Unto the Breach

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Sergeant Vanner,” Jeseph, his voice pitched low, “I have found a hide point for the jump gear.”

“Good,” Vanner said, bent over Ivan’s ankle. The shooter was the only one of the five who had managed to find a bad spot to land, a rock he hadn’t seen until the last moment. It looked like it was only a sprain, but it was a bad sprain and they really needed to unass the DZ. Fortunately, Vanner had just gotten done wrapping it. “Julia, you, Jeseph and Olga get started on cacheing the gear then catch up with us. We’re going to get off this DZ. I’ll help Ivan.”

“I can walk,” Ivan said, his face working with pain.

“Yep, and you’re gonna have to,” Vanner said, raising his voice against a rising wind. ” With your ruck. I’ll just be trying to take some of the weight off. Jeseph, give me a hand getting him up and the ruck on his back. Then we’ll move out. Follow the route on your GPS. We’re moving to point 478. We’ll set up camp somewhere around there. And hurry. That storm’s nearly here.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” Jeseph said. The wind threw his parka hood up and he pushed it back, looking around nervously. “This storm is going to be bad, Sergeant. I can smell the snow.”

“ Don’t lose us,” Vanner said. “Walk in through the beginning of the snow if you have to. I’ve got the dome tent, worse comes to worse we can all bed in there.”

“Fortunately, it’s all downhill from here,” Vanner said as they crested the ridgeline. Getting the Keldara up from the small valley that had shielded the DZ from observation had been no joke. “There’s some rocks I spotted on the sat map for a possible assembly area. We’ll take a hide there.”

“I am not sure which is worse,” Ivan said, wincing and grabbing at one of the spindly fir trees that covered the slope. They were right up at the woodline, and the ground was already covered by a thin dusting of snow. Some of it had melted away but there were plenty of patches to slip on in shadow. And they were hard to see with the night vision goggles. Unfortunately, the clouds preceding the storm had already arrived and the night was black as pitch. NVGs were a necessity.

“Uphill,” Vanner said.

He paused and let the Keldara lean on one of the trees then picked up the thermal imager he’d left hanging around his neck and swept the slope below. He’d gotten over the crest as fast as possible and now hunkered down to make sure they were alone in the area. He saw a couple of heat forms, but they had the look of animals. He didn’t see any heat coming from the cluster of boulders and that was the important part.

“Let’s move,” Vanner said, taking Ivan’s arm again.

The Keldara shuffled forward at his maximum safe speed and they began their creep down the ridge.

“Almost there.”

“Careful cresting the ridge,” Jeseph said. “Go across low and sideways. Less silhouette.”

“Okay,” Julia said, sliding forward.

She could barely see anything in the night vision goggles. The lenses had gotten fogged and then frozen so she was looking through a distorted foggy picture. For that matter it was starting to snow, big, thick, flakes. Something about the wind, though, the smell and the size of the flakes told her that it was about to storm like mad. They needed to get to shelter, fast. She slid on a patch of snow and went down on her butt just as she reached the far side of the ridgeline.

“Damn.”

“Up you get,” Jeseph said, lifting her and the pack. “No lieing down on the job. That’s for after your wedding night.”

“Like you’ll ever know, Jeseph Mahona,” Julia said, quietly, but she let loose a half stifled giggle.

“Take a knee,” Jeseph said. “Face east. Olga, west.” He pulled his thermal imagers out and looked down the slope. “There’s the sergeant. They made good time.” He paused and looked around some more. “Nobody else.”

“Then let’s… ” she said just as a gust of wind caught them. The wind tore the words out of her mouth it was so strong and in a second Jeseph, only a meter or two from her, disappeared in a wall of snow.

“Julia!” Jeseph screamed.

“Stay there!” Julia yelled back. This wasn’t just a snow fall, this was a blizzard, one of the fast moving ones of the early winter. The snow might all thaw tomorrow but tonight it was going to drop a ton. And they were caught in the middle of it. She had been living in these mountains her whole life but she’d never been this far from any shelter as she was right now. One of her cousins had been caught out in a storm like this and died. They had to get to Vanner and get some shelter set up. Or, possibly, just set it up right here, she wasn’t sure which. She suddenly realized, to her horror, that the decision was hers.

She shuffled in the direction she remembered Jeseph being in and felt his body through the thick gloves. At that range, even through her fogged glasses, she could see him.

“Olga?” she shouted in his ear.

“There!” Jeseph said, pointing then looking through the thermal imagers. “Yes, there!”

“Go!”

