The Devil's Footprint (61 page)

Once the
valley was blocked, the hostiles could pick off the Guntracks at their leisure.

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Reiko Oshima
felt excited as she rarely had before as her armored column thundered toward
the Funnel.

There was the
roar of the tank engine and the smell of oil and the wind against her face and
the exhilaration of speed, and she felt, for the first time since this fracas
had started, that she was going to end up on the winning side.

The helicopter
pilot had delivered.
 
She now knew that
she was dealing with some kind of high-speed tracked vehicle and that there
were four in the dust clouds off to the right.

They were
obviously the advance guard.
 
Given the
scale of the damage that had been inflicted so far, it was clear that a larger
force was involved, and she estimated that there
were
probably a further twenty or so following behind.
 
Allowing four people to a vehicle crew — she
thought commander, gunner, loader and driver per tank — that suggested an
overall enemy force of about a hundred.
 
That seemed to make sense.
 
It
also suggested that they would leave their vehicles behind when they evacuated
or else that deserted strip at Arkono was going to be a busy little place for a
while.

The important
thing was that she had called it right.
 
She had guessed the enemy's intentions and now she was beating this
hostile force to the punch.
 
The enemy
tracks were faster, that was sure, but her force was ahead and was going to get
there first.

And then there
would be a killing ground.
 
Retribution.

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*

Fitzduane knew
that this would be the last time that Team Rapier would be together, and for a
brief moment he felt unaccountably sad and tired but also immensely proud.

There were few
things more satisfying than to command a combat unit at its peak, and the
people of Team Rapier had been the best, the very best.
 
And now it was almost over, this courageous,
audacious adventure, and he felt regret.

The moment
passed.
 
The immediate pressed on him.

"Shadow
One to all," he said on the unit net, "Shadow Three will remain with
me and fight the hostile column to a halt.
 
Shadows Two and Five will head on through the Funnel and will evac.
 
Shadow Three will join if possible.

"Move!
 
Move!
 
Move!"

Cochrane
brought Shadow One to a halt and lowered the rear air springs, while Al
Lonsdale loaded a six-round clip into the Dilger and aligned the laser
sight.
 
After the noise and buffeting of
the high-speed advance, to be still and silent on this vast undulating space
seemed strange.

Off to the
right, Shadow Three advanced toward the column, firing on the move with its .50
GECAL.
 
Its job was to draw fire while
Fitzduane's vehicle killed tanks.
 
Only
the Dilger could do that with certainty at this range.

The two other
Guntracks sped into the distance.
 
Both
vehicles were overloaded and carrying wounded and really in no condition to
fight unless there was no other option.
 
Shadow Two carried Chifune, Geronimo Grady, and Dana Felton as crew,
together with the wounded Chuck Freeman and the drugged Kathleen and Steve
Kent's body.
 
Shadow Five carried Oga,
Brick Stephens, and Ross Gallini, with Ernesto Robles and Calvin injured.

Al Lonsdale's
night-vision equipment pierced the darkness and aligned the Dilger on the lead
tank.

He fired.

A tongue of
flame jetted from the muzzle and the whole Guntrack rocked with the recoil.

Two seconds
later he fired again, and then kept on firing until he had exhausted a second
clip.
 
The
second clip.

Twelve rounds.
 
The
Dilger was now out of ammunition.

"Move!
 
Move!
 
Move!" said Fitzduane,
and Cochrane started raising the air springs and roared away.
 
The springs completed their adjustment on the
move.

Two seconds
after they had left their firing position, tank shells plowed into the
evacuated space, and rock and shale fountained into the air.

*
         
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There was a
crack and Oshima's tank, roaring forward at full speed, suddenly lurched to the
left, lost forward momentum, and started rotating on its own axis.

The driver's
hatch opened and he leaned over the right side of the tank,
then
looked up at Reiko Oshima.
 
"We've
been hit.
 
The track's gone and we're a
sitting target.
 
We'd better get
out."

Oshima drew
her pistol and shot him in the head, then pointed the gun at the gunner.
 
"Does the tank still work?"

He nodded.

"Well,
then stay here and fight the tank or you'll join that coward."

The loader
slammed in an HE round and the gunner rotated the turret and fired.
 
Oshima could see the flash of the impact
explosion in the distance.

The infrared
searchlight shattered as machine-gun rounds hit it.
 
A further burst spanged off the armor.

Oshima hauled
herself out of the turret and looked for a replacement tank.
 
She was appalled at what she saw.
 
The powerful column of nineteen armored
vehicles that had followed her was now strewn with flaming and exploding
vehicles, and as she watched, there was a row of small explosions in the ground
as if a machine gun was being hosed onto a target and then an armored personnel
carrier in the direct line of fire blew up.

Burning
figures ran into the darkness and collapsed, and the air was rent with screams.

A hundred
meters away, a T55 fired its main gun and then reversed.
 
She ran after it, waving.

An armored
personnel carrier was spraying the darkness with its heavy machine gun.
 
The gunner could see nothing because his
infrared searchlight had been shot out, but he fired steadily until the
ammunition box ran out.
 
