Plausible Denial (41 page)

“I
am hit bad, Charly. Gut shot. Burns like hell. You better get out of here.
Leave me. Just go.”

“Don’t
move,” she said, “I’ll get you out of here.” She crawled over to the nearest
dead guard and removed his knife from the sheath on his belt. She used it to
cut through her zip-tie cuffs and then cut Vanquish free.

An
alarm sounded from inside the villa and she could hear the continuing impact of
rounds hitting around her and on the doors and windows of the villa behind her.
The six guards were sprawled around her, dead or dying.

Still
on her kness, she looked up in the direction of Doi Tung Mountain and said,
“Thank you Mac, thank you…”

Chapter One
Hundred-Twenty-Nine

C
uller’s
eye was glued to the spotter scope. “Holy shit, she just said ‘thank you Mac,’
she knows we’re up here, she said it. I could read her lips. No shit…”

Between
shots Mac said, “Now she better get her pretty little ass out of there
toute
de suite
or… fuck, I’m out of ammo.” He pushed back from the gun, grabbed
his backpack, pulled out a box of shells and began quickly reloading his two
magazines.

“She’s
moving now,” said Culler. “She’s trying to get the Hmong up on his feet…okay,
he’s up. They’re getting into the van…okay, they’re moving…okay…damn she is out
of there. Sonofabitch…she floored it, spitting dirt and gravel all over the place,
side doors still open... Uh-oh, they’re coming out the doors. Hurry up Mac…”

“I’ve
got it. I’ve got it.” Mac slapped a full magazine into the Lapua and settled in
behind it once again. Four men had taken advantage of the lull in shooting and
had ventured out onto the porch. They stood there looking stunned, surveying
the carnage, and watched the van speed away down the hill. One of them spoke
into his walkie-talkie and pointed in the direction of Doi Tung Mountain.

Mac
fired off three rounds in quick succession. Two of the men went down and the
other two scattered. One dove back into the villa and the other took off around
the side of the house. Mac put another round through the front doors to keep
the rest of them at bay.

“Good
shooting, Mac.” Culler scanned the area through his scope. “Uh-oh, I think
they’re on to us. Those two Hueys are gaining altitude and coming our way.”

Mac
reared back on his haunches and grabbed his night vision binoculars. “Yeah, I
think they figured it out. Let’s move back to better cover.”

They
grabbed their gear and the spotter scope and the Lapua, and retreated further
back into the pines, taking refuge in the large evergreen trees.

Culler
grabbed his assault rifle and switched on the infrared laser targeting sight.
He pulled his night vision gear from his backpack, strapped it over his head
and adjusted the lens over his eye.

The
green line of death shot out from the barrel of the rifle in front of him. He
was comforted to know that whatever that green line touched when he pulled the
trigger, the bullets would hit. And he knew the green line was only visible to
him.

The
two Vietnam vintage Huey helicopters flew back and forth on overlapping routes
below them, their searchlights probing the mountainside. The side doors were
open and the Huey’s 7.62x51mm Minigun and door gunner were visible to Santos
and MacMurphy.

Culler
shook his head. “Those babies may be old but they pack a lot of firepower in
those Miniguns. I’m not comfortable being on the wrong end of one of those gunships.
Seems weird...”

Mac
followed them with his night vision binoculars. “I know what you mean. Let’s
not get hosed down by one of those Miniguns. The Huey is heavy and slow and the
belly is wide open. Let’s just stay back here under cover and let’em get close
and maybe we can take’em out.”

“I
don’t know. Maybe we should just bug the hell out of here? We’ve accomplished
what we came here to do.”

“Where
the fuck are we going to go at this point? Up or down? You decide…”

“Yeah,
I see what you mean…okay, you’re right, offense is the best defense…”

The
Hueys continued to scour the mountainside below them, gradually moving back and
forth up the mountain. The searchlight flashed over their position and one of
the Hueys pulled up level with them. The light penetrated the darkness and they
shielded their eyes to maintain their night vision.