Olga had hunkered down and waited. Smart girl.

“Thought we’d lost you for a second,” Julia yelled.

“I was going to give you twenty minutes,” Olga yelled back. “What now, Jeseph?”

“We move,” Julia yelled.

“Agreed,” Jeseph replied. “Julia’s call and I agree. We have the GPS, we have the thermal imager. We can find them.”

“Jeseph, you lead,” Julia said. “I’ll take the GPS. Olga, check me. Hold onto my pack, I’ll hold Jeseph’s. Let’s roll!”

“I’ve got it, Ivan,” Vanner shouted. “You just keep checking for the rest of the team.”

“We could call,” Ivan yelled.

“Not on your life!” Vanner shouted. “We’d have to broadcast. Now shut up and watch!”

Vanner had set up a dome tent before, but never on solid rock and in a howling blizzard. He’d gotten the damned thing unrolled but it had nearly been snatched out of his hands twice so far. If they lost it it would have a number of bad consequences starting with the possibility of the Chechens finding it and continuing through “lack of shelter.”

He finally managed to get one side tied off to one of the boulders that they were sheltered in. With that side tied off he could manage it better. One bit of ground would take a stake. Another tie off. Finally he got all six points anchored and added a couple of anchors, groping through the driving snow, to make sure it stayed in place.

That done he started threading the poles. The snow was piling up so fast he nearly lost one of them but groping finally dredged it up. When the last one was stuffed into the loops and the tent up he grabbed his pack and tossed it inside then went to approximately where he recalled Ivan being.

“It’s up!”

“I still don’t see them,” Ivan shouted back.

“They’ll make it or they won’t,” Vanner said. “They’ve got gear for this, too. We need to get in the tent!”

Vanner got Ivan up and over to where he recalled the tent being. But it wasn’t there.

“Oh, tell me it didn’t already blow away,” Vanner said then shook his head. He’d tossed his pack in it on purpose. It had to be here somewhere.

He and Ivan shuffled forward carefully and then Vanner sprawled on the ground, fortunately not taking Ivan with him.

“Found one of the tie-downs!” Vanner yelled. He felt along the tiedown and then saw the ghostly outline of the tent. “Here!”

When they were finally inside, Vanner let out a breath of relief.

“Safe, by God.”

“Sergeant,” Ivan said, diffidently. “My pack is back where you found me. I only say that because it has my fartsack in it. I don’t think you want to share.”

“Fuck.”

Jeseph saw the boulder before he hit it with his nose, but only just.

“What?” Julia yelled.

“I think we’re there,” Jeseph said, scanning with the thermal imagers. It seemed to him that the picture had gotten dimmer, but it might be the snow. “I don’t see them, though.”

“Move into them,” Julia said, trying to look around through the spotty NVGs. “They have to be here somewhere!”

“They could have gotten lost as well,” Olga noted helpfully.

They wandered into the rock pile and after tripping several times and nearly slipping off a boulder they hadn’t even realized they were climbing Julia let out an exasperated sigh.

“Where are they?”

“I don’t know,” Jeseph yelled back. “But we have to do something!”

“We make camp,” Julia said after a moment. “Try to find a reasonably flat spot! We’ll put up one of the tunnel tents! We need to find somewhere to tie it off!”

“Where am I going to sleep?” Jeseph yelled.

“What happens on the mission… ”

“The wind has died,” Jeseph said, nudging Vanner.

“I noticed,” Vanner said, quietly. It was what had awakened him.

He and Ivan had taken two hour shifts, sleeping and waking, hoping against hope that the rest of the team would show up. It was pre-dawn and the howling blizzard had finally started to die. Now if the rest of the team just hadn’t. But, they were smart and had nearly as good gear. The only difference was they had the tunnel tents.

Vanner kicked at the front of the tent where he could see snow had mounded up and then stuck his head out. The snow was still falling thickly but mostly straight down. It had dropped about a foot and a half overnight, with more drifted up against the rocks. The tent had a drift up against the side and front that was nearly three feet thick.

Vanner looked around cautiously then ducked back in and pulled out his NVGs.

“Nothing,” he said quietly.

“They might still be on the back-trail,” Ivan said, just as quietly.

Vanner sighed and shrugged on his heavy coat; he’d kept most of the rest of the gear on. The temperature had dropped precipitously but he left the balaklava and hood down. He needed his ears as well as his eyes.

He slid out of the tent, negotiating the snowpack, and stood up with the snow up to his waist. Another look around with the NVGs then he reached in and pulled out the thermals. Looking on the backtrail he couldn’t see any sign of the team.