Incoming
machine-gun fire caught him as he was attempting a barrel change and blew out
his throat.

A black shape
shot out of the darkness and there was an enormous explosion from the armored
carrier, and a huge hole appeared in its side as if it had been hit by an
artillery shell.

Two tanks
maneuvering in opposite directions collided, then the commander's hatches
opened and the two commanders started swearing at each other.

An explosive
grenade hit one commander and blew his torso into pieces, showering the second
man with blood and body parts.
 
He
dropped back into his cupola, banged the hatch shut, and reversed rapidly.

The air seemed
to be full of flying metal.
 
Oshima had
never seen anything like it.
 
This was
not conventional machine-gun and cannon fire but some other, much more lethal,
system.

Now she was
beginning to understand how her base, with all its armor and security, had been
overcome so quickly.

A tank roared
past her, tracks churning, and she fell back, terrified.
 
The stars were fading.
 
It would be dawn soon.

She heard the
heavy throb of an armored personnel carrier and looked up.
 
The vehicle stopped and the commander looked
down.

Somehow he
looked familiar.
 
A red map light illuminated
his face from below.
 
That was
ironic.
 
The face was that of Major
Khalifa Sherrif, the ‘hero’ who could not navigate.
 
Life, she thought, was a joke; a sick
joke.
 
It was a pity she had not
understood this sooner.

The Major
looked away and shouted a command.

The Major's
armored personnel carrier accelerated, leaving Oshima alone in the desert.

*
         
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The evacuating
Guntracks roared through the Funnel and on to the airstrip.

Behind them
there was the sound and fury of the firefight, and each person's thoughts were
with the rear guard as they battled.

Ten minutes
later, Shadow Three disengaged on Fitzduane's instructions and joined the two
other Guntracks.
 
Less than a minute
later, alerted by radio, Kilmara's C130 Combat Talon swooped in and taxied to a
halt, the ramp already almost down.

Immediately,
the three Guntracks drove on board and the Combat Talon, with the ramp still
open, took off and headed out of Tecuno-controlled airspace at
contour-following height, electronic-warfare systems fully operational.
 
Tecuno wavebands were a mass of activity, and
they could hear jet fighters being vectored into the search area.
 
Timing was critical.
 
They would have more than eighty minutes'
exposure before the fighter threat would be over.

Kilmara hated
the abrupt departure with Fitzduane and the crew of Shadow One still on the
ground, but every second spent in the area increased the chance of detection
and his first priority was the safety of the aircraft and crew and passengers.

It was now up
to the guts and ingenuity of Fitzduane and his remaining team on the ground,
the flying skills of Eagle Friend, and a quite extraordinary device known as
Skyhook or the Fulton Rescue System.

And there were
also the moves of the enemy to consider.

Shadow One had
been located, and the noose would be tightening by the second.

*
         
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Fitzduane felt
dazed and disoriented, and he could not see and he felt rising panic.

He fought for
control.
 
Where was he?
 
What had happened?
 
He put his hand to his face.
 
It was wet and sticky.
 
Shit!
 
He was bleeding from a gash in his forehead.
 
He staggered to his feet and splashed some
water from his belt water-bottle on his face and washed the blood from his
eyes.

He could
see!
 
The relief was intense.
 
He could feel the rush of fear receding and
his self-confidence reestablishing itself.

Shadow
One
lay on its side about twenty yards away.
 
One track was missing and there was a huge
hole in the rear engine compartment through which diesel was leaking.
 
They had been hit but they had been
lucky.
 
Or had they?
 
It was then that he noticed Lee
Cochrane.
 
He was bent over Al Lonsdale,
who lay motionless on the ground.

Fitzduane
began to remember what had happened.
 
They had chewed up the advancing armored column with some success thanks
to Dilger's Baby, night-vision equipment, and some seriously aggressive
tactics.
 
They then had disengaged.
 
Shadow Three had headed on to the airstrip
and Shadow One had made it to the Funnel.

He recalled
the Guntrack roaring down the Funnel to where it narrowed, and then suddenly
everything had gone blank.

Ahead of him
he saw a Combat Talon climb into the night sky and then recede into the
distance.

The sight was
like a physical blow, and again there was that feeling of fear.

He went over
to Cochrane.
 
"How is he?" he
said, looking at Lonsdale.

"Concussed,
I think," said Cochrane.
 
"I
can't find any external wound."
 
He
held up something.
 
"Here are your
NVGs.
 
They got ripped off when you
screwed up your landing, Hugo."

Fitzduane
started to raise his eyebrows in surprise, but they seemed to be stuck in
place.
 
Cochrane was in his element.
 
This was a man who had found himself.

The goggles
still worked.
 
Fitzduane started to feel
generally more optimistic.
 
Half the
Tecuno army might be on their tail, but at least he could find his way around
and, truth to tell, their thermal viewers and passive night vision had given
them an incredible edge over the opposition, so it was nice to hang on to some
of the equipment.
 
There was still some
serious work to do.

He looked down
the valley.
 
In the distance, roughly
halfway down the valley, he could see vehicles burning.
 
Cochrane saw his look and grinned.