Read Precipice: V Plague Book 9 Online
Authors: Dirk Patton
Martinez was
pushing the Hind to its maximum speed, which was quite a bit higher than the
published specs she had read. The helicopter was an absolute beast,
easily matching the top speed of a Black Hawk and powering on past it.
After picking up Katie, Rachel and Dog she had flown them directly to the small
airport in Nampa, staying low to hopefully avoid detection by the Russian
AWACS. She had previously found and disabled the aircraft’s transponder,
so if they didn’t pop up high enough above the ground clutter to be spotted on
radar the chances of being detected were slim at best.
She had set
down near the hangar they’d been hiding in, everyone jumping out immediately
when the landing gear touched the tarmac. Igor would assist with the
refueling while Colonel Crawford, Scott and Irina pulled security duty.
They would also give their prisoner, Johnnie Ray, a brief break without ever
letting him out of their sight.
Katie and
Rachel hopped down, Crawford lifting Dog so he didn’t have to stress his
injured legs by jumping down. He headed for the side of the hangar,
Rachel tagging along to make sure he was OK. Katie stood back and watched
as Irina unlocked Johnnie Ray’s handcuffs. He rubbed his wrists where the
steel had chaffed before reaching up and peeling the strip of duct tape off his
mouth.
“This is
fucking bullshit,” he mumbled to Crawford as he stiffly jumped to the
ground. “No reason to be treating me like this.”
“Shut up
unless you want to get locked back up without a break,” the Colonel said,
glaring at the man.
Johnnie Ray
had been unable to keep his mouth shut. He had constantly complained
about everything. The cuffs were too tight. The helicopter was too
rough and noisy. He didn’t want to cooperate and go see the doctor.
And when he wasn’t bitching he was making some thinly veiled sexual innuendo
about Irina or Martinez. Reaching his limit, Crawford had finally
borrowed Scott’s roll of duct tape, peeled off a strip and slapped it across
the prisoner’s mouth.
“You can
lock me back up with that red head,” he said, leering at Katie who was standing
a few yards away, watching Rachel and Dog.
Crawford
stepped closer, Johnnie Ray shrinking back and holding his hands up in
surrender.
“Sorry,
General. Just saying she’s a good looking woman. That’s all.
I’ll behave.” He said.
“Go take a
piss,” Crawford tilted his head out towards the open tarmac. “Remember
the deal. You try to run; I’ll shoot you in the ass.”
Johnnie Ray
started to open his mouth to say something, but after evaluating the look on
Crawford’s face he changed his mind. Nodding, he walked a few yards away
before relieving himself on the pavement.
“We’ve got a
problem, Colonel.” Martinez called from the far side of the helicopter.
“Go.
I’ve got him,” Irina said, raising her rifle and pointing it at Johnnie
Ray. Katie moved to stand next to her, also raising her rifle to guard
the prisoner.
Crawford
nodded and headed to where Martinez and Igor were standing over a fueling
point.
“What’s
wrong?” He asked as he walked up.
“Pump isn’t
working.” Martinez gestured to the blocky piece of equipment that was
attached to the fueling point hard pipe, a flexible hose coming out of the
other side and running into the Hind’s tank. Electrical cables from the
helo snaked to the pump to provide power.
“It worked
earlier, didn’t it?” Crawford asked.
“Yes,
sir. But it’s dead as a doornail and there’s not another one at this
little puddle jumper airport. We’re going to have to pump by hand and
it’s going to take a while,” Martinez answered, disconnecting the power cables
from the faulty piece of equipment.
“How long?”
“Both
external tanks are empty and they’re 500 liters each,” Martinez said.
“And the internal auxiliary tank is half gone and it holds about 1,200 liters.
The main tank is dry and that’s 1,800 liters. So we’ve got to pump over
3,000 liters and the hand pump can move maybe 1,500 liters an hour if the
operator doesn’t get tired.”
“OK, get started,”
Crawford said. “We’ll take turns. Frequent changes so there’s
always a fresh arm turning the crank. You make sure we’re getting it done
as fast as we can.”
“Yes,
sir.” Martinez turned to Igor and started giving instructions in slow,
patient English. Crawford had been working with him and he was starting
to learn, but wasn’t grasping what she was telling him.
Grumbling,
she grabbed his arm and began leading him towards the hangar to get the manual
pump.
“Captain,”
Crawford called before she was too far away. “Why don’t we get this thing
in the hangar since we’re going to be sitting here for a while. Don’t
want the CAP or a patrol to spot us.”
“Yes,
sir. Right away.”
She turned
back to Igor and mimed driving. He grinned before turning and running
into the hangar. A couple of moments later a small tractor started up and
the Spetsnaz trooper drove out through the open doors. While he and
Martinez got it hooked up to drag the Hind out of sight, Crawford turned to go fill
in the rest of the group on what was happening.
When he
rounded the tail of the helicopter he paused a step before continuing.
Johnnie Ray was seated on the tarmac, legs splayed out in front of him.
His hands were raised to his face, blood running down his chin and dripping
onto his lap.
