Part 10 (1/2)

Soon legions of leeches ambushed them as they trudged in and out of black slime up to their thighs. The slime sucked them down, detaining them for the crocodiles they couldn't see, taking them way beyond merely wet and filthy. Jamie had already witnessed a man lose a leg to a croc's jaws. And the leeches were enormous and clung to their pant legs, sensing the proximity of their blood. She'd heard stories about what happened when leeches got up your nose or up your t.w.a.t, about all the diseases they vectored.

Alonzo said he was watching for crocs and showed her how to remove the leeches, starting at the smaller, thinner end by breaking the seal they created, then repeating the process at the other end, and * 86 *

finally tossing the pernicious creature well away. Jamie mastered the technique d.a.m.n fast.

Keeping count with a taut mutter, she used her combat knife to fillet every single one with fastidious efficiency, then clamped the knife between her teeth until she spotted the next predator. Alonzo let her do it as long as she didn't slow down; he seemed to understand this was the price for her sanity. And it kept her mind off crocodiles.

Could Alonzo have antic.i.p.ated this? At first light that morning, while she took her turn lathering on more cloakcream, he kept watch and whispered the whole time about his arcane plot to acquire two additional pairs of boots when they returned to the FOB so their others could get a chance to really dry out.

Now, when her head dropped to scrutinize the slime for new abominations, he nudged her to stay frosty, nudged her to focus beyond the grasping, choking, greedy growth. ”C'mon, kid, keep those eyeb.a.l.l.s where they can do some good. We do the surprising, not them.” The thought of those dry boots helped her obey.

* 87 *

Chapter nine.

you Keep on GoinG Though they hadn't detected any sign of either civilians or PIA, the frown on Alonzo's face looked different from any Jamie had seen on him so far. He was more than frosty. He was jumpy. And that made her jumpy.

Then came the call for help from Kilo Company's other two platoons, which had moved into San Salvacia without waiting for third platoon or, it appeared, the lost snipes who should have been overwatching the town from hides on the hill to the east.

The sweep of San Salvacia had turned into a cl.u.s.terf.u.c.k.

Now, according to ops center commo, an intense grenade and small arms counterattack pinned down Kilo's first and second platoons near the village center. Those not already lying dead or wounded on the dirt road had taken refuge in the only concrete structure in the village, a colonnaded marketplace near the pier.

Resupplied at last by their allies 1,300 kilometers across the South China Sea, PIA fighters had made a stand in San Salvacia. Although Jamie and Alonzo were a kilometer away when the calls for aid came, they were closer than anyone else and arrived first.

”There,” Alonzo whispered, pointing to a two-story wood-and-wattle house about halfway between the blacktopped road and the bay.

It was the sole two-story building east of the firefight. First platoon must have moved right by it, believing it secure. Maybe it was. Maybe not.

Alonzo and Jamie approached it from the north, through the forest.

It looked empty and quiet, as did the small shack closer to them, but the * 88 *

second floor of the house offered a perfect place from which to ambush first platoon once it moved past.

Jamie had already learned how to think like Alonzo. Got to a.s.sume there's PIA inside, unloading on Kilo. An electric-hot blast s.h.i.+vered through her arms and legs-the Fear making a grab for her.

She managed to s.h.i.+ver it out of her, imagined it into a dark puddle at her feet.

A nod to Alonzo, a quick look behind her to ensure all was clear, and she scurried through low brush to a corner of the shack, her E19 set to silent rock-and-roll. She looked up, swung around the corner weapon-first, and looked up again. Clear. She signaled Alonzo and a few seconds later he joined her, watching her back.

The small-arms fire she heard sounded farther away, coming from the bay to the west-not the building in front of them. She used the IMS capability built into her comlink eyewraps to conduct a quick sweep.

Nothing. Good. No civilians anyway.

But if these PIA fighters had surveillance countermeasures, her IMS ”eyes” wouldn't spot them. This building she was about to enter might be crawling with unidentified-f.u.c.king-out-there PIA. She and Alonzo moved fast to the door a few feet away, and Jamie crouched low, swiftly slipping through it. Dimly lit, but she beheld an empty room.

