Fire
Snow.
I had grown up in an area void of it for the entire year. Winters would be cold, at least colder than the spring and summer, it would rain sometimes, but never snow. Such was the weather on the Osean West Coast. I had lived there my whole life, and one wish I always had at the end of fall was for it to snow. I had a romantic idea of it when I was a little girl. I thought snow was the tears of angels falling onto the world, making dreams come true. It's was a bit silly of me. I would be seventeen years old before I would actually experience snow for the first time. I would be twenty-one before the first time I would have to live in snow. And now I am twenty-three, and realize how cold and deadly snow truly is.
"God damn it Nagase!" The words echoed through my head, and I tried to keep myself from crying at the thought of them. I wiped my hands over my face and could feel the cold of my fingers even through the heavy fabric of the pilot's gloves I wore. I immediately put them back beneath my arms, and pulled my legs even closer to me chest as I laid there on my side. And the chill of the air still shot through my body, as the wind and snow beat against the side of the shelter.
"No one will die." I tried to think and internalize those words, pushing out any thought of the numbness in my limbs, and the aching of the enormous bruise on my back. It seemed each time I moved it resurrected itself, and I was there again on that hill, tumbling down, out of control to the ground, followed by the sharp sensation of a knife piercing my back. It wasn't the most pleasant of memories.
I tried to put it out of my mind, thinking of something else. Anything else…Sand Island, the war, Grimm, Chopper, Genett, Blaze…I tried to think of future, how we would be recued the very next morning, like nothing happened, like they had never had left Glubina at all. But each time the wind would hit against the shelter and some snow would fall onto my face, and would see myself against that tree, dying alone in the frozen wastelands of Yuktobania.
Of course I wasn't really alone. The crew of the HH-9B Gunship slept soundly behind me. They had tried to save me, only to have their Gunship stall and crash into the snow. And so I had to save them, pulling each of them out one by one from the debris. That wasn't easy. And to complicate things the pilot was severely wounded with a broken leg. And here we are stranded, sleeping in a makeshift shelter in the middle of the Vladimir Mountains., with enemy forces not far away. We had come to this place to liberate prisoners of war. Now we were in the same position as they were, except our cage is made of ice, not steel.
I checked my watch. It was near 0100 hours in Sand Island. If Blaze, and the squadron had flown back, they would just about be there by now. They would land, refuel and debrief within a half hour. I can imagine the expression on the Commander's face when he here's what happened to me. "The moment I let you all out of my sight, this happens to you." He would say something like that. He would only half care. He didn't like me or the rest of the squadron. I wonder, was it because of our records that he wants to get rid of us, or was it because of our records that he doesn't? No, the only reason why he disliked us so much was because of one man. And that one man was the reason I and two marines were in that mess: Captain Jack Bartlett.
"I am not blaming myself for Captain Bartlett." That's what I had said to the Chief Medical Officer.
But I had lied.
It was only our second deployment as a squadron, and I was careless. The enemy spy vessel fired on me, and the Captain swooped like a guardian angel to save me, taking the hit himself. And that same spy vessel would bear him away to Yuktobania. I never forgot about nor was I able to come to terms with it. I let the thought steep in the back of mind. Until I was too obsessed to see I made the same error again, the same mistake that resulted in Jack Bartlett's capture.
And there I was lying on my mind as a snowstorm roared overhead on the ice of Glubina.
I rolled over to check my two companion marines. It was near pitch black in the very cozy shelter, but I could see their black silhouettes in the darkness sleeping soundly. I suppose they're much more used to this sort of action than I am. During the whole night they hardly made a yelp, despite the frigidness of our situation that kept me awake. Maybe their injuries helped in that regard?
I settled for a moment listening the whooshing sounds of the air above, hoping it would help me drift of to sleep, even if only for few minutes. I gave up after only a moment. I couldn't help but fret over the situation, over the mistakes I had made, and what the next day would hold for us…for me…
When you sit alone for a long time in the dark your worst fears start to materialize, and my worst fears certainly seemed to become real then. What if we are captured? The more the word bounced through my thoughts, the more it seemed to be an inevitability. I had thought about it ever since I pulled the gunship crew out. We were stranded in the heart of Yuktobania. Recoiling from our recent liberation of their POW camp, then would send every unit available to capture us…and me. It would certainly be consolation considering the damaged we have caused them up that point. More frightening yet, what would my fate be after capture? The wind blew a strong gust, and the percussive noise of the tarp that covered us was enough to knock the thought away.
We were going to make it out, I resolved, alive. "No one is going to die." Except the words sounded so weak.
Any rescue I still was hours away. Maybe ten, or some number close to that once weather conditions improved. The Yukes would be on us far sooner than then. Somehow, our injured party would have to evade them.
Almost impulsively I began to grope around in the darkness in front of me, trying to grasp hold of my EmR Beacon. I found the radio, my emergency rations, canteen, and the radio again before I finally grasped the small device, it's blinking red indicating it was transmitting. Gründer's latest, and practically the only recent addition to a pilot's survival kit, when I discovered this thing in my pack I experienced the only moment of happiness I would have in Glubina. The EmR Beacon sent out constant pulses of scrambled radio waves, thus making much easier for any rescuer to find a rescuee. And much easier for Osean Forces find us in an ice covered tundra.
I sat it in down right in front, starring into the blinking red light, my only candle in the darkness. Suddenly of the worst fears that had been coming true dissipated, and in the cold I finally felt some warmth. I let myself imagine Blaze, Chopper and Grimm picking up the signal all the way at Sand Island. I could see Blaze, not resting, flying all the way on steel wings to rescue me from that ice cage. It would be just like a story book fairy tale. The wicked would be vanquished and the righteous would prevail. And that would be the end.
