Surrounded
Kowalski had been happy to be picked for this shore detail. The mission briefing detailed a hike through the woods to a research facility to deliver some supplies and pick up the research notes made to date.
The facility was a temporary installation. They didn't know and didn't need to know what was researched there. That knowledge was well beyond his pay grade.
The facility had no proper roads to it since it was important not to draw attention to the site. Resupply was a secretive activity of transfer from supply vessel by zodiac to the cove beach where the trailhead was carefully concealed by foliage. The beach was only accessible from the sea during high tide further complicating physical access.
Scuttlebutt said Seaview had been asked to do a supply run since they were in the right part of the ocean to get there with only a day or two taken from their current research project.
The detail would be dropped at the beach and hike in on the trail taking in some needed supplies and hike back out. Easy-peasy. A nice day ashore, a chance to stretch one's legs, breathe un-revitalized air, and enjoy the sunshine.
Ski didn't know why he was assigned to the detail but he was sure happy to tag along even if it meant being on his toes the whole time since the Skipper was leading the detail. They got along okay considering the Skipper was … well the Skipper.
Kowalski hadn't liked him at all when he first showed up, taking over after Captain Philips was killed. The new Captain had been brash, pushy, actually way more than pushy; Kowalski still sometimes rubbed his jaw when he remembered their first meeting. But the Skipper had grown on him.
Yeah the Skipper completed that mission just fine. From some accounts he saved all the U.S. of A.'s coastal cities. Ski figured that was exaggerated but maybe he did. Ski didn't know much about that part, the crew weren't briefed on that mission's purpose, just what to do, but no one could say the Skipper hadn't saved Malone. Saving Malone had quite a bit to do with Kowalski's change of heart about the Skipper.
If it came to picking between the Skipper and the Admiral in a clearly ambiguous situation Ski's longer loyalty to the Admiral always won out. Admiral Nelson was impressive! Oh and he also ran the Nelson Institute of Marine Research (NIMR) so he was the big boss who paid their wages. Kowalski knew which side his bread was buttered on.
Some of the guys might be a bit nervous going on a shore party with both the Skipper and Mr. Morton but as far as Ski was concerned it was A-Okay with him.
"So I hear you pulled the shore duty today?" Patterson said as they had their morning coffee in the crew's mess.
"Yeah." Kowalski replied not too enthusiastically. He thought he'd got the plum detail today and didn't want to give away how much he was looking forward to it.
"I also hear that both the Skipper and Mr. Morton are going." Patterson got along with everyone but he was more easily overawed by the officers than Kowalski was. Patterson was quiet, unassuming, and a natural peacemaker amongst the crew on the rare occasions that tempers got frazzled. "If it was just me and those two I sure would feel a bit nervous."
"Nah, Pat. They're okay. And from what I overheard in the control room it sounds like the Skipper is taking Mr. Morton along like it's a day off for him or something like that."
"So like a day of shore leave hiking through the woods getting sweaty, bitten by bugs, and carrying gear. Great day off that." Patterson laughed.
Ski chuckled. "Right. Well you know those two seem to think hiking is relaxing. Crazy right? And as if those two ever took 'time off'." Kowalski emphasized the 'time off'.
Chief Sharkey came in as the two men chuckled. "Well, Ski. You might be up for a hectic day. I keep hearing that the Skipper is really and truly fighting fit again, maybe more so than ever. You might have a hard time keeping up."
"Yeah right," muttered Kowalski disbelievingly.
"You better take good care of them, Kowalski." Chief Sharkey nattered as he handed round some wrapped hard candy that he had picked up in their last port of call and was using to bribe the crew. At least bribery was what he called it to himself. He took a childlike delight in the little smiles garnered when he handed out the candies. "Or we'll have to break in a new command team and where would we ever get anyone like the Skipper or the Exec?"
Ski tossed the wrapped candy up and down on his palm. "Thanks, Chief."
Patterson unwrapped his candy, popped it into his mouth and smiled around it. "I say better you than me, Ski."