“What did he
do?” Crawford didn’t have to ask which of the women had hit the
prisoner. Irina was trying to suppress a grin and Katie looked like she
was ready to continue the beating.
“He asked
Mrs. Chase what she would charge for a blow job,” Irina finally couldn’t hold
it in any longer, dissolving into laughter.
“Real
fucking funny, bitch.” Johnnie Ray said with hatred in his eyes.
Katie
stepped over him, raising the butt of her rifle in the air. He shrank
away and held his hands up.
“I’m sorry,
I’m sorry. Don’t hit me again.”
“No more
chances, asshole. Next time I’ll beat you unconscious. Like the
Colonel’s told you; we don’t need you healthy, just alive. Last warning!”
Katie
hovered over the cowering man, rifle still raised. He shot a glance at
Irina and Crawford, but they just stood and glared back at him, not a glimmer
of sympathy on either of their faces.
“Alright.
Get your ass up.” Crawford fished the handcuffs out of a cargo pocket.
Once Johnnie
Ray was restrained he was led into the hangar and put back inside the helicopter.
Prisoner secure, Crawford took a minute to explain about the delay in departing
for Seattle.
“But we
don’t have two hours,” Katie protested when he finished telling her.
“They’ve already got a head start on us and they’ll have John on the way to Russia.”
“We don’t
have a choice,” Crawford said patiently. “We have to refuel before we can
make the flight.”
“What about
something else? I see some planes over there,” Katie gestured at the far
side of the tarmac where a scattering of single engine planes were tied down.
“We can’t
all fit in one of those, for one thing. And even if we could, the plane
would attract attention that we can’t afford. We’d most likely get shot
down.” Irina spoke up before the Colonel could answer.
Katie stared
at the pretty Russian woman, turning to look at Rachel who was standing next to
her with Dog. The taller woman shook her head in sympathy.
“We just
have to hope,” she said, looking into Katie’s eyes. “We’ll get there as
fast as we can. I’m just not so sure…”
“What?”
Katie asked when it became apparent Rachel wasn’t going to continue her
thought.
“You know
John better than me,” she said. “But, can you picture him going all
docile and letting the Russians just take him wherever they want?”
“He’ll be
well guarded,” Irina interjected. “He won’t be given a chance to create a
problem for them.”
Crawford
took the opportunity to move away from the women. Martinez and Igor had
the hand pump connected and Igor had already begun turning the large
crank. Scott stood just outside the hangar doors, rifle in hand, head
swiveling constantly as he scanned the area for threats.
Their next
stop was in Kennewick, Washington at a small municipal airport to refuel.
The speed at which Martinez was pushing the big machine would have used a lot
of fuel by itself, but flying low to evade airborne radar had magnified the
Hind’s consumption.
So while she
stayed focused on her flying, Irina, occupying the co-pilot’s seat, thumbed
through the FAA book and found the airport. When they landed, only the
auxiliary tank had any fuel remaining and an alarm on the control panel had
been flashing that it was low for the past ten minutes.
“If there’s
not fuel here, we’re walking,” Martinez shouted to the group as they were
piling out the side door. “Don’t think we’ve even got enough to get back
in the air.”
“You’re
always such a pessimist,” Scott grinned and disappeared through the door before
she could say anything.
There were
infected in the area and they had zeroed in on the sound of the big helo
touching down. Shutting the side door to make sure Johnnie Ray couldn’t
make a run for it while they were distracted, everyone other than Martinez
spread out in a perimeter to protect the Hind.
Martinez
grabbed a hose, connected the fueling point pump to the Hind’s tanks and
stretched out the power cables. As soon as they were connected the pump
began whining, loud at first until it primed, then settling down as fuel was
sucked from under the tarmac and sent into the helicopter.
“We have
fuel, Captain?” Crawford shouted in between shots to knock down
approaching females.
“It’s
pumping, sir. Now we have to hope there’s enough in the tank to top us
off.”
Everyone
went quiet after that, only the sound of suppressed rifles firing and the
screams of approaching females. They burned through a lot of ammo, but
held the infected back for the twenty minutes it took to fill the Hind.
Shutting down the pump, Martinez stowed the hose and climbed back into the
cockpit to start the engines.
“Mount up,”
she shouted out her open door when she was satisfied the helo was ready to fly.
The group
compressed on itself as one by one they climbed aboard. Crawford was the
last one in, shouting to Martinez who lifted off before he could slam the side
door closed.
“I needed to
piss,” Johnnie Ray whined. Katie glared at him, jaw set and he looked
away. “That’s OK. I can hold it.”
Martinez had
them back on course and up to speed quickly, racing less than a hundred feet
over the rolling terrain of eastern Washington State. Crawford slipped on
a set of headphones so he could talk to her on the intercom.
“Ever been
to McChord or Lewis?” He asked Martinez.
“No,
sir. But we’re going to Boeing Field which is about 40 miles north of
there, right next to Seattle.”
“You’re sure
that what’s you heard on the radio? Boeing Field? The Russians have
occupied McChord Air Force Base. Why would they take the Major to a
different field?” He asked.
