Backlash: Prequel to The Wildblood Series (8 page)

“Who?” Green asked.

“Both of you.  I'll be sending other officers up there as we clear the area.  We're taking that last helicopter tomorrow.”

“Where's Mac?” Shan asked, genuinely exhausted.  If she had anything to say to him about the events of the night, it would be later, much later. 

Wade gestured to a line of vehicles that had converged on the area.  “Mac's here.  Say 'hello', say 'goodnight' and go,” he told her.  “I need you sharp.”

“I want an RPG,” she said, figuring it was worth a try.

“I want a helicopter crew intact, but that's not happening.  Neither is the RPG for rookies barely allowed out of the dayroom.”

Shan nodded.  “Fair enough.  You better shoot first this time.”

Sept 29, before 6am, near Sheridan

A tapping sound woke her and Shan sat up, wondering where she was.  Backseat of her car, apparently, covered in a blanket but not much in the way of comfortable.  Mac was standing there, a cup of what she hoped was coffee in each hand.  There was barely light along the eastern horizon.

“Are those for me?” she asked, getting out of the car as gracefully as she could manage.

“One of them is,” he offered her a cup.  She took it.  “Wade told me to wake you up and tell you we're on today.”

“Good,” she decided after a moment and a sip of lukewarm coffee.  “I'll be ready in ten minutes.”

“You have thirty.  Get breakfast.  Someone has a mess tent set up over by the creek.  We'll find you soon.”

“So do we have a plan?”

He raised his eyebrows.  “Wade?  Without a plan?  You need more sleep.”

Shan nodded, heading off to find food.  Dehydrated rations that might have been eggs and bacon.  Cars were parked under trees and tents carefully camouflaged.  There was a fresh coating of snow on the nearby peaks.

Officers had already begun gathering and Wade was there with Ballentyne and Jasso.  “Let's get moving,” he finally announced.  “You've got your assignments.  Drive around in the open.  Kick up clouds of dirt, be noisy, attract attention.  The second you hear or see any Nomad, any sign of that helicopter, you announce it to everyone.  If you have a shot at it, take it.  If that helicopter swings around to make a run at you, hide.  Get in the trees and stay there.  Call for help.”  Wade knew they trusted him; he wasn't about to betray that trust by missing this opportunity.  The Nomads were close and winter was setting in. 

“If you have any questions or concerns, now is the time,” he finished.  Wade beckoned for his team to join him for a moment.  “If we sense anything early, fantastic,” he started.  “If we don't, it's no big deal.  Don't read anything in to it because it's not a concern.”  They both nodded.  “Let's go drive around.  Shan you're out first, Mac five minutes later, me five minutes after that.  You know the route.”

Mac caught her arm.   “Wait,” he said, wrapping his arms around her.  “I'm going to be close, damned close, all day long.  If you think you need to call us, do it.”

“You don't think I should be out here,” she said rather than asked.

“I wish you weren't.  You're as qualified as any of us to deal with a helicopter.”

“I suppose I am.”

“Be careful.  If you get that urge, if you need to run, do it.”

“I understand,” she offered.  “The same thing applies to you.  It's entirely appropriate for Team Three to bail the hell out if there's a helicopter involved.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I'm fucking bored, I'm fucking bored,” Shan repeated over and over, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel as she headed south on Highway 287 again.  It was her fifth round; ten miles south, turn around, ten miles north, three miles west, turn around, three miles east.  Her mother had told her swearing wasn't ladylike, so she tried to do less of it.  Not that she was concerned with being ladylike.  Deirdre could make her feel guilty over pretty much nothing, and that was one of those things.

Today was an exception.  Shan looked at the radio and announced, “I'm fucking bored.”  She didn't have to put it on the air for Wade to be aware.  So was he, so was Mac, and every other officer wandering up and down the roads around Sheridan.  Nothing was out-of-the-ordinary this morning, not a trace of any activity that wasn't theirs.  The sky was clear, with some high, wispy clouds to the north.  She tried to imagine the Black Hawk circling around so someone could get a clear shot at it; it didn't help.

“What time is it?” Green asked anyone who cared to answer.  He seldom wore a watch and the one he'd packed for his excursion to Dillon had burned in the depot, along with the rest of the gear Security stored there.

“Call it 7:30,” Mac responded.  Shan smiled to herself.  Both her partners were fairly relaxed, considering they were chasing a helicopter through icy mountain roads.

“Jasso, go ahead and take 41 north for about ten,” Wade started switching them off.  “Lambert, make a run around the old airport.”  They didn't have to answer.  “Officer Allen, do your regular route.  You and I and Mac need to meet up.  I'll let you know where in a few.”

