“Affirmative, Base.”
Hoping his Kevlar armor and helmet would keep him protected—knowing that if reinforcements arrived before he could secure a car, he probably wouldn’t get one—Goose stepped into the garage with an MP5 in each hand.
The guy in the corner had evidently been hit because he didn’t even try to move. The 9mm rounds knocked him back against the wall and put him down. Goose targeted the guy behind the steering wheel in the big four-wheel-drive Ford Explorer and squeezed the trigger.
A fist-sized hole appeared in the windshield over the driver’s head.
“Am I clear?” Goose asked.
“Clean and green inside, Alpha Leader.”
Goose called for Hannah, picking up his speed till he reached the Explorer. The vehicle was expensive and a long way from home, proof that the drug-money profits were considerable. The custom paint job further elaborated on that.
The driver’s door was unlocked. He opened it, reached in, and yanked the dead man from behind the steering wheel. He tripped the electronic locks, opening all the doors.
“Get in, belt up, and stay down,” Goose ordered. The key was in the ignition and the engine was running. There was no electronic garage-door opener. Evidently not all options were available.
“Alpha Leader, you’ve got a T-72 parked nearly at your doorstep. Hey, the turret is swiveling. He’s targeting the garage.”
Goose pulled the gearshift into drive, thanking God that the vehicle was an automatic, and floored the accelerator. The reinforced front end plowed through the tin-and-wood garage door.
Thirty yards out, Goose sideswiped the T-72 main battle tank just as the main gun fired. The collision shivered through the Explorer but the big vehicle held together. Metal screeched in his ears. Then he realized why he hadn’t seen the tank: The underground caverns that had held the fuel stores were fiery pits of forty-foot orange flames with serpentine coils of black smoke that looked gray against the night sky.
“Base,” Goose called over the headset. He stripped off the NVGs and tossed them on the floor.
“Go, Alpha Leader.”
Goose drove through burning hulks of APCs and tanks. Maybe Lieutenant York’s team hadn’t gotten all of their targets, but they’d gotten most of them. He steered for the airfield.
“Where are the evac birds?”
“Birds are in the air, Alpha Leader,” Lieutenant Keller responded. “We tried to hold back but were ordered to move.”
Goose thought about that. Remington had to have known he was in motion, had to have known he had the three women with him.
“How far out are the incoming Syrian birds?” Goose asked.
“Less than a minute away,” the op tech said. “Closing fast.”
“Alpha Leader,” Remington said, his voice strong and cold. “Those birds will not sit down. If they do, I’m going to lose twentysomething Rangers while trying to save one.”
And three women, Goose thought, but he didn’t say anything. “Understood, Base. We won’t need them to land. We’ll make a transfer from the vehicle I’ve commandeered to the helo.” He cut the wheel, catching sight of a tank’s turret spinning in his direction. A second later the main gun belched flame and the round whistled past them to explode against the ground and leave a huge crater.
“Too risky,” Remington said.
“We can do it,” Keller said.
“I’ve got three women with me,” Goose said.
“We’re not going to leave those women behind, Base,” Keller said.
“Affirmative,” Remington said, but he didn’t sound happy.
“Base,” Keller called out, “get me a lock on Alpha Leader.”
“Base, Alpha Prime, be advised that I’m running due north.” With the four-wheel drive, Goose was able to cross the broken terrain. He kept the accelerator down, mowing over everything that wasn’t big enough to stop him.
“Alpha Leader,” Keller said, “we have you in sight.”
The Explorer bounced and careened over the rough ground.
Glancing up, both hands on the wheel, Goose saw one of the Mi-8s descend on him like a hawk taking a mouse. Four Rangers hung from lines from the helo. The helo pilot matched speeds with the Explorer and seconds later, the Rangers landed on top of the luxury vehicle and grabbed hold of the luggage rack.
Hannah and the others put up only a small argument once they were advised that the Syrian air force was in pursuit. With the Rangers assisting them, they were hauled up on lines into the safety of the Mi-8.
Goose was given his own line. He locked the Explorer into cruise control, opened the door, and stepped off into the loop of the line. For one dizzying second, he spun at the end of the line. Then everything straightened out as the Explorer went airborne and flipped end over end before catching on fire and exploding.
Seconds later, Goose was packed into the belly of the fleeing Mi-8 with the other Rangers, listening to Base’s report that the Syrian air force was pulling back in an effort to return to the main camp and help with the attack there that was proving devastating.
Goose gazed down at the battlefield. The fuel would burn for a while, as would the armored cav. As he watched, another T-55 blew up, then broke apart as the ammo touched off as well.
The mission was a success. They’d cost the Syrian army dearly and reminded them who they were facing. Five Rangers, including Fieldstone, had fallen. Six others were wounded.
As Goose sat on the bare metal floor of the helo’s cargo area, he watched as two of the medical corpsmen handed the women blankets and water and offered them food. Watching them, Goose remembered who they were fighting for and why.
But was the 75th going to be strong enough to stand up against whatever the Tribulation was going to throw at them?
He settled back against the metal wall and tried to relax, but images of Fieldstone getting killed just inches from him wouldn’t go away. Fieldstone had been young, too young to die.
How many young men were going to be required to make those kinds of sacrifices during the next seven years? And in the end, would they be
