John Ringo: Choosers of the Slain

“Oh, that was very cool,” Gena said. The helicopter had pulled up high enough that he could see the entire road and they had added some flares so the scene was fully lit. The buses carrying the “reaction force” were twisted across the road every which way and three were on fire. Only the rear two buses appeared unscathed.

“Sawn, this is Anton,” the fire team leader said. “The reaction force is… not having a good night. They will be late to the party.”

“Good,” Sawn said. “One good piece of news. How long to the town?”

“Perhaps three minutes,” Anton said, cocking the door-mounted MG-240. “I take it you have more work for us.”

“Yes,” Sawn said. “Hurry.”

Oleg had been hit two more times, but had only been able to pull back half the block. He knew he was bleeding too much, but he could barely take time to cram bandages on the wounds.

“Juris, you there?” Oleg called weakly.

“Above you, brother,” the sniper replied.

“There are fighters on the roof over you,” Oleg said. “Pull out.”

“You don’t have any cover, brother,” the sniper pointed out. “I’ll stay.”

“Go,” Oleg said. “Go now. That is an order.”

“Going,” Juris said after a moment. “But I thought I’d shoot the fellow about to drop a grenade on you.”

“Thank you,” Oleg said, stroking the trigger. He was almost out of ammo for the 240 and Sveryan, who had picked up the spares, had already been pulled back with a sucking chest wound. What was that song that the Kildar sang?

“And in the fury of this darkest hour, we shall be your light,” Oleg said, tracking a moving figure on the rooftop opposite and stroking the trigger. The machine gun spat out three rounds and then went silent. “ You’ve asked me for my sacrifice, and I am Winter Born…”

“Oleg,” Juris whispered. “Get up.”

“Get out,” Oleg replied. “Go.”

“Not without you, brother,” the sniper replied, targeting a figure on the far rooftop. The man seemed to stumble and then fell into the street but the single shot, even with the silenced sniper rifle, had attracted a hail of fire from all along the street. “Time to crawl.”

“Bit hard to do,” Oleg said, choking. “But, yes, we crawl…”

As they tried to leave the shelter of the stairs, though, rounds cracked all around them.

“Or not,” Juris sighed. “Perhaps we stay here, yes?”

“I told you,” Oleg replied, laughing redly. “You should listen to your brother.”

“I would much prefer to be in the house, yes?” Juris said, leaning against the wall and trying to search for targets. “Having some of Mother Lenka’s brew.”

“I would rather be in bed with Lydia,” Oleg said. “If you make it, tell the Kildar…”

“We will both make it, brother,” Juris said, knowing he was lying. “But I will tell the Kildar…”

He paused as a body dropped from the window above, spinning to fire and then checking.

“You see!” the girl behind him said. “I told you it was Juris and Oleg! Here,” she added, tossing him three boxes of ammunition for the MG-240. “Get to work, Juris. You always were lazy!”

“Elena,” Oleg said, blinking his eyes in surprise. “Catrina? Is it really you?”

“I wondered how long it was going to take for you to find us,” Elena said, making a moue. “I didn’t expect it to be this long.” She reached down and yanked off her stilletto heels, rubbing her feet. “I’m so glad to get those off!”

“We’re not here for you,” Juris said, slipping the ammo into the machine gun and opening fire. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, especially bringing ammo!”

“Oleg, Juris,” Sawn said. “You there?”

“Here, Sawn,” Juris replied. “We could use some cover fire.”

“You’re about to get it,” Sawn said. “Get down.”

“Tell whoever is firing to be careful,” Oleg said, reaching up and pulling his sister in close as his eyes watered from more than pain. “We found Elena and Catrina.”

“Found us, hell!” Catrina said, hugging Juris triumphantly. “We had to find you!”

The Alloutte slid to a halt at the intersection of Dutris and Turla, behind the assaulting Albanians. As soon as the helicopter slowed, Anton and Gena opened fire.

The two MG-240s were firing down, suppressing or engaging everyone along the street as the Allouette slowly tracked back and forth. They started with the rooftops, firing from above and behind the attackers that had made their way up there, then started on those on the street.

The Albanians, caught in a crossfire from behind and above, didn’t have many choices. Mostly, they died. Some ran into the buildings, a few managed to retreat under the helicopter, but they weren’t much better off there. Efim and Vitaly, the other two members of the blocking team, had found a case of fragmentation grenades. Anyone headed for the helicopter found frags dropping on them from great height. Due to the timing of the frags and the distance to the ground, most went off before they hit. This didn’t do the retreating pimps and guards much good, though, since that just meant the frags spread around better.

As the fighters near the helicopter were suppressed, the pilot slid the helicopter sideways down the road, letting the machine gunners and grenadiers engage more targets. However, it started taking fire from hidden riflemen in the windows of the houses along the street and backed off.

“Sawn, this is Anton” the team leader called. “What’s the status?”

“Pull off,” Sawn called. “All personnel recovered. We’re beginning extraction. Come to the other end of Dutris and cover us as we leave.”

“Got it,” the pilot called, pivoting the bird up and around. “Will do.”

“Anybody got any idea how we’re doing?” Antoniya asked.

What was that line the Kildar used?

“Don’t count your cards while they’re sitting on the table,” Sawn growled. “Just shag your ass.”

“So, you are MI-6?” Katya asked, confused, as the agent began uncuffing her.

“Yes,” Calthrop said, grinning. “Lord Arnold thought you might like some backup.”

“I never suspected,” Katya admitted, rubbing her wrist and ankle as the cuffs came off.

“I had extensive amateur thespian experience at Oxford,” Calthrop said, walking over to Natalya and cutting the rope around her neck. “I must say that my Sancho Panza was well regarded by the Oxford Gazette . I have a clipping around here somewhere…” he added, patting his pockets.

“I think we talk about it later,” Katya said, wincing as she got to her feet. “There are things going on in town…” she continued just as a series of distant thumps carried over the night air.

“Ah, yes, your raid by the Keldara, what?” Calthrop asked. “And, of course, there are the two cars that appear to be coming up the hill.”

“Oh, shit,” Katya said. “Vanner, Vanner, can you hear me?”

“It’s Lydia, yes,” Lydia replied in her ear.

“We’re okay, for now,” Katya said. “But there are cars.”

“The one in the lead is Mikhail,” Lydia said. “The other is reported but who it is is unknown. A Land Rover. Definitely following you and probably hostile.”

“It would have been nice to know that before now!” Katya snapped.

“You seemed a bit busy,” Lydia said with a hint of humor in her voice. “The bulk of the force is engaged in the town or on other operations. Kildar says that you need to run, or fight, your choice, but hold on for a few more minutes until we can get some support to you.”