Apache Dawn: Book I of the Wildfire Saga (69 page)

“Really?” asked Chad.
 
“This is about money?
 
You’re going to sell me to the Koreans?
 
After all we went through to
escape
them—”

She shoved him up against the fuselage of the helicopter with a grunt.
 
“To the Koreans, you’re—or I guess your blood
is—worth exactly one-half what the Germans will pay and one-
quarter
what the Russians are offering.
 
Patriotism be damned—I can’t turn my back on half a billion dollars.
 
I got family and bills and…” her voice faltered.
 
“My kids…my daughter has been so sick…”
 

Chad stared at her, incredulous.
 
“You can’t be serious.”
 
He nodded toward the distant battle raging over Salmon Falls.
 
The last remaining Apache was ducking and weaving yet still dropping missiles and bullets, but it was clearly a losing proposition.
 
“You think the Russians, the Germans, or even the Koreans are actually going to pay you?
 
They’ll take me and put a bullet in your head.
 
You—think of your kids!
 
You love them, right?
 
Why would you risk never seeing them again for money?”

She sniffed and roughly turned Chad around so he could see the built-in footrests to reach the lower part of the cockpit.
 
“For $500 million, I’ll take my chances.
 
Get in there.”

“Everyone has their price, I guess,” he muttered.


Overwatch!
 
Come in!
 
Damn it
—” Chad could hear screaming and the Captain was panting now.
 

Overwatch, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but you’ve got to start shooting!
 
Get these guys off our backs!
 
They’re trying to flank us—

“Oh, like you wouldn’t do the same thing in my situation?
 
Shut up and climb the ladder.”
 
She reached into the upper cockpit and started flipping switches.
 
Deep in the bowels of the helicopter, the engine started to whine as it came to life.

Chad saw his chance as he climbed into the cockpit and pretended to lose his grip.
 
He crushed his chest against the hull of the helicopter and hoped it was enough to activate the radio in his chest pocket.
 
He grunted in pain and then said, “I hope it was worth it for you to hide this helicopter on the mountain.
 
I can’t believe you think you’re going to get paid by the Russians for kidnapping me.
 
How can you be so heartless to leave Tuck to bleed to death back there?”

“Mr. Huntley!
 
Can you hear me?
 
Can you respond?

“Answer me this then,” he said, panting with effort to keep the radio activated and look the pilot in the face.
 
“Where are you taking me?”

“East, to meet the middle-man.
 
The Russians will probably take you back to one of their treaty-cities.
 
Boston, or one of the southern cities.
 
I don’t know and I don’t
care
.
 
I get my money before that happens.”

She pulled him back upright and shoved him down into the seat.
 
He felt the radio switch pop back out in his shirt pocket and hoped the transmission had gotten through.
 
He sat down in the front seat heavily and remained still while the pilot roughly strapped him in.


Striker 2…Overwatch
,” Tuck’s voice was weak.
 
At least he was still alive.
 
Chad closed his eyes in thanks as the Pilot got into her seat.
 
He could hear buckles clicking as the canopy lowered over his head and sealed shut.


Blond pilot…double-crossing…bitch
shot
me…

“Roger that, Overwatch.
 
What’s your location?

Chad could see the black rotors begin to move, slowly at first, then faster and faster as the Apache spooled-up to speed.
 
The control panels in front of him flickered on and a myriad of buttons and switches glowed and blinked.

“Where’s your co-pilot?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Gunner,” said the pilot.
 
“Not a co-pilot.
 
And he didn’t make it.
 
Another person that died because of
you
.”


Position Bravo-2.
 
By the leaning pine
,” whispered Tuck.
 
Chad could barely hear him.
 
“Hurry…”

“Garza is Oscar-Mike!
 
You stay with me, Ranger!”

“Bitch shot me…”
 


Tuck!”

“Unh…”
static crackled and the signal faded.

Chad turned his head instinctively trying to hear the transmissions better.
 
He knew he’d made a mistake when he heard the pilot gasp behind him.
 

“You sneaky bastard!
 
You had a radio the whole time!”
 
He heard the pilot muttering to herself as she unbuckled her harness.
 
The rotors were spinning so fast now, Chad noticed, it was impossible to see each one individually.
 
They were just a blur on the other side of the canopy glass.

He winced as the earbud was ripped from his ear.
 
A hand reached into his chest pockets and groped around.
 
After a moment, the radio came free.
 
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the reflection of the pilot pull out the pistol again.
 
He thought she was going to shoot him for a second, but she turned it sideways and swung.
 
Hard.
 

Chad felt searing pain the in the back of his head.
 
It traveled to his eyes like twin lightning bolts.
 

“They said you had to be alive, but they never said you had to be awake,” he heard the pilot say.
 
She laughed.

Everything went white, then black as he felt his head fall to the side and strike the cockpit canopy.
 
