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Authors: Lindsay McKenna
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their bellies, firing systematically, not wildly. They were trained and
disciplined, not wasting any more ammo than necessary to kill the enemy.
He leaned over and told the officer there was a split Taliban
force of ninety men. The red-haired officer paled. Ethan could tell this was a
young lieutenant, not battle hardened with experience. He then heard the throaty
roar of the M4s going online from the SEAL contingent. They joined in with the
Marines’ M16 rifles, laying down fire and halting the Taliban attempt to overrun
their position.
Ethan’s job was to get the overview, assess their position and
then, because he was comms, get these Marines the help they needed in order to
repulse the Taliban. The screams of raging Taliban soldiers, gunfire, the
explosion of RPGs and the curses of the Marines were deafening. Crouching down
behind a rock, near Porter, Ethan worked the radios, seeing what he could get in
the way of support.
He grinned, finding an A-10 warthog pilot loitering in the area
with a load of bombs and a Gatling gun that could repulse the Taliban. Ethan
quickly gave the pilot their GPS location. The pilot, who called himself
Wolverine, said he’d redline to their position and get there in about twenty
minutes.
Feeling better, Ethan turned, told the officer and then moved
between two towering rocks. He went prone and began to pick off the Taliban as
they crawled over the top of the hill. In his mind, he worried about the medevac
coming in. Where should it land? He needed to know where the two wounded Marines
were located. Pushing to his knees, Ethan crawled between the rocks and spotted
a Navy combat corpsman some hundred feet away, tending to the Marines who were
in critical condition. They didn’t look good. Damn.
He saw the grimness in the corpsman’s face as he tightened up a
tourniquet on one Marine’s bleeding thigh. The other Marine had a head injury.
No way could he ask the medevac to wait. The Marines were critical and would die
soon if they didn’t get immediate transport.
Ethan wondered if it would be too late. As he turned to keep
Porter updated, he couldn’t help but think of Sarah. Something told him she
would be piloting that Black Hawk into this fiery hell. Dammit!
Chapter 6
T he moment Sarah heard Ethan’s voice over her radio channel, her heart did a triple beat in her chest. She’d gotten the intel and GPS location of the Marines pinned down on a hill at the ready room from her flight commander. She held the cyclic and collective, pushing her Black Hawk to maximum, the blades thumping heavily, making the craft shake and shudder. Her copilot, Eddy Tait, a twenty-two-year-old warrant officer from the bayous of Louisiana recently out of training, was busy with the radio frequencies. She watched her next waypoint coming up on her HUD, heads-up display, banking to the left. In the rear was her aircrew chief, Hubbard. She had two medics on the flight, Carew and Pascal, because this was a nine-line call and both Marines were critical. Her medics were solid players, especially Pascal because he was an 18 Delta corpsman, the most highly trained combat medics in the world. Tait was questionable because this was his first rotation and he wasn’t aggressive when it came down to flying into bullets and RPGs exploding around them. She’d seen the fear in his face before they lifted off. He’d gain a set of cojones over time.
The heat rising off the earth hurled the Black Hawk up and down like a yo-yo as it hit big air pockets. As she kept them as steady as possible, Sarah constantly moved her gaze between the cockpit panel and the land five thousand feet below them. Her dark helmet visor was drawn down across the upper half of her face, the mic near her lips. She felt the urgency, knowing two Marines were critical. While forcing herself not to think about Ethan being down there, she milked every bit of speed out of her Black Hawk. Tait was working the overhead throttles to get every
their bellies, firing systematically, not wildly. They were trained and
disciplined, not wasting any more ammo than necessary to kill the enemy.
He leaned over and told the officer there was a split Taliban
force of ninety men. The red-haired officer paled. Ethan could tell this was a
young lieutenant, not battle hardened with experience. He then heard the throaty
roar of the M4s going online from the SEAL contingent. They joined in with the
Marines’ M16 rifles, laying down fire and halting the Taliban attempt to overrun
their position.
Ethan’s job was to get the overview, assess their position and
then, because he was comms, get these Marines the help they needed in order to
repulse the Taliban. The screams of raging Taliban soldiers, gunfire, the
explosion of RPGs and the curses of the Marines were deafening. Crouching down
behind a rock, near Porter, Ethan worked the radios, seeing what he could get in
the way of support.
He grinned, finding an A-10 warthog pilot loitering in the area
with a load of bombs and a Gatling gun that could repulse the Taliban. Ethan
quickly gave the pilot their GPS location. The pilot, who called himself
Wolverine, said he’d redline to their position and get there in about twenty
minutes.
Feeling better, Ethan turned, told the officer and then moved
between two towering rocks. He went prone and began to pick off the Taliban as
they crawled over the top of the hill. In his mind, he worried about the medevac
coming in. Where should it land? He needed to know where the two wounded Marines
were located. Pushing to his knees, Ethan crawled between the rocks and spotted
a Navy combat corpsman some hundred feet away, tending to the Marines who were
in critical condition. They didn’t look good. Damn.
He saw the grimness in the corpsman’s face as he tightened up a
tourniquet on one Marine’s bleeding thigh. The other Marine had a head injury.
No way could he ask the medevac to wait. The Marines were critical and would die
soon if they didn’t get immediate transport.
Ethan wondered if it would be too late. As he turned to keep
Porter updated, he couldn’t help but think of Sarah. Something told him she
would be piloting that Black Hawk into this fiery hell. Dammit!
Chapter 6
T he moment Sarah heard Ethan’s voice over her radio channel, her heart did a triple beat in her chest. She’d gotten the intel and GPS location of the Marines pinned down on a hill at the ready room from her flight commander. She held the cyclic and collective, pushing her Black Hawk to maximum, the blades thumping heavily, making the craft shake and shudder. Her copilot, Eddy Tait, a twenty-two-year-old warrant officer from the bayous of Louisiana recently out of training, was busy with the radio frequencies. She watched her next waypoint coming up on her HUD, heads-up display, banking to the left. In the rear was her aircrew chief, Hubbard. She had two medics on the flight, Carew and Pascal, because this was a nine-line call and both Marines were critical. Her medics were solid players, especially Pascal because he was an 18 Delta corpsman, the most highly trained combat medics in the world. Tait was questionable because this was his first rotation and he wasn’t aggressive when it came down to flying into bullets and RPGs exploding around them. She’d seen the fear in his face before they lifted off. He’d gain a set of cojones over time.
The heat rising off the earth hurled the Black Hawk up and down like a yo-yo as it hit big air pockets. As she kept them as steady as possible, Sarah constantly moved her gaze between the cockpit panel and the land five thousand feet below them. Her dark helmet visor was drawn down across the upper half of her face, the mic near her lips. She felt the urgency, knowing two Marines were critical. While forcing herself not to think about Ethan being down there, she milked every bit of speed out of her Black Hawk. Tait was working the overhead throttles to get every
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