The Action Pack Box Set, page 91
A single shot rang out and the lone soldier quivered slightly. Megan started in shock, watching. The Mordanian stood for a few moments longer and then suddenly his legs buckled and his knees hit the cold earth with a dull crack. The weapon in his hands dropped beside him as he slowly toppled face down into the snow.
Megan, Bolav and Callum sat absolutely still for almost five minutes, watching, waiting, too afraid to move. Megan wondered how many men must have been in the forest to have killed over twenty Mordanian rebels so quickly. As she watched, so she got her answer.
Three men emerged from the tree line, all wearing Artic–combat suits and carrying assault weapons at the ready. They swept the carnage of the scene before them with practiced efficiency, alert like wild animals, legs crouched like coiled springs, faces hidden behind balaclavas.
From beside Megan, Callum whispered in a taut voice.
‘Special Forces, probably British SAS.’
Megan nodded, but was not prepared for the harshly whispered voice that came from behind her.
‘American, actually.’
The three of them whirled and Megan felt an almost supernatural wave of fear overcome her as part of the forest seemed to come alive. Two more of the elite troops rose up from the frozen forest floor, their weapons trained upon Megan and her companions. Megan tried uselessly to shield Callum with her body. The American gestured with a movement of his weapon as he spoke.
‘Into the road.’
Megan, Callum and Bolav moved out of the tree line and into the road, the American soldiers backing off to give them space. The man who had appeared behind them lifted his balaclava to reveal a surprisingly young face, a shaven head and keen, quick eyes.
‘That her?’ asked one of the other soldiers in a rough Chicago accent.
‘That’s her,’ their young leader said knowingly. ‘Megan Mitchell, correct?’
Megan blinked in surprise. ‘You know me?’
‘You’re to come with us, ma’am,’ the soldier said with abrupt, military efficiency. ‘My name is Lieutenant Lincoln Cole, United States Navy Seals.’
Before Megan could reply another American soldier appeared, moving from further down the road to join them. He held a high–velocity sniper rifle in his grip.
‘Road’s clear, all hostiles down.’
Lieutenant Cole nodded, looking quickly at Callum, who was clearly favouring his injury.
‘Let’s go,’ Cole decided promptly.
Megan did not move and looked down at the dead Mordanian who had surrendered.
‘Why did you kill him?’ she asked Cole quietly. ‘He gave himself up.’
Cole’s expression bore no trace of regret or remorse as he replied.
‘He was an obstacle to our mission. We are charged to extract you from this country without anyone knowing of our being here. We have no contigency for hostages or prisoners of war. If he had been released, he would have reported what happened here. As it is, the shots will have been heard for miles around. We need to move now, and quickly.’
Megan shook her head.
‘They were taking us somewhere safe. They were just an escort.’
‘We’ll be taking you somewhere safer,’ Cole replied sharply but without raising his voice. ‘Unless you’d rather remain here?’
Megan tried searching for a suitable retort, but before she could speak Callum gestured to one of the soldier’s back–packs.
‘Radio?’
‘Not in this terrain,’ Cole replied with a shake of his head. ‘We’ll need to clear the mountains by dawn to make it to our extraction point.’
‘How far is that?’ Megan asked.
‘Twelve clicks, give or take.’
Megan shook her head. ‘Callum’s not going to make it that far in his condition.’
Lieutenant Cole glanced appraisingly at the towering Scotsman.
‘He’ll survive.’
Megan took a pace toward the American.
‘These men were taking us to a farm out here, where we might find help. We could rest up there. It can’t be far.’
‘Our orders are not to make contact with any inhabitants of this area.’
‘A bit late for that,’ Callum said, jabbing a thumb in Bolav’s direction. ‘Besides, none of us are in suitable condition for a night out beneath the stars and we won’t make the lowlands by dawn. We need shelter and we need food.’
Lieutenant Cole glanced at his men.
‘Was there anything on this road to the south?’
