Apocalypse Unleashed (41 page)

Remington didn’t intend to have to deal with that situation again. The men’s desperation had to be shored up in order to keep them thinking like soldiers.

But Goose was out there, and every Ranger around Remington was busy thinking the first sergeant was going to turn into John Wayne, Bruce Willis, or Arnold Schwarzenegger.

“Show me the communication,” Remington told the corporal manning the LADAR.

The device looked like a small version of a television camera on telescoping legs. The low profile made it hard for the enemy to spot.

“It’s the readout, sir,” the corporal answered. “Unless I move it around, we get a pretty constant readout. But a few minutes ago, Goose—Sergeant Gander—was able to ping the LADAR.”

“With what?”

“A laser range finder from an enemy gun, sir.”

Remington chuckled at that. That was Goose—inventive and ingenious under pressure. Remington realized again why he needed Goose alive at the moment and why having Goose around was going to be dangerous.

“He’s been using Morse code?” Remington asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“And you know Morse code?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How?” Other than a cursory introduction, most soldiers were no longer taught the antiquated skill. Everything on the battlefield these days moved in hyperbursts of encrypted transmissions.

“I was an Eagle Scout, sir.”

Remington looked at the young man and saw the innocence in his features. “Of course you were.” He had to give it to Goose. There probably weren’t many Eagle Scouts spread throughout the Rangers, and Goose had managed to find one who was operating a LADAR tonight. The sergeant’s luck was nothing short of incredible.

“Of course you were,” Remington said again.

The corporal clearly didn’t know how to react to that.

“Can you signal the sergeant?”

“Yes, sir. Unless something’s happened to him. But we haven’t heard anything.”

That didn’t mean that Cody’s mercenaries hadn’t slipped through the brush and slit Goose’s throat. Remington realized he hoped that hadn’t happened. He needed Goose if he was going to turn the battle at Sanliurfa into a victory.

And he fully intended to do that.

“Contact him,” Remington ordered.

“Yes, sir.” The corporal turned to the task. “You going to send a team after him, sir?”

Aware of all the eyes on him, from Danielle Vinchenzo’s to the other Rangers’, Remington knew there could be only one answer. He hated feeling the pressure, but he also knew that with one word he’d be painted a hero.

“Yes.”

“Thank God,” Danielle whispered. Several of the soldiers echoed the sentiment.

“You’ll need a team to go get Goose,” the corporal said. “I’m volunteering.”

“Noted, Corporal.” Remington looked out into the darkness.“But this is one mission I’m going to lead myself.”

Outside Sanliurfa
Local Time 2235 Hours

Goose watched the range finder’s digital readout increase and decrease as the LADAR painted it. He translated the Morse code in his head.

Remington here.

Yes, sir,
Goose signaled back. There was a lot more he could have written. Confusion warred within him. He hadn’t expected to talk to Remington.

U R in a fix.

Yes, sir.

I’m coming.

Just like that, Goose felt a huge weight lifted from his shoulders.

He wouldn’t have put money on that outcome. The smart thing for Remington to do would be to provide a distraction and cover fire while Goose and his companions beat it for the city walls.

U OK?
Remington asked.

Yes, sir.

Mobile?

Yes, sir.

All of U?

Yes, sir. All three.

There was a pause.
How many hostiles looking for U?

Unknown.

Sit tight.

Yes, sir.
Wearily Goose let out a tense breath.

“Are they coming?” Miller asked.

“Yeah,” Goose replied. “I talked to Captain Remington. We’re to sit tight until he signals.”

“Do you trust him?” Icarus asked. His gaze was flat and uncompromising.

The question brought Goose’s own inner turmoil to a head. “Yes.”In this, with so many Rangers watching, Goose did.

But if the circumstances were different? He didn’t know. That bothered him. He shoved the question from his mind.
Concentrate on staying alive and getting back to your unit. That’s your job right now.

