Speaker 1: Dog soldier an apex predator story. Make a simple plan,
inform everyone involved with it, don't change it, kick it
in the ass. Colonel Charlie Beckworth, first Special Forces Operational Detachment, Delta,
thirteen hundred hours, Zulu, June twelfth, twenty ten, Nearesstan Province, Afghanistan.
First Sergeant William Graygill crouched behind a boulder and began
scanning the mountain pass ahead with the scope of his
MK seventeen scar H rifle. The sweat ran down his
face in rivulets, dripping from the tip of his nose
and chin. He was walking point for his rifle squad.
It wasn't uncommon for him to take point, since the
team had learned that his instincts were almost superhuman when
looking for insurgents. He slowly swept the pass ahead, looking
for any sign of ambush or IED's. He slowed his
breathing and let the calm spread over his body. Despite
the shimmering waves of heat, he was able to see
crisp details along both sides of the pass. They had
to go through this section of the mountains if they
were going to make it to the rendezvous with the
rest of the platoon. What do you see, top, whispered
Staff Sergeant Jacob Mumbles. McKinney. Gray Eagle didn't answer. He
just held up one finger from his non firing hand
and continued to sweep the pass. The jagged rock formations
on these mountains left so many places to hide, and
it was almost impossible to find them all. The sides
of these mountains were also riddled with caves sufficient size
to hide a large force of insurgents. Looking for them
was like finding a needle in a haystack. Are we
clear to proceed, ask McKenny. I don't know yet, whispered Gregel.
But if you're in a hurry, go ahead and stand up.
If you get killed, we'll know it's not safe. Uh No, thanks, Top,
love you too. Gregel froze when he saw a glen
of light reflecting from a shiny surface. It was likely
the scope of an enemy sniper. Contact, whispered Gregel. Get
ruez up here, got it, top, whispered McKenny, sliding back
from the position and motioning for another man to move up.
He crawled toward where Gregel still crouched beside the rock,
and slowly got into position and pushing his boony hat
back on his head. Ruez brought his M twenty four
SWS rifle up into position. Carefully, he removed the lens
covers from a skin go, and he readied the rifle.
Show me the way, top, said Ruiz softly. Far sight
of the ravine, said Gregel. Six hundred meters approximately halfway
up the side. Look for the boulder that looks like
a horse's head. Got the boulder, said Ruez. Thirty meters
left in ten up, said Gregel. Jagged fork in the rocks,
dark brown lines on the rock formation. Got it, top,
said Ruez. Where's he at? He's in that gap, said Gregel.
Wait for him to move. He's painting this side of
the ravine looking for us. Got him, said Ruez. Am
I clear of fire? Fire when ready, said Gregel. Holy Father,
whispered Ruez. Let my aim be true and my bullet
be swift, so that I may defend my brothers from harm.
Gregel had heard the prayer many times before. It was
how Ruez, as a devout Catholic, justified killing, and he
said it kept his conscience clear. Amen, whispered Ruez, as
he excelled softly. The sharp crack of the seven six
two by fifty one millimeters round shattered the stillness. Gregel
watched through his scope as the insurgent sniper tried to
turn toward the sound, only to have the side of
his head blown apart by the precision shot from Ruez.
Confirmed hit, said Gregel. Tango down. Ruez and Gregel continued
to watch that section, waiting for another insurgent to take
their place. After a few minutes, there were no more
signs of movement. Do you think he was alone? Asked Ruiz,
looks that way, replied Gregel. I'm going to do another
sweep before we move, just in case. After several minutes,
Gregel leaned back from his rifle in motion for the
rest of the squad to move up. I think we're clear,
said Gregel. Contact said Ruez, I've got movement up near
the sniper position grey. Egel immediately motioned for the others
to get down and returned to his scope. Zeroing in
on the position, he found the exact spot and began
to search the area. What did you see, Ruiz, I'm
not sure it was movement. Could you be a little
less helpful, asked Gregel. Well it looked like Ruiz, said
and then trailed off. It looked like what, asked Gregel.
You're gonna think I'm nuts, top, said Ruez. Well just
tell me what you saw, said Gregel. It looked like
a big gorilla. It was carrying off the dead sniper.
A few chuckles came from the group behind them, but
Gregel didn't laugh. Tell me exactly what you saw, said Gregel,
turning to look at Ruez. Well it was big, said Ruis,
like seven or eight feet tall, had the dead guy
slung over its shoulder like a back of potatoes, only
the guy looked like a kid compared to this thing.
Ruez thinks he saw bigfoot in Afghanistan, said McKenny, laughing.
