Chapter 77
Arctic
Kasey was on her back looking up at the sky. She lay stunned and still, a ringing in her ears drowning out every other sound. She felt pinprick pains on one thigh and on her back. An acrid chemical odor assailed her nostrils.
She looked down and saw fiery embers of some kind melting through the fabric of her pants along her right hip and leg.
She rolled in the snow, trying to douse whatever it was, then wiped away as much as she could with her gloved hand.
The stinging abated, and she realized some kind of burning liquid had sprayed over her in the explosion.
The ice all around her was covered with sheets of twisted metal and chunks of ice.
She figured the explosion had been instigated by either an RPG or a mortar, then accelerated by jet fuel.
Since she hadn’t seen any incoming round, she guessed the latter.
It had struck fifty feet to her right, a direct hit on a burning section of wing.
After a quick self-assessment, Kasey decided she’d suffered no serious injuries.
She looked back at Sharpe. He was holding his hands to his ears, probably fighting the same cymbals she was. Otherwise, he appeared the same.
She tried to think things through.
If they were being targeted by a mortar team, her initial take was that it might change the game.
But then she reconsidered. It could also signal desperation.
If this attacking force was platoon-size, as they’d been told to expect, they could only be carrying a limited number of rounds.
The fact that no more RPGs seemed to be coming their way implied the enemy had run out of them.
The ringing began to lessen, and she admonished herself.
Now wasn’t the time for analysis.
Kasey rolled onto her stomach and took hold of the Winchester again. As she put the stock to her shoulder, she noticed blood on her glove. Then a tingle of nerve pain in her left hand. It wasn’t affecting her motion, so she ignored it and started seeking out targets.
She heard metered fire to her left and saw Juri concealed neatly behind a car-size fragment of jagged metal.
The barrel of his weapon moved with liquid silkiness as he transitioned from one target to the next.
She looked where he was aiming and saw a man running at full speed toward them, perhaps eighty yards away.
Juri fired and the man went down clutching his throat.
Because a hit in the throat takes body armor out of the equation.
Kasey went back to searching, but targets were harder to find.
She heard a distinct whistling sound and put her head down.
Another mortar landed far behind them, a minor torrent of ice fragments being the only result.
The blast did, however, rekindle the ringing in her ears.
Kasey spotted a glint of movement well behind the other targets she’d seen.
Using her scope, she identified two men working a mortar tube.
She was lining up the crosshairs, trying to hold steady for a long-range shot, when one of them fell backward—also clutching his throat.
Before he hit the ground, the second man fell. Both shots had come from Juri.
There was no longer any doubt in Kasey’s mind. The Finn next to her was an incredible sniper, and he was decimating this Chinese force.
With each minute, the gunfire continued to ebb. Soon the inbound fire stopped completely, only an occasional outbound shot seeking a stray figure. Everyone kept watching, checking through scopes and scanning with sharp eyes. There was soon no movement at all in the distance.
Kasey turned her attention to Sharpe. She had no trouble finding his wound. A bullet appeared to have grazed his leg at a low angle and possibly damaged his knee. The good news was that the bleeding looked limited. Altogether, painful but probably not life-threatening.
“I don’t see any pulsing,” she said. “I think you’re good.”
After five minutes, Kasey saw the SEALs begin to emerge from their concealed positions.
Raine was limping and held his weapon in an unnatural way.
All of them remained alert, their eyes fixed on the distant ice field.
They joined up behind a large section of charred fuselage, and Kasey saw Drake beckon her and Sharpe to join them.
She helped Sharpe stand, and together they hobbled to the meeting.
All around them was a dystopian scene: mangled wreckage, plots of fire, churning columns of smoke.
By the time they reached the others, Juri and Raine had taken up watch positions—they were standing on the perimeter, their gazes directed outward but still within earshot.
Kasey saw that everyone had suffered some kind of damage—bloodstained uniforms, injured appendages, charred outerwear.
Everyone, that is, except Juri, who had nothing more than a light dusting of snow on his shoulders.
Drake didn’t rely on appearances. He asked who was injured, and the report was as positive as could be expected.
There were a number of wounds, but no fatalities—a minor miracle given the intensity of the assault they’d just faced.
He inspected Sharpe’s leg and came to the same conclusion Kasey had—it was a serious hit, but not life-threatening.
Kasey looked over at Chen. His eyes were open but unfocused. He was barely hanging on. She took off her glove and saw a ragged gash on the back of her left hand. It had stopped bleeding, so she put the glove back on. It could be dealt with later.
Right after we get the hell out of here.
“All right,” Drake said, “we did well. But we’re still in the shit.
We’ve lost our ride out, there’s more enemy inbound, and the nearest friendly force is a submarine that’s almost thirty miles away.
I don’t think we’re up for that kind of hike right now, so I need to get with JSOC and come up with an alternate exfil plan. ”
Nothing Drake had just said was news to Kasey.
Yet hearing it all at once, in such blunt terms, brought a massive wave of frustration.
Or possibly anger. After so much sacrifice, so much pain and suffering, she couldn’t fathom the idea that they could still lose Chen and Sky Fire.
But that was the reality—they were running out of options.
The only person missing from the group, Williams, had been sent on an errand by Drake. He reappeared now with a somber look on his face. “None of the crew from the Herc made it,” he announced. “I found all three bodies.”
It wasn’t a surprise, but it enraged Kasey that much more. The Air Force crew had attempted a landing in terrible conditions. They had put their lives on the line and almost pulled it off. Then their luck had simply run out.
Drake pulled out his satphone to initiate the call to headquarters.
He was working on getting a good signal when gunfire erupted in the distance. Everyone instinctively ducked lower. Juri shifted his aim with clockwork smoothness and said, “I’ve got him, Captain. Single target, moving away.”
“Take him down!” Drake ordered as the sequence of roughly a dozen shots ended abruptly.
The Finn seemed to hesitate. “Actually… he’s not an immediate threat.”
“What? How can you know that?”
“Because he’s using a handgun when he needs a rifle. And I’m one hundred percent sure he just ran out of ammunition.”
Drake squinted into the distance. The others mirrored his move, concentrating on the area where Juri’s barrel was directed.
Kasey saw one of the Chinese in the distance. He appeared to be sprinting toward the weather station shed. Then out of nowhere a massive form overtook him.
The huge polar bear lunged at the scrambling man and swatted him to the ground with its massive paws. Even from such a great distance, what had to be at least three hundred yards, the man’s screams resounded across the ice.