If only realty was that kind…
I saw myself there again, as I had the days leading up to that moment.
I stood alone in a coniferous forest in the dead of winter. The howled through the trees and sent an icy shiver up my spine. I looked down at myself and I was dressed in my flight suit, ready and waiting to fly. I looked up and the trees began to disappear behind a white haze of snow.
I was at loss for what to do when I heard a shot from behind me. My heart skipped as I turned quickly trying to see where it came from. A moment passed and nothing became visible through the haze.
Then there another shot. I staggered back. Bracing myself, doing my very best to try not to panic. I had to find out what I was up against. If I acted too quickly I would end up endangering myself. As I had before…
It was quiet for a moment then there was another shot, much closer the previous. I hit the deck immediately without thought, and I heard the faint whistle of the bullet pass over my head.
I was out of time.
I ran through the haze toward, sprinting wildly through the haze. There was no sound of pursuit but that didn't comfort me. I was in danger. I knew it in my heart that if I didn't run as fast as I could, I would be dead.
I don't how long it was. It seemed like an eternity but at the same time it seemed like an instant, such was the confusion I was feeling. There was nothing in front of me so it seemed, just the white haze that seemed to hide the entire world. Then I saw something, faint in the mist.
I stopped, sliding a few feet before I came to a halt, my eyes inexorably locked on the dark shape emerging from the haze. It was nothing but a blur at first but then as it came closer the features slowly solidified into the solid structure of a man. My heart leaped as it happened. He came closer and I could see the Osean Air Defense Force emblem on his uniform.
I was saved!
I began to slowly stumble toward him, suddenly gripped by an elation that overrode any reason I had. Till I saw who it was…
Jack Bartlett was walking before me dressed in his pilot suite, with a 9mm Beretta in hand.
I ran toward him suddenly without restraint. Everything seemed to be right. I was saved! He was saved! I ran on, till no white hazed blurred my vision, till I could see him as clear as water. And there I stopped. The elation was gone and replaced by a familiar horror.
The dream came suddenly back into memory. The dream I had before we launched to save to the POW's. The dream haunted that me still, and the primal, nameless fear that it brought.
I stood there. 9mm in hand dressed in the same flight suit. I looked down and saw that I no longer wore that flight, only that same undershirt and pants. I looked at myself and saw the cold hatred in those eyes, a malice the breathed suffering and left no doubts to its murderous intent.
"No." I said aware of were I was, aware that it wasn't real, wanting to wake up. But those eyes…They seemed to trap in, grip me in such terror that I was frozen in place.
I saw both hands grasp the pistol, and the weapon fired, the bullet driving into my skull, and white turned to red.
I felt moisture on my head and my eyes slowly opened to nothing by black. It was quiet I heard myself exhale, and suddenly became aware of how sore my legs were. Another drop landed on my forehead, and reached up to wipe it away as the beads rolled passed my right eye.
A faint red flashing caught my attention. It was right in front of me. I wondered what it was for a moment before everything returned.
I had been dreaming again, only that time it wasn't so bad. Maybe it was the fatigue? I wasn't in a panic. I was calm, maybe more calm than I had ever been. Not that it was a pleasant dream, but it did mean I had at least gotten some sleep.
Another water drop landed on my forehead. I moved my hand as to wipe it off, when I suddenly became aware of how much noise I was making. I remained still and heard nothing but silence in the darkness.
Silence…
The wind had ceased.
As quietly as I could I knocked off the layer of snow that covered the shelter, and carefully making an opening just large enough so I could slip through on my stomach. Standing up was painful. I knocked off the loose ice that was on my flight suite before scanning the area.
The weather had completely cleared. I don't think I have ever seen so many stars. Even with all the tree cover there was, all of them filled the night with such brilliance that for several moments I forgot the desperation I was in. The ache of my legs eventually drew me to my knees, but I still starred at them, as though I had never seen them before in my life.
I remember, I only ever took one astronomy class in my life, and that was only because a friend dragged me into so that she didn't have to be alone. I remember the instructor was a senile, rude, and unhappy retired Ph.D. who did it because it made his wife happy. I remember him throwing several students out the class for being late on the first day. And I remember it was one of the best classes I ended up ever taking. I tried to recall all the names of the stars he taught, but I could only remember the first.
"Actuaries." I skimmed the sky, trying to find. But I was in a different part of the World. Many of those stars were unfamiliar, and it was just too long ago.
That must have been maybe four years after the fall of the X1994-XF04 asteroids. Around the same when Eurusia constructed Stonehenge.
It's incredible to think of how much affect those meteors have had on our society, on our World. They've stopped wars and started them. The damage they did to world economic output pushed Belka into a fiscal crisis, prompting the war that would come a little over year later. I suppose I have them to blame for all this, or at least some of it. Osea herself was lucky. Most of the impacts were concentrated on the Usean Continent, which prompted the construction of the super weapon, Stonehenge. Of those meteors that did hit the Osean Continent, Osea herself was hit by relatively few. But I did see one strike, exploding over the ground in such fantastic light; the night became brighter than the day. It was like a sign from God. I don't know.
When the memories faded I noticed faint light on the eastern horizon, and all the awareness of where I was came back to me. I checked my watch. It was passed seven in the morning in Sand Island, and it was just before dawn here in Glubina.
Now we were nearly out of time.
I rushed back to the shelter pulling the pack and rummaged around till I found the portable binoculars, then rushed to the nearest vantage point of the POW Camp. It was still nearly completely dark over the landscape. The only visible parts of the camp were the lights over guard towers and on the landing pads.
