“Another fuck up,” Adams snarled. “Kildar, this is Tiger Three. We got a situation here… ”
“They sent the ’60s?” Mike said.
“Yeah, they’re M-60s. The new kind. Those four we bought to evaluate.”
“Fucking Hoorah!” Mike said. “Don’t use them.”
“What?” Adams snarled. “What the fuck do you mean ‘don’t use them.’ We’ve been needing them!”
“I’d rather keep them for a surprise,” Mike said. “I was going to surprise you with them. You haven’t seen the video. But you’re gonna fucking love ’em. Trust me.”
“Kildar,” Adams ground out, “Mike. We are up to our ass in alligators. If one of these things jams, you know how to clear it, I know how to clear it. The Keldara don’t know how to clear it. We don’t need to be switching out weapons in the middle of a battle!”
“Yeah, speaking of which, I want one. No, better to leave them with the teams since we’ve only got four. But I’m gonna get one as a personal weapon… ”
“Mike… ” Adams stopped and took a deep breath. “I am getting fucking sick of this shit. What the fuck are you babbling about?”
“You’ll see,” Mike said. “We are not going to use those things until we absolutely have to. You’ll see why.”
“Whatever,” Adams said. “Tiger Three, out.”
He looked over at Oleg and shook his head.
“I think the Kildar is losing it,” he said.
“I think not,” Oleg replied. “You don’t go on the internet much, do you?”
“I’ve got better things to do,” Adams said.
“I was surprised, and upset I will admit, when I saw that these were not the machine guns we usually use,” Oleg replied, placidly. “But I am going to carry one, myself, thank you. You would be well to grab one as well before the rest of the Keldara find out we have them. They have all seen the video.”
“What video?!” Adams snarled. “He said that too!”
“You will see,” Oleg replied, grinning. “For once, the pupil knows more than the master.”
“I’m going to fucking kill Mike,” Adams said. But he grabbed one of the machine guns. It was an M-60. They went all the way back to the Vietnam War. The US had ditched them for the M240 because it was, hands down, a better fucking weapon. Higher cycle rate, much harder barrel so you could get a couple of hundred rounds through it before you had to change the barrel, a bit less prone to jamming, tad lighter. The M-60 was old tech in comparison.
What was the big fucking deal?
Katya walked in the entrance of the caravanserai and directly to the harem quarters, ignoring the gasp from Mother Savina who had been passing through the front room.
“Katya?” Anastasia asked, her eyes wide. “Are you okay?” She started to hold her arms out then thought better of it and just stood there, not sure what to do.
Katya was covered from head to toe in drying blood. There were still pieces of Viktor stuck to her, especially in her hair.
She knew she didn’t look all that great. A few of the Keldara had even shied away from her. For that reason and because she just could not ask those people for a ride, she had walked the long way back to the caravanserai, her eyes blank and staring.
She was cold. She knew that. “A deadly little bitch” was what the Kildar had called her once.
But having a person blasted into pieces in front of your eyes, and all over you and in your face, mouth and nose, that was something even the coldest person had a hard time with. No one else in the compartment had really seen Viktor vaporized. The wounded Keldara and Dr. Arensky both had had their heads down. The other wounded were mostly so doped up they were half or totally unconscious.
But she had seen every splash. She’d barely closed her eyes and gotten her arms up in time to keep from being hit in the face by a length of intestine.
“I’m fine,” Katya said, still staring into the distance. “I just need a shower. A very long shower.”
For perhaps the first time in her life she felt pity for someone. Because the helicopters were going to have to go back through the pass.
“Gretchen!” Kacey said over the intercom. “I’ve got a little more altitude, but you need to fire up the bunkers again!”
“Got it!” Gretchen called. She’d gotten blood into the three casualties that really seemed to need it and made sure Gregor was okay. Now it was time to do battle.
She pulled out Father Kulcyanov’s axe and kissed it.
“Father of All, let me triumph this day,” she said, arming the gatling gun.
As she did she looked up at the ridgeline. There, clear as day, there was a tiger walking along the shoulder of the mountain. A young male from the looks of it. Not yet to his full growth but… magnificent nonetheless. The tigers had returned.
She knew Sion had said he’d seen a tiger, but nobody had believed him. She thought for a moment how happy he would be when she confirmed that she’d seen it, too. Then she remembered that Sion wasn’t going to hear of it, short of joining him in the Halls.
Circling over the tiger, though, was a raven. It was headed to the north, towards the battlefield. How did they always know? And would this one, the eyes of the Father of All, stay to watch her upon the field?
No, it continued on, riding the strong winds to the battle. The tiger disappeared over the ridge. In a moment, she was alone again.
She shook herself back to the present and leaned outwards. The bunkers were just coming into view.
“Welcome to the land of the tigers,” she screamed. “Father of All hear my prayer! Let me slay this day!”
“I am going to fucking kill that thing this time,” Baakr said, pointing at the helicopter.
“It’s going faster this time,” Hanan noted, holding the belt. “Lead it.”
“I am leading it you pig eater,” Baakr replied, as he opened fire. He was crouched down, but he just couldn’t seem to get the fire high enough. “Help me! Lift this thing up!”
Gretchen held down the trigger of the minigun, walking the rounds into the nearest bunker. They were both firing but she ignored that. She just wanted to bring some servants to the Hall.
This time she managed to walk the rounds into the firing slit of the north bunker and let out a hoot as the machine-gun stopped firing.
“Yes! I have slain this… ”
Gretchen hadn’t realized she’d left her intercom on but Kacey wasn’t about to interfere with the girl’s moment. But when the scream of joy cut off she hit her mike switch.
“Gretchen?” Kacey shouted. The damned Hinds weren’t open to the troop compartment so she couldn’t even look back to see if the girl was okay. “GRETCHEN!?”
Oh, fuck.
“Oh, fuck.”
Two groups operated Predators in the United States government, the United States Air Force and the CIA. And USAF Predators were not armed. The Air Force held the position that anything was going to fly and be armed, it damned well better have a pilot in the cockpit and not just a bunch of wires.
The Army was making a bid to get some armed Predators but the AF was using every bit of political muscle to prevent it. Going all the way back to the Key West Agreement in 1947, the Air Force had done everything it possibly could to prevent the Army from having anything with a weapon on it in the air. They’d failed with helicopters but they were standing firm on anything with a “fixed wing.” Predators were fixed wing aircraft and, therefore, the Army might be permitted some that weren’t armed, but armed Preds were right the fuck out.