Lou startled her, appearing out of nowhere and hugging her hard, lifting her off the ground.
“Hey, boss, told ya you’re gonna be great at this, didn’t I?”
Martin, the Bravo team lead, watched with amusement.
“He’s right, you know,” Martin acknowledged with a quick grin.
“Put me down,” she said, fighting to break free. Unknowingly, Lou’s hug was hurting her badly, putting pressure on her ribs and sternum.
He let her go immediately, alerted by the urgency in her voice, scrutinizing her.
“You’re hurt,” he said, his half-question turning into a statement. “Damn… I didn’t know.”
“It’s OK, Lou, I’ll live. We’ve got some stuff we need to do, all right? I need your help.”
“Shoot,” he replied.
“We need to make sure we’re not leaving anyone behind. The wounded have to leave in the first helo out of here. We’ll be in the last.” She thought for a second, feeling more and more pressure in the chest as she struggled with breathing and talking at the same time. “Martin, can your men count everyone who gets aboard the evac helos?”
“Yes, ma’am. What’s the total headcount we need to account for?”
A long sigh escaped from her lips, interrupted by another sharp pang of pain in her chest. Seven had died before they could be rescued… Five more, shot by the Russians on their way here. She did the math in her head, then replied, a wave of sadness overwhelming her.
“We’re down to 429, that’s all that’s left—429 civilians, plus 14 Bravos, and the 4 of us. That would be 447.”
Martin looked down for a second, then replied, “Twelve Bravos, ma’am. Only twelve left.”
She looked at him, feeling a renewed sensation of overwhelming sadness and frustration. She reached out and touched his arm.
“I am so sorry, Martin, so sorry…”
“Thank you, ma’am. This is what happens in our line of work. At least it was for a good cause. I am proud to have served with you and your team, and so were they.”
She nodded her silent appreciation, confirmed the final headcount of 445 with Martin, and then she resumed walking toward Tango One, looking for Sam.
There he was, lying on his back on the gurney, probably unconscious. The tall German doctor was by his side, keeping a close eye on his vitals. She crouched on the ground next to Sam’s gurney, shooting the doctor a glance of gratitude for the care and attention he had provided to Sam. Then she reached out and grabbed Sam’s frozen hand, holding it tight with hers, and whispering gently words of encouragement.
“We’re here, Sam, just hold on, we’re here. You’re taking the first flight out, going straight into one of the best trauma centers on this side of the world.”
“Hey, kiddo…” he whispered with difficulty.
“Sam!” She sprung to her knees, her heart soaring. She kissed him on the forehead with a loud smooch. He was going to be all right.
“Yeah, kiddo, it’s me,” he replied, faintly. “Did you find your man, V?”
She let out a groan of frustration. “No, Sam, no trace of the bastard.”
“Any proof, anything?”
“None, Sam, not a trace,” she admitted after a second of hesitation. “Nothing. But I know it was him, I just know it.”
“You’ll find him, I’m sure…” he added, then closed his eyes again, exhausted. “Look what you’ve done here today. You can do anything, kiddo, anything you set your mind to do.”
“Shh…” Alex whispered, not letting go of his hand. “Don’t talk. Just rest. I’m right here.”
They remained quiet for a few minutes, one almost unconscious, and the other deep in her thoughts. Yes, not a single shred of evidence tying V to yet another terrorist attack of unprecedented boldness. None of the captured Russians had any idea about anyone leading operations other than Bogdanov. As for Bogdanov, the Bravos had taken him out before she’d had a chance to interrogate him. But the Bravos weren’t to blame. They had operated by the rules of antiterrorism engagement in a hostage situation. People’s lives come first, safety second, intel third. This time, they never made it to third.
The pilot, roughed up by the Bravos and tied up with plastic cuffs, awaited his fate almost indifferently, a few yards away. She didn’t hold high hopes to extract any intel from him. V was too smart for that; he wouldn’t have engaged the pilot personally. To make things worse, the moment they’d set foot on the Okinawa, he would be placed under arrest, and she would lose all access to him. After all, she was just a civilian, operating without any official sanction.
That’s why she had no intel whatsoever. She had nothing on V. Damn it to hell… and back… The slippery bastard managed to stay hidden again. She had nothing, no evidence, but she believed more than ever that it had been him all along.
“Sam?” she called quietly.
“Uh-huh,” he mumbled.
“What do you think is going to happen? Did we just start World War III?”
“Nah… The Russians will issue a statement,” he replied, speaking slowly, with difficulty, making her regret she asked. “They’ll say it wasn’t sanctioned and apologize. Then we, the Americans, will issue a statement and apologize for entering their airspace. It’s all politics, kiddo… no one really wants to go to war.”
“How about us? Will we go to jail? We did so many illegal things today I can’t even count.”
“Nah… the public wouldn’t go for it, and we have more than four hundred witnesses on our side. No jail for us.”
“Good. Good to know,” she replied, feeling a little relief. “Now hush… don’t talk anymore.”
The sound of multiple helicopters approaching was the first sign that help had finally arrived. Then she saw their dark silhouettes, barely visible against the very early dawn on the eastern horizon, as numerous helicopters approached. Their evac transport had arrived.
The radio came on.
“All call signs, this is Eagle Nest. We have visual on you.”
“Eagle Nest, this is Alpha, copy. You’re a sight for sore eyes, Eagle Nest.”
Alex caught a different sound, coming from the north. Nothing was supposed to come from there.
“All call signs, maintain cover. We have inbound bogeys.” Eagle Nest’s voice sounded worried, almost surprised.
Several Russian helicopters appeared out of nowhere, firing at the trucks, and blowing a few of them up. They must have flown low on the river, escaping detection, and sneaking up on them from behind, Alex thought. But if they are here, why isn’t the entire Russian army? Sakhalin has a huge contingent of air, ground, and naval forces. We should be already dead by now.
Then she remembered Sam’s weak voice, whispering, “They’ll say it wasn’t sanctioned.” What if it wasn’t? What if V was not acting officially, under Russia’s authority? What if he’s a rogue player?
A few of Eagle’s approaching fleet of helos engaged the Russians, but a drone was the first one to score, sending a Hellfire missile whooshing through the dim dawn light. It ripped through one of the targets, blowing it up in mid-air. An Osprey approached from the left, surprising another one of the Russian bogeys, and took it out with a long round of shots fired at the bogey’s tail rotor from its belly gun. The remaining Russian helicopter turned around and tried to bug out, but exploded when a missile fired from a Cobra hit it center mass. The explosion sent flying pieces of debris toward their location, making the people scream and crouch close to the ground. Alex covered Sam with her own body, shielding him from the flying, smoldering debris.