So I waited. And it wasn't too long before helicopters arrived at the camp, two Mi-38 medium transports, accompanied by three gunships of what looked like a modified AH-64 type. A lot of firepower to look for just the three of us. I knew it wouldn't be long before fighters and other aircraft would arrive in the airspace to give support to their search parties. They could have complete air superiority in a matter of hours. And I dearly hopped they were not able to track the EmR Beacon.
I didn't stay too long. The longer I observed the more I risked their aircraft somehow spotting me. It was still too dark for them to set out, unless they were very determined. That would give us some time. But not a lot.
But what the hell was I going to do?
I looked back to where the shelter was and the barely visible tracks I had left in the snow. We couldn't stay there. The Yukes didn't know where we were and given all the tree cover and snow fall that occurred during the night, it would be incredibly difficult for them to find us…if they couldn't track the beacon. But even if we could stay, their forces would over run the area. Then there would be no chance of rescue. We had to move, I knew. The only question was how was I going to get the wounded marines out safely.
I scurried back to the shelter, tripping once as my foot sank into a foot of powdered snow, to one of the marine had already roused, or maybe he had been awake all that time?
"Ma'am," he acknowledged when he saw that it was me.
I nodded back, swiveling my head around just to make sure the Yukes weren't already on top of us. The top of the shelter suddenly rose up to reveal the wounded the marine, sitting comfortably on the bed of ice. "We need to get moving," I said softly, and began to gather the contents of the pack that had gotten scattered during the night.
The marines didn't need any explanation. They knew full well why had to get moving. "Understood," the first said and then began to help the wounded marine to his feet.
I had everything ready in few moments. The shelter had been neatly packed and stored. The EmR beacon, radio, the emergency space blankets, the first aid kit, flares, rations, knife, and my side arm. The vague memoires of my survival training flashed through my mind as thought of how they might be used to get us out of there. I was ready and so were they, just as the sun began to break over the Eastern Peaks of the Vladimir Mountains. I looked the bank of the hill before me. It seemed fairly gradual, definitely scalable, even with a crippled hiker. It was almost overrun by trees, and almost too thick to see the snow underneath. I had faint idea of laid beyond it from the day before, when I was flying in an Osean F-18 over these mountains, instead of running between them. It was only few hours ago but at the same time I knew it might as well had been a lifetime that passed, and I knew it would be another lifetime till I was flying again over these mountains, in an Osean helicopter. I felt the tingle of sunlight on the back of my neck. The dawn had come and I could feel the race begin, the timer set and counting. All the time of the rest of my life seemed gone, the past and the future, with the present time the only remaining. And my heart beat with the fear and the excitement of what I knew was going to happen. It was time.
Time to move.
I took lead, starting up the bank of the hill where we had set up shelter. It didn't take long before I realized just how much snow had fallen that night. The trees were nearly immaculate, every inch of the branches covered by snow and ice. And so was the ground. I had hoped that maybe, somehow, the snow would have packed down tighter, making it much easier to walk. But the first step I took my left foot dropped several inches, and I fell forward.
"You alright ma'am?"
I wanted to say no. The bruise on my back seemed as fresh as the previous night, everything seemed sore and all the pride I had in myself was about to snap in half.
"I'm fine." I pulled my leg out and stood on what felt to be a tree root and looked ahead. Trees covered that entire side we were on, and I guessed that they extended well beyond the other as well. Maybe it will help give us air cover?
The pilot must have felt a lot worse than he did the night before, maybe even worse than he had felt when the gunner and I first pulled him out of his crashed gunship. We didn't even make it a quarter mile before he wasn't able to hop along with only the gunner supporting him. So I had no choice but to help carry him, slowing us down even more as we moved across the snow. His right arm wrapped tightly around my neck, and I felt the nails through his glove dig into my left shoulder. He was in pain. Within a few more steps of our walking up the hill I felt as if he might just tear the flesh right off my bone. My only comfort was that the gunner was just as uncomfortable as I was.
Every few moments I found myself looking to the top of the hill with the pale blue morning sky beyond as salvation. The ache in my legs seemed to be amplified tenfold with the added weight, making my muscle feel as though they would tare straight off the bone. The slope had seemed mostly gradual, but walking it was an entirely different matter. One stumbled step, then another, then the groan of the pilot as he reeled from his splinted leg momentarily touching the ground, and the feeling that I would very soon collapse. Why do marines have to be so heavy?
"Hang in there!" I found my self saying between my heavy breaths, trying to encourage him as much as I could. The funny thing was, I felt as though I was about to die.
When we finally reached the top all three of us stopped, each of us conscious of just how hard that little hike had been. I turned my head and looked back down where we came and was surprised how far it actually was from where the shelter was. At least we had covered some distance. The POW Camp was nothing but a loose assortment of gray buildings in the distance. It seemed so peaceful in the morning light, I thought. Though so was I, not too long ago.
We only rested long enough to catch our breath. It must have been only minute, maybe less. I would've never thought that short amount of time would make any difference.
We heard the rotors of the approaching chopper only a moment before it was visible to us, the black shape about two hundred feet above our elevation, bearing right down on us from several miles away. Coming right for us…
"Dammit," I cursed still out of breath. I looked down the slope of the hill. It was much steeper than we had just climbed, but even denser with trees, leading to wide valley. It wasn't going to be fun, and I knew it was even going to be a little dangerous. More than a little, and I briefly thought about my own tumble the other night. But we didn't have the time to find any safer way down.
"C'mon," I said to the marines, cursing to myself while I did. As soon as we stepped off the relatively flat top onto the downward slope we began to slide, and I mean slide. I reached out my arm and grabbed the slim trunk of a snow covered tree to stop us from tumbling down. The gunner did the same to another tree adjacent, and I heard the pilot groan as he pushed up with his splinted leg.
