"We could try to get back to the Land Cruiser. We have a couple of marking grenades stashed in the rear. Doesn't look like they detonated with the RPG hits. Might get us across," Sergei said.
Daniel gave this a few microseconds of thought, but dismissed it just as quickly. The wind swept east to west and would not laterally cover their north to south route. Plus, the marking grenades didn't generate the same amount of smoke as a standard screening grenade. It would put out enough red smoke to be easily spotted by a passing aircraft, but would not adequately obscure their passage. Still, it might come to this. Daniel ran the remaining option through his head. None of them looked good.
In all of the noise and confusion, nobody lying along the road heard the armed MQ-1 Predator drone pass overhead. It also went unobserved by everyone inside the village.
Major David Adler pulled back gently on the joystick, sending "Crabby Girl" upward to gain another 1000 feet of altitude for its initial attack run. Everyone in the Ground Control Station (GCS) in Kyrgyzstan was nervous about this flight. First, the fact that they had been abruptly awoken at one thirty in the morning and handed a last minute CIA mission didn't sit well with any of the three Air Force personnel. Learning twenty minutes later that the Predator drone had been fitted with two AGM-114 Hellfire missiles made them even more nervous. Nobody inside the air-conditioned, camouflaged metal box sitting next to the main runway had previously flown a live armed mission.
The crew stationed at Manas had previously flown routine reconnaissance missions in support of Tajikistan/Afghanistan border tightening measures. Major Adler hadn't even been aware that the base stored Hellfire missiles. To put it mildly, the "pucker factor" was high in the GCS, and Sergeant Juan Salazar had almost walked off the mission when they were given the initial flight path vector: north into Kazakhstan airspace. Only one of Staff Sergeant Kelly McIntyre's patented pep talks kept him in his seat.
All of them nearly stormed out of the GCS when the flight's operational commander, CIA Assistant Counter-Terrorism Director Karl Berg, gave them the final coordinates of the Predator's "bullpen." The holding area was located 535 miles into Kazakhstan airspace. In another 30 to 40 miles, "Crabby Girl," named affectionately in honor of Salazar's opinionated six-year-old daughter, would cross its Point of No Return.
The drone had a maximum range of 675 miles and needed to return to base shortly if it were to be landed safely. Clearly, this was not part of the CIA's plan. Now they'd be the "crew" that lost a Predator drone. None of them needed this kind of shit, but they didn't have the authority to abandon the mission. The door to the GCS was sealed, and Berg had been given legitimate command over the mission by their superiors. They all settled in for the steaming shit sandwich they had been served, which only seemed to get tastier every time Berg's voice came over the secure communications link.
"Do we even know who we're firing at?" Tech Sergeant Salazar said.
"It doesn't matter," McIntyre replied, adjusting the laser designator's screen resolution.
She wouldn't have a lot of time to acquire the best target cluster to help the friendly ground unit, so she opened the aperture for the multi-spectral targeting system. This would give her a wide view when the Predator reached the apex of Hesselman's climb and started to descend.
"Exactly," Hesselman said, "the friendly unit is under fire. We're under orders to provide them with close air support. Here we go, coming out of the climb…and, three, two, one…over the top."
McIntyre studied the screen and immediately switched to thermal imaging, once she had positively identified and marked the friendlies. Any other thermal signatures were valid targets. She just hoped the firefight had cleared the village of any remaining innocent bystanders.
Daniel risked a glance at the western village and saw several slightly exposed targets. With well-aimed shots from his rifle, he knew he could hit them. Unfortunately, the incoming rifle fire had become extremely accurate, preventing him from raising his AK-74 above road level to fire anything more than a hastily aimed burst. He hunkered back down along with the rest of the team. Even Farrington wouldn't risk more than a quick shot. They had lost what little initiative they had managed to muster in the face of a sudden ambush and had stalled out along the road, unable to press forward without certain catastrophic casualties. Daniel had started to reconsider the marking grenade option, when a shattering explosion rattled the ground and sent a shock wave over the road.
"Something big hit them…let's go!" Farrington yelled and wasted no time starting to sprint toward the structures directly ahead of them.
A second massive explosion rocked the outskirts of the western village, just as Daniel started to sprint with the rest of his team. Amazingly, Dusty managed to sprint past him before they closed half the distance to their destination. The volume of incoming fire dropped to nothing as they expended all of their remaining energy and lung capacity reserves to reach the concrete structures.
By the time Daniel's shoulder slammed against the closest wall, Farrington and Sergei had started firing single, well aimed shots through the red dot sights on their assault rifles. They quickly spread out through the cluster of crudely built, Soviet style bungalows. Leo had bent over one of the dead attackers that Daniel had killed minutes earlier.
Daniel slid along the wall to Farrington's crouched figure and swung his rifle around the same corner, staying upright. Their attackers had rallied quickly after the massive explosions, and there was no time to scan the sky for their air support. It didn't matter anyway, since they all knew that the Predator only carried two missiles. Still, if they could get in touch with the operator, they might be able to get some live intelligence about the attacking force. They were in much better shape now that they had reached the cover of these buildings, but they were far from being out of the woods.
Daniel spotted a target issuing hand signal orders and placed the illuminated red arrow tip at the base of the man's face. He pulled the trigger twice and saw the rust colored mist fill the air behind the man. He rapidly sighted in on another exposed soldier several feet to the left of the fallen squad leader. Before the soldier could react to the gruesome death that had just transpired a few feet away, Daniel fired again, hitting him center of mass and sending him sprawling into the dirt. The next target he found through his ACOG scope took multiple hits to the upper torso before Daniel could squeeze off a shot.
"Quit hogging shots," Daniel said, as a half-dozen bullets slammed into the concrete corner, spraying them with sharp fragments.
"Quit running your suck hole and keep shooting," Farrington replied, without the slightest hint of comedy.
He sighted along the low wall that had housed several shooters before the Hellfire missile impact and found the top of a head several meters down from the smoldering gap caused by a single AGM-114 Hellfire. The head stayed low, bobbing slowly back and forth…barely visible through Daniel's scope. He took a deep breath and exhaled, steadying the scope's red targeting arrow just a hair above the head. He didn't consciously squeeze the trigger. His right index finger had instinctively and uniformly removed nearly all of the trigger's pressure as the red arrow floated where Daniel thought he should take the shot. He never registered the command to continue squeezing the trigger, it just happened as naturally as taking a breath. The 5.45mm bullet took less than a tenth of a second to cross the gap and missed the top of the wall by less than a half-inch, reaching the man's head unhindered. He saw the head rise quickly and drop out of view.