“They’re
checking out this position,” said Mac. “They’re not stupid. They recognize this
as a good vantage point for the same reasons we did.”

The
Huey hovered in front of their location with its searchlight probing the
darkness around them. They were standing motionless behind two large trees,
guns at the ready, hoping it would move on.

The
minigun wailed and bullets sprayed their location, knocking down branches and
kicking up dirt around them.

“Fuck
this,” said Culler over the noise, “they saw something, they know we’re here.”
He waited for the stream of bullets to move away from him and then moved around
the tree and put the green line on the open door and pulled the trigger,
spraying the interior of the Huey.

The
gunner was hit first. He sprawled back onto the floor of the gunship and the
minigun went silent. Bullets sprayed the interior of the Huey hitting two of
the other occupants and causing panic inside.

The
gunship pulled up and turned away from the mountain in a tight arc. Culler
continued to fire on the exposed belly of the helicopter, bullets pinged and
ricocheted off the hull as the ship peeled away and sped back toward the villa.

“Well,
if they had any doubts before…” said Mac.

“You
want to go up or down?” asked Culler. “I vote down.”

“Let’s
wait and see what they do first.”

They
didn’t have to wait long.

The
other Huey circled in a wide arc around them, staying out of range. Finally it
stopped and hovered close to the ground about five hundred meters above and
behind them. Six black shirted security guards armed with AK-47 assault rifles
bailed out of the Huey, spread out and headed slowly down the side of the
mountain toward their position.

“I
guess that answers my question. We go down, right?”

“Wait
a minute, hang on. Let’s think a minute. We still have the advantage. We’ve got
night vision, silenced weapons... Shit, let’s leave the Lapua and the rest of
our gear here and go hunting.”

Culler
grinned widely. “Hmmm, not a bad idea, I like that. If we could get around
behind them we could pick them off one by one like Sergeant York.”

“Sounds
like a plan. Let’s do it… Let’s get this gear wrapped up and under that tree
over there. Then you circle around them to the right and I’ll go left. Just
don’t shoot me, okay? Don’t get trigger happy with that POF. Hang on while I
grab the commo gear out of my backpack. We’ll need that. Meet you back here
when the game’s over. Good hunting.”

They
tested their commo gear and then took off at a quiet trot in opposite
directions. The combination of the darkness and their Ghillie-suits made them
practically invisible. They ran parallel to the side of the mountain in
opposite directions for about two hundred meters and then stopped, dropped into
concealed prone positions and waited quietly in ambush, listening.

Santos
heard the sounds of people coming through the woods before he saw them. He
whispered in his lapel mic and scanned the woods in front of him. “They’re
almost on us. I can hear’em coming.”

He
heard a crash of noise directly in front of him and a barely audible curse.
The
sonofabitch must have slipped
, he thought. He lay still, aiming up the side
of the mountain and waited, barely breathing. Soon he saw the man coming around
a huge evergreen. The man was holding his AK-47 assault rifle in front of him
with one hand and swiping the dirt from his trousers with his other.

Santos
flicked on the green line, laid it on the unsuspecting man’s chest and squeezed
the trigger. Three silent rounds squirted out of the muzzle and sent the man
straight back and down. Culler waited for sounds, and when there were none, he
got up and moved quickly but silently higher up the hill, around and behind the
dead man. He whispered into his lapel mic, “One down.”

“Hang
on,” said Mac. Moments later he said, “I got one, too. Coming around.”

Mac
stealthily circled around behind the body, like stalking a deer. He moved
around and up behind the line of intruders. He stopped and listened, senses
acute. He thought he was behind the remaining four security guards and was
surprised they were not using flashlights. He heard twigs snap and leaves
rustle.
Yes,
he thought,
without flashlights or night vision gear you
are blind, so you will stumble and fall and will die.

He
moved purposefully toward the sounds. He was almost upon the man when he saw
him, moving through the shadows no more than twenty feet in front and to the
right of him. He flicked on the green line and, holding the gun waist high,
brought the line up and placed it on the man’s side under his right arm and
touched the trigger. Two silent rounds struck the man in the rib cage and
knocked him sideways, his AK-47 flying out of his hands. He landed in a crash
and a yelp, alerting the other guards.