“Get ready,” Goose advised them. “When we start moving, there’s gonna be no looking back.” He turned to face the darkness again.

Local Time 2304 Hours

The rain slackened off. Water still ran on the muddy ground, but it didn’t have the same volume as before. Rain dropped steadily from the trees and brush where Goose lay concealed. With the night covering them, the water was cold and felt like it seeped into his bones. He shoved his injured knee into the mud and hoped the chill would numb some of the gnawing pain.

Evidently one of the more enterprising Syrian officers had decided to take advantage of the lull in the rain. Scout teams moved over the terrain, probably looking for new areas to dig in against the attacks they felt certain would come in the morning.

Or to prepare for the attacks they would launch themselves.

Things were going to continue to be bloody. Goose knew that and tried not to think of the lives yet to be sacrificed.

At 2308 hours, the laser range finder registered an incoming message.

In position. Have your six. Remington.

Goose took a deep breath and pushed himself up into a squatting position. His left knee screamed in pain. It had swelled so badly he had trouble getting it to fold properly under him.

“Get up,” Goose said. He readied his M-4A1.

Miller prayed aloud as he got to his feet.

Icarus stood without comment. His face was solemn, streaked with mud.

“We go slow,” Goose said, “until we have a reason not to.”

“Is there going to be some kind of signal?” Miller asked.

“When the bullets start flying, if you live long enough to see them or hear them,” Icarus said, “that’ll be your signal.”

Goose didn’t think he could have put the situation any more succinctly. “All right, let’s go.” He led the way, staying with the brush line as much as he could, not taking a direct path toward the city.

The enemy—all of them—would be watching for that.

Local Time 2310 Hours

Remington waited in the territory where he knew Goose was headed. Satellite recon had picked up Goose and the other two men coming through the trees on the southwest side of the city. There wasn’t much cover there, but it was enough. The Syrian scout forces kept trying to encroach from the southeast, where the trees were thicker. Snipers kept those efforts thinned out.

In a prone position, Remington lay with a sniper rifle resting on a bipod and took aim 517 yards away. He was good with the weapon, better than many of the men in his unit. And there wasn’t anyone he trusted more to make the shots he needed to make.

He swept the crosshairs across Goose, thought momentarily how easy it would be to erase that threat, then struck the thought from his mind. He could still use Goose.

Instead, Remington tracked the two men who crept up on Goose’s position. The captain slid his finger over the trigger and let out half a breath. Then he squeezed.

Local Time 2310 Hours

A warning tingle ran through Goose and let him know he was in someone’s sights. The warning was more instinct than physical, one of those skills that tended to vanish as men got more civilized about their killing. But he’d honed it on dozens of battlefields and trusted it completely.

Someone was ahead of them in the darkness, lying in wait in the scrub brush. And he had his sights on the three of them.

“Down!” Goose whispered hoarsely, twisting and reaching for the chaplain behind him. He caught Miller’s Kevlar vest and yanked him down just as someone ahead fired. The muzzle flashes were almost invisible in the darkness, letting Goose know the shooter was using a flash hider, and the sound was barely audible, signaling the use of a silencer. The bullet smacked against the Kevlar covering Goose’s back. If the armor hadn’t been there, the round would have cored through his heart.

Icarus cursed as he took cover behind a tree.

Goose placed his free hand on the back of Miller’s helmet and forced the man’s face into the mud. The chaplain’s first response was to try to look up, but Goose held him down. Goose lay still and held his assault weapon in one hand. He kept his head pressed against the earth and scanned the skyline.

In the next moment, a body pitched out of the darkness. A second passed, and another ambusher sprawled to the ground only a few feet away from the first. Goose didn’t know who the sniper was that had saved them, but he was grateful to be watched over.

Then the sound of both shots echoed over the immediate area.

Syrian soldiers yelled to each other not far away. Someone swung a spotlight in Goose’s direction. The light missed him by inches, but already Syrian troops massed to investigate.