He felt the weird sensation that he was simultaneously falling asleep and slowly falling down a dark hole in the ground and—

C
HAPTER
28

Denver, Colorado.

Denver International Airport.

Emergency National Reserve Operations Center.

C
OOPER
STRETCHED
HIS
BACK
and felt the wonderful sensation of a good night’s sleep ripple through his abused body.
 
The sounds of a military base intruded into his mind and pulled him out of the warm fog of drowsiness.
 
Helicopters, men, machines,
tanks
…a stirred up hornet’s nest of activity that he could hear through the concrete walls.

Cooper sat up suddenly.
 
Where the hell am I?
 

“Have a nice nap, son?” asked a raspy voice.

Cooper turned his sore neck and focused on an old man in perfectly starched digital camo, leaning against a desk with his wiry arms across his chest.
 
The Commandant of the Marine Corps grinned.
 
“Who’s Brenda?”

Cooper sighed and ran a hand through his damp hair in an effort to conceal his embarrassment.
 
He wondered what the Commandant had heard.
 
He swung his legs free of the cot and stood up, going easy on his injured knee.
 
The knee brace squeaked as he stood, in time with the creaking in his back.

Maybe the Navy’s right.
 
Maybe I am getting too old for this shit.

“Mouse!
 
Get it,” mumbled Charlie from his cot next to Cooper.
 
He jerked awake with the same look of confusion on his face that Cooper figured must have been on his own.
 
Charlie rolled off the cot and sprang to his feet.
 
“Where’s our gear?”

The Commandant nodded to the dark corner at the back of the room.
 
“Back there.
 
Don’t worry, nothing’s missing.
 
We just figured you boys deserved some sack time.
 
You pretty much passed out on the way here.”
 
He checked his watch.
 
“Been sleeping for sixteen hours now.”

“Too long,” said Cooper, rubbing his back.
 
He cleared his throat.
 
He glanced around the dimly-lit briefing room.
 
He kicked Mike’s cot and the short SEAL stirred and coughed.
 
The others began to rise.
 

“Where are we, sir?” he asked.
 

“This is the new…well, they’re calling it the Pentagon, but there’s only one Pentagon and everyone knows it.
 
This place looks more like an
outhouse
to me.”
 
He shrugged.
 
“That’s for the desk-jockeys to sort out.
 
We’re in Denver, setting up shop in the new Capitol, or close enough.
 
Technically we’re at the damn airport, but nobody seems to care.
 
I’m more interested in killing Koreans.
 
How about you?”

“New Capitol?” asked Charlie.

“Denver?” asked Jax, sitting up in his cot.
 
He examined the fresh bandages on his arms in amazement.
 

“Can’t you guys keep it down?” grumbled Mike, pillow over his head.
 
He yelped when Sparky slapped him in the back of the head.

“Yes, Denver,” said the Commandant loudly.
 
“The President—that would be Orren Harris now,” he said with a grin, “has declared Denver to be the new National Capitol.
 
This place has been prepped for the move from D.C. since World War II, I guess.”
 
He shrugged.
 
“Again, above my pay grade.
 
I’m a Marine, not a politician.”

“Long way from Chula Vista, man,” muttered Charlie.

“Sir,” said Cooper.
 
“Any word on Coronado?
 
My men have family—“

“Son,” said the Commandant in a softer tone.
 
“I’m afraid no one has had contact with the base there for quite some time.
 
That whole region of California was overrun in the first wave.”

“Overrun?” gasped Charlie.

“First wave?” asked Mike.

The commandant nodded.
 
“Damn Gooks were hell-bent to reach L.A. and went through Coronado and San Diego like shit through a goose.
 
That’s the bad news.”

“Oh Jesus…Allie, Junior—“ said Charlie, his voice cracking.

Cooper’s parents had been killed by the Blue Flu—he’d only ever had a few girlfriends in the past, so he couldn’t hope to understand the fear and worry that Charlie had been carrying around inside, but he could see it finally crack through to the surface.
 
Charlie, his cool, calm, never-flustered, Terminator-like XO raised a trembling hand to his face.

Cooper put a hand on his shoulder.
 
He looked at the Commandant.
 
“Sir—“

“Son, my own boy and his family lived in Long Beach.
 
I understand what you’re feeling.
 
And I’m sorry, I truly am.
 
There’s a shit-pot full of us who’re in the same boat.”
 
He stood up straighter.
 
“There is good news, though.”

Charlie’s shoulders shuddered and he sucked in a deep breath and came to parade rest, hands behind his back.
 
The Terminator was back.
 
Cooper turned to Commandant.

“Because the NKors were moving so fast—we think their objective was to cause some chaos and drive the civilian population before them, adding to the confusion which would allow them to reach Los Angeles unopposed.
 
It worked.
 
We got sporadic reports of heavy casualties along the coast, and then everything went dark and within hours L.A. was swarming with Koreans.
 
You boys ran into their advance scouts and got out just before the first wave rolled into town.”

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