“Irina
listened in on some pilots talking to the AWACS operator and that’s what they
said. Her guess is there’s some VIP in Seattle that wants to get a look
at him before they ship him off to Moscow.”
“OK,
then. Boeing Field it is. By the way, you know we’ve got a big
mountain range between here and there, right?” Crawford asked.
“Yes,
sir. It’s the Cascades. There are warnings about them in the FAA
book. Don’t worry, I’ve never flown into the side of a mountain before.”
“As long as
you don’t start now, we’re in good shape.” Crawford chuckled and settled
back for the rest of the flight.
It wasn’t
long before they began having to gain altitude as the eastern slopes of the
Cascades approached. Trees began to change from smaller elms, maples and
oaks to hemlocks and cedars that reached more than a hundred feet into the
air. Martinez kept a close eye on the altimeter, relying on standard
instruments and her experience. The Hind didn’t have any of the imaging
equipment that would be found in an American helicopter which allowed the pilot
to see like an owl in the dark.
They crested
the mountain range between two craggy peaks, Martinez nosing the Hind over to
follow the terrain as they dropped down towards Seattle. She was shocked
to see large pockets of light in the far distance. Someone had definitely
set up shop.
“Lots of
lights ahead, Colonel,” she said over the intercom.
“The last
time I spoke with Pearl Harbor they told me it looked like the Russians were
sending in a lot of people to occupy some of the west coast cities. Much
of the power here is generated at hydroelectric plants, which must still be
operating. They probably only needed to do some work on the distribution
system to get the lights back on.”
“Makes
sense, and I won’t ask how you know all that,” Martinez said. “We’re
fifteen minutes to Boeing Field.”
Crawford
acknowledged the time remaining and moved around the cramped space to make sure
everyone was awake and ready. Only Igor was asleep, coming alert as soon
as the Colonel touched his shoulder.
“Fifteen
minutes,” Crawford said to him in Russian.
“Fifteen
minute,” Igor responded in English.
“Minutes.
Don’t forget it’s plural. More than one.” Crawford corrected him in
Russian.
Igor nodded
and smiled, repeating it and getting it correct. The Colonel slapped him
on the shoulder and smiled, then moved to take a seat next to Katie. She
was hunched on the floor, Dog stretched out between her and Rachel. Dog,
who was healing and moving better, stood up and shook when Crawford’s big boot
disturbed his sleep.
“We’re
almost there,” he said to Katie who just nodded.
“I’m
thinking it might be a good idea for you to wait in the helo. Keep watch
on our friend over there.” Crawford hooked a thumb in Johnnie Ray’s
direction.
“Not a
fucking chance, Colonel.” Katie met his eyes with a hard stare.
“You’re
wound a little tight, and there may be some parts of this that require some
subtlety. You going to be able to handle that?” He met her stare
with an equally hard one of his own.
After a long
few moments Katie lowered her eyes and nodded her head.
“I get the
message,” she said. “Yes, I’ll be OK. I just want him back.”
“We all do,”
Crawford said gently. “But we can’t let our emotions drive our actions or
we could wind up getting him killed as well as all of us.”
Katie took a
deep breath and nodded, trying to hold back tears that threatened to start
trickling down her face.
“When we get
on the ground I want you to hold back with Captain Martinez. Take your
cues from her. I’ll be in front with Irina and Igor. Agreed?”
“Agreed,”
Katie said, getting her emotions under control and giving Crawford a weak
smile.
“Ten
minutes,” Martinez called over the intercom and the Colonel repeated it loud
enough for everyone to hear.
“Can you
stay and keep watch on him?” The Colonel asked Rachel.
It was
obvious she didn’t want to be left behind, but Dog didn’t need to be tagging
along either, so she agreed. Dog, a prisoner and a stripper. What a
combination, she thought and tried not to giggle.
“Sir,
something’s going on,” Martinez said a few minutes later.
“Explain,”
he said immediately.
“As soon as
we crested the mountains I started picking up the Russian’s radio
chatter. Mostly routine stuff dealing with the CAP and local air patrols
and a few big cargo planes on approach to McChord.
“Then Irina
hears what is apparently a long range transport jet sitting on the tarmac at
Boeing Field. He’s talking to the controller, wanting to know when the
passenger for his flight to Kubinka will arrive. Kubinka is an air base
on the outskirts of Moscow.
“Anyways,
the answer is that the flight from Idaho was scrubbed because they’ve had an
issue. They talked for a few more minutes, and that’s as much as they
said about it, but the transport is taxiing for takeoff to return to
McChord. They’re not going to Russia.”
“Problem
with the aircraft in Idaho? Is that the issue?” Crawford sat up
straight, everyone else in the compartment leaning in when they heard his
question.
“Unclear,
sir. I’m quoting Irina’s translation when I say the flight was scrubbed
because they had an issue. It could be the plane, or it could be the
Major giving them problems they didn’t expect.
“What do you
want me to do, sir? Doesn’t seem to be the best course of action to
continue on into Boeing Field. There’s a small airport back up in the
mountains a few minutes behind us where we can sit down until we know more.”
“Do it,” the
Colonel said.
He felt the
helicopter begin to turn as he took off his headset to update the group.