"You alright?" I turned my head to ask.
He didn't say anything, just nodded up and down as the gunner got a better hold of him.
The chopper's rotors seemed much louder then, and we were still too exposed. Instead of trying to walk down the grade, this time we basically sat down and let gravity do the work. So like a three person sled we slid down the bank, the gunner and I using our feet to stabilize us. With the sound of the enemy to motivate us, we kept going like that for several minutes, until the slope finally started to ease enough to where we were walking again.
I'm not sure how lone it was, but at some point the sounds of helicopter blades slicing into the air became fainter, shifting north of our position and moving till it was all but inaudible. The panic alarm in my mind seemed to wane then. He hadn't seen us. It must have been by shear luck that his vector was right toward, I told myself. We were safe. We kept going, fore a minute or two despite that. I guess I was trying to get some advantage over our pursuers, but the strain of carrying the pilot soon became more than I could bear. Not to mention, the pilot himself wasn't in the best of shape from the getaway either. Somewhere in the woods we slowed to a stop setting him as gently as we could against a tree.
I suddenly knew why coal miners had such health problems after years of working. My back felt more twisted and bowed than wreckage of the destroyed gunship. Everything hurt. I would have to do would be to crouch to take something out of my pocket and I would be confronted with needles in multiple places. Almost unconsciously I found myself on my knees, leaning forward as some of my sweat fell onto the snow.
"Damn." I remarked to myself realizing how worn my body already was. I was supposed an Osean Air Defense Force pilot. I was supposed to be in the top one percent of the Osean Armed Forces fitness index. I was supposed to be able to kept concentration when flying a fighter aircraft and experiencing ten plus gs. I was supposed to be tough, but at that moment I felt anything but. I was glad Captain Bartlett wasn't there. I was glad Blaze wasn't there to see how exhausted I was.
It was silent for a little bit. I guess the three of us were too tired to talk, not that there was much to talk about. Even the breeze seemed to quiet down as we sat there. We rested for maybe ten minutes. That was the most I would risk. We were deep in the forest and the enemy didn't know our position, but I couldn't help but obsess over the possibility that they might again find us by chance.
And I was right to…
As soon as we started walking, another helicopter could be heard approaching west of us.
Again.
I did my best to swallow my frustration. Again. How could they keep just stumbling on us?
We didn't have too much choice of where to go. We were walking along the edge of the valley, which went east-to-west before curving south. If we moved any more North to try to evade, it would take us out of the tree line into more open area, and we would be easy targets in the white snow. Only one option then. We would just have to hope the chopper wouldn't spot us.
We picked up the pace as much as we would, but the five-legged creature that we were could only run so fast, even as each second passed the sound of the chopper became much louder. We took cover when it came over our position. It didn't pass directly overhead but it was close enough to where I could follow it through the dense canopy of branches. I became aware of my grip tightening on my side arm as I watched it, waiting for it to turn toward us, weapons blazing. If it did, I imagined myself vainly shooting at the AH-64 with a 9mm pistol, almost the same as trying to slay a dragon with a butter knife. It would be a sure way to commit suicide. Somehow, right then and there, the thought didn't seem that bad. But gunship didn't turn toward us. It kept on its original vector and flew east toward the POW Camp.
It didn't know we were there…
I stood up watching it fly away till it was out my line sight, partly to make sure it didn't suddenly turn back and partly in wonder. It was the same gunship as the one that passed us before, I realized. It had to be. Why then did it fly North circle around and come back heading east? The answer to that was easy. It was surveying the area trying to sight us. Then, how did it each time almost come upon our position?
I knew the answer long before the question had arisen though. In fact, I knew it long before I was ever shot down, on the first of our survival training for OADF.
I reach around into my pack and pulled out the EmR Beacon, the brand new piece of technology to help stranded Osean pilots. And there was no doubt about it anymore. The Yuktobanians were tracking its signal.
"Dammit!" I felt the urge to throw it to the ground, to rip off the battery pack, to destroy it, to any number of things to it, but all I did was stare into the incessant blinking red light on its side.
What could I do? I asked the question over again in my head, but that only made me more frustrated. If I deactivated it, the Yukes wouldn't be able to follow its signal. They'd be left to rely on traditional methods. We could lose them then, if we kept up a lively pace…maybe…
But how were we going to be rescued? Blaze would also to be just as blind as the Yukes. He would return to the crash site to find us long gone and a massive Yuke force in the air and on the ground. They would be forced to give up on us. We would be on our own. Could we make it, I thought. We would have to evade Yukes for more than just a day. We would have to zig-zag back to allied territory, more than a hundred miles away… all the while evading capture…with an injured marine. That thought did not give me hope.
I looked at the pilot, seeing how much pain he was in from just under two hours of walking. Walking not even five miles. I would be forcing him to trek a hundred back to friendly territory. I couldn't do that. We had to get out of there, soon.
The beacon was still blinking in my hands, and I saw them in my mind, the Yuktobanians, racing toward with determination and hatred, following its signal to our exact position. Troopers, dogs, choppers, fighter jets, maybe even snowmobiles. They would send everything they had in the region to come for us. But we wouldn't be alone. I wouldn't be alone. Blaze was coming for me. Every crack of bones, every ached of my muscle, every fiber of my being told me that. And no matter what force they sent up to stop him, none would succeed.
I took the EmR beacon and placed it back into my pack and closed it. It would stay on no matter what. I, we were getting out of there. And I had a sudden inspiration for how I was going to do it.
I helped the pilot to his feet, and began to walk. The resting gunner saw we were leaving and scrambled to catch up, draping the other arm of the pilot over his shoulder to help carry.
