Precipice: V Plague Book 9 (7 page)

More than a
thousand Russian troops had descended on Twin Falls.  It was late in the
day, the sun rapidly approaching the western horizon.  After leaving the
house where he was certain the Major had spent a couple of nights, Colonel
Grushkin followed the tracks south until running out of snow to mark the
passage of his quarry.  But by that point there was no doubt the Americans
were heading for Twin Falls.

Ordering the
helicopters out of the mountains, he had them form an aerial perimeter around
the small city, hoping he had arrived in time to contain the Major.  A
radio call brought in a Beriev A-50, a Russian AWACS aircraft, which was
specifically designed for airborne early warning and control.  The jet not
only took control of managing the airspace and ensuring the steadily growing
number of helicopters and transport planes didn’t run into one another, it also
began jamming every radio frequency that was not in use by the Russians.

Throughout
the afternoon, large Antonov An-12s, the Russian version of a C-130, landed at
the Twin Falls airport and disgorged heavily armed ground troops and light
infantry vehicles.  Under the direction of the Spetsnaz troopers they
began a house to house and building to building search. 

Twin Falls
wasn’t large geographically, barely covering eighteen square miles, and between
the patrolling helicopters and foot soldiers there was no way anyone was
getting in or out without the Russians seeing them.  But such close scrutiny
of everything that was moving tested Grushkin’s patience.  There were
still a lot of infected in the city.

There were
no tall buildings in town so he settled for setting up his command post on the
roof of a large Costco.  Throughout the afternoon he stood at the southern
parapet of the roof with a pair of powerful binoculars, constantly
scanning.  Several soldiers operated a variety of command and control gear
to direct the ground operations and he had them turn the volume up so he could
listen to the reports coming in.

The sound of
gunfire was nearly constant as the search parties put down infected who were
drawn to them.  A steady stream of reports came over the radio,
documenting each engagement as well as identifying specific houses and
buildings that had been searched.

Frustration
ate at Grushkin as he monitored the progress of his troops.  The presence
of the infected greatly hampered his efforts.  Every time one of the men
fired his weapon, more infected would be drawn to that location, necessitating
more firing when they arrived.  And if the American Major was hiding
somewhere he was getting regular feedback on exactly where the Russian
searchers were.  It wouldn’t be difficult for him to stay a step ahead.

But there
was no choice.  His orders had no ambiguity.  He was to deliver the
Major, or indisputable evidence of his death, to Colonel General Kozlov. 
The only way to do that was to leave no stone unturned.  But after several
hours his men had only managed to search less than a quarter of the city. 
Too much time was being spent battling the infected.

Glancing at
his watch he noted the time and that a report to the General in Seattle was
due.  Turning his head, he snapped an order and a young Corporal snatched
a satellite phone off its charger and dashed over to hand it to him. 
Taking the handset, he pressed a speed dial button before lifting it to his
ear.

The
General’s aide answered and when Grushkin identified himself the phone was
quickly passed to Kozlov.

“Tell me
you’re calling with good news, Colonel,” the General said by way of greeting.

“Not yet,
Comrade General,” Grushkin answered before going on to brief his superior on
the current activities.

“Do you
believe he is hiding in this town?”  Kozlov asked when Grushkin finished
speaking.

“I believe
he may have slipped out before we sealed the perimeter, sir.  But there is
also a possibility that he is still here so we must complete our search. 
I have the Air Force conducting surveillance flights for a two hundred
kilometer radius around the city.  We will find him.”

“Do not come
back without him, Colonel.”  Kozlov broke the connection without another
word and Grushkin had to take a moment to martial his anger at the dismissive
treatment.

“Comrade
Colonel.  This just arrived, marked for your attention.”  Grushkin
turned to see the same Corporal who had brought the sat phone holding out a
thin sheaf of papers.

Handing the
man the phone, he took the papers and looked at the header.  It was a
report on the DNA taken from the body in the mountains.  Surprised at how
fast it had been turned around he began reading, disappointed when the tissue
sample was identified as belonging to an American Navy pilot named William
Smith.  It was noted that his DNA had been on file for eight years, having
been obtained by a female agent in Cyprus. 

Grushkin
flipped pages, scanning the rest of the report.  He wasn’t interested in
the pilot’s service record or any of the personal details that the GRU had
recorded on the man.  He was preparing to toss the papers back to the
Corporal when a notation at the bottom of the last page caught his eye.

It was
handwritten and addressed to him in response to a question he’d asked. 
The technician had searched the database and was confirming they had Major John
Chase’s DNA record on file.  This was the first good news Grushkin had
received.  At least they would be able to confirm the man’s identity
beyond any doubt once they found him.

There was no
additional information on the Major included with the note.  Grushkin had
reviewed the file that was maintained by the Red Army on his flight to Mountain
Home Air Force Base, but perhaps the GRU had additional information that would
give him more insight into his prey.  Handing the papers back he
instructed the Corporal to request the GRU file, highest priority.

Half an
hour, and innumerable battles between the ground forces and infected later, the
Corporal brought him a thick print out.  Grushkin accepted it in surprise,
not expecting the Major’s GRU file to be so dramatically thicker than the one
maintained by the Red Army.