Santos
and MacMurphy had the same thought:
shit, we’re blown!

Confusion
reigned among the remaining three security guards. The man nearest to MacMurphy
took off running down the side of the mountain, crashing through the
underbrush. Mac sprayed shots in the direction of the noise and head a cry. The
other two guards began firing at shadows, giving their positions away.

When
the firing stopped, Santos moved toward the sounds in a crouch, being careful
to stay low and behind cover. He stopped behind a large evergreen tree,
hunkered down, and spoke into his lapel mic. “Where are you?”

“Behind
them. One took off down the mountain and I think I winged him. There are two
left. They’re frightened. Let’s take them out, but be careful…”

“Roger
that.”

They
moved through the woods like hunters, stalking their prey, holding their
assault rifles waist high at the ready, green lines of death dancing out in
front of them touching trees and shrubbery.

One
of the AKs opened fire in the direction of Santos. He hit the dirt, bullets
peppering the trees above his head.

“I
see him,” said Mac, “hang on…hang on…” He saw the man lying in the prone
position, touching off two and three round bursts from his AK in the direction
of Santos. Mac moved slightly to his right to get a better line of sight, put
the green line on the prone man’s side and pressed the trigger. Several bullets
struck the unsuspecting man and kicked up dirt under him and above him. “Got
him.”

“Thanks,”
said Culler, “one left…”

They
heard the sound of thrashing and knew the last guard was running down the hill
away from the action. “He’s on the move,” said Mac, “do you have a shot?”

“No…let
him go. He’s out of here…” The sounds of the man running and sliding downhill
toward the village could be heard clearly by both of them.

“Okay,
meet you back at the site,” said Mac.

They
rendezvoused at their original position, out of breath and experiencing an
adrenaline rush from the action. They congratulated each other on the action
and drank heavily from their Camelbacs.

“Let’s
collect our gear and bail out of here,” said Mac. “They’re not done with us and
this is a hot spot.”

“Up
or down?”

“I
think up. We can collect the rest of our gear up at the top and then go down
the other side. Maybe we can commandeer a vehicle somewhere down in Ban Mae
Sai. It’s too hot around Ban Hin Taek.”

“Sounds
like a plan,” said Culler. “I could use a little rest, too. I don’t think
they’ll be screwing with us anymore tonight…”

Chapter One Hundred-Thirty

A
s
soon as Charly Blackburn got Vanquish into the van she hit the gas. He was
turning white from loss of blood. He had to get medical attention soon or he
would die. But first she had to get away.

The
nearest hospital was in Chiang Rai,
would he make it that far?
She glanced
over at him and told him to buckle up. He was holding his stomach. His shirt
was soaked in blood. He looked over at her and smiled. She smiled back.
Not
good
, she thought,
he won’t make it that far.

Her
mind spun and she remembered a small clinic in the center of Ban Hin Taek. If
she could get him that far they could at least give him first aid to stop the
bleeding, and maybe give him some blood.

She
careened down the driveway from Khun Ut’s villa toward the main road. The side
doors of the van were wide open and the wind rushed through like a hurricane.
She was glad she made Vanquish buckle himself in because he rocked around like
a ragdoll when she hit the curves on the narrow road.

The
two guards at the gate looked up as she approached the guard shack at the
intersection of the main road. They recognized the speeding security van and
one of them started to raise the gate. Then the other one realized that
something was not quite right and ordered the van to stop. The gate came back
down with a thud.

Charly
slowed momentarily, downshifted and then hit the gas when she approached the
gate. She crashed through the gate and the two guards dove for safety.

She
spun out onto the highway and made a hard right turn heading toward the center
of town. She almost passed the large red and white cross sign on the left hand
side of the road. She hit the brakes hard and spun the wheel sharply left into
the gravel parking area in front of the clinic.