It would be a bitch for him to get the downed chopper working if there was a serious problem with it. And if something went wrong with Apache One on the way, they would be truly fucked.
The colonel had promised at least two more technicians; Hawkins decided to open the line to Al Jouf and find out if they were coming. He gave Colonel Klee the good news first— the Blue and Green teams had reported in; two Scud erectors and missiles had been smashed overnight.
“So how are we getting our helo back?” said the colonel.
“We’ll get it,” said Hawkins. “Am I getting those mechanics?”
“You have a runway yet?”
“In two hours, I’ll have fifteen hundred feet.”
“Too short.”
“Can you send a Pave Low?”
“Not this morning, no way. Maybe tonight or tomorrow night, if then.”
“Too long,” said Hawkins. “If you have the mechanics, parachute them in.”
“In daylight?”
“I’ll take the risk,” said Hawkins. “I’m not sure about getting the helo fixed without them.”
“It’s not yours to take. I’m also not crazy about breaking someone else’s leg.”
“Do a tandem if they’re not jump-qualified.”
“Easier said than done.”
“But you do have the mechanics?”
“I said I’m working on it.”
Hawkins frowned but said nothing. The colonel clearly didn’t have anyone.
“We should have a BDA report on the mountain bunker in an hour or. I’ll get back to you. Sit tight until I do.”
CHAPTER 58
Dixon carried Leteri a few hundred yards until they were sure they weren’t being followed. Leteri managed to do fairly well the rest of the way on his own, though they had to stop a dozen times. The last time Dixon didn’t think he’d be able to get going again; it was the wounded Leteri who actually pulled him to his feet and gave him a push to help him along.
Dixon told Leteri about the bombing raid. Leteri told him about the action at the Cornfield. An explosion, probably a mortar shell, had knocked the sergeant unconscious. He had a hazy memory of the Hogs attacking and the second chopper appearing, but he had blacked out again in there somewhere. When he finally regained his senses he was near the downed Little Bird. He had no idea how he’d managed to drag himself there, since it was quite some distance from where he’d been hit. When he heard the Iraqis fiddling with the truck, he went and hid in the creek. He had heard Dixon challenge the Iraqi soldier.
“I didn’t challenge him,” Dixon said. “Hell, I almost shook his hand, thinking he was you.”
“Then you killed him.”
“Yeah.”
Leteri paused. “First time?”
For a moment Dixon didn’t answer. “Well, I got that helicopter when the air war started. Those guys probably died, too. Except, you know, I didn’t think about it. I was flying. I never really saw them. Not as people.”
“First time for me today, too,” said Leteri quietly.
Dixon thought about the look in the man’s face for only a second, then banished it, concentrating on keeping his momentum up. He felt as if a fire had started in the back of his head; it burned there to keep him going. His hunger was gone and he was beyond feeling numb or tired. His gut had grown raw with the will of survival.
“How are we going to take that bunker out if the bombs didn’t?” Leteri asked as they got closer.
“I don’t know that we are.”
“We have to somehow.”
“Yeah.” Dixon walked silently. They were about a quarter of a mile from the road, on the opposite side from Sugar Mountain. He was more worried about traffic finding them than doing anything about the shelter. There was plenty of light and they had little cover on this side of the road.
“What do you think?” Leteri asked. “The grenade launcher?”
“Grenade’s not going through that door. Turk said the C-4 wouldn’t even take it out. Besides, we got other problems.”
“Captain’ll come for us, if that’s what you’re thinking. I know Hawkins. He won’t give up. And neither will our colonel. He’s a prick, but he’s a good prick.”
About a half mile from the quarry, they rested at a small group of rocks a few yards from the highway. Dixon paused for only a second, rocking his body back and forth.
“I’m going to go scout the quarry,” he told Leteri. “There’s a back way up to the sergeant a few yards ahead. I’ll make sure it’s clear.”
“I’m gonna come,” said Leteri. “My side doesn’t hurt as much as it did.”
“Better to hang here,” Dixon told him. “There’s a hell of a lot of climbing this way, and if you go the other way, you’ll be in full view of anything that comes down the road.”
“I’ll be all right.”
Dixon examined the H&K. The fire in his head was burning steadily now; his eyes had narrowed their focus the way they did in the last few seconds on a bomb run in a Hog. “You stay here,” he said. “I’ll be back. Take the morphine if the pain gets too much.”
Without waiting for Leteri to answer, Dixon began trotting toward the highway, clutching the small submachine gun close to his side. The sun had started to warm the air. For a second, he felt as if he were running along the beach at his town lake, trotting for an ice cream or maybe back to the car for the stereo.
Then he heard the rattle of a truck. He dashed across the highway and headed for the back of the hill where he’d left Sergeant Winston. As he did, a small pickup truck crowded with soldiers appeared from the direction of Sugar Mountain, kicking up dust and skidding to a stop across the middle of the road. Dixon threw himself face first behind the rocks, his heart lost somewhere in the dirt as the soldiers jumped out and took up positions all along the highway, less than ten yards away.
CHAPTER 59
Even though the tent was empty, it was hardly private; anyone could walk in at any time. And yet she couldn’t control herself. For her entire military service, Rebecca A. Rosen she had steeled herself against exactly this open vulnerability and nakedness. But she was helpless now, sitting on the edge of the cot and shaking like a windup toy.
There were no tears at least, or hardly any. But the shaking was nearly as bad. It wasn’t as if there was anything between her and Lieutenant Dixon, anything more than a few kisses stolen at random moments. He might not even remember who she was.
That was nonsense. Of course he did. But he wouldn’t think anything of it, or at least he would be surprised, maybe shocked, to see her like this.
And yet she couldn’t stop.
I’m a useless blob, she told herself. She pulled her arms across her chest Stop. This wasn’t helping him. It wasn’t helping anyone.
But she kept shaking until she managed to think about the capo di capo.
That brought her back to center. Sergeant Clyston was the closest thing to a father she’d ever had. He was closer to her than her mother, even.
Rosen saw Clyston’s face now in the tent, the way he would cock his head at her and push his lower lip tight against the top. “F-ing hell,” he’d say. “Rosen, get your butt in gear and see what needs to be done,” he say.