“Chair,” was
all he said as he began reading the biography.

After
thinking about the situation for a few minutes I decided we weren’t going to
move again until after dark.  Making room in the barn, I pulled the Jeep
inside to hide it from any eyes that might fly over.  Rachel and Dog
settled at the base of one of the trees, Katie and I at another as I kept an
eye to the west.

It wasn’t
long before I saw the first transport aircraft descend for landing, shortly
followed by several more.

“Russian?” 
Katie asked, having seen them when I pointed them out to her.

“Yep. 
Can’t remember the designation, but those aren’t C-130s.”  I said,
checking the phone’s signal again.

“You think
they’re jamming?”  She asked, noticing me look at the handset for about
the hundredth time.

“That’s what
I would do if I had the resources available.  They’ve probably got their
version of an AWACS orbiting at 30,000 feet, controlling the airlift and
coordinating an aerial search.”

I turned my
head slightly when I heard the faint sound of jet engines.  Listening for
a moment I looked at the northern horizon.  I could just make out a tiny,
black speck transiting from east to west.  Almost assuredly a Russian
aircraft looking for me.

“Your
boyfriend surely fucked things up,” I mumbled.

Katie didn’t
say anything and after a few moments I glanced at her and from the expression
on her face I knew I’d hit a nerve.

“Sorry,” I
said, reaching over and taking her hand.  “I didn’t mean that the way it
came out.”

She squeezed
my hand in hers but didn’t look at me or say anything.  Shit, John. 
Sometimes you can really be an insensitive ass.

“So we’re
just going to sit here until it gets dark?”  Katie asked several minutes
later.

“Unless
you’ve got a better idea.  It’s wide open east of here and we’re going to
stick out like a sore thumb if we start moving.”

“You think
it will be better at night?  Their night vision is as good as ours and
odds are they’ll be watching with thermal, too.”

“You’re
probably right,” I said.  “But even with night vision and thermal, if
they’re not looking directly at us they aren’t very likely to notice us. 
At least not as likely as if we’re moving in broad daylight.”

She nodded
but kept whatever else she was thinking to herself.  We both looked to our
left at Rachel when she tossed a handful of pebbles at us.  Dog was
sitting up, ears at full mast, looking north into a field.  I didn’t see
anything, but wasn’t about to ignore him.

Standing slowly,
I scanned with my eyes, spotting five figures moving through the rows of green produce
about two hundred yards away.  Raising my rifle, I checked through the
scope and confirmed they were infected.  Three males and two
females.  They didn’t seem to have spotted us as they were moving due
east, heading for all the noise that the Russians were making in town.

Slowly
scanning behind them to the west I saw several more groups.  They were all
out in the field, far enough away to bypass us, but I had a bad feeling and
turned to check behind us.  Over a hundred infected were spread across the
horizon, on course to pass directly through the area where we were sitting. 
It was an even mix of males and females and it was just dumb luck that the
females hadn’t spotted us yet.

“In the
barn,” I hissed, keeping my rifle up and aimed at the approaching danger.

Katie and
Rachel scrambled to their feet and dashed inside the big building, Dog breaking
into a limping trot to keep up with them.  I turned a quick circle,
scanning with the rifle, then followed them and pulled the large door closed
behind me.  There was a simple block of wood nailed to the frame that
could be rotated to prevent the door from opening and I slapped it into place.

“How
many?”  Rachel asked breathlessly.

“Too many,”
I said quietly.  “No noise.  Don’t think they saw us so maybe they’ll
just pass on by.”

We stood in
the near darkness, barely breathing, and it wasn’t long before the sound of
feet scraping on dirt could be heard through the gaps in the weathered siding
of the old building.  I snapped around when an impact against the back
wall sounded, relaxing slightly when a sliding, bumping sound began moving
along the perimeter.  A male had walked right into the barn and was
feeling his way around the obstacle.

The sounds
of the small herd continued for several minutes and I realized there were more
of them than I had initially thought.  Lowering my rifle to hang on its
sling I stepped to the door and pressed my eye to a gap between two
boards.  Fuck me, I didn’t like what I saw.

Three
females were squatted over the spot where Rachel had been sitting.  They were
sniffing the base of the tree and the ground around it.  Well that’s a new
one.  The first time I’d encountered an infected back in Atlanta I’d
suspected they were hunting by smell, and had seen them test the air with their
noses, but this was the first time I’d seen them get right down to the ground
and scent like a dog.

One of them
brushed the ground with her hand, turning her head and examining the faint
tracks Rachel’s boots had left in the dirt.  Her gaze turned to the barn
and she stood and began stalking towards us, the other two standing and
following.  I moved away from the door and waved Katie and Rachel back
before raising my rifle.

I stopped at
the side of the Jeep, the girls taking up station at the bumper with Dog
between them.  He growled softly and I heard one of them gently shush him. 
It was quiet for a moment, then came the sound of the females sniffing the air
right on the other side of the door.  This went on for close to a minute,
then the left hand door banged as one of them pushed on it.

