Whiskey Delta – Chapter 36

“You know how they say you only hurt the ones you love? Well, it works both ways.”

- Chuck Palahniuk

They wandered out from the tree line and spotted the Stryker. Whitman and Kobayashi saw them coming and ran to meet them.

“Sarge? What the fuck!”

Whitman’s eyes went wide at the sight of Dezba’s… situation. His reaction was just slightly less dramatic when he saw Braun limping along with Saunder next to him, a decapitated head in his hand.

“Holy shit, is that-?”

“Private, get the biohazard bag,” ordered Saunders.

“Yes… ma’am,” he said in her direction, then looked back at Braun. “Sir, what about the chopper?”

“Do as she says, Private. We’ll worry about that later.”

Whitman nodded and ran for the back of the vehicle. Kobayashi traded place with him and offered to help Saunders. They did an awkward dance as they tried to negotiate what would be done with the head.

“Oh Jesus,” she said, taking it from Braun’s right hand and holding it at arm’s length. Passing Braun onto Kobayashi’s significantly larger shoulder was then easy. She waited by the side while the big man helped him to the rear of the vehicle, waited for Whitman to clear it before bringing him inside.

He sat him down next to Dezba. The other three were eying them both carefully and fearfully. Their suits were still singed and and their faces looked burnt. Dezba did his best to hid the stump too. No sense in letting them witness the full horror of what they’d been through. Braun was also thankful for the lengths they were going to to bag the head outside. Any sight of it would probably send them into a fit again.

Kobayashi was still on hand and tending to the both of them. Grabbing his med kit, he produced two vials of hydromorphone and proceeded to administer the first to Dezba. Popping the cap, he slammed it into the side of his leg, where the Kevlar didn’t cover. He moved to Braun next.

“No way, not me.”

“Sir, you’re in pain,” he said, holding the syringe up. “You don’t get some relief, you’re gonna pass out.”

“You give me that, I’m likely to pass out anyway. Even if I was awake, I would be no use to anyone.”

“Sir, I-”

“End of discussion Kobes. You put that thing away and don’t bring it out until we’re safe.”

Kobayashi shook his head, but obliged. Placing it in his pocket with the other spike he carried, he looked over to Beaumont and the others next. Braun knew what he meant. With the chopper situation unfolding, it might be time.

“Tell him,” he said. “They deserves to make that call themselves.”

Kobayashi nodded and hopped over to Beaumont’s side. He produced the syringe of Diazapam and offered it to him. A low-voiced conversation followed, one which Braun couldn’t hear. However, the reaction he was clear on.

“No, sir,” he said aloud. “I won’t take it.”

Kobayahsi whispered some word of caution, but Beaumont’s reply was equally emphatic.

“No… Your CO isn’t taking anything to numb himself. Neither am I. I want to be clear too, in case I can help.”

Kobayashi looked at him men. They all nodded their agreement. They looked galvanized, after a fashion. Still shaky and frightened, but possessed of something new and zealous as well. Perhaps their little operation into the woods had put them in mind of what they once were, what they were once capable of.

Braun was forced to smile. He looked at Dezba, across from him, who was slowly beginning to fade. The morphine was taking effect and the pain slowly disappearing. His arm fell to his lap, where the burnt stump was now clear. Beaumont saw it, but didn’t freak out immediately. That alone was something.

“What happened there?” he asked.

“Had a run in with some hungry Whiskeys,” Braun said, giving Dezba’s foot a light kick with his own. “But this tough son of a bitch wasn’t willing to oblige them. Rather cut off his own hand than let them eat it.”

Beaumont stirred uncomfortably in his seat. But he noticed his men looking at it too, and chose to laugh. It was a mighty nervous one, but it seemed to do them some good. In turn, they laughed too. Soon, they filled the cabin with it. It even began to sound genuine after a few seconds.

Only Dezba didn’t join in. Poor fellow was already halfway to a blissful coma.

A loud knock sounded at the rear. Braun’s head spun to look automatically. Whitman was standing there next to Saunders.

“Sir, we got it bagged… but uh…” he motioned skyward.