True to his word, Wade came back on the air with instructions as she was turning.  “Allen and MacKenzie, rendezvous with me at the bottom of The Roost.”  It was a scenic overlook south of Sheridan; Security used it for just that.  “We may move the search north.”  He was getting restless.

Minutes later, a cold feeling crept up her spine.  It was a real sensation, not some imagined, fear-induced paranoia.  It made her ears ring and her adrenalin run.  She knew where the helicopter was, and it was behind her, moving in from the reservoir, perhaps, maybe even Yellowstone.  Wade hadn't specified if he knew, but considering they didn't all head south at daybreak, she doubted he'd been aware.

“Imminent Code Seven,” she announced on the air, dead calm.  Anyone that could hear it would understand.  “Three miles south of Robber's Roost.  It's the Black Hawk; I can feel it, coming up from the lake, I think.  It's going to intercept me before I get to the lookout.”

“You've got a V8 in that car and you're a Scout,” Mac came back immediately and not-so-calm.  “You floor it and find a place to fucking hide . . .”

“Officer Allen, we're five minutes away,” Wade cut in.  “There's a subdivision of houses right there off to your east.  Find cover until you get support from large arms.  Green, Ballentyne, Jasso, Taylor, get to the Roost now.  All other officers remain on your assigned routes.”  Wade thought they could have others on the ground, close, looking for trouble.  “Keep your eyes open, people.”

Shan did exactly what Mac had urged, pushing the car to ninety on the unmaintained road.  It was mostly paved and level, and a hell of a lot less dangerous than confronting a military helicopter, as far as she was concerned.  “I see the houses,” she told them.  “They look like they're falling down.”

“You need to hide there, not move in,” Wade answered.  “Can you see the helicopter yet?”

“I can hear it,” she said, veering off the main road and heading for the houses.  The car bounced erratically in the soft dirt and she was forced to slow down or risk losing control.  “Collar mic, I might lose signal,” she warned him, getting as close to cover as she could find.  “I'm out of the car and heading for the nearest house.”  She pulled into a row of pine trees that had long ago overgrown the sidewalk, throwing the car into park and bailing out.  The Black Hawk buzzed overhead, low and fast, banking hard.  “Shit,” she said to herself, knowing they'd seen her.  She snatched the AK from its rack and ran. 

It was uphill and it was cold out.  By the time Shan made it to the first switchback, she felt like someone had kicked her in the chest; no pain, but a deep ache from the icy air forced into her lungs.  Swinging around, she stopped and planted her feet, firing at the helicopter as it passed by again.  A sniper was firing back, their armaments apparently not in top-notch working condition.  More likely, she suspected, they were playing with her, just to see her run. 

“I said hide, not engage,” Wade repeated.  “That's an order.”

“They started it,” she answered, looking for shelter.  The first house wasn't much more than a skeleton, the partially-finished building showing fifteen years of weather.  She made a dash for it anyway, dodging past a pile of broken concrete.  Pausing, she waited for the helicopter to swing out to turn.  As it did, she sprinted to the next house.  It was more completed but still not much shelter.  There was no chance to move on to another because it looked like an avalanche had taken some of the construction sites.

“I'm in sight of The Roost,” Ballentyne announced.  “Five minutes.”

Shannon wondered if she had five minutes.  Her side twinged from the exertion.  As she tugged the body armor back in to place, she felt a damp and sticky patch along the edge.  “Shit,” she exhaled, examining the blood on her hand.  It was hers and it was fresh.  The sniper apparently wasn't as bad as she'd imagined.

“How bad?” Wade asked, knowing, sensing a tingling itch beginning across his left side.

“I can't feel it yet, I don't know.”  Shan told him, a burning sensation starting.  “I think it caught me under the edge of the flak jacket.”  When she stopped to shoot back, she figured.  Wade had been right, naturally.

“How bad what?” Mac asked, a feeling of helplessness catching him and not letting go.  He forced calm.

“A scratch, probably a ricochet,” she said.  “I'm okay.”

“No one panic,” Wade said.  “We have a medic en route.”

“Helicopter east of me,” Taylor said.

“I'm close,” Green verified.

“Me too,” Taylor chimed in.  “I'm on the county road and Jasso's in my dust.  His radio might be out again.”  They were closer, but on a trickier, slower road.

