John Ringo: Kildar

Praz was engaged as well and Mike had taken down five targets when the Chechens hesitated and then began running back for the opposite tree line. By the time they’d gotten there, Lasko was finally shooting and before they reached the trees there were twelve bodies scattered on the green field. The farmer’s ox, meanwhile, had wandered away to the west, away from the gunfire.

“Lasko,” Mike called. “Move up the hill to the east. Stay concealed as much as you can. Move about thirty meters, find an overlook spot, then call.”

“Yes, Kildar,” the Keldara said. Mike could hear him move out, barely; the hunter was remarkably stealthy.

Mike spotted a Chechen moving on the far hillside and lined him up. He fired and saw the man drop out of sight, dead or at least wounded. Okay, maybe just scared and fast.

Some of the men on the ground were only wounded and one was crawling back towards the tree line. Mike let him get about thirty meters from the tree line and then carefully shot him in his remaining good leg. The man waved at the tree line for help, dropping back to the ground, then lifting himself up.

“You’re a bastard,” Praz said.

“Wait for it,” Mike replied. Sure enough, a Chechen darted out from cover, running to the man’s side.

“Yours,” Mike said.

There was a crack from Praz’s rifle and the “rescuer” fell to the ground.

“Kildar,” Lasko said, over the radio. “I am in position.”

“Go, Praz,” Mike called. “Leapfrog past Lasko.”

There was a sudden fusillade of shots from the far tree line and another Chechen darted into view. Mike ignored the shots, most of which weren’t even making it to their position, and again waited for the Chechen to reach the injured man in the field. This time, though, he shot him as he lifted the man up.

“You are a bastard,” Praz said over the radio. “I’m in my spot. Lasko’s well up the hill; don’t get in his line of fire.”

Mike pulled out of his position, moving slowly up the hill from bush to bush. The trees gave plenty of concealment but he wasn’t willing to take chances at this point.

“Kildar,” Lasko called. “I can see the main force of the Chechens at the opening to the trail. They are closing on your position.”

“Roger,” Mike said, swearing faintly. “I’m heading for the trail. You two, keep the second body under fire. When the main force gets fully in view, head straight up the hill to the first switchback.”

Mike quit trying to move slowly, instead going as fast as he could on the steep hillside, moving from one handhold on a tree to another. In a few minutes, he reached the trail and looked out towards the south.

The main body of the Chechen force was deployed in the field with a machine gun setting up to the west. He dropped to his knees and lined up the machine gun, taking out the gunner and AG and then darting onto the trail. At this point he was about five hundred meters from the Chechens and while he was in sight he was depending upon the distance and moving to avoid being hit. The machine gun might have gotten him, they were better for long distances, but so far the Chechens’ personal shooting had been no great shakes.

He stepped onto the trail and looked back at them, waving his rifle over his head and then putting it to his shoulder. As the group opened fire, he carefully lined up one of the fighters and shot him through the head. Then he turned and ran up the trail. The first bend was less than twenty meters away but by the time he reached it the trees around him were dropping leaves from the flurry of shots.

The trail was steep and any time he came in view of the valley he took fire so he had to hurry. By the time he got up to the area of the defile, he was puffing and blowing hard.

“Adams…” Mike gasped. “You see me?”

“Got you in view, man,” Adams replied evenly. “Come on through.”

Mike looked up the hillside from the defile as he ran through but even knowing there was an ambush up there, it was hard for him to spot the positions. Adams had apparently spent the night carefully laying in the ambush and the Keldara positions were fully covered and bunkered. The most noticeable thing was that much of the vegetation on the uphill side of the defile was gone. But even the places where there had been scrub had been filled in with fallen leaves so it looked nearly natural; the fact that they were firelanes was almost impossible to spot. A few lumps at the base of trees were probably claymores covered by fallen leaves but Mike couldn’t spot so much as one bit of wiring or detcord. It was unlikely the Chechens would spot the ambush until it was triggered.

“When you get to the next switchback, Otar will guide you into your hide,” Adams said.

“Where are the bad guys?” Mike asked, slowing down. The high rock wall gave him all the cover he needed.

“There are three groups,” Adams said. “The group that was to the west that was chasing you is moving over to the main group. That’s split with one group headed for the trail and another heading straight up the hill. I don’t see any sign of the mortars.”

“Russell, you there?” Mike asked.

“Here, boss,” the Ranger replied.

“Can you see what’s going on?”

“Negative, we’re on the back side of the hill to lead Vil in.”

“Send Vanim on a sneak over to the other side of the hill,” Mike said after a moment. “Tell him to see if he can spot the mortars. If they open up, definitely try to spot them. We don’t want them engaging Vil’s group, especially. You two may have to take them out.”

“Will do,” Russell replied.

Mike trotted through the rest of the defile, reaching the switchback in a couple of minutes.

“Kildar,” Lasko said, rising out of the bushes as he reached the bend.

“Good to see you,” Mike said. “Where’s Otar?”

“He is in the hide,” the Keldara replied, turning up the trail. “With Sergeant Praz.”

Mike followed the Keldara up the trail until he paused and turned down the hill. They slid down a steep portion which stopped at a level spot. As Mike hit the level spot, he realized it was hollow. The bunker was so well camouflaged, he hadn’t realized it was there until he was standing on it.

“Nice,” he said as a spider hatch opened in the back.

“Come on in,” Praz said, grinning. “All the comforts of home. These Keldara can dig like motherfuckers.”

The bunker was deep and wide, with a central firing area and two basementlike wings. It was a sizeable construction to be completed overnight. The top was covered with tree trunks and the firing holes were small; Mike wasn’t sure even a mortar could do much to it other than from a direct hit on delay. Maybe not even then.

Despite its size it was crowded with Praz, Lasko, Killjoy, Otar, the two Keldara who had apparently constructed it and Mike. The Keldara were loaded down with ammo vests, body armor and helmets, ready for a solid fight. They didn’t look scared, however, just eager.

“Good to see you,” Mike said to the Keldara in the bunker. “Nice place you’ve got here,” he added, shaking their hands.

“It is much like the shelters we make when out tending the sheep in summer pasture,” Lasko said, looking around. “Stronger, but much the same.”

“All it took was a little digging,” one of the Keldara said, shrugging. “We worked in teams with one team cutting trees and bringing them down to the bunkers and the other team doing the digging.”

“Adams,” Mike said, peering out of the bunker and seeing nothing but the end of the trail and trees, “I’m blind up here. What you got?”

“Main body is on the trail,” Adams replied. “The second group is moving up the hill. They’re not moving very fast. They shot up the woodline before they got there and have been crawling up ever since. I think the main body will get to the defile before they do at this rate.”