Primary Valor, Jack Mars [black female authors .txt] 📗

“The troops down there areattempting radio contact,” Rachel said. She was listening to something comingthrough her helmet speaker. “They are warning us in Spanish to identifyourselves or leave the area immediately. This is a restricted government area. Ifwe do not identify ourselves, we will be shot down.”

“Terrific,” Ed said. “Ask them ifthey know a good restaur… Wait. I got something.”

It was there. Something was rightthere, below them.

“Right under us. Put the lightthere.”

It was the plane, or what was leftof it. It was wrecked, and spread out over a wide area. His breath caught inhis throat. It looked bad. Trees were knocked over, sideways, broken apart, ina long line. After that, there was a depression, a gash in the earth, thatseemed to lead into the forest.

“That has to be it.”

“That’s it,” Rachel said. “That’sa plane crash.”

Ed was already up and moving. “I’mgoing in.”

He dropped the rope over the side.

“Ed,” Jacob said. “It’s prettydense down there. You drop through that canopy, you have no idea what you’regoing to hit.”

Ed didn’t have space in his mindfor debate. He decided to keep it simple.

“I’m going,” he said.

“We can drop you back at theclear-cut. At least you’ll be able to see what’s about to kill you.”

“No time,” Ed said. “I’d have tohike back over here. We don’t have all night.”

To their left, a light flashed inthe distance. It came from the ground. Ed knew what it was instantly, withoutthought.

“Rocket,” he said. “Incoming.”

“I see it,” Jacob said. His voicewas completely calm. “Hold on. Taking evasive action.”

The chopper banked hard now, tothe right. Ed went to the floor, his fingers gripping the metal slats. From thecorner of his eye, he saw the rocket zip past. It was a dumb weapon, no brain. Someguy threw the launcher up on his shoulder, took his best shot. And missed. Somewherein the distance, the rocket exploded, the sound muffled by the rain and thedistance.

The chopper leveled out again.

It came down the hillside, stopped,and hovered.

“We don’t have a lot of time tohang around here,” Jacob said.

“In other words,” Rachel said. “Ifyou’re gonna go…”

“I’m gone,” Ed said. He jumped up,checked his weapons, his water, his gear. He grabbed the heavy rope.

“Remember the clear-cut,” Jacobsaid. “West and a little bit south.”

“Got it. Thanks for the ride.”

He didn’t hesitate. Fast ropingwas not like jumping from a plane. Jumping from a plane, there was always thatmoment, that split second when… Jumping from a chopper was like over the falls,here we go.

He dropped through the darkness.

He crashed through the uppercanopy. The branches were thick, sharp. He was tangled, they tore at him,ripped him. He plunged down through it, sliding along. His face was scratched. Heturned his head away.

In the distance another missilelaunched. He saw the light flash through the trees. It was the only thing hecould see.

That chopper needed to go. Whetherhe was on this rope or not, they were going to start moving.

He let go of the rope. The dropwas sudden. His guts rose into his throat. He fell through the dark, hopingthat it…

Boom. He hit the ground androlled. Ten feet, he guessed. That last drop was only about ten feet. He lay onthe ground.

The rope was gone, yanked upwardand out of the forest. The helicopter zoomed away, its rotor chop disappearinginto the distance. Somewhere over there, the rocket exploded.

Ed lay another few seconds,listening.

The chopper was out theresomewhere, moving away. It was still up.

Ed climbed to his feet. He didn’ttake a break. He didn’t stop to think. He just started moving down the hill. Theembankment was steep, and the ground was soft. He was slipping and sliding,grabbing tree trunks to anchor himself. Below him, the flashlights were movinguphill. He could just see them now, their glow against the sky.

If the plane was where he thoughtit was, he and those lights were going to converge on it around the same time.

He started moving faster, plungingblindly downhill.

* * *

“Trouble coming,” Luke said.

He was speaking to himself. Hestood at the ragged, gaping hole where the cockpit had been, peering out intothe darkness.

A helicopter had just passedoverhead. A couple of rockets had been fired. Was it a firefight? He couldn’tsee enough of what had happened to tell. The chopper was well off in thedistance now.

The lights in the forest belowthem were moving closer.

He had his MP5. He had fourmagazines. He had a couple of grenades left. A couple of knives. But he was oneman. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. His shoulder was in bad shape. Soonhe wouldn’t be able to lift his left arm. And he could barely walk.

It seemed that he had donesomething to his ankle in the crash. He probably sprained it. It wasn’t thelevel of pain he associated with a broken bone. But it was swelling, and ithurt a lot. It was hard to put weight on it.

He still had his pack. He shoulddig out a painkiller, but there was no time. They had to move. If they couldput some real estate between themselves and those guys coming up the hill, hewould stop and take a painkiller then. The men were looking for this plane, notany specific people. Once he and the girl were away from the plane a decentdistance, they would be a lot harder to find.

He sighed. It was going to be along, wet night out there, and the morning wasn’t guaranteed to be any better.

“We need to go now,” he said toCharlotte. She was standing behind him. He could feel her presence there.

“What if they’re coming to rescueus?” she said.

He shook his head. “That would benice. But in my experience, no one really comes to the rescue. You kind of haveto do it on your own.”

“You came to rescue me, didn’tyou?”

He looked back at her.

She looked at him. Then she lookedpast him. Suddenly she screamed.

There was something behind him. Luketurned, but it was going to be too late. He seemed to be moving in slow motion.

Oh no. Not like this.

A man was looming there, outsidethe plane, just a few feet away. A large black man in dark clothes. He washolding a machine