"Ma'am, what's going on?" he asked.
There was no reason not to tell him. "The Yukes are tracking the Emergency Beacon. They'll be able to follow us no matter where we go. But we have to keep it on or else the rescue party will be blind. You two are going to hide somewhere and I'm going to take the beacon and lead the Yukes out the area for now. I'll circle back and rendezvous once friendly forces arrive."
"Uh..." He stuttered. This wasn't the usual protocol he was used to obviously. "Ma'am if I may. I'd rather it'd be me." I couldn't help but chuckle at it. There was some absurdity about his comment considering how desperate our situation was. He continued, "Ma'am you're too valuable. If you captured…"
"I won't. Plus you're more able to take care of our pilot here than I am." I responded.
He seemed like he wanted to say something, perhaps to come up with some subtle logic to convince me, but he didn't. I felt him take a little more of the pilots wake. He didn't like did. I could tell that much. But then again, neither did I really.
"Where are we going?" he asked after few moments.
"To a good hiding place," I responded. I had seen from the peak of the hill almost the moment before our scramble down it. I didn't think anything about it then, but it was the best place I had in mind, and was also fairly close to us. It was fairly near the tree line of the valley, but it was still covered enough to mostly invisible from the ground. It was a large boulder formation that had almost destroyed from weathering. Many of the boulders were in pieces, with only one or two protruding above the trees. All that debris should confuse aircraft trying to spot a person on the ground. And if they were found the rocks would give them some cover from enemy fire. At least so I thought at the time. In retrospect it certainly was not a flawless strategy, but there wasn't much else to choose from.
We arrived soon after that, much sooner than I had thought. There were many more boulders than I had thought, large and small ones extending like black behemoths out of the white snow. I briefly thought of how they must have survived for millennia in mostly forested area of Glubina.
We laid the pilot down next to one of the larger ones. He didn't seem to like the idea either but I guess the pain of his broken leg forced his hand. I gave them all the medical supplies we had, water, most of the rations and enough ammunition to put up a good defense if they were discovered. Though I honestly wasn't that concerned about them at that time.
"There," I said handing the last of the clips. He took it and gave me a look of pride mixed with shades of regret.
He nodded gravely, as he was saying goodbye to his best friend, or his sweetheart back in Osea. "Thank you Ma'am." He slipped the clip into one of his pockets, taking a deep breath as he did so. "Good luck."
I felt some regret as he said that. I felt like a school girl asking to be excused from a class, or as I felt when I told my mother I was joining the military. I took a deep breath summoning all the courage I could gather, hoping it would be enough.
"Thank you."
It felt like awhile since I had felt that much fear and trepidation setting out. The first time I piloted a fighter jet I felt it. Taking off from Sand Island to flew to St. Hewlett when the War began I felt it. And taking off to destroy the Hrimfaxi I had felt it. It was like standing on some strange precipice between terror and excitement, and odd sensation that continued to morph inside causing the blood to rush to my head and hands. It was sort lived though. Within a few minutes of running my head started to clear, but it didn't go away. I was being hunted for real this time. All the times in my child hood where I felt something was watching me, all the nameless monsters that haunt the outer reaches of our imagination seemed real. The old fairy tale wasn't just a story anymore. It wasn't just childhood fantasy to imagine myself the princess. The Demon of the Northern Sea was still alive, and it was coming for me.
The thought seemed fantastic but I had to push it aside. There was no time to indulge my oldest fears and dreams. I had to be alert.
It was quiet for awhile. I felt like I was on a lone trek through the woods, on some fantastic adventure. Which was true from a certain point of view. I was still in the thick of the trees moving south-west along the small valley. I thought I moved there long enough I might convince the Yukes to send their search party there to head me off. Then I could cut back somehow to the marines, once help arrived. At least it sounded good in my head.
I was running for some time. I eased up the pace little when I started to get out of breath. The sun had fully risen for a while by then, and for the first time noticed the beauty of Glubina, the evergreen coniferous forests, and the crystal white snow that blanketed the landscape in winter. What had seemed such a cruel place during the night seemed nearly holy in the day. I made a note in my mind that someday I would have to return, when I wasn't running for my life.
The thought was half out of my mind when I heard the distant thunder of a jet aircraft.
I was down in a second leaning against; crouching for as much cover as I could while I furiously scanned the space around me. It was high, a few thousand feet above me and it was definitely a fighter. The Yukes really were serious about capturing me. They did think one Osean pilot was that dangerous? I looked up through the branches trying to get glimpse of a contrail, but nothing was visible. I was probably safe, but I waited till the jet sound was gone before starting to move.
Could their fighter aircraft also track the beacon? I dropped the thought. It wasn't going to be of any help to think about that.
I was about to move. I tightened the straps top my pack and began to push with my legs. I stopped myself then, quickly ripping out the binoculars for a look around. I was near the tree line, I could the see the white surface of the valley floor only a few hundred feet away. I looked and there wasn't anyone around. I breathed a sight of relief then looked toward where I was headed. I almost didn't notice the movement, they were pretty far away, keeping cover like I was. The movement of the white camouflage was hard to pick out even in the brush, but I saw him, a Yuke Army Soldier move between the tress.
"Damn." I was right they did move tot the South-East to head me off. But I didn't think they would move that quickly. It was too soon to double back. They would find us well before help arrived. But I couldn't keep going that way.
I resisted the urge to throw the binoculars into the ground and took another look. I could get glances at few of them, but from their position it was clear there must have been at least a dozen. And if the aircraft were tracking the EmR beacon, there were getting real time onto on my position. Not good…
"What am I going to do?"