The effects of this commutation quivered through every muscle in her body.

Breathing harder, trying to ignore the high-frequency vibration that engulfed her, she took it in. Holes in the wattle walls, dank. Empty food cans and packaging on the floor. The dark, pungent smell of sweated fear. Not very long ago, this place had lots of people in it and they were plenty scared.

Still crouching, Jamie scooted across the s.p.a.ce to the only other doorway and swept the rooms beyond. Alonzo followed and covered the open stairway. First floor clear and IMS indicated the s.p.a.ce above them was clear, too. But suddenly rifle fire erupted from the building's roof. The sounds were distinctive-Chinese Type 86 sniper rifle and QBZ-96 a.s.sault rifle fire.

Jamie took the stairs carefully, silently, anxious that they'd been seen and now headed into a trap. But why would they shoot and give * 89 *

themselves away? Maybe they didn't see us the same way we didn't see them.

Halfway up, she stopped cold and flattened onto her belly, her head just above the plane of the second floor. IMS now blipped something thermal straight ahead, on the other side of a wall where a small balcony overlooked both the street and the area behind the house she and Alonzo had just traversed. Then she got another blip coming from above.

She stared in the direction of the balcony. The image there moved slightly. Is that a frigging foot? Why didn't I pick that up before?

Two unidentified-f.u.c.king-out-there anyway. Probably more. And what else do they have? Detection technology that can spot a little bit of me? She sprayed a line of m.u.f.fled E19 fire through the thin wall at the balcony while hiking herself onto the second floor and then rolled on her back to pepper the steep-pitched rush roof above.

On her feet again after finis.h.i.+ng her roll, she extended her spray of fire along the rest of the roof while she darted into the second and then the third room, chancing that somebody in the fourth room wouldn't pop her. A lone cry from above informed her she'd scored at least once.

Now Jamie edged into the fourth room low and cautious, rifle leading.

She saw their legs first. Her gaze got stuck on the mud clinging to their boots. She froze, had to think and think again about moving her eyes. Then her gaze leapt frantically from one boot to another, and she counted.

Ten boots. Ten Marine Corps-issue coyote-brown boots. Why didn't I notice this on IMS? They're here now. IMS shows them right here on the screen.

That's when she saw the blood. Blood covered the five contorted bodies laid out on the tarp, pooled around them on the unidentified-f.u.c.king-out-there PIA tarp. A brief flash of calm, detached lucidity took her.

Throats have all been slit. Probably right after being made to call out a false all-clear. And then first platoon pa.s.sed by and ended up trapped with their backs to the bay. So. It's really true. PIA fighters don't take prisoners, only hostages. And they kill their hostages.

Jamie hadn't looked at the faces of the dead. Hadn't yet found the courage to look right at their faces. But there was something about- * 90 *

No. No no no no no. She closed her eyes for a single heartbeat, hoping her fevered brain had made it all up.

When she opened her eyes again, they settled on one of those faces. It told the story of the man's terror as he died, and she felt what he felt-the choking, gasping desperation, the unwilling fade into hopelessness. She stared into lifeless eyes still shocked at the prospect of actually dying.

Arnoldt's eyes.

It was slow. She could see it in his eyes. Slow and agonizing and there had been no peace, no acceptance of the inevitable.

v You came down the street ahead of the platoon, didn't you? Slipped in here just like we did, thinking it was clear. But they saw you. Aw jeez, Arnie, why'd they see you and not us?

Alonzo's hand on Jamie's shoulder caused her to flinch.

”C'mon, kid. We're not done yet.”

Jamie didn't move, couldn't move, so Alonzo pulled her out of the room, forcefully but not roughly. He pulled her all the way back to the balcony, then down into a crouch with him behind a knocked-over table. But all she could see was that room and those boots and Arnie's face.

Alonzo grabbed her chin. ”Gwynmorgan! Look at me.”

”Was our dumb f.u.c.king luck, wasn't it?” Jamie murmured, her chin still in Alonzo's grip. ”If they'd posted someone out here on this balcony even a minute earlier, we'd be lying there with Arnie.”