“Fuck,” he muttered. He did not want to broadcast.

He walked back the way they’d come, stumbling over Ivan’s pack in the process. He’d dragged it over to the tent, gotten out the Keldara’s rucksack and then left it near the entrance. It was so covered in snow he hadn’t seen it until he tripped over it.

“Found your ruck,” he called, turning around.

“I was wondering when you’d look behind you,” Julia said, grinning. She had a set of thermals hanging around her neck.

“How’d you get past us?” Vanner asked.

“I really have no idea,” Julia admitted with another grin. “But I’m just about standing on our tent. We’re set up about three meters from each other.”

“Our tent?” Vanner said. “Where’s Jeseph?”

“Asleep,” Julia said. “In the tent. With Olga.”

“With… ”

“Hey, don’t ask, don’t tell… ”

Kacey drove the Hind down the twisting river valley so close to the surface that the rotors were kicking up spray on the banks.

“Hoo-rah!” she shouted.

“I don’t think Dominik is keeping up,” Marek said, a grin in his voice. “Drive it, girl.”

They were in the second day of the ferry flight and, given that they were making good time, Marek had declared a one hour game of hide and seek. Kacey was given a box she had to stay in and a three minute head start. The kicker was that it wasn’t Tammie driving the search bird, it was Dominick, the other IP.

“This is like flying a fucking Kiowa,” Kacey said. “These things used to be pigs. This is awesome.”

“We are low,” Marek pointed out. “The air is thick. Higher… less maneuverability.”

“Got that,” Kacey said, glancing in the rearview. “I still don’t have him.”

“Twenty minutes until we’re done with the exercise,” Marek said. “But he’s not necessarily following. He could have cut one of the bends.”

“Yeah,” Kacey replied, looking ahead. There was a fork in the river that went left. “Marek, what’s the chart say about that turn?”

“Narrow,” Marek said, tersely. “But still inside the box. Want me to take it?”

“My bird,” Kacey said, banking into the tributary. She instantly recognized that it was much narrower than the main river: the trees that overhung it barely cleared her rotor cone. “Crap.”

“As I said. Narrow.”

Kacey pulled the helo into an in-ground-effect hover and looked forward. The damned channel only got narrower. Looking up she realized she’d drifted under the trees in slowing; the branches now extended over her rotor cone.

“Double crap. Marek?”

“Your bird, hotshot,” the IP said, easily.

No way to go up. No way to turn around. No way to go forward. That only left two choices; ditching the bird in the river or backing up. Of course, the channel twisted slightly so it wasn’t exactly straight back. Fortunately, Hinds had a rear-view mirror.

She pulled back on the stick and tilted the rotor gently to the rear. The increased angle had her chipping some branch-tips, but nothing unsurvivable.

Backing down to the joining she got enough room she could go up or turn around. So she carefully spun in place then looked at the main river. The other Hind had a five hundred foot maximum so they could run down the river at height, looking for them. But they couldn’t just perch like a falcon.

Which gave her an idea.

“Kacey?” Marek said as the helicopter started sliding backwards. “Where are we going?”

“Under the trees,” Kacey said. The trees were evergreens; there was some solid concealment to be had. With the gray-green camouflage of the Hind, they would be hard to spot.

“Okay,” Marek said. “Your bird.”

“And now… we wait,” Kacey said as she reached the spot she’d been “stuck” in before. She could see the main river, barely, through a small gap in the trees. They were making a hell of a signature but that would be, partially, masked by the trees.

Sure enough, about ten minutes later, Tammie’s Hind came sniffing down the river about a hundred feet up. But the trees and the camouflage of the Hind kept them from noticing the bird hidden two hundred meters up the tributary, despite the massive “signature” from their rotors. She’d have thought they’d notice the waving treetops at the very least.

“Very nice,” Marek said. “I would have stayed higher.”

“They probably did and couldn’t see us,” Kacey said. “This river was the only place to hide. So we had to be on it, right? Start at one end, go to the other and trap us at that end of the box. Nobody would be stupid enough to come up this tributary.”

“If it’s stupid and it works… ”

“It’s not stupid,” Kacey said, sliding the bird forward.

The other Hind had continued up the river so it was out of sight when she got to the joining. She pivoted to look up-river and then popped up. Sure enough, there they were, just going around the bend to the right.