I took out my side arm, tacking the clip out and checked it. Fully loaded. I had two more stashed away somewhere on me. That meant almost fifty shots. The Yukes would have a lot more than that. If I didn't have the beacon might have been able to slip past them. And deactivating it was out the question.
I turned back, running nearly as fast I could without tripping in the snow or over tree roots. I had to stay well ahead of them. If I could cover enough ground I might be able to turn North and lead the Yukes that way. That would steer them clear away from the chopper crew at least. So I thought at least. I couldn't think of anything else to do.
I ran on, keeping my head as low as I could. I trying to keep a mental note of where I was, but with every tree I ran around the more things started to look the same. My thoughts started to wander after awhile.
Where was Blaze?
It was an eternity since I was shot down. What was delaying him? I bet the base commander took hours to brief him. He always had to pour in extra details for simple operations. Yet when we had some thing that was very dangerous he was practically a monk. And he was in that air conditioned office, kept just bellow 78 degrees, while I was in a cozy twelve.
Where was Blaze?
My ankle twisted suddenly. Nothing seemed hurt though.
Things were becoming monotonous. I knew I was still in the southern part of the valley we had stumbled into. Why was everything so unfamiliar? I had just run past most of these trees. I doesn't matter I told myself. I had just had to stay ahead of the Yukes.
I spied a raven resting on a tree ahead of me. It watched me for a moment while I ran past, then fluttered away. What was it doing there?
I turned my head up to watched, but lost it almost immediately. It seemed a strange place for it to be.
I looked ahead and stopped when I saw where I was running. The trees suddenly disappeared, giving way to the white expanses of freshly fallen snow.
"What?"
I had thought I was running parallel to the tree line, or at least deeper into the woods.
I dropped low, getting cover behind a dead stump and checked my surroundings. I was still safe. I must have just lost track of what direction I was running for a moment.
I saw a black object in the air out of the corner of my eye. My heart skipped before I realized it was just the raven I had seen earlier, flying North over the snow. I laughed a bit at myself. I was jumping at shadows.
I was wasting time. There was a Yuke patrol on my tail and I was sitting laughing at myself. I needed to keep moving west to find better cover before swinging north. There wasn't a lot of time.
Another jet noise punctuated the silence then. It was pretty far away though. No threat.
I scanned the area ahead of me again, and there was nothing insight but ice covered vegetation. I was about to move, just about to step out of cover, when I hesitated. I scanned the area, looking as far as I could between the trees and over foliage. I had lingering fear in the back of my mind. I knew the Yukes were behind me but there were definitely more of them. Maybe I shouldn't go that way?
I could still hear jets overhead, and somewhere there were two AH-64's waiting to sight me running through the open. I gazed north again, along the path the raven had flown, contemplating the mad dash it was going to be. I could wait till the relative airspace wait clear, but that would give them more time to pinpoint the beacon. What then?
I could feel my blood pressure and heart rate rise as my mind raced with all the uncertainty. And all the while the EmR Beacon was leading them right to me.
My heart seemed to stop though when I heard a branch crack.
When flying in a fighter jet things seem to just spiral out of control. An enemy is insight, then he passes above and he's gone. A pilot becomes myopic chasing a bandit down he does not notice the other creep onto his tail. Everything seems clear when missile warning alarms suddenly come on, giving only few seconds warning before it hits. In only a short space of time, worlds are created and destroyed, often before anyone realizes.
Then, though, everything seemed to move too slowly. I clenched my side arm, ready to fire, to give myself cover while I ran for my life. My head was on a swivel, scanning every direction, waiting for the enemy to appear. Moments went by, and nothing, and nothing after that. No sounds or sights, except the soft breeze that had started to blow. With each passing second, I considered moving again, getting out of there before anyone appeared. But then I thought better of it, while tightening my grip on my side arm. I had to holdout.
There was another crack some moments later followed by thud of something hitting the snow. They were coming.
I kept my back against the trunk, and tilted my head right peering through the corner of my. I saw it then, the nearly invisible white camouflage of a Yuke army trooper with a stark black assault rifle in his hands.
"Dammit," I said barely under my breath. So there were more of them, and they had come at me from both sides of the valley, trying to trap me between them. And they had; only they didn't know it yet.
Dozens of scenarios flashed through my mind all at once. I could try to wait them out, till they leave the area. I could try to get around them unseen. Nothing seemed to work out though. I was frozen there, trying to keep myself from panicking.
They came closer with each step, slowly inching upon my position. Had they seen me? Could they track the beacon that accurately? It didn't seem to matter. In a moment I was going to have to take action.
Luckily they stopped before that happened. And the tension in my head was eased a bit. I could hear the foot steps of one of them behind me. They were sitting on top of me.
"Anything?" one of them asked.
"Nah, nothing. The tracks are there then they're they're there again and…I don't know where this guy's going."
"Okay. He's probably already left this area. Let's check with air support." I could the hear him fumbling with the radio. "Q1, Big Eye. You read?"
It was a short moment before the response came. "Big Eye copy."
"What's the status of that signal?"
"Signal source spread out from Area A1 to A9. Hasn't changed much."
"Roger Big Eye. Q1 out. Well he's somewhere around here."
"I don't know about this sarge," the speaker was farther off away from the tree line.
"What?"
"I just…this guy…I think it's a waste of time. I don't think we're going get him," the skeptical soldier said.
Someone else spoke up. "He can't evade our entire armed forces. We'll get him eventually."
"Yeah but…never mind" he broke off.
"But what?"
"What if he does?"
"C'mon."
"No, we've been looking for hours and we haven't seen a spec of this guy."
"He was also able to stay alive last night. In just a flight suite. He knows what he's doing," someone else said.