Kowalski grinned. All in all he was pleased with the assignment. He thought better him as well. Knowing the Captain and the Exec, Kowalski figured the two officers might just keep up a friendly running rivalry all the way. If that happened the officers would likely carry the supply packs to challenge and show off to each other leaving the lighter, smaller emergency pack for him. He smiled. He just might enjoy this.
Thinking back at that now he wondered why.
He had been right about the officers. They each shouldered one of the twenty-three kg (fifty lb) supply packs leaving the lightweight seven kg (fifteen lb) pack for him. Then they joshed each other ceaselessly testing their fitness, speed, and endurance. They bickered in a good-natured spat the whole way challenging each other to shorten their breaks or to get to certain points first. Kowalski shook his head at times with an internal smile, they were acting like a couple of kids.
They instantly turned back into serious command officers just before they arrived at the facility. The facility itself was made up of several temporary modular buildings built under the forest canopy so as to not be visible from overhead.
When they arrived they hosted a light cold lunch to the staff of the encampment complete with iced tea, and baked treats courtesy of Cookie.
While lunch was being eaten Lieutenant Jacobs, the military liaison for the project, gave Crane an eye signal. Kowalski saw it. Once the cookies and brownies appeared for dessert Jacobs nabbed a couple and jerked his head toward the edge of the encampment. Crane grabbed a brownie and followed him.
Kowalski watched the two men munching their treats and talking. The Skipper's chewing slowed and he looked at Jacobs then toward the rest of them still enjoying their dessert. Crane's face smoothed to its rather solemn commanding officer look as he turned away from the group to look more closely at Jacobs. The two men gradually sauntered away with Jacobs making some rather vague hand gestures as if giving Crane a tour of the rest of the encampment.
Kowalski glanced over at Mr. Morton to see that although he was chatting pleasantly with their hosts his eyes had followed the Skipper too. Something was up. Morton and Kowalski exchanged a quick look indicating they both suspected their mission had changed.
"What exactly do you need me to do?" Crane asked.
"In addition to the project notes you were going to take with you I need you to take the prototype device. I have reason to believe that the device is at risk here. I don't trust the staff."
"Why? They all have appropriate security clearances surely. What's happened?"
"Nothing I can put my finger on but the atmosphere here has changed. There are vibes from the team that I don't understand and the prototype is too valuable and top secret to leave here. You need to take it back with you. This can't wait. Once it is safe we can deal with the team here.
Crane looked at him searchingly and saw only deep concern and sincerity in his eyes. Jacobs glanced briefly at the other men of the project team who were busily chatting and eating Cookie's baked treats then back at Crane. His uneasiness was obvious in his eyes.
Crane took note and trusted his instinct that the Lieutenant had good and valid reasons for his concern. He nodded once. "All right. We'll get it out to safety." Jacobs' eyes flashed his relief. Crane was immediately onto the logistics. "How large is it? Can we fit it into our two cargo packs?"
"It's not large, sir but it is heavy. I have already stripped it down to the smallest piece that can go to safeguard the project. It's heavy, sir." Jacobs looked at Crane. "Forty kilos."
"Yikes. Can it go into two packs?"
"No, sir. I took off all the accessory items to make it as compact and portable as possible in hopes you could get it out of here. The striped down device has to go in one pack. If you agree to take it to safety I don't want to arouse suspicions as to what is in the pack. I don't trust the project team."
Crane looked away over the treetops for a few seconds as he thought. His face was much more serious than previously.
Chip and Kowalski still unobtrusively glancing over while making conversation with the project team noted the change in Crane's demeanour and readied themselves for some unknown complication.
"How are we going to load it into a pack without anyone noticing?"
"I have it already to go, sir in the main building. You just have to switch the packs. We can do that just before you leave. Put on your pack out here then I will 'remember' something to show you and we will head in there where you can do a quick switch of the packs."
"Okay, Jacobs. Good thinking."