‘There was a farmstead,’ the sniper replied from memory. ‘Nothing else substantial until Anterik. I’d say they were taking them there.’
Lieutenant Cole glanced at Megan and her battered companions for a few moments more, and then turned away.
‘Fine. Let’s move!’
***
45
‘Any sign of movement?’ Lieutenant Cole whispered.
Megan crouched in the freezing darkness as the SEALS silently observed the way ahead. As Megan peered through the dense trees she thought she saw the faintest glimmer of light, a flicker barely noticeable beyond the trees.
The forest ended ahead of them, opening into a broad plain perhaps a kilometre square. In the moonlight Megan could just make out a cluster of buildings; a mill, houses, a small church and what looked like barns surrounded by ploughed fields thick with blankets of snow.
‘Doesn’t look like much,’ she observed in a hushed whisper.
All of the windows of the buildings were closed with what appeared to be shutters, only the tiniest slivers of light visible. Callum surveyed the scene.
‘No defences, no gates or walls or observation posts.’
Lieutenant Cole nodded.
‘The village looks unharmed,’ he said. ‘Intelligence told us that this territory had been overrun by Rameron’s forces.’
Bolav spoke from the impenetrable darkness that enveloped them.
‘It was, weeks ago. Maybe they did not put up a big fight, no? Maybe they change sides?’
Cole did not respond, one finger pressing into his ear as he listened to one of his men. He turned to look over his shoulder at Megan.
‘You all stay here and out of sight until we come for you.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Megan asked urgently.
‘We’re going to enter the buildings and ensure they’re not being used as a barracks by rebel forces. We’ll go in hard and shock them.’
The lieutenant made to move but Megan grabbed his arm insistently.
‘If you go blazing in there just a moment too slowly, anyone with a radio will bring the rest of Rameron’s forces down on us like a ton of bricks. Let us go inside instead.’
‘You?’ Cole muttered in contempt.
‘I can knock on the door. Callum’s injured, Bolav can interpret. We’re on the run. If anyone in there has a shred of human decency, they’ll let us in. If you don’t hear from us in five minutes, then it’s a rebel stronghold and you can come in with all the bloody force you want.’
Lieutenant Cole frowned in concern, scanning the tiny hamlet with his hawk–like gaze before looking back at Megan.
‘Our mission is to extract you from Mordania alive.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Megan replied. ‘I’ll wager that anyone living in there won’t have any love for the conflict that’s raging around them. They’ll help. If they’re pro–rebellion, then you’ll know soon enough and we’ll have lost nothing. You said it yourself, the enemy will have heard the gunfight in the forest.’
Cole hesitated for a moment longer and then nodded, speaking into his microphone to his men before turning to Megan.
‘Five minutes from when the door opens. We’ll surround the building. If you don’t come out, we’ll come in.’
The night air was bitter, piercing even Megan’s thick coat as she led Bolav and Callum toward the buildings. Their feet crunched through the thick snow as they walked, and ahead the door of the nearest house suddenly opened, a bright rectangle of light spilling out across the snowy ground. A figure appeared, a man who must have heard their approach through the snow. His voice cut through the night.
‘Alenk passe plezten?!’
The voice was deep, almost threatening, but Megan could hear the anxiety in the man’s tones. Bolav called out in reply.
‘Ally! Ally. Tun assistev!’
Bolav hurried through the door as Megan supported Callum. The interpreter exchanged a few words with the man before waving them to follow, and with a weighty sense of caution Megan guided Callum through the door as it was closed behind them by another, unseen person.
The house was filled with warmth and light, and Megan blinked at the contrast in temperature as she helped Callum into a seat, turning to see who had let them in.
The man was probably in his late fifties, with greying hair and a squat, stocky build. With his big brown eyes and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he looked like a cross between a clockmaker and a lumberjack. Megan took off her coat as Bolav spoke rapidly to the man, gesticulating as he explained the events of the past few days.
