girl back there in his trailer.
That had not worked, but
this
was what he, and his men. had needed all along.
The smell of blood.
This would prime them for the big action within the next twenty-four hours.
Then… the country would be theirs.
The power would be
his
.
The choppers zoomed along low at a little above tree level, the pilots pouring on speed toward the approximate coordinates
where the message from Locsin’s camp had estimated the attackers would be heading.
Who were they? Javier wondered, these daring ones he and his troops were on their way to intercept, to kill. Why had such
a unit struck at
this
moment in his grand scheme of things?
It did not matter.
The choppers would be upon that force within a minute or less, and no matter how good they were, they would not stand a chance
against four armed gunships and fifty or more of his best men.
The rumbling thunder of the copter in flight filled Arturo Javier’s ears, matching the pounding of his heart in his chest.
The smell of
blood
, yes.
Let the killing begin.
CHAPTER
FIVE
C raine braked the Chor-7 along the treeline of the clearing which was the LZ.
The second vehicle, filled with Cody, Hawkins, and Murphy, jounced up to stop side-by-side.
Full daylight washed the scene, the clearing long overgrown with vegetation. The upper fifth of the rising sun was a blazing,
eye-searing crescent muffled behind a gauze of mist haloing the jungle hills to the east.
Caine and Hawkins cut their engines and everyone debarked.
Cody experienced a surge of relief when he saw Ann Jeffers alight of her own volition from where she had ridden next to her
mother.
Mrs. Jeffers moved beside her daughter, an arm around the teenager, but it was more a show of emotion than to steady her.
Ann looked glassy-eyed and shaken up, not hysterical or panicky.
Hawkeye and Richard automatically faded away from the Chor-7s in separate directions, their weapons up in firing position,
establishing a security perimeter as best they could, while Cody and Rufe stepped forward to meet the Jefferses. Murphy kept
his back to the scene and his own rifle pointed outward, ready for trouble from any direction.
The only sounds around them for the moment were the unending screechings of jungle wildlife in the trees and on the ground.
Cody read the question in Cal Jeffers’ eyes.
“I radioed in our chopper,” he told them. “It’ll be along any minute.”
“Locsin’s men will be after us—” Jeffers began.
“On foot, maybe,” Murphy grunted, overhearing.
“They could loose mortars on us from back there if they are after us,” Cody acknowledged, seeing no reason to soft-peddle
the situation to Jeffers, who had to be a realist after all his years with the Company. “When that chopper of ours touches
down, everyone run straight for it no matter what.”
As if on cue,
whompa!-whompa!-whompa!
sounds discerned themselves, approaching.
The tell-tale throaty engine racket of choppers.
Louise Jeffers’ eyes lifted skyward along with everyone else’s, her expression taking on renewed animation, like a believer
searching the heavens for a sign from God.
It’s them… they’re
coming
! We’re going to make it!”
Cody felt a grimace tauten his features.
“There should only be one.”
He held there another heartbeat, his ears reading those sounds of war coming their way. Like Nam, yeah.
“If our dudes had backup, we’d’ve heard about it,” Murphy worried. “And they’re coming in from the wrong goddamn direction.”
Caine and Hawkins emerged then from the density of humid green surrounding them.
The chopper sounds grew louder, closing in at full throttle, less than two kilometers—maybe seconds—away.
“Mount up,” he instructed, indicating the Chor-7s. He looked at Caine. “We’ll pull their fire away from you. Try to raise
our bird on the radio. Tell him what we’ve got.”
Everyone scrambled aboard the vehicles.
Caine wore an
That had not worked, but
this
was what he, and his men. had needed all along.
The smell of blood.
This would prime them for the big action within the next twenty-four hours.
Then… the country would be theirs.
The power would be
his
.
The choppers zoomed along low at a little above tree level, the pilots pouring on speed toward the approximate coordinates
where the message from Locsin’s camp had estimated the attackers would be heading.
Who were they? Javier wondered, these daring ones he and his troops were on their way to intercept, to kill. Why had such
a unit struck at
this
moment in his grand scheme of things?
It did not matter.
The choppers would be upon that force within a minute or less, and no matter how good they were, they would not stand a chance
against four armed gunships and fifty or more of his best men.
The rumbling thunder of the copter in flight filled Arturo Javier’s ears, matching the pounding of his heart in his chest.
The smell of
blood
, yes.
Let the killing begin.
CHAPTER
FIVE
C raine braked the Chor-7 along the treeline of the clearing which was the LZ.
The second vehicle, filled with Cody, Hawkins, and Murphy, jounced up to stop side-by-side.
Full daylight washed the scene, the clearing long overgrown with vegetation. The upper fifth of the rising sun was a blazing,
eye-searing crescent muffled behind a gauze of mist haloing the jungle hills to the east.
Caine and Hawkins cut their engines and everyone debarked.
Cody experienced a surge of relief when he saw Ann Jeffers alight of her own volition from where she had ridden next to her
mother.
Mrs. Jeffers moved beside her daughter, an arm around the teenager, but it was more a show of emotion than to steady her.
Ann looked glassy-eyed and shaken up, not hysterical or panicky.
Hawkeye and Richard automatically faded away from the Chor-7s in separate directions, their weapons up in firing position,
establishing a security perimeter as best they could, while Cody and Rufe stepped forward to meet the Jefferses. Murphy kept
his back to the scene and his own rifle pointed outward, ready for trouble from any direction.
The only sounds around them for the moment were the unending screechings of jungle wildlife in the trees and on the ground.
Cody read the question in Cal Jeffers’ eyes.
“I radioed in our chopper,” he told them. “It’ll be along any minute.”
“Locsin’s men will be after us—” Jeffers began.
“On foot, maybe,” Murphy grunted, overhearing.
“They could loose mortars on us from back there if they are after us,” Cody acknowledged, seeing no reason to soft-peddle
the situation to Jeffers, who had to be a realist after all his years with the Company. “When that chopper of ours touches
down, everyone run straight for it no matter what.”
As if on cue,
whompa!-whompa!-whompa!
sounds discerned themselves, approaching.
The tell-tale throaty engine racket of choppers.
Louise Jeffers’ eyes lifted skyward along with everyone else’s, her expression taking on renewed animation, like a believer
searching the heavens for a sign from God.
It’s them… they’re
coming
! We’re going to make it!”
Cody felt a grimace tauten his features.
“There should only be one.”
He held there another heartbeat, his ears reading those sounds of war coming their way. Like Nam, yeah.
“If our dudes had backup, we’d’ve heard about it,” Murphy worried. “And they’re coming in from the wrong goddamn direction.”
Caine and Hawkins emerged then from the density of humid green surrounding them.
The chopper sounds grew louder, closing in at full throttle, less than two kilometers—maybe seconds—away.
“Mount up,” he instructed, indicating the Chor-7s. He looked at Caine. “We’ll pull their fire away from you. Try to raise
our bird on the radio. Tell him what we’ve got.”
Everyone scrambled aboard the vehicles.
Caine wore an
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