Crane popped the last bite of his brownie into his mouth although his appetite had completely fled with the invasion of the usual butterflies that occurred whenever there was danger at hand. He rubbed the crumbs from his fingers as he and Jacobs ambled back to the rest of the group.
Kowalski had watched that interaction and knew the Skipper was processing some new information. He figured from the introspective look in his eyes that he was planning out contingencies. Contingency plans for an easy walk in the woods, a happy day in the park. Contingencies for that couldn't be good. Kowalski finished the last bite of his cookie and also wiped the crumbs from his hands. Ready for whatever.
Then the shore detail got back to business for the return hike to the boat. They had shouldered their packs when Lieutenant Jacobs had pulled them aside and taken them into one of the buildings for a moment. In an obviously prearranged move the Skipper switched his pack for one Jacobs had waiting. Ski could tell by how Jacobs and then the Skipper handled it that it was heavy.
"Skipper let me take that. I've only carried the light one so far."
With a wry grimace the Skipper had said he would take it first. It would give him a better idea of how often to call rest breaks and switch carriers on the way back. Ski had scoffed at that. He wondered if the Skipper and Mr. Morton were going to continue the friendly competition with each vying to carry it farthest. He wouldn't mind if they did, less time for him to carry it. They left the station the Skipper adjusting the pack straps as he went.
Just after they left the station one of the staff, Garber, had overtaken them. He wanted to walk with them for a way so he could talk to the Skipper. Ski began wondering how many of the project team were going to want private talks with the Skipper before they were done.
They had only gotten about two klicks from the facility when they were ambushed. They hadn't seen it coming because Garber was in on it. Well not just in on it, he led it.
As they reached the top of a small rise the land fell away abruptly to both sides leaving the trail to follow a ridge about four metres wide and two hundred metres long. Garber halted about halfway along the ridge turning toward the Seaview men. As the Skipper stopped to hear what he had to say Garber raised his long gun aiming it at the Skipper. Ski jolted to a stop almost bumping into the Skipper's back and then stepped to the side a bit to stand near the Skipper's left shoulder.
Ski watched as the Skipper raised his hands in sign of surrender, watched the Skipper take in his men's positions and that of the four additional hostiles who scrambled from behind the trees and ground cover. By this time Mr. Morton had stopped a bit behind the other Seaview men.
"One by one take out your weapons and toss them over there." Garber nodded down the steep slope to Ski's left. The three men slowly complied.
Gesturing toward Kowalski Garber demanded, "Take off your pack and throw it down there. Ski looked over at Crane. The Skipper nodded for him to do that. They heard their own supply pack tumbling down the long steep slope. Ski straightened up after flinging the pack and Garber nodded for him to step well back from the Skipper. Then Mr. Morton's pack was ditched as well. With those packs dealt with Garber focussed on Crane.
He spoke directly to the Captain. "Drop the pack."
Ski watched as the Skipper slowly unclipped the harness of the pack and let the shoulder straps slide down his arms easing it onto his knee then down to the ground beside him. He could tell from the Captain's motions and posture that he was calculating possibilities and options. He kept a good eye on him do be ready to follow his lead.
Garber taunted them. "Captain Crane, so much for NIMR's help. You and your men will soon be vulture food and I will have the prototype.
Kowalski saw Crane turn slightly to glance over his right shoulder at Morton and then over to his left at him, assessing their positions. Ski's eyes silently followed the Skipper's movement and he looked at Mr. Morton. The Exec's face was as calm as ever but his eyes were tense telling Ski to be ready. He didn't know ready for what yet but they were both ready to follow the Skipper's lead.