The man turned, looking at Megan and Callum.
‘You have come far, you must be hungry,’ he said in heavily accented English. ‘And you must both hurt.’
‘We’ve had better days,’ Megan replied.
Megan turned again to see who had closed the door behind them. A slender, modestly dressed woman with long silver and black hair tied in a pony–tail smiled nervously at her.
‘I am Alexandre Humek,’ the farmer said to Megan, ‘and this is my wife, Marin.’ He gestured to a kitchen table dominated by a simple but welcome spread of breads, cheeses, hot coffee and tea, jam and both ham and pork.
‘We were eating dinner. Please,’ Alexandre said, ‘help yourselves. I will return in a moment with medicine for your friend’s injuries.’
Megan watched as Alexandre and Marin left the room and Bolav and Callum dove toward the food on the table. Megan did not move, glancing instead around the kitchen.
The house was large by Mordanian standards, well kept and with a comfortable air about it, a curious cross between modern materials and rustic styling. A fireplace dominated one wall of the room, but the heating was modern, radiators lining the opposite wall. The kettle and cooking implements were clean but old, perhaps turn of the century. Yet despite this, a fairly modern looking computer was visible in a study off the main hallway leading toward the kitchen.
‘What are you thinking?’ Callum asked from around a mouthful of bread.
Megan shook her head vaguely, looking around further.
‘I’m not sure,’ she said curiously. ‘Where do you think they’re getting their power from?’
‘Diesel generator, most likely,’ Callum guessed. ‘It’s a farm, after all.’
‘I didn’t hear one when we arrived,’ Megan murmured.
‘Alexandre’s one of the good guys,’ Callum said, taking another bite of bread. ‘I can tell.’
‘That so?’ Megan enquired.
‘It is so,’ Callum confirmed cheerfully. ‘It’s a gift.’
Megan was about to reply when she heard Alexandre coming back down the hall. The farmer walked into the kitchen and looked at his guests.
‘You are eating well?’ he asked earnestly.
‘Like kings,’ Callum replied.
Alexandre nodded and looked at Megan.
‘I am wondering, why are you here, in Mordania?’ he asked.
‘Bad luck,’ Megan replied. ‘We were working in Thessalia but had to travel into the country. We were caught by General Rameron, who extended his own personal courtesy to me.’
Megan gestured to the bruises and cuts on her face. Alexandre nodded vaguely, the edge of his bottom lip pursed in his teeth. Megan looked at his strange expression.
‘What is it?’
The farmer seemed cautious suddenly, guarded.
‘Why were you not in Thessalia, where it is safe?’
‘We had to come out here,’ Megan replied. ‘We were looking for someone.’
The farmer nodded again, and looked briefly down at his feet.
Megan looked down at Alexandre’s hands. In his right hand he held a chunky looking satellite phone. Megan saw that the farmer’s hands were marked around the nails with the dirt of years’ of honest work, the palms calloused and the skin tough. Yet it did not look like the work of a farmer, more the work of an engineer, the dirt not soil but oils or greases and lubricants.
Alexandre handed the satellite phone to Megan.
‘You might be able to use this,’ he said. ‘It will help you to return to Thessalia. I think that you should leave as soon as possible.’
Megan took the phone from the farmer.
‘You have a lot of modern equipment here,’ Megan said, gesturing to the computer and the phone.
‘We are isolated,’ Alexandre replied. ‘Sometimes these expensive toys can save lives, especially in the winter.’
Megan nodded, looking at the phone and catching Callum watching her with a raised eyebrow as she did so.
‘How much power does it have?’ Megan asked Alexandre.
‘None,’ the farmer confessed quickly, then more slowly. ‘It has not been used for some time and we no longer possess the charger. I have been trying to find a way to charge it. Perhaps you might have an idea of how to do that.’
Megan looked at it curiously, turning it over in her hand. She was about to press the ‘on’ button when her heart froze in her chest. She stared at the phone for a long moment before walking casually away from the table, putting some distance between himself and Alexandre.
