Read Online V Plague (Book 11): Merciless by Dirk Patton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Dirk Patton
Tags: Zombies
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in attempts to hide smiles.
“Oh, grow up,” Rachel said loud enough for all of them to hear.
There were some surprised looks and a couple of chuckles.
“We’ve got a change of destination,” the Ranger who had come to the beach said.
“Why?” Irina blurted.
“Hostilities have resumed between us and the fucking Russkies,” he said, unaware of who and what Irina really was. “We’re bombing the hell out of them. But that’s not why we’re heading north.”
“North?” Rachel asked in surprise.
“Yes, ma’am. The Russian plane carrying the Major went down over Ellesmere Island. Right by Greenland. There’s a survivor on the ground.”
“He survived?” Rachel shouted, stepping forward.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but we don’t know who survived. Pearl can only see a single body on thermal. It’s cloudy there. It could be one of the Russians.”
“I got ten bucks says it’s the Major. That fucker’s too mean to die.”
The Ranger who spoke up earned a look from the Sergeant.
“I’ve got twenty!” Rachel smiled at the man before turning back. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”
“We’re waiting for the men I sent to the quartermaster’s building, ma’am. It’s cold there. Very. We need the right gear.”
Rachel began pacing, hope swelling in her chest. That son of a bitch! She should have known he’d find a way to escape.
“Why us? Greenland is a very long way away. How long to get there?” Irina asked, happy for Rachel, but tempering her excitement for the moment.
“3,600 miles,” the pilot said as he walked up, a large pack hanging over his left shoulder. “Us, because everyone else is busy fighting. Should take us about eight and a half hours.”
“In that?” Irina asked, pointing at the C-130.
“No, ma’am,” he said. “That would take most of a day. Navy was nice enough to leave a C-40 sitting on the tarmac, just waiting for us.”
He pointed, Rachel and Irina looking across a broad expanse of taxiways. A large jet sat gleaming in the sun.
“That looks like a commercial airliner,” Rachel said, surprised.
“That’s because without the Navy paint, you’d see it at most any airport,” the pilot said. “In the civilian world, it’s called a Boeing 737.”
9
After talking to Lucas Martin on the sat phone, Igor had thought about his options, then called the only number programmed into the phone. The young SEAL officer who had given it to him, Lieutenant Sam.
“Go for Sam,” the man had answered, a note of curiosity in his voice.
In broken English, Igor identified himself. Sam quickly remembered the big Russian.
“I was going to call you,” Sam said, surprising Igor. “We’re moving. Radioactive fallout coming into the region and it’s too hot to stay. Going to pick you up on our way east.”
“I need go Russia,” Igor replied. “Need plane.”
“Why do you need to go to Russia?” Sam asked suspiciously.
“Friend in trouble.”
Igor felt that was all the explanation that was needed. They spoke for a few more minutes, Sam ignoring the request for a plane. He gave Igor instructions on where to meet them as they traveled along Interstate 90, then disconnected the call.
For several minutes, Igor sat in the leather recliner. Dog’s chin was resting on his leg and he absently rubbed his furry head as he thought. He had understood perhaps half of what the American had said. But, like any Russian, he had a healthy fear of radiation after the Chernobyl disaster in his home country.
Deciding it was best to go with the SEALs and find a way to get on a plane, Igor spent close to an hour preparing to leave their new home. With Dog trailing along, he’d gone into the garage and refueled the side-by-side UTV from two, five-gallon plastic containers. Taking a moment to check the oil, he went back into the house and gathered his gear.
Packing
“Oh, grow up,” Rachel said loud enough for all of them to hear.
There were some surprised looks and a couple of chuckles.
“We’ve got a change of destination,” the Ranger who had come to the beach said.
“Why?” Irina blurted.
“Hostilities have resumed between us and the fucking Russkies,” he said, unaware of who and what Irina really was. “We’re bombing the hell out of them. But that’s not why we’re heading north.”
“North?” Rachel asked in surprise.
“Yes, ma’am. The Russian plane carrying the Major went down over Ellesmere Island. Right by Greenland. There’s a survivor on the ground.”
“He survived?” Rachel shouted, stepping forward.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but we don’t know who survived. Pearl can only see a single body on thermal. It’s cloudy there. It could be one of the Russians.”
“I got ten bucks says it’s the Major. That fucker’s too mean to die.”
The Ranger who spoke up earned a look from the Sergeant.
“I’ve got twenty!” Rachel smiled at the man before turning back. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”
“We’re waiting for the men I sent to the quartermaster’s building, ma’am. It’s cold there. Very. We need the right gear.”
Rachel began pacing, hope swelling in her chest. That son of a bitch! She should have known he’d find a way to escape.
“Why us? Greenland is a very long way away. How long to get there?” Irina asked, happy for Rachel, but tempering her excitement for the moment.
“3,600 miles,” the pilot said as he walked up, a large pack hanging over his left shoulder. “Us, because everyone else is busy fighting. Should take us about eight and a half hours.”
“In that?” Irina asked, pointing at the C-130.
“No, ma’am,” he said. “That would take most of a day. Navy was nice enough to leave a C-40 sitting on the tarmac, just waiting for us.”
He pointed, Rachel and Irina looking across a broad expanse of taxiways. A large jet sat gleaming in the sun.
“That looks like a commercial airliner,” Rachel said, surprised.
“That’s because without the Navy paint, you’d see it at most any airport,” the pilot said. “In the civilian world, it’s called a Boeing 737.”
9
After talking to Lucas Martin on the sat phone, Igor had thought about his options, then called the only number programmed into the phone. The young SEAL officer who had given it to him, Lieutenant Sam.
“Go for Sam,” the man had answered, a note of curiosity in his voice.
In broken English, Igor identified himself. Sam quickly remembered the big Russian.
“I was going to call you,” Sam said, surprising Igor. “We’re moving. Radioactive fallout coming into the region and it’s too hot to stay. Going to pick you up on our way east.”
“I need go Russia,” Igor replied. “Need plane.”
“Why do you need to go to Russia?” Sam asked suspiciously.
“Friend in trouble.”
Igor felt that was all the explanation that was needed. They spoke for a few more minutes, Sam ignoring the request for a plane. He gave Igor instructions on where to meet them as they traveled along Interstate 90, then disconnected the call.
For several minutes, Igor sat in the leather recliner. Dog’s chin was resting on his leg and he absently rubbed his furry head as he thought. He had understood perhaps half of what the American had said. But, like any Russian, he had a healthy fear of radiation after the Chernobyl disaster in his home country.
Deciding it was best to go with the SEALs and find a way to get on a plane, Igor spent close to an hour preparing to leave their new home. With Dog trailing along, he’d gone into the garage and refueled the side-by-side UTV from two, five-gallon plastic containers. Taking a moment to check the oil, he went back into the house and gathered his gear.
Packing
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