The Skipper was just drawing breath to ask something when Garber made the mistake of stepping forward to place the barrel of the long gun on Crane's chest. He never knew what hit him as Crane's right hand came up to the left of the barrel pushing it sideways while grabbing the barrel firmly. At the same time his left hand grabbed under the extractor twisting and rotating the whole length of the gun upward. His right hand provided the fulcrum as his left hand forced the stock up slamming it into Garber's face knocking him down and out of action. Crane continued to carry through releasing his grip on the barrel and swinging the gun into firing position. From there he took out the man behind the fallen traitor who was belatedly raising his own handgun to fire. All this before Morton and Kowalski even blinked but they instantly jumped into action themselves turning to attack the men nearest them. Ski dropped his man immediately with an elbow to his abdomen followed by an uppercut to the jaw. Morton's man got his knife up but Morton landed a cross and the weapon fell clattering on the rocky ground.
Crane spun to locate his next target but was jolted by the fifth man slamming into him. He stumbled over the pack twisting to the side and as he righted himself he felt the barrel of a handgun between his shoulder blades. As he bent his knees and body to put the long gun down on the ground he quickly scanned the scene glancing over his shoulder to verify the assailant had the gun in his right hand. Then as he slowly raised his hands upward in a sign of surrender he pivoted abruptly to his right, his right arm going under the arm holding the handgun then his forearm looping up and down onto the crook of the elbow bending the man's arm abruptly. This brought the enemy's gun up and to Crane's shoulder where he grabbed it with his left hand and stepped back and away the gun now pointed at the assailant. The moves completed as fast as thought.
"On your knees." Crane commanded as he held the handgun steadily pointing at the fifth man and his eyes scanned the scene for hostiles and assessing what he saw of his own men. They were on their feet. He let out a quick sigh of relief. "You guys okay?"
Kowalski glanced at Mr. Morton to defer his answer until after the officer's but his eyes stopped there. "Uh, sir? Mr. Morton's bleeding."
Morton in the meantime had been unsteadily straightening up from the last blow he delivered. He peered down at his left side seemingly surprised to see the blood there. "I think it's just a graze, Lee," he got out before he sagged to his knees. Chip had disarmed and dropped his man but just a shade too late.
The Skipper was glancing toward Mr. Morton when the hostile lunged forward to tackle the Skipper but the Skipper pistol-whipped him and he fell unconscious. The Skipper secured the weapon while scrambling toward Mr. Morton and issuing an order. "Ski tie them up."
Ski heard an anguished "Chip!" as the Skipper sank down on his knees beside Mr. Morton. Morton was already as pale as a ghost as the Skipper eased him to lie down, quickly slipping off his fatigue shirt to pillow Mr. Morton's head from the rocky terrain as he bent to examine the wound. Crane turned to Kowalski, "When you're done there can you give me a hand, Ski." The Skipper's voice sounded rough and shaky with worry.
"I'm okay, Lee," Ski heard Mr. Morton mutter.
"Sure, Chip. You're okay." Crane was frantically opening Morton's shirt. "Ah, it's nothing but a scratch there, Chip," The Skipper said as he hastily applied pressure with one hand while fumbling to find something to place against the long, deep wound. Their first aid supplies were gone. Gone down the ravine. Kowalski stepped up beside him at that point untying and handing him the bandana he had been wearing around his neck.
Crane and Kowalski rapidly checked the wound. They didn't think it had sliced through to the peritoneum but it was bleeding not just freely but heavily, the wound edges gaping. Between them they applied pressure and snugged up a bandage rigged from strips torn from the bandana. Crane and Kowalski took turns applying pressure over top the improvised dressing with their hands.
"Skipper do you have any duct tape in your pockets? Mine was in the small pack."
"Yeah, but not much."
"Well if we can pull the edges together and tape it up it might help slow the bleeding."
The two men worked together to get the wound bound up as best they could with what they had on hand.
"Careful there. Got it?"
"Got it."
They sat back on their heels eyeing their handiwork with considering eyes. They hoped the dressing would keep everything together while they got Morton back to Seaview.
Kowalski listened as Crane did a quiet audible mental check. "The radio's gone down the ravine. So did our weapons and emergency provisions. Ski check them for radios and weapons. There might be something we can use and we don't want to leave any with them. If you find anything you think we can use let me know."
"Aye, sir." Ski checked the attackers. "No radios, sir. What about the weapons?"