‘You have an expensive satellite phone that can save lives, but you have lost the charger?’
Alexandre looked at Megan blankly, then at Callum before replying.
‘My country is at war. I have had other things on my mind.’
Megan saw Callum watching her strangely, suddenly alert and on guard. Bolav was watching the exchange uncertainly, his cheeks puffed out with unchewed food.
Megan looked again at the satellite phone in her hand.
‘I used to have one of these,’ she said quietly. ‘This is more advanced than the one that I had, newer and more powerful. They’re typically owned by reporters, especially war reporters.’
Callum was tensed now, ready to move. Alexandre looked suddenly concerned.
‘I did not know that,’ he said.
‘It’s true,’ Megan said, walking slowly back toward the farmer. ‘We use funny little vibrating pens to put our names on the backs of the phones, you see. The pens raise little bumps on the plastic surface of the phone so that it cannot be erased. I’m surprised that you did not notice it.’
Megan held the back of the phone out toward Callum, who could see the name written there. He shot the farmer a serious look. Megan came to within two feet of where Alexandre stood and held the phone out to him.
‘This phone belonged to Amy O’Hara,’ she said softly, looking down at the name etched indelibly into the rear of the satellite phone. ‘How did you happen to come by it?’
Alexandre looked at Megan, and then suddenly he saw Callum get to his feet and come lumbering toward them both. He swallowed thickly, but he held his ground.
‘I did not look at the phone much,’ he said quietly.
Megan leaned closer to him.
‘Where is she?’ she demanded in a voice heavy with threat. ‘Tell me, now.’
***
46
Alexandre stood still in the silence of the kitchen, watching Megan for what felt like a long time before speaking with a tone now devoid of welcome.
‘Your friend here, Bolav, says that you have come from the rebel camp. He says that you have escaped from an escort of General Rameron’s men.’
‘That’s right,’ Megan said. ‘There was an accident. Our escorts were unconscious or killed and we were able to flee into the forest.’
‘Not very quickly,’ Alexandre pointed out, looking at Callum. ‘He cannot run in his condition.’
‘We did the best we could,’ Megan defended herself. ‘There wasn’t much choice.’
Alexandre remained unconvinced, looking at the three of them.
‘I heard gunfire, an hour ago, to the north of here.’
‘We heard it too,’ Megan said honestly.
‘Do you bring the war to my doorstep?’ Alexandre challenged. ‘I want no part of this conflict, no part of the fighting.’
‘We are not bringing the war to you,’ Megan insisted.
‘Yet you escaped from the rebels no more than a mile or two from here, and in your haste must have left a trail to follow in the snow, that will lead to us.’
‘We had no choice,’ Megan repeated.
‘The fighting that we heard, it was nothing to do with you?’
Megan hesitated only a fraction of a second before replying.
‘The fighting was nothing to do with us.’
Alexandre suddenly shoved one heavy hand into the centre of Megan’s chest. The stocky farmer was quick for his age and the blow sent Megan reeling backward into Callum, who staggered off balance.
Alexandre’s apparent fear had vanished in an instant. The door slammed behind the farmer as he vanished down the hallway toward the kitchen. Megan leapt forward, yanking open the door and taking a single pace before stopping in the hall.
Silhouetted in the kitchen doorway, Alexandre stood with a double–barelled shotgun aimed directly at Megan’s chest. Megan stared down the muzzle of the weapon, the farmer regarding her without fear from behind the sights.
‘Get out of my house. You are no longer welcome here.’
Two more men appeared behind Alexandre in the hall, both armed and bearing grim and uncompromising expressions. Megan realised that Alexandre had gone with his wife not to fetch medicines, but reinforcements.
‘We need your help,’ Megan said quickly. ‘Please put down your weapons.’
‘You can either walk out of this building,’ Alexandre hissed, ‘or I can spend the night wiping you off the walls with a cloth.’