"We'll you know the Razgriz right? Negative forty from them is like being at the beaches at Murska," some smart-alic said.
"Yeah and sex for them is about just as hot," some smarter-alic said.
"Hey, hey." The sergeant said over the muffled laughter from the patrol. "We're supposed to be quiet remember. And I don't wanna hear anymore about any 'Demons of Razgriz.' Alright?"
"Well he is, right?" the skeptical soldier began again. "This guy's one them right?"
"Yeah," the smart-alic said. "That's what I heard. Those fighters last night were the guys. They took down the Hrimfaxi."
"The Hrimfaxi was just a big-ass sub. It doesn't make this guy a demon." The tracker said.
"I don't know," the smart-alic continued. "I've heard some scary stories about these guys. Some of the pilots have said these guys are unstoppable."
"The fact that we are chasing one of them right now proves they're not. He's running from us because he was shot down. How's that for impossible? Enough wasting time."
"Hey sarge," someone who hadn't spoken till then said. "I got some tracks going this way. Look's like he was running."
"Perfect. Let's go."
The voices ceased and were replaced by the sound of maybe a dozen footsteps and branches being broken and knocked out of the way. I stayed as still as possible hoping desperately that none of them would look back. The sounds of their passing gradually went quiet, and I slowly moved out of cover.
"And I don't wanna hear anymore about any 'Demons of Razgriz.' Alright?"
Demons of Razgriz…
The thought of it stunned me. The Razgriz, we were the Razgriz. That's what he called he called us. I saw the image, that black shape I had dreamed about flying over the icy water of the Northern Sea. I saw the raven flying over the white snow. I saw that great leviathan, lurking under the water. I saw Blaze, striking the death blow on the Hrimfaxi. Us, the Razgriz, the Four Wings of Sand Island. Us, the only reaming member of the Wardog squadron. How could we be them?
Out of the abyss peer the eyes of a demon.
Behold the Razgriz, its wings of black sheath.
That old famous poem, the author that has long been forgotten by history, I had a
always read it as an ancient legend of a lost power. I couldn't believe that it was then about the four of us.
"What now?"
I could keep moving, as I had planned, hugging the forest while I moved west before cutting north. But the longer I stayed in the area the more Yuke forces I was going to have to deal with. And the whole point of this was to buy time for rescue. I thought of the raven again, flying over the snow toward the opposing tree line on the other side of the valley. It was that far. The Yuktobanians were heading the other way. If I could do it quickly enough the enemy aircraft might miss me. Maybe…
There was some good news at least. "This guy" they had said. They didn't know about the gunship's crew. They though I was alone. Though the more time and the men they had the sooner that small advantage would dissipate.
I scanned the skies quickly. There was nothing in sight, and I couldn't hear anything. It seemed strange. If they could track the signal why were they not flooding the air space to find me? Though I knew better. The "Big Eye" that Yuke Sergeant had talked to was probably an AWACS. They were serious about the airspace then. It meant a lot more trouble for Blaze.
"Where are you Blaze?" I said softly. Maybe they were held up with enemy forces? Maybe the enemy was pulling forces to engage them, and that was why the air space was clear?
It was possible at least. Though, it didn't matter much to me then. I had to lead them away. I had to keep the ground forces until the rescue forces came. And then there was no point in playing it safe anymore.
I looked over the white expanse again. I had run much farther before, but it still looked deadly. I breathed in, bracing myself for the sprint. Taking one final glance around to make sure I was alone, I ran.
The snow was a lot more compact than it was in the trees, and it felt strange for the first few steps. Maybe it was because the area was mostly flat, which kept down build up. Or maybe it was the Sun? It was still much easier than moving through the trees and that was a good thing.
I glanced back every few strides, trying to see if anyone was following. I couldn't see anyone in the trees.
I was clear, at least for those few moments.
The gunfire seemed so far away, I first thought they had found the marines, until the bullet crashed into the snow several yards ahead of me.
"Shit!"
I was still very far from the opposing tree line, so there was no place to dive for cover. I looked franticly among the trees, looking for the shooter when I saw the gray-white shapes of the Yukes running after me. A few them bring up there rifles to fire. I didn't need to see anymore.
I don't think I had ever run so hard, considering how hard it was even to run when the snow suddenly became uneven. They kept firing at me and turned sending three 9mm rounds there way. Whatever the shots hit, they didn't seem to slow the Yukes down.
I reached the tree line just as some bullets were fired into the trees. It was much more dense that the woods on the other side of the valley. I could only go a few steps before there was another tree in my way. The ground was hardly level. Every few feet there sudden dips and holes, making sprinting anything but easy. At least it was it was harder for the Yukes to get a clean shot.
The Yukes weren't deterred, and I could hear them follow me in.
I am not sure how long it was, at some point they ceased firing.
I kept running, almost getting myself lost. The terrain started to get steeper after awhile. I must have reached the Northern side of the valley. How long have I been running? How far?
Running up the hill I suddenly noticed the burning in my legs, and how heavy my breathing had gotten. I couldn't stop though I had to get some more distance on them. So I ran on till I reached the top of the hill and my legs were about to fall off.
"Damn."
I took cover behind another tree, and placed both hands on my sidearm. They couldn't be that far behind me. I was only going a few moments to catch my breath, and figure out what the hell I was going to do.
I more jet engine noise overhead. Two Yuke fighters were flying south-east pretty fast. They were intercepting! I turned around following there vector. There were several aircraft flying at low altitude several miles off. I groped into my pack for the binoculars and found the radio. I couldn't use it yet. If it was them I had to wait till they were closer or I'd be inviting the Yukes to were I was.
But I allowed some hope to wash over me. They were close.
