed so much it took two guys to balance him in the chopper.
No one made fun of it except Kerfer, that is. He was the only person in the platoon Jenkins wouldn't hit or sit on.
“Come on, Squeaky, I'll race you to the road. Let's see if we can get there before your voice changes.”
 
 
The rain was torrential
by the time they reached the slope below the spot where Mara and the mercenaries had slept. Mara, still holding M
, put her right hand over her eyes to shield them from the worst of the downpour. She couldn't remember being this wet, not even in the ocean.
Josh, walking a few feet ahead, stopped.
“Global warming, right?” she said as she caught up.
“Not exactly.” He reached out and took M
. The girl was so tired she simply couldn't walk on her own. “This is the way it's always rained in Vietnam. The aggregate is different, but if you look at the individual episodes, this is well within parameters.”
“I keep forgetting you're a scientist. How long is it going to rain?”
“To know that I'd have to be a meteorologist. Or a fortune-teller.”
“Come on,” she said, tugging. “The intersection is only a half mile away.”
 
 
“The infrared can't see through the rain,
Kerfer. You know that.”
“You Air Farters are always making excuses,” Kerfer told the major who was handling the interface between the SEALs and the Global Hawk UAV supplying them with intel. Equipped with a powerful infrared imager, the drone had been flown into position specifically for the mission, but the heavy cloud cover and rain rendered the sensors useless. “If it was a nice day you'd tell me there was too much glare.”
“Fug you and the airplane you flew in on.”
“Any time, Major. I can always use some R & R. Call me back when you have something to contribute.” Kerfer killed the transmission and turned to Stevens. “Are you
sure
this is the intersection?”
“Spooks marked it on the GPS.”
“Screw the GPS. Let me see the paper map.”
Stevens pulled it from his ruck. He switched on his pocket LED light, crouching low to the ground and cupping his hands to contain the glow.
“Why this intersection and not that one?” Kerfer asked, pointing down the road about half a mile.
“This is the one they marked, skipper.”
“Get on the horn with Lucas and find out if he can read a fuckin' map. Little Joe, you're with me. We're going to check out the next bus stop down the line.”
 
 
Josh pulled the sat phone out
and looked at it as it started to ring.
“Answer it,” said Mara. “Go ahead.”
“Hello?”
“Josh?”
“Yes.”
“This is Peter, Josh. Are you where you're supposed to be? Your friends are looking for you.”
Josh looked in Mara's direction. They were less than three feet apart, but he could barely see her.
“Are we where we're supposed to be?” he asked her.
“Yes.”
“Don't worry,” said Lucas. “I have it now.”
He hung up.
“The line's dead,” said Josh.
“The SEALs must be close,” said Mara. “And the Chinese, too.”
 
 
Kerfer and Little Joe walked
along the shoulder of the road, moving as quickly as they could despite the darkness and steady rain. The road had become more stream than highway. The muck sucked at their boots and made it hard to keep their balance. Kerfer, who'd taken point himself, pushed himself to stay ahead of Little Joe—if the big man fell forward on him, it would hurt more than being shot.
A hill rose on their right. The road angled to the left. The intersection was coming up.
He heard something and immediately took a step left, grabbing Little Joe and pulling him into a crouch.
“Think it's them?” asked Little Joe, kneeling next to him.
“Hope so.”
Kerfer listened. The rain was falling so hard he couldn't be sure of anything.
“Hey,” he said finally, his voice soft. “Goldilocks—this is the Big Bad Wolf. That you?”
 
 
Mara's heart jumped
when she heard the voice on the road.
“I want the identifier,” she said, trying not to drop her guard.
“Fuggit you want ID. I want ID,” answered the voice. Then he added, “Lucas sent me. I have a grocery list.”
“Is eggplant on it?”
“Who the hell comes up with this bullshit?” said Kerfer. “You guys practice to do this?”
“You're Lieutenant Kerfer?” asked Mara.
“Yeah, I'm Kerfer. What about it?”
Mara started down the hill, sliding on the slick grass. Kerfer and one of his men were standing in the muddy stream that marked the shoulder of the road. He flicked on a small penlight, holding it in her direction as she reached the road.
“I've heard about you,” said Mara.
“Yeah, well I never heard anything about you.” Kerfer raised the light, shining it toward her face. “Which is my loss.”
“You're right.”
“They didn't tell me I was rescuing a model,” said Kerfer.
“Flatter me all you want, Lieutenant. Your reputation precedes you.”
She stuck her hand out to shake, not sure what to expect. She
had
heard about Kerfer. He had a reputation for being difficult to get along with and a serious flirt.
“Glad to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand quickly. “You should have some others, right?”
“We're here,” said Josh, coming down the slope with M
.
“And who are you?” Kerfer asked the girl when she got close. He shone the light in her face; she ducked back behind Josh.
“Her name is M
,” said Josh. “She's shy.”
“I have some candy.” Kerfer dug into his pockets and held out an energy bar. M
peered out from behind Josh's leg. “Go ahead, you can take it. I ain't gonna bite you. It's candy.”
M
didn't move. Kerfer told her she could have it in Vietnamese. The girl peeked out tentatively. He tore the side of the package, unwrapping the bar halfway.

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