“They're coming back,” Shannon said, fleeing farther to the interior of the house.  The mounted machine gun screamed to life and she threw herself on the floor as parts of the house splintered and sent shards flying in all directions.  Scrambling away, she found the back half of the house was only framed out.  She made it to the deck, losing her headset in the process.  As the Black Hawk passed overhead, she caught two or three rounds in the jacket; one went through, slamming her into the wall.  When the helicopter circled around again, she knew she'd have nowhere to hide.  Throwing the AK over the side, Shan jumped off the deck, despite the ground being twelve feet below.  She hit the ground hard and rolled up under the deck.

Then the helicopter strafed the Security vehicle racing up the highway.  Wade's vehicle.  He could see the lead splattering into the pavement in front of him, almost as if it were happening in slow-motion.  It wasn't.  He swerved violently as the car took multiple hits.  Both front tires blew and the car went sideways into the gulch that followed the road.

“Wade,” Mac called.  Then, “Shannon.”

“I've got Wade's position,” Ballentyne said.  “Someone get up on the first switchback and take that damned thing down.”

“I'm there,” Green announced.

“Green, go on to the second switchback.  I'm right behind you,” Mac told him, suddenly in charge, with Wade off-the-air.  “Cover us from there.”

“I've lost visual on the Black Hawk,” Taylor told them.  “It was heading southeast.”

“Stay at the bottom of the overlook,” Mac said.  “Jasso, too, just in case.  All cars, hold your position until further notice.  Keep in cover.”  He hit the first corner too fast, skidding in the dirt, the back quarter panel glancing off a tree.  It didn't slow him down.  Shannon's car, abandoned on the next street did. 

“I'm out of the car, I may lose radio contact,” Mac announced.  “Ballentyne, if they blow me to hell, you're in charge.”  Switching the radio to all frequencies, he started a dialogue with whoever was out there, listening.  “If you can hear me, Black Hawk pilot, come on back here and shoot at someone that can defend themselves.  Or are you just a chickenshit with a dangerous toy?”  He had the trunk open and locked a warhead into place, hoisting the launcher and waiting.  Listening.  Trying to use those Gen En abilities he knew he possessed.

“It's coming back,” Shan whispered, knowing Wade could sense it and hoping Mac could.  It hurt to breathe; she wasn't certain if it was her or Wade.

“Helicopter south,” Ballentyne warned.

“I see him,” Mac said, to no one in particular.  “Let's dance.”

“Keep it steady,” Wade said, stuck in his car, with both doors jammed shut.  He could smell gasoline and smoke. 

For a few moments, it looked like the helicopter was going to go back south.  “Run away now, and we'll still find you later,” Mac said on the air.  “I promise.”

“They can't hear you,” Shan yelled across the road at him, making her way slowly.

“Stay there,” he yelled back, seeing the helicopter bank towards them.  “Stay out of sight.”

“Shoot it,” she urged.

“Out of range,” he replied, getting ready.

“What's the range?” Shan asked, needing to sit down suddenly from the exertion of walking up the hill.

“Two hundred yards or less.  The less the better.” 

“Their machine gun is jammed, that's why they haven't run at you.”  She sat down, dizzy.   “The sniper is pretty fucking sharp.  Hit me at least once.  Don't let them get overhead.”

“Great,” he said, keeping his attention focused even if he'd verified she was hurt.  She was mobile and talking.  “Here they come.”  Mac watched it weaving back and forth, moving fast.  Five hundred yards, then three hundred, then two hundred.  “Heads up, live fire.” 

Shannon passed out the moment after she watched the warhead hit the Black Hawk, almost dead-center.  As it exploded, she thought disjointedly how it looked like the fireworks adults in The Vista sometimes set off for holidays that used to be.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“She's aspirating out into the mask,” someone was shouting.  Shannon couldn't see anything and the voices sounded distant and hollow, as if they were yelling down a long corridor.  “Roll her on to her side, her lung is collapsing.” 

“Where's Green?” another voice called, one she recognized as Mac.  He was holding her hand, and she squeezed it.

“Wade's hurt, he's trapped in his car and it's burning,” Green returned.

“The helicopter is down,” Mac yelled.  “Call a Code Thirteen damn it, before we lose the whole team.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Oct 05, Station Three, White Sulpher Springs, mid day

“There are a few things about your special talents we should probably discuss,” Perro cut right to it.  He'd driven himself out to the Station, minutes after the Alert Six, the all-clear, went on the air.  Command had decided to actively recruit Capt. MacKenzie after he lead the teams to route Nomads at Dillon four days earlier. 

Both his partners were recuperating in the infirmary, in the east wing of the Station.  Away from the prying eyes and endless questions they'd be subject to in The Vista.  He'd spent four nights sitting next to Shannon while she slept, with the occasional trip across the hall to check in on Wade.  In a week, they'd both be itching to get home.