Braden nudged him. “Bunker three is worst. They always chip away at the rocks, making certain the slivers they break off and the sparks hit us. They’re in the best position to take us out, but bunker two has the best and most accurate shooters. They’re the ones that have taken out the helicopters. They’re all capable, I guess, but bunker two seems much more experienced.”
As far as Malichai could see, Braden O’Connell deserved a commendation, and if they got out of this mess in one piece, he intended to put the man up for one. Someone had to know how he conducted himself in the field under fire, even wounded as he was. He’d gathered intel, hoping to pass it on to anyone coming to rescue them.
“Do you have any idea how many men are manning each bunker?”
“I couldn’t get close enough. They have traps set out to warn them if anyone is sneaking up on them. I tripped them twice. Once at bunker three and once at bunker two. By the time I got to the first one, I knew what their traps were like.” He fished in his pocket and brought out a torn scrap of paper. His hand shook as he gave it to Malichai. “I drew them out the best that I could. It isn’t one hundred percent reliable.”
Malichai thought Braden was the epitome of a soldier. Even wounded, the man had crawled to the bunkers during the night, trying to get intelligence on positions, number of the enemy, and what weapons they had. He took the paper and looked it over carefully. There was far more firepower available to the enemy than they’d known. He didn’t want any of the helicopters coming near their position until he and Rubin had a chance to take the guns out.
The two GhostWalkers worked as quickly and as efficiently as possible once the terrible barrage of bullets stopped. The noise had been deafening. More, the bullets had hit all around them. The constant mortar fire hitting close to their shelter was terrifying. There was nowhere else to go. They were in the last of the boulders before they were at the top of the peak. They lived with the certain knowledge that sooner or later, the enemy would get tired of taunting them. They wouldn’t be that difficult to kill once the boulders were blown to bits.
It was bitterly cold at night, the temperature dropping drastically. Even with treating their wounds, giving blood, fluids and painkillers, the men weren’t going to last unless they got them out of there.
“We’re going to do this as quietly as we can,” Malichai told them as they handed out ammunition. “We don’t want you to try to help us. You just rest. Drink water. Try to sleep if you can. Don’t make noise or call out to us, you’ll just get us killed.”
“They have excellent night vision goggles,” Braden warned. “I learned that the hard way. I’m not certain any of us could come to your rescue.” He moved as if he might try.
Malichai put a hand on his arm to stop him. “Just take it easy. You especially, Braden. I’m going to need you when we make our move. Don’t worry so much, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”
Braden looked him over. Malichai knew there wasn’t much to see, other than he was combat-hardened. His experience showed in the lines in his face, in the calm he displayed under all conditions and in the flat, cold look in his eyes. The soldier nodded, a little reassured.
“You ready?” Malichai asked Rubin.
Rubin bent over Jerry. “I’m heading out now, but I’ll be back in time to haul your ass out of here. I want you alive, soldier. You got that? You have a family waiting for you at home. Jack’s right here if you need anything.”
“I’m with you, buddy,” Jack assured and reached out to grip Jerry’s wrist.
Jerry attempted a faint grin. “I’ll be here. Just lying around. Give me a gun. I’m right-handed.”
Rubin looked up to meet Malichai’s questioning gaze. No one wanted Jerry to take his own life. A decision had to be made. His team knew him better than they did. Both men looked to Braden.
“He’d never do that with us needing him. He knows every gun counts,” Braden whispered to Malichai.
Malichai gave the thumbs-up to Rubin, who put a gun on the man’s chest. “It’s loaded. Just point and shoot. Just make certain it isn’t pointed my way.”
“Depends on whether or not these meds wear off before you get back,” Jerry said.
Rubin gave him a grin, another pat and then turned his attention to Jack. “He’s a tough one, but you keep him down until I get back.”
Jack nodded while Jerry made derisive sounds. “That’s my momma, telling me I have to behave myself.”
“You keep that in mind.” Rubin crawled back toward Malichai, staying low. Together, they pulled out their gear and shed their snow clothing.
Their garb was specifically constructed for nighttime raids. They reflected their surroundings and, with their enhancements, it was easy enough to fade into the night. They both were capable of lowering their body temperatures to confuse the night vision goggles and still function without impairment. It was one of Malichai’s least favorite things to do.
“Helicopter will be here at dawn,” Rubin reported. “We’ll be back by then.”
They had to be or that meant they were dead.
Malichai regarded Braden as he shoved weapons into each of the carefully hidden compartments in his clothing. “You stay put. Jack, if he gets some wild hair that he’s coming after us, either sit on him or shoot him in the leg.”
“Not sure that will stop him,” Jack said. “But I’ll be glad to follow those orders, sir.”
Braden let out a groan. “You’re giving way too much authority to a bloodthirsty individual, sir.”
Malichai heard the strain in their voices, although they were trying to hide it with jokes. He gave them a small salute. “At dawn. Be prepared to move out fast.”
“I’ll get right on that, sir,” Jerry said.
Rubin turned and looked at Malichai. Crouching low, they moved to the very edge of the boulder line. The big rocks progressively got smaller, forcing them to go down onto their bellies. Movement always drew the eye. Someone from each of the three bunkers had to have been given the job to watch for anyone trying to sneak out of the encampment, especially after Braden had tripped a few of their traps.
The mountains of Afghanistan were home, in spite of the continual conflicts, to many wild animals, including snow leopards, lions, jackals, fox and the roaming ibex. Any number of animals might have triggered those traps, if Braden hadn’t left tracks for their enemies to find. It didn’t matter, they had to take out those bunkers in order to give the helicopter a chance to land safely and take the wounded home.
He signaled to Rubin to make his way to bunker two first. That was the one with serious firepower and the most experienced of the enemy fighters. If they couldn’t get to all of them, they had to at least kill those in bunker two. It would take an hour to make it across the snow-covered ground if they didn’t want to be seen. During that hour, the hope was the fighters would be taking a much-needed break, eating and, if they were lucky, going to sleep. Malichai would approach from one direction, with Rubin coming in from the opposite side.
Malichai proceeded to move inch by slow inch. He didn’t drag himself because he couldn’t afford to have drag marks be seen in the snow. He had to use his hands and feet to propel his body forward. Always, he had to keep his body inches from the ground. Without his enhanced strength, he could never have accomplished such a thing.