More
sniffing, then both doors began bouncing against their stops as the females
pushed on them.  Signaling to Katie and Rachel, I told them to get the
Jeep’s doors open and Dog loaded.  I didn’t have a lot of faith that the old
barn doors would hold long if the females made a concerted effort to gain entry,
and I wanted us to be able to make a quick escape if necessary.  I’d
rather take my chances with being spotted by a Russian aircraft than be trapped
in the barn as infected flowed in.

But I had forgotten
something.  The keys were still hanging from the ignition, exactly where
I’d left them when I pulled the vehicle inside earlier.  When Katie opened
the driver’s door a reminder alert began chiming, loud in the stillness of the
barn.  There was a moment of quiet from the far side as the females
listened, then screams erupted as they began tearing at the door.

I stepped
away from the Jeep and made a guess at where they were standing.  Hoping
for some luck I began firing blindly through the wooden doors.  If I
didn’t shut these bitches up very fast they’d attract the rest of the
herd.  There wouldn’t be a need to worry about the Russians spotting us
driving down the road if that happened.  All they’d have to do would be
investigate what had the attention of a whole bunch of infected.

The first
magazine emptied in a hurry.  I wasn’t firing aimed shots, I was just
intent on putting out a lot of lead as fast as I could.  Rarely is that a
good idea with a rifle, but there are times when quantity of metal downrange is
your friend.  As I changed mags, Katie and Rachel both opened up and
between the three of us the doors quickly started disintegrating.

We all three
ran dry at the same time and I told them to hold fire after they changed their
magazines.  The screaming and banging on the doors had stopped. 
Stepping cautiously, I moved forward until I could see through one of the gaps
that had been blasted in the wood.

All three
females were down, their bodies riddled with bullet holes.  None of them
had died from a head shot, but I didn’t care.  As long as they were down.

Standing
there looking at the corpses I nearly lost half my face when an arm suddenly
snaked through the opening, a ragged nailed hand slashing at me.  Jerking back,
I stumbled as I tried to raise my rifle.  Katie stepped past me, shoved
the muzzle of her suppressor through the hole and pulled the trigger as the
female began screaming.

The rifle
spat out three rounds and silenced the scream, but by now there had been enough
noise and activity to draw the attention of the rest of the herd.  There
were more screams from either side of the barn, some sounding very close and
others more distant.

“Let’s go,”
I said, heading for the open driver’s door.

Rachel gave
Dog a boost and he made it on to the back seat with her right behind him. 
Katie dove in the driver’s side door and scrambled across to the passenger seat
and I jumped behind the wheel and slammed the door behind me.  Turning the
key, I glanced up in the mirror and saw both barn doors bouncing in and out as
more bodies slammed into them.  They wouldn’t hold long under the assault.

Engine
running, I shifted into reverse and held my foot on the brake.  My
attention was focused on the mirror, watching as the aged and warped wood
weakened by the second.

“What are
you waiting for?”  Katie tried to sound calm but I could hear the stress
in her voice.

“The doors,”
I said.  “If they break them open there’s less chance we’ll damage the
Jeep.  I don’t want to ram through if I don’t have to.”

Katie nodded,
but I could tell she would be happier if I just hit the throttle and got us the
hell out of there.  She sat turned sideways in her seat, staring out the
rear window.  In the mirror I could see Rachel and Dog also looking out
the back as I watched the gap between the two doors grow larger by the second.

Finally,
there was a loud crack of overstressed wood and one of the doors flew
open.  A solid mass of bodies immediately began flowing through the
opening, heading for the sound of the idling Jeep.  This was what I’d been
waiting for and as soon as I saw daylight I floored the throttle.

The engine
roared and the Jeep shot backwards.  The large rack that held spare fuel
cans, a tall jack and the spare tire plowed into the charging infected,
smashing them out of the way.  I stayed on the throttle, plowing through,
ignoring the bumps as we bounced over the bodies of the ones who had been
unfortunate enough to be knocked under our tires instead of to the side.

In seconds
we were clear of the barn and I cut the wheel and hit the brakes. 
Shifting into drive I steered around a pair of stumbling males, flinching away
from the side window as a female leapt onto the running board and grabbed the
outside mirror.  I ignored her for the moment, bouncing over more bodies
and onto the pavement.

Our female
passenger was screaming and pounding on the window with one hand while she
gripped the mirror with the other.  Clear of the herd and up to fifty
miles an hour, I told Katie to take the wheel.  She grabbed it with her
left hand and I drew my pistol and stabbed the button to roll down the window.

As the glass
began descending I stuck the muzzle of the weapon through the opening and
pulled the trigger when it was just inches from her face.  Her head
snapped back from the impact of the bullet then she fell free to tumble along
the asphalt.

“Everyone
good?”  I asked.  I was shouting because my ears were ringing from
the crash of the pistol in the enclosed vehicle.

Rachel and
Katie both confirmed they were fine, Rachel wrapping an arm around Dog’s neck
and gently rubbing his chest.

“We’re out
in the open,” Katie observed quietly.

“I know,” I
said.  “Keep your fingers crossed that the Russians are bored and not
paying attention.