“Yeah, the chopper,” he said with a sigh. It was a terrible effort to get himself to his feet, but with a little help, he was clear of the cabin and out the rear in mere seconds. He looked skyward and heard the rotors beating the air. It seemed to be coming from the east now, echoing of the walls of the Reservoir canyon.

“Cobb, what’s the UAV say?”

Cobb produced the tablet and put it in front of Braun’s eyes. Sure enough, the Apache’s thermal signature placed directly above the water. The bright light of the fires could be seen just to the left of that on the screen, spreading south of the grassy field and north in the forest line. It was a wonder they had found their way through it. But at the end of the day, that had proven to be the least of their complications.

And only one remained, thought it might prove to be the most complicated of all.

“He’s surveying the field,” he observed. “Probably wondering what the hell we got up to out there.”

“How’s he going to react when he sees us?”

Good question, Braun thought. And an inevitable one, seeing as how they couldn’t exactly sit tight and wait for him to leave. He checked his chrono. The day was spent and their evac would be arriving in a few hours, just enough to get to the exfil site, and that was yet to be determined. With their added numbers, they couldn’t rely on the Skyhooks, nor could they hope to board the AC-130 that would be picking them up on anything other than a proper runway.

All indications pointed to immediate departure and to head straight for the airfield. The only question was, what were their odds?

He waved Whitman over. “Private, it’s fair to say know this vehicle better than any of us. You studied the specs so you could know her inside and out, right?”

“Yes, sir. Dezba and myself, sir.”

Braun nodded to the back of the cabin where Dezba was now fast asleep. “Yeah, well he’s not exactly available right now. So I ask you, what’s that chopper’s loudout and what are our odds of repelling him?”

Whitman looked in the chopper’s direction, shook his head. “I dunno, I saw four rocket mounts, no Hellfires. But that’s more than enough to take us out, it comes to that.”

Braun nodded and raised his hand. “Yes, but what are the odds of us surviving a single direct hit from those rockets?”

“A single direct hit?” Whitman repeated. “You mean, he fires a full spread, only one hits us direct?” Braun nodded. “Uh, not bad. We might lose some armor plating, maybe even the engine. But we might just survive the hit. Why?”

“What about that gun? How many shots will it take him to punch through the chassis?”

Whitman shrugged. “They’re designed to deal with trucks mainly. But he gets a dozen or so good shots in, we’re pretty much done for.”

Braun nodded. That’s precisely what he was hoping for. Without anti-tank missiles, their quarry wouldn’t be able to simply lay off a single shot and destroy them. He would have to stay on them, guiding his munitions and bullets until he was sure they were dead. Just enough time for them to squeeze off some “death from above!” And he was sure they could return fire on him until the missile reached it.

“Alright. Ready for wheels up. Cobb’s your new gunner. He’ll run the UAV from the gunner’s spot. We can’t wait any longer.”

“Yes, sir.” Whitman said with a nod and ran for the cabin, calling Cobb to him along the way.

Braun waved to Saunders just as soon as Whitman was gone. She came to his side and prepared to help him back into the cabin. Braun waved her help away and addressed her instead.

“Corporal. I need to ask a favor of you.”

“Anything, sir.”

“I need you to step up and take the role of NCO. Dezba’s done for the count and won’t be resuming his duties for the duration of this mission which,” he checked his chrono again. “Will be ending in a matter of hours.”

She smiled. “I’d be honored, sir.”

“Good, I can think of nobody better for the job, or to coordinate our dubious extraction plan.”

Her smile faded. “Oh, God, are we really doing that?”

Braun chuckled. “I don’t see a choice. We still got our friends to worry about, and as long as that chopper is dogging us, we can’t ditch the Stryker.”

“Oh boy,” she muttered.

“Just as soon as the Colonel gets here and radioes in, I need you to arrange the alternate pickup we talked about. Your primary job will be to convince her to go for it. You catch me?”

“No guaranteeing she will, but I’ll try.”

“Oh she will,” Braun said, eying the bag in the rear of their cabin. “She doesn’t have a choice either. None of us do anymore.”