I didn't say it was a bigfoot, snapped Ruez. Are
you sure that's exactly what you saw, asked Gregel. Yeah, top,
said Ruiz. I didn't see the face, but I saw
the side of its head. I saw the ear and
the profile of its nose. It was flat like a
gorilla in the head sloped back like a comb, and
it was a moving on two legs. What color was it?
It's dark brown, said Ruez. Shaggy hair and all see
it's a bigfoot, said McKenny. Gregel gave McKenny a sharp
look and he quit laughing. Don't be so quick to
dismiss this, said Gregel. I didn't know creatures like that
existed here, but I can tell you with certainty they
do exist. I've tracked them, and the Rockies have been
close to one four times. They can be dangerous. We'd
better use caution when we bet down for the night.
Now we got bigfoot insurgents to worry about. Sisquatch taliban,
said McKinny. A few of the team members chuckled with
any luck, said Gregel. It'll be content with the meal
that just carried off and leave us alone. If you
don't bother them, they won't bother you. At least that's
how the ones in America act crap, whispered McKinny, looking
anxiously at the rocks around them, as if this stuff
wasn't bad enough already. Gregel slid back from the rock
and did a quick head count. His nine man team
was just where they were supposed to be. He was
a squad leader, with McKinny as his assistant. Sergeant. Emelio
Ruckus Ruez was the team sniper sergeant Nico Knuckles Montenegro
was a team medic with Corporal David big Mac McMasters
and Sergeant Liam Garrison on the squad automatic weapons. The
remaining three were riflemen carrying the same rifle Greyagel carried.
They were Sergeant Keegan Johnson, Sergeant Hadeki Fuji Fujikawa, and
Corporal Ronan bear Bronson. Let's move, said Gregel. I want
to get through this pass before nightfall. That's going to
be a tough schedule to keep, said McKinny. That's ten
clicks through some nasty terrain. The alternative is to spend
the night in the pass with the insurgents and the monsters,
said Gregel. Right, said McKinny. A brisk walk. We'll do
us some good. Gregel chuckled and motioned for the team
to follow him as he headed into the pass. They
moved silently, falling into their assigned positions and covering every direction.
The tension level was high since they weren't sure if
they were walking into an ambush. Greagel was in constant motion.
Step look left, step, look right, step, sweep the ground
and step look up, and then he'd start the whole
thing over again. His head was on a constant swivel
as he led the team into the pass. The air
felt oppressive, and he imagined eyes on them from every
shadow and behind every boulder, but the entire area was
eerily silent. Time seemed to pass as if each second
were an eternity. They were all on high alert, listening
for any sound that might betray the location of their enemy.
Moving through a boulder field where an avalanche had buried
part of the trail, they were surprised to see something
glistening among the rocks. What the hell is that, asked McKinney.
Gregel shot him a dirty look for breaking the silence,
and then he sighed they'd been pushing hard for hours.
They might as well take a break. For them to
take a break, Gregel scanned the area as he took
a long pull from the mouthpiece of his camel back
water bladder. Hey top, said, Ruez, check this out. What
is it? Asked Gregel, not turning around. Is this what
I think it is? Ruez said, his voice taking on
an odd quality. You know about rocks and stuff, right.
Gregel turned to look at him and saw Ruez holding
a crystal about the size of a fist. It was
rough and had jagged edges with a brownish tint to it.
What are you asking me for, said Gregel. Just because
I'm a Lakota doesn't mean I know every rock and
weed on the planet top. I think it's a diamond,
said Ruis. No damn way, said Fujikawa. It's way too big.
That thing is massive. It's got to be a quartz.
I don't think so, said McKinney. I think he's right.
This stuff is everywhere. It busted out of these boulders
when they fell. I seriously doubt it's a diamond, said Gregel.
Tossed me a chunk. McKinny picked up a piece about
the size of a silver dollar and tossed it to him.
Gregel caught it and began examining it. He turned it
over in his hand and held it up to the light.
I have no idea, he said, looks like any other
crystal I've ever seen. I don't know anything about gems
or crystals. He reached into his vest and unsheathed his knife.
The seven and three quarter inch blade gleamed in the
sunlight as he sat the crystal on a rock. Using
the handily smacked it against the crystal with enough force
to knock it flying. He reached over and picked up
the crystal and found it didn't have a mark on it.
He tried scratching it with the tip of his blade,
but it left no mark. You might be right, mumbles
said Gregel, grinning. He tossed the stone back to McKinny.
