“We’re geared up,” Praz said from the edge of the woodline.
“Lasko, Killjoy, Vanim, Praz, Me, Otar and Russell,” Mike said. His voice was pitched low but not a whisper, which would carry farther.
He waited for his position in the team and then rolled in, following Praz into the darkness. The team was camoed up in ghillie suits and floppy “boonie” hats, the latter with strips of glowing tape on the rear. As they entered the woods the light level dropped and Mike flipped down his monocular NOD, using it to find his way through the dark. Through the NOD the team was clear, especially the faintly glowing strips. The Chechens very rarely used NODs so they were probably fine.
The night was clear but high cirrus clouds presaged rain for later. If so, it would just be in the nature of the mission. Rain would actually be good from his point of view; it would make it less likely the Chechens could move fast and less likely the team would be detected. The other two specops types were going to eat rain up and the Keldara needed to learn.
They moved slowly up the mountain, getting their gear in position and stopping to check on rattle. The Keldara were good stalkers and trackers, but they were unfamiliar with the gear and needed some adjustment. But by an hour into the mission they were all good, moving up the mountainside like camouflaged ghosts.
When they reached the saddle at the top of the ridge, Mike halted the team and sent Killjoy and Lasko to the top. Killjoy had a set of thermal imaging binoculars for reconning. After fifteen minutes the two came back down and Killjoy got close enough to make a negative hand gesture. If the Chechens were coming they weren’t in the Turdun Valley yet. At least, not in view.
There were two trails entering the valley that the Chechens could be using. The left-hand one was more direct, but they could have come in on the right-hand one that was more to the south. However, the two valleys paralleled a ridge running between them. Mike had mentally designated an observation rally point on the top of the ridge. They’d have to find a good hide and be discreet, since they’d be in view of both trails. But that was their target.
He waved the team forward and they moved out, cautiously but quickly. They’d spent about three hours getting to the top of the ridge and they had less than that until dawn. They had to get down into the valley, cross it undetected, and get up on the next wood-covered ridge before dawn. At that point he’d probably call a halt, detail some lookouts and catch a nap during the day.
As it turned out, the trail they were on was more complicated than it looked on the map. After a couple of switchbacks it had entered a narrow defile that was parallel to the slope. The up side of the defile on the north side led into the tree-covered slope but the down side on the south was a high dike of granite. A small stream ran at the base of the granite, obviously unable to penetrate, while the trail, which was fairly wide at that point, followed the stream. The dike of rock led them well off to the east from the direction they were headed and Mike more than once considered trying to climb out of it. However, the walls were granite and smooth with moss from the stream climbing up their sides; getting out would be problematic. Finally, the ridge of rock that formed the defile fell away and the trail cut back to the west, the stream falling through a series of cascades towards the valley floor. At that point, he called a halt since the sun was damned near up. There was a group of large boulders not far from the trail and he figured they could lay up there.
He motioned them to the bivouac and picked a spot for himself. Russell handled the Keldara, making sure the positions they’d chosen were out of sight from the surroundings.
Mike pulled out his poncho liner, all the snivel gear he’d brought, and makings for dinner.
“Have you worked with this, yet?” he asked Lasko, quietly, as he pulled out a folding stove that fit in with his canteen.
“No,” Lasko said, looking at the device curiously. “Sergeant Russell gave me one but I don’t know how it works.”
“With these,” Mike said, pulling out a packet of chemical tablets. He set one of the blue tablets on the ground in the middle of the stove, then pulled out his canteen cup. Filling the latter with water he set it in the stove and cautiously lit the chemical tab, shielding the light with his hand. “You don’t want light or smoke, but these can’t be seen for more than a few yards. You can smell them from that far.”
“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.