John Ringo: Kildar

“I noticed,” Lasko said, waving at the acrid scent.

“The smell dissipates fast,” Mike said. “I’ve had ragheads walk by no more than fifty meters away and not smell them.” He pulled out a pouch of Mountain House chicken and noodles and waved at Lasko. “Go fix your own.”

“Shouldn’t someone be watching?” Lasko asked.

“Russell,” Mike said, waving towards the trail.

“Where… ?” Lasko said, then grunted. “I could barely find him.” The former Ranger had settled by a bush and his ghillie suit blended him in perfectly.

“Now you know why we’re using these,” Mike said, waving the enveloping coverage. “They’re hot as hell and catch on the brush, but when you wear one you fucking disappear. Go get some chow, you’ll be on watch soon enough.”

When the water was heated he put the stove away and dumped the noodles in the water. They mixed rapidly and he ate them while they were still close to boiling. As soon as he was done he finished off the water in the canteen, took a piss and crawled over to Russell’s position.

“Got it,” Mike said, sitting up slowly to look out over the valley.

“Thanks,” Russell said, getting up slowly.

“Have Praz do the schedule,” Mike said. “I’ve got first.”

“Will do,” Russell said.

Mike leaned back against one of the boulders and let his mind go open. It wasn’t numb by any stretch of the imagination, just open to the whole environment. He listened to each of the sounds in the environment, categorizing them as his eyes ceaselessly swept the valley. The clouds were definitely moving in; there’d be rain by nightfall. There was one farm in view in the small valley, the usual high mountain setup much like that of the Keldara. This one ran goats, though, and he was a bit worried about that. But they were tending to stay down in the valley today; with the look of imminent rain the goatherds clearly didn’t want to be far from shelter.

Lasko came out to join him shortly after he got in position and Mike let the Keldara watch and listen to nothing. He wasn’t going to do instruction except instruction in remaining silent and alert. The Keldara, though, had that down from hours of hunting. The two of them stayed side by side for two hours until relieved by Killjoy and Vanim.

Mike woke up to a stirring in the camp at dusk. He’d showed Lasko how to attach his poncho to the poncho liner and had done so himself. He’d been glad for it when a light rain started to fall about an hour before. He hadn’t done more than wake up to the rain on his face and pull the poncho up over his head.

It was still raining when the team started to stir but he ignored it. The boonie caps shed most of the rain off his face, anyway. He didn’t even bother pulling out his Gortex, just set about making “breakfast” and doing his makeup. He’d given the Keldara a quick class in camouflage makeup the night before and now he had them redo it. It wasn’t the method that was generally trained; he preferred a simple tiger-stripe diagonally down the face. Russell did his makeup precisely according to the book, dark makeup on highlights and light on shadows. Killjoy effected the “Braveheart” look, with one side done in dark brown and the other striped. Praz actually made himself up like a figure from Kiss except in camouflage. Mike had never seen that any of the various ways of putting on the makeup made any difference as long as it reduced shine.

As soon as it was full dark they started off, swinging wide away from the farm and keeping to the eastern woodline to cross the valley. There was a swift-flowing stream at the base and they rigged a rope-line across it for the crossing. After that obstacle there wasn’t anything hindering them except the woods. They were dark and tangled and the team went in line ahead, cautiously moving through the brush. They were approaching one of the trails the Chechens might use and it wouldn’t do to stumble into them.

When they got near the trail Mike called a halt. He had the team array itself in a line parallel to the trail, then he doffed his ghillie suit and most of his gear, designating Vanim and Lasko to bring it up, then ghosted forward silently through the woods to the edge of the trail.

He was just in sight of Praz as he reached the trail and checked it out. There wasn’t anything moving in view and no noise, although that would be muffled by the rain. There also weren’t any tracks. Given that the rain wasn’t heavy yet, there probably would have still been some sign of two hundred guys and some mules moving through.

He waved the team forward, keeping an eye on the trail until they were across, then joining up with them at a rally point on the far side.

From there it was a climb up the ridge. There weren’t any useful trails in their area so they had to make their way through the brush. It was heavy going; the hill was steep and the brush thick. More than once they had to form a human chain to get over some obstacle. But by midnight they were on the top of the ridge and looking for a good observation point.

They’d been able to see the easternmost trail most of the way up the hill, but it wasn’t until they got to the top that they could see the western one. They stopped for a time when they reached the top and Mike and Praz scanned both trails looking for signs of the Chechens. The rain had increased but Mike ignored it, searching the west trail for any glimmer of heat signs. He picked up a few, but they were all animals. The Chechens weren’t here.

It was likely, frankly, that they weren’t going to show. The intel was light, to be honest, and there was no real reason for a “battalion” of Chechens to attack the Keldara. Such a heavy attack might force the government of Georgia to finally react. And it was a long way from their real enemies, the Russians. On the other hand, they could be reacting to being stung by the intel Mike had passed. It wasn’t smart, but the Chechens weren’t usually described as “smart.”

However, they weren’t here. Vadim had been talking to the farmers in the area and if the Chechens had passed down the valley they couldn’t have missed them. Hell, the farm probably would have been a smoking wreck. And there really weren’t many trails they could have used to the east. So either they weren’t coming or Mike’s team was in place ahead of them.

After ensuring their quarry wasn’t on the trail, Mike led the team up along the spine of the ridge towards a high prominence. He’d spotted it from their first OP and it looked like a good place to set up, a group of rocks at a high point on the ridge. From there they should have a good view of both trails.

It took about an hour to make it up to the designated OP but when he got there he found it was nearly perfect. Erosion had worn away underlying rock, leaving a series of large granite boulders that had fallen in on themselves. There were even a few dry semi-caves under the rocks and the team crawled into their shelter gratefully.

“Okay, same list as last night,” Mike said. “Lasko and Me, then Killjoy and Vanim, Russell and Otar. Praz gets a double day-shift. No fires tonight, not even chem fires.”

Mike took the opportunity to pull out his Gortex rain-gear and showed Lasko how to use it, then the two of them took up a position overlooking the trails. Mike had Lasko watch the western trail, which was less likely to be used, while he watched the eastern. Both of them stopped from time to time to check their surroundings as well. Mike figured even with the rain they would hear anyone coming before they were in view.

When Mike’s shift was over he tried the radio. The box was designed to be used with the microboxes and instead of sending out a strong signal designed to bounce off the ionosphere or use ground conduction, it sent out a light signal, slowly increasing, as it hunted for what was, essentially, an internet router. They’d set up a box on the far ridge and it should be in range. Finally the signal strength went to nearly full and he keyed the mike.