You're not going to keep it, top, asked McKenny. No,
said Gregel. I'll pass. This place doesn't feel right, as
my people would say, this place has bad medicine. Well,
as my people would say, replied McKenny, you could effing
retire off a handful of these rocks. Well, if they're
real diamonds, countered Gregel. But if they're just quartz, you're
just adding significant weight to your packs and we still
have a long way to go. I'm not going to
notice a few pounds, said McKenny, stuffing several large pieces
into his pack. Everyone on the team was doing the same,
finding large chunks and slipping them into their rucksacks. Gregel frowned,
but he didn't stop them. Do you really think it's
bad juju? Asked Ruez. I do, said Gregel. I can't
say why. It just feels wrong. Ruez seemed to consider
it for a moment. Are you going to listen to
his mumbo jumbo crap? Asked McKenny. You could have enough
money to put your great kids through college with half
of what I've gotten my pack. Ruez frowned and selected
several large stones, and he started placing them in his pack. Sorry, top,
said Ruiz. I don't want to raise my kids in
the same crappy Southeast La neighborhood. I grew up in.
My girl's pregnant back home, and I want to get
us a nice house away from all the gangs and drugs.
I get it, said Gregel. I totally understand. Do what
you feel is best for you, Ruiz. Just remember, once
you get it back to the FOB, you still got
to figure out how to get it back to the States.
The Army isn't exactly happy about you collecting souvenirs, especially
valuable ones. We're allowed to die here, but we're not
allowed to profit from it. I've got that covered, said McKinney.
I'm in a relationship with a specialist in supply. She'll
help us get it all back. Hell, she probably won't
even want to cut the action. Now, why would she
do thats, Gregel. She could get in a lot of
trouble if she gets caught. Well, she's kind of under
the impression we're getting married when we get back to
the world, said McKenny. And how did she get that impression,
asked Gregel, shaking his head. Let me guess you led
her to believe that that was going to happen. Well,
I kind of ask her, said McKenny. Grinny, but it
was the only way to get her in bed. She
wasn't going to give it up otherwise. Gregel scowled and
shook his head. That's not right, mumbles, he said. You
shouldn't treat people like that. Come on top, she's a
desert queen. Here she's like a nine, but back in
the world she's a three at best. You can bet
your butt a minute we hit the world, she's pregnant
and a spandex wearing dependopotamus, ruining my life. One Kuntanka
will not look favorably on you, mumbles, muttered Gregel, turning
back to the trail. Well, it's a good thing I'm
a Baptist, then replied McKenny. That drew a few chuckles.
Mcgregel just ignored them and motioned for them to move out.
Ruck up and get your heads out of your fourth
point of contact, edmondish Gregel. We're still in enemy territory.
We need to move quietly and keep your voices down.
Moving forward, Gregel set the pace as quickly as he
could while maintaining a safe footing in the broken terrain.
The team was quietly doing their jobs, moving cautiously while
constantly sweeping for signs of threats. Contact hissed Gregel, going
to one knee behind a rock while motioning for the
team to take cover. Bringing up his weapon, he began
scanning the area where he'd seen movement. Ruez brought up
his rifle and joined Gregel, searching for any sign of insurgents.
What'd you see, top, asked McKenny. It's just a flash
of movement, replied Gregel. But it was moving fast. Got
a glimpse of it in coming, shout at Ruez, pointing.
Gregel turned and saw a massive rock about the size
of a basketball, arching through the air and heading right
for them. Take cover, roared Gregel, scrambling out of the
way of the heavy projectile. They all dove behind boulders.
The rock slammed into the boulder where McKinny had just
been standing moments before, and exploded into razor sharp shrapnel.
Shards went flying in every direction, and they could hear
them impacting with the surrounding boulders. Does anyone hurt, snapped Gregel.
One by one they all checked in. No one had
been hit by the flying slivers of rock. What in
the hell was that, roared McKenny. I think it was
one of those things that carried off that dead sniper,
said Ruis. I saw a big, hairy arm extend over
that boulder about one hundred meters up that side of
the ravine. Find that sum of a bitch and smoke
his ass, shouted McKenny. Ruez looked at Gregel for confirmation.
See if you can get a shot, affirmed Gregel. I'm
going to see if I can get a shot too.
Ruez aimed in the direction where the rock had been
thrown incoming roared Fujikawa, it's behind us. Gregel spun around
in time to see a rock about the diameter of
a bowling ball slam into mckenny's leg when he tried
to dive out of the way. McKenny screamed in pain,
and they heard the cracking of bone. It was obvious
that the leg was broken. McKenny went down, hitting the
ground and striking his face on the side of the
boulder and knocked him unconscious, and they could see blood
seeping out onto the ground around his head. Knuckles roared Gregel.
Get to McKenny on that top, replied Montenegro, making his
way to the fallen ranger. Montenegro kept a wary eye
on the mountain above them. Ruez, watch that side, ordered Gregel.
