Arctic Storm Rising Dale Brown (literature books to read TXT) 📖

“Screwed up my landing, sir,” the marksman said blearily. “I think I busted my leg.”

Sanchez nodded. “Me and Wade here splinted it and gave him some painkillers, but Tor can’t walk on that broken leg, so I hadto carry him.” He saw the astonished look on Flynn’s face and said quickly, “It wasn’t that far, Captain. Not more than ahalf a mile.”

Flynn stared at him blankly. A half a mile. Through snow and ice in below-freezing temperatures. Damn, he thought with suddenpride, these men were good. And to think he’d first seen these guys as the Grimy Ten, a bunch of no-hopers foisted on him by other officers who weresmart enough to get rid of them. He felt a moment’s regret that Airman Mitchell had been the one man who’d folded up in thecrunch. Despite M-Squared’s occasional goofball tendencies, he’d seemed to be shaping up well.

“You’re not going to leave me here, are you, sir?” Pedersen asked suddenly, sounding worried.

“Oh hell no,” Flynn assured him, as a way to solve this problem abruptly unfolded inside his mind. It was just a questionof applying their very limited but very real resources to the task in hand. “You can ride on the one sled that mostly survivedthe drop. We’ll fix it up and rig a couple of rope harnesses so we can take turns pulling you, like sled dogs.”

Behind him, he heard Hynes mutter, “Geez, M-Squared on the run, all our snow machines wrecked, and now a busted leg to topit off. Crap, the sarge is going to be really, really pissed off.”

Flynn raised his head in sudden concern. He looked around the circle of faces. Everyone else except Takirak had already arrivedat the rally point. So where was the veteran NCO? Lying out there somewhere in the dark, injured himself or maybe dead? He scrambled back to his feet, readyto order out a search party to go look.

At that moment, Takirak came gliding into view, moving across the snow on snowshoes with easy, practiced strides. Despite the fact that he had the PRC-162 manpack radio slung over one shoulder, and his own rucksack and M4 carbine on the other, he looked surprisingly fresh.

“Sorry I’m late, sir,” he told Flynn apologetically. “The wind carried me a ways farther than I hoped.”

“Glad you could finally join us, Sergeant,” Flynn replied with a slight smile to take away some of the sting of his words.Quickly, he outlined their current situation.

Takirak nodded stoically. “Well, it could be worse, I suppose,” he allowed.

Flynn saw Hynes roll his eyes dramatically and stifled a laugh. “I guess so, Andy.” He nodded to the radio the sergeant carried.“But if that thing’s still working, we need to report in.”

While the rest of the unit moved off to gather up any surviving supplies and work on the damaged sled, he and Takirak squatteddown on the snow around the radio. Working efficiently, the sergeant unfolded the unit’s satellite communications antenna,angled it toward the horizon, and plugged in a battery pack.

As soon as he was done, Flynn flipped the power switches to on. They didn’t have any time to waste. The PRC-162’s batterieswere rated to minus twenty-two degrees Fahrenheit, but prolonged exposure to extreme low temperatures would reduce their effectiveness.He picked up the handset. “Kodiak Six to Jaybird One. Kodiak Six to Jaybird One. Come in, Jaybird.”

A squeal of static was the only answer.

With a frown, Takirak adjusted the antenna position. Above the Arctic Circle, it was often difficult to link with communications satellites in geosynchronous orbit over the equator. The extremely low angle required meant signals had to cross more atmosphere, with all the resulting distortion and loss of power. Plus, these high latitudes also adversely affected the refraction of radio signals. The Russians had far fewer communications problems in the Arctic, thanks to their own constellation of satellites in special polar orbits.

“Kodiak Six to Jaybird One,” Flynn tried again.

This time, a static-laden voice replied. “Jaybird One copies, Kodiak Six.” They’d reached Alaskan Command, six hundred miles south at Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson.

Swiftly and concisely, Flynn outlined their current status and location.

“Understood, Kodiak. Suggest you proceed to Site Alpha—” More high-pitched static squealed across their weak connection.

Flynn clicked his mike. “Affirmative on that, Jaybird.” Before it failed, satellites had picked up an F-22 Raptor’s emergencylocator beacon about four miles southeast of their current position, somewhere near a range of steep hills that separatedthis particular valley from the next one over. It was labeled Site Alpha on their mission planning map.

“Recommend extreme caution,” Alaskan Command continued. “The Russians have already engaged in open hostilities to prevent CSAR operations in your area. Our runways here are still closed. We can’t provide any reinforcements or air support if you run into trouble.”

“Copy that, Jaybird One,” Flynn acknowledged. “Kodiak Six, out.”

He shut off the radio and waited while Takirak disconnected the battery and stuffed it back in his rucksack to stay warmer.“Nice to know they’re worried about us. Now, at least,” he commented.

The sergeant shrugged his shoulders. “Ass covering is a fine art,” he said irreverently. He looked at Flynn. “What are yourorders, Captain?”

“We’ll march southeast along the valley toward that downed F-22,” Flynn decided. “But not until everyone’s gotten some food into them.” Extreme cold and exertion burned calories far more rapidly than anyone not used to Arctic conditions could imagine. And fatigue could easily become a lethal weapon in this climate. “Then we’ll move out, deployed in a skirmish line. I want to cover as much ground as we can. We know where one wrecked aircraft might be, but there are at least four others out there somewhere.”

Takirak nodded. “Sounds sensible, sir.” He stood up and slung the radio over his shoulder again. “With your permission, I’lltake point.”

“Good idea, Andy,” Flynn agreed. The older man had decades of experience surviving in this type of rugged terrain and severewinter weather. Relying on him to be their advance scout made perfect sense.

Thirty-Three

Crow Field, inside the Arctic National Wildlife