She dropped down and slid out into the main river, sidling towards the opposite treeline and then popping up again. The Hinds had a rear-view but there was a solid blind-spot at about four and seven o’clock. Only by craning way over could you see into it. As planned, she was right on Dominick’s four o’clock. She pivoted again and flew along side them, keeping more or less parallel, in the four o’clock position and sidling closer. When she was about a hundred meters away she pivoted again so she was pointed right at them and pushed the bird as hard to the side as it would go so that she had her nose pointed right at them as she came into peripheral vision.

Tammie, scanning left and right, was the first one to see her and she shook her head and said something in the intercom.

“Where in the hell did you come from?” Dominick said over the radio. The disgust was clear in his voice.

“I’m a woman,” Kacey replied. “We’re tricky. Ask any guy.”

“I still want to know where you went,” Dominick said, picking at his fish.

They’d continued down through Ukraine and stopped at a small airport near Yalta on the Black Sea. Tomorrow was the last day of the ferry, a short overwater hop into Russian airspace, one refueling in Russia hopping down the Black Sea coast and then cut into Georgia near the port of Sokhumi. After that it was free-sailing.

“How’s it feel to want?” Kacey said with a grin. “Seriously, I was hiding. If I tell you where I was hiding, it ruins the fun. And it was probably Tammie’s fault anyway. She was the one that was supposed to be looking for us.”

“Hey!”

“Ah then, I am satisfied,” Dominick replied. “As long as my delicate pilot ego isn’t damaged.”

“You still got your ass kicked by a girl,” Marek pointed out.

“Yeah?” Dominick replied. “Then tomorrow I will have you try to find Tammie. See whose ass gets kicked then!”

“Hey, Marek,” Kacey said as the pilot opened the door to his room.

The Kildar had paid top billing for the training and hadn’t stinted on the travel budget; the pilots didn’t have to share. And the small seaside resort they’d found was more than willing to provide lodging; the hotel was practically empty.

“Kacey,” Marek replied, raising an eyebrow.

“I was going to say that I wanted to go over something in the -1s, but why be coy?” Kacey asked. “Frankly, I’m really hoping you’re straight. I didn’t see a wedding ring and hard flying always makes me horney.”

“No ring, no wife, please come in,” Marek said, stepping back. “I am very much ‘straight.’ ”

“You’re a good cook,” Gregor grunted, spooning up the stew.

“Thank you,” Dr. Arensky said, scraping up the last of his and taking the bowl to the sink.

They had settled into a routine. Arensky cooked and cleaned. Gregor sat in the corner most of the time apparently asleep. But if Arensky went near the door, his eyes flickered open. When Arensky had to have a call of nature Gregor would lead him outside to the nasty, stinking, spider-filled outhouse that provide relief. The house at least had running water and a kitchen sink, but no indoor shitter.

They had been provided with food, cans of potted meat and vegetables as well as some old bread that had seen better days. Coaxing decent meals out of the stuff had been tough.

“Since my wife died, I’ve done most of the cooking for Marina and I,” Arensky continued, slipping the bowl into the sink. He lifted the cloth cover on a bowl by the sink and nodded at the mess within.

“What is that stuff?” Gregor asked. “I looked at it the other day. It’s… crap.”

“It’s not ‘crap,’ ” Arensky replied. “Do you know what makes the alcohol in vodka?”

“No,” Gregor admitted.

“Yeast,” the microbiologist replied. “A microorganism that excretes alcohol as the same sort of biproduct as urea, the stuff that makes the strong ammonia smell, in human urine. So what you’re drinking is, in effect, yeast piss.”

“Ugh,” Gregor said, dropping his own dish in the sink. Arensky also did the washing up. “Thanks so much for pointing that out. I’m never going to look at another bottle of vodka the same again.”

“But yeast is only the best known of many microorganisms used in food preparation,” Arensky continued. “Cheese is produced from a mold, several strains in fact. It is, basically, spoiled milk. Yogurt is the same. These are similar microorganisms. I’m attempting to capture some of them for… piquancy. They can be used as a spice, in other words. The problem, of course, is spotting the right ones without special tools. Fortunately, I am very experienced in doing so. Hopefully, I can get a crop of fistanula going. That will add a dash of tanginess to the next soup.”

“That is really weird,” Gregor said, chuckling.

“I’m bored,” Arensky said. “As your hands are your main purpose in life, my mind is mine. I have nothing to read, no TV to watch, no internet to surf and no experiments to conduct. So I find experiments where I can. This is the sort of thing I did when I was in grammar school. I made my first cheese, from a raw native culture, when I was nine. It’s a way to pass the time.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Gregor said with a shrug. “No harm in a little mold… ”