“Well, shit.”
“Hold on a second,” Renee said. “If he’s going, then I’m going. After all, it’s my team on the ground.”
“I wouldn’t advise that, ma’am, this is going to be nasty. No place for a lady,” the major sneered.
“I don’t give a shit how bad it’s going to be,” Renee said honestly. “If my men are there, then I’m going.”
“Do I have a say in this?” Zeus asked.
“Unfortunately not,” Mr. David said, ignoring the Libyan’s curses.
“So, what’s the big plan?”
“Well, if Renee insists on joining you, the plan is for you three to be dropped off to the north of the objective with a radio and a laser designator. If the colonel or his team is at the objective, you are going to lase the target for a drone strike.”
“A drone, are you serious? Do you know what he did with the last drone we sent after him?”
“We are well aware of his capabilities. We will keep the drone off station until it is time for the strike.”
“That’s a terrible plan. What if they aren’t there, or what if we walk into an ambush and need more than a drone to break contact?” Mason asked.
“If it was easy, everyone would do it,” the major observed.
“Good point. I guess we’ll need some gear.”
CHAPTER 25
There was zero illumination over the landing zone when the Pave Hawk was brought into a hover. The pilot worked the controls with an ease born of thousands of hours, and through the radio he gave the command, “Deploy ropes.”
His copilot craned his neck to the right, catching sight of the infrared ChemLight attached to the free running end of the rope, to ensure that at least fifteen feet remained in contact with the ground.
In the back, the crew chief popped a green ChemLight attached to the top of the rope before pulling down hard. Once he was sure the rope was locked into place, he stepped out of the way and let Renee position herself in the door.
As soon as she disappeared, Zeus stepped up and, after ensuring his rifle was well secured, slid into the darkness.
Mason took his time feeding the rope through his boots. He’d had bad experiences fast-roping in the past, and he didn’t want another broken ankle. Once he was satisfied, he swung out and away from the open door, turning to face the bird as he descended.
The downdraft from the helicopter blades beat against the top of his head, and Mason ignored the urge to grip the rope tightly between his hands. Despite the heavy leather gloves, he could already feel the friction burning his palms, and he was relieved to feel his boots slam onto the ground.
Quickly stepping out of the way, he flipped down his night vision and took a knee. The pitch of the rotors deepened as the pilot brought the helicopter to full power. The heavy rope was released from the rope bar as the helicopter disappeared into the night.
Mason waited for silence to return to the valley before moving. The infil had gone according to plan so far, but he knew they were still vulnerable. Jagged rocks and imposing boulders offered the enemy countless positions, and the lack of moonlight meant that his NODs were almost worthless. He needed to get them moving or risk compromise.
Taking the compass from his chest rig, he shot a quick azimuth to the west before moving up to Renee. Mason had chosen a route that would take them over the mountains and into a position that would allow them to overwatch the valley. Both he and Renee had agreed that the primary target was bullshit. Barnes was too smart to show his hand, and they were working under the assumption that this was an elaborate trap.
“Are we good?” he asked.
“Yeah, take point,” she replied.
Mason stepped off, keeping his eyes open for a way up into the foothills. According to the map, they had more than two kilometers to travel and not a lot of time to get there.
Kevin took a seat on the nylon bench and turned his rifle so that the muzzle was pointed at the floor. The utilitarian interior of the large helicopter wasn’t much to look at, but he’d been in enough Chinooks to know what to expect.
The crew chief checked the exposed hydraulic lines, which ran along the top of the troop compartment, as the gunners loaded their machine guns in preparation for takeoff.
After conducting his final preflight checks, the crew chief moved back to his position on the ramp. Kevin plugged his comms into the onboard radio. The operator watched the man take a seat behind the 240 B mounted to the ramp and snap himself into the helicopter with the thick bungee cord attached to his harness.
The dual-rotored helicopter lurched forward, and Kevin listened to the pilots contact the tower as they moved down the tarmac.
The flight across the border was short and Kevin could feel the “go pills” kick in when the Chinook was fifteen minutes out from the LZ. The amphetamines crept into his blood, filling him with renewed confidence, and by the time the pilot called the five-minute warning, he was ready to go.
The Chinook’s descent caused a slight queasiness in his stomach. The pilot kept the nose up while the gunners poked their heads out of the gun ports and monitored the descent.
Kevin checked his rifle and flipped his NODs down over his eyes before yanking the cable from the comms box. The adrenaline spike that came with every mission caused a familiar tingle in his stomach. It was go time, whether he was ready or not.
The crew chief stood at the ramp as the helo flared and dropped its rear wheels into the high grass of the LZ. By the time Kevin felt the wheels hit the ground, he was already moving toward the ramp. He ducked under the hot exhaust and passed through the blowing dust and grass as he cleared the ramp. Moving out to the six o’clock position, Kevin took a knee about ten yards from the spinning rotors and brought his rifle up.
Behind him the second Chinook came in as the lead helicopter leapt for the sky. He braced himself as the rotors beat the ground and leaned forward against his knee to keep from being pushed over. It took less than a minute to unload both birds and when he looked over his shoulder, he could see both teams arrayed in a tight 360-degree field of fire.
“Let’s move out,” the major said over the radio.
Rico took the point. The tritium dial of his compass glowed green in the darkness, and for a brief instant he could make out his friends’ profile before he snapped the case closed and headed out.
Kevin gave him room before forming his element into a wedge and stepping off. In the center of the two teams, the major was having trouble keeping track of his lead elements and he ordered everyone, “Turn on your IR strobes.” Kevin fumbled with the beacon, which was the size of a box of matches, and after turning it on, stuffed it into his battle shirt pocket.
The blinking lights were invisible to the naked eye, but through night vision, the team flickered like fireflies in the darkness. He imagined Rico grumbling up front as he looked over his shoulder. His teammate had spent most of his army career as a scout sniper and hated having the strobe giving away his position.
The terrain made it extremely difficult to make any real headway, and Mason was sweating through his shirt, despite having gone less than five hundred meters. His sling was already digging into his neck, and his calves burned from fighting against the ridgeline’s gravel-covered edges.
He should have heard the heavy Chinooks by now, and he began to worry that they were moving too slow. Taking a knee in the soft shale, he checked the GPS strapped to his wrist while Renee slipped up behind him.