"Take what we can use ourselves and toss the rest down the ravine. I just don't want them to be able to use them when they wake up."
"Right."
After a bit Morton insisted on sitting up. "We've got to get out of here, Lee."
"Yeah I know but not until you're good to go, Chip."
Kowalski watched the two friends intent on the silent body language that on the Skipper's part was speaking of concern, worry, and a determination to get them back to Seaview and on Mr. Morton's of reassurance and determination not to worry the Skipper. It was odd to see that obvious interaction playing out without words.
Now that Morton was sitting up Crane picked his shirt back up and started to rip the sleeves off. "If I can get the body of the shirt on you, Chip and use the sleeves to secure it snugly over the wound it will serve to hold everything together. It shouldn't budge too much with movement."
Kowalski thought that sounded very inventive and much more secure against shifting than just the bandana. There was going to be a lot of movement to get Mr. Morton to the shore.
The Skipper only had the tee shirt he wore under the fatigues on now and Ski could see what Patterson had meant. The Skipper was really thin by most standards but so much more filled out over last year when he had looked emaciated. His arms were very well muscled. He did look strong and well.
Then the Skipper glanced at Kowalski. "Are you okay? Up to carrying the pack for a bit?"
"Yes, sir."
"Okay then. First make sure all these guys are secure except one. Pick whichever one looks the most out of it and untie him."
"Sir?"
"We can't leave them tied up in the woods it would be a slow death. Kinder to shot them than leave them tied up but I won't do that. Untie whichever looks like he'll be out longest to give us the most time to get away."
Turning back to Morton Ski heard him say, "What do you say, Chip? Up to walking a bit?" At Morton's nod the Skipper helped him up. "Whoa, Chip not too fast. Get your arm over my shoulder, right."
They headed out with the Skipper helping Mr. Morton. Kowalski followed behind carrying the pack and acting as rear guard. He sure hoped the attackers stayed unconscious for a long time. With Mr. Morton injured this was going to be a slow walk back to the shore.
Ski was on high alert, carrying the pack and following behind the Skipper. Mr. Morton was bravely soldiering on but he was white as a ghost. Ski flinched at that thought. A misnomer. The only ghost he had met wasn't white at all.
Krueger looked like a man. Walked and talked like a man. When Ski shot him he fell like a man. Only trouble was the damned 'man' stopped being like a man at some points. Ski had seen Krueger in two places at once. Seen his body disappear after Ski shot him. That had freaked him right out and Ski had spent a bit of time as Doc's guest after that. Ski would be more than happy to never see a ghost again.
No Mr. Morton didn't look like a ghost; he looked like a man in danger of dying of blood loss. Suddenly Morton staggered and started to drop. The Skipper pivoted to grab the XO into a hug to stop him falling. At the same time Ski jerked forward to catch Mr. Morton. He missed his footing and the weight of the pack pulled him down. He fell heavily. Right he thought sourly, it was pretty hard not to fall heavily when carrying forty kilos.
The Skipper eased Mr. Morton down to the ground and helped Ski get out from under the pack, which was pinning him to the stony trail. It was like being caught between a rock and a hard place.
The Skipper's voice was brisk and reassuring, "Easy Ski. I'll support the pack so you can get it off."
"Yes, sir," He managed to gasp as he released the straps and crawled out from under the backpack. He twisted to sit on the ground, more than a bit disconcerted by the jolt.
"You okay, Ski?" The Skipper's eyes searched his for signs of pain and distress.
"Yeah, just a bit shook up, Skipper. Is Mr. Morton all right?"
The Skipper's eyes shifted away and then back. He could see the Skipper wasn't happy about Mr. Morton at the moment. "I think we'll have to carry him, Ski."
"What about the pack, sir?"
"If you up to carrying it for a bit longer I will take the first turn with Mr. Morton."
He got up and took about three steps to work off the discomfort and stopped abruptly at the shooting pain in his ankle. It was more than just a kink to work out. "Ah, sir? I think we've got another problem. My ankle … "