I had caught my breath, and decided to move down the other side before going back to fetch the marines. That would confuse the Yuke patrols at least, buying some time.
It was about there, when I started to move that I finally heard. The jet noises must have masked it enough not to notice, not until it was too late.
I had made only few steps when the heavy rotors of the AH-64 helicopter rose up before me.
My eyes went wide in disbelief, and my feet froze into place. There it was, an angel of death, vectoring in right on me. And I had nowhere to run.
I didn't hear the missile approaching. I was too transfixed on the chopper when the missile crashed straight into the cockpit and detonated in a fiery ball of flame. For a moment I was dumfounded, not registering what had just happened. I turned around and saw the approaching aircraft, much closer than they were only moments before.
They were here.
The shadow that had been over suddenly was gone. I wasn't alone running to my death in the tundras of Glubina. I wasn't alone evading enemy forces. The bullet had left my head and was back into the gun. The sword was pulled out of my belly, and placed back into its sheath. My blood rolled back over the snow and back into my heart.
The air craft circled over my position confirming the kill on the chopper, an Osean F-18. I didn't need to seen the number on the nose to know who it was. I took out the radio.
"Blaze!"
It buzzed with a wonderful sound of static and interference.
"Nagase?"
I raised my hand, as though he would just reach down and take it.
"Nagase, Sea Goblin is inbound. Vector 102. Just stay there. They'll pick you up."
"Negative, the area's too hot. Moving vector…099 for pick up. I have some friends I have to meet," I said thinking of the marines.
"Copy. We'll take this airspace. You just stay alive."
"Yeah."
I screwed any sense I had of caution or stealth, and sprinted down the hill back into the valley. I don't think I even gave a thought to the Yuke patrols. I bet all or nothing on that hand and ran, what was left of, my ass off. Tripping and almost falling the entire way I made it through most the forest without incident. I thought maybe our fighters in the air persuaded the Yukes to pull back to base.
I thought…
I could see the white expanse of ahead of me as I dodged the tree and ran into a Yuke soldier. I am not sure who was more surprised, but before he could he bring up his M-4, I slammed my sidearm into the top of his head. I had come too far and I wasn't going to be stopped. I could hear the others react but I didn't stick around for them to shoot. I burst through the line and ran again, this time in the other direction.
I could almost see the rock formation from where I was. I just had to get there. There was clearing nearby in the trees for a chopper to land. I just had to make it.
A heard the wisp a bullet passing near, and out of a corner I could see the Yukes hot on my tail. I was in trouble if there were any sharpshooters among them. Not that I had many options.
I turned around, firing two shots while I was, vaguely hoping of them hit a Yuke soldier in the knee. They shot back. The tree line bobbled up and down before me. I was almost there. And so were the Yukes.
"Dammit! Get down!" I heard someone yell behind me.
Turning my head I saw the F-18 bearing down on us, causing all the Yuke soldiers to hit the deck. The cannon almost wasn't audible over the engine. It fired, causing geysers of snow to eruption right behind the Yuke soldiers. I made it to the trees and thanked Chopper under my breath, even though he could have killed me by accident right there.
I made it to the clearing by the rock formation only few minutes later. Sea Goblin was still few miles off and I knew it would difficult to spot us even in the clearing. I took off the pack and began to rummage through it for the flares.
And I had an idea.
I had seen it in plenty of movies. It wasn't at all that clever. But I was still pretty sure it would work.
I emptied the bag, taking the contents and burying them under some snow to the side of the clearing. I took flare and lit it, setting it down on the ground in the center of the clearing, while it sent white smoke into the air. I took cover, lying myself behind a frozen log. And I waited.
The Yukes approached carefully, I guess they were sensing something was up. There were only four of them. They slowly entered the clearing, spreading out, scanning the perimeter of trees. The soldier in the center stepped up to the flare and stomped it out in the snow, and then he noticed the empty bag lying against a tree up ahead of them. He signaled to the others and they took flanking positions slowly approaching it. And I had them.
"Stop," I said almost softly as I walked in behind them.
They exchanged glances, I'm guessing in disbelief of their ambush and reluctantly threw their weapons to the ground. They put up their hands and slowly turned around. They looked more exhausted than I was. I walked to side trying to get the best angle on each of them, but they didn't look like they would try anything.
There was sound of someone approaching from the trees. The for of them turned, expecting to see one of their patrolmen, when the gunner carrying the pilot on his back came into the clearing. They saw the Yukes and nodded to me, understanding.
One of the Yukes then started to laugh. Softy at first and then almost uncontrollably, and the other three soldiers looked at him like he was insane.
"Holy shit. Okay, I have had it. You win, pilot," he said, with a wide grin on his face.
I didn't say anything, though I was almost certain he had lost what was left of his marbles. I kept uncertain if he was going to try to rush me.
The wind suddenly picked up and the chill it sent through me made me realize how much I had been sweating.
"Relax. I'm done with this war. I don't care anymore. All of it. The invasion…whatever. Honestly I don't know what we were thinking when we started this. They said something about a bombing in Munich or….ah." He shrugged. Then looked me up and down, which caused him laugh even more. "Nagase huh? That's a good name. Certainly suites you. I must say, I was completely wrong. All of us. We had you pegged for the toughest and ugliest son-of-a-bitch. Oh shit we were wrong. You're definitely wiliest woman I've ever met."
The fighter passed overhead. And then the sound of approaching helicopters became audible. Sea Goblin was coming.
He continued, "You must be really something for them to send fighters after you. You guys really are the Razgriz."
Razgriz.
The demon from the land of fairy tales.
I couldn't imagine then what would mean for us then.
I could only feel pride, for us, for Captain Bartlett, and for myself.