I'll cover this side. Everyone else watch for movement. Weapons
were brought up and people began sweeping the rocks above
them for signs of movement. Top shouted Montenegro. Mckinnie's gonna
need a dust off. He's hurt bad. Can you stabilize him,
asked Gregel, without taking his eyes off the spot where
the rock had been thrown. I put a tourniquet on
the leg, said Montenegro. He's got compound fractures of the
left tib and FIBB. He's also got a nasty cut
on his forehead and he could have a concussion. He's
out cold, but his pupils are screwed up. He needs
a doctor, not a medic. There's no way we can
get a chopper in here to extract him, said Gregel.
We're in the middle of nowhere. Do your best to
get him patched up. We're going to have to move
if we want to get him to an extraction point.
Where's the closest possible spot, asked Montenegro. I'll check my
map in a sec said Gregel. We can't stay here.
Those things are just going to keep pelting us with
the rocks unless we get out of range. Boom, Ruez's
rifle thundered out and echoed around the pass. I got him,
hissed Ruez. I didn't hear you pray, replied Gregel. I
only pray before I shoot men, replied Ruez. That thing
ain't no man. That face is going to give me nightmares.
Did you kill it, asked Montenegro. Well, if I didn't,
it's having a really bad day, replied Ruez. I shot
it in the left eye, and I saw a bone
and blood fly. If that didn't kill it, I don't
know what will. Above them, they heard the shrieking roar
that echoed off into the distance. It sounded part gorilla
and part lion, and it lasted far longer than expected.
Whatever made the call had massive lung capacity. What the
hell was that, hissed Fujikawa. I don't know, said Ruez,
but I see several of those things moving off into
the deeper parts of the mountains. I think we scare
them off. I don't think so, whispered Gregel. They'll be back.
I sure hope not, said Ruez. I saw at least
six of those things. They were moving way too fast
for me to get a shot on one knuckles, said Gregel.
Get mckennie ready to move. We got to get out
of here before the sun goes down. Montenegro nodded and
went to work on McKenny. He pulled out a pressure
bandage and poured a little water on it and covered
the exposed bone. Next, he started a pair of ivs,
one with an antibiotic drip and the other a unit
of the FDP or freeze dried plasma. He carried it
in its kit. He rolled up his poncho and put
it beneath mckinnie's head to keep it elevated and cleaning
the head wound. He put a bandage over it and
then wrapped it with several layers of galls. Checking his
he made sure McKinney's breathing was unobstructed. That's the best
I can do in the field top, said Montenegro. We've
got to get him to a field hospital as fast
as we can. I don't have a clue how bad
that head wound is or if there's trauma to the brain.
He's not in good shape. Thanks Knuckles, said Gregel. Get
him ready to move and watch him. We're going to
get him out of here. Gregel removed a folded map
from one of the pouches on his vest and began
studying it. Taking out his compass, he began looking around
the area and consulting the readings. After a moment, he
looked up. The closest place where we can get a
chopper in is a village about four clicks away, he said,
glancing at his compass. We'll have to take a different
part of the pass. What's the problem, asked Rues. It's
away from our rendezvous point, said Gregel. We need to
advise command, said Montenegro. Maybe get us some help in here.
I'll try, said Gregel. Reaching for his radio, he checked
to make sure the unit was functioning before activating the
mic ghost answer to Jackal, he said, releasing the mic
static hissed back to him and he got a barely
readable reply. It was crackling, but he could understand the words.
This is Jackal said the voice. Send it over. We
have a man down, said Gregel. Broken leg and possible concussion.
Requesting nearest extraction point for medevac over copy ghosts Ancer,
said Jackal. What is your current position over? We're ten
clicks north by northeast of the assigned rendezvous point, said Gregel.
In the pass over, that's no good for extraction, said Jackal.
There's no way to get a bird in there to
get you out. Can you move him over? Affirmative, replied Gregel.
We're preparing to move him now over solid copy ghost
Dancer said Jackal. Nearest extraction point is the village of
Why not be advised You are to proceed with caution.
Status of the village is unknown at this time. Say again,
status of the village is unknown at this time. Over
copy Jackal said Gregel. Consider us advice. We're moving out
in two mikes over understood, ghost dancer said Jackal. How
did your man get hurt? Over. He was hit by
a large rock in a boulder field, said Gregel, not
wanting to explain further on the radio. Have you engaged hostiles,
asked Jackal. Over affirmative, said Gregel. We engage one tango
and have one confirmed kill. Over Copy that, ghost dancer,
said Jackal. Looking forward to reading your report. We'll advise
Base to send an extraction chopper for your wounded. What's
your estimated ETA over It's four clicks away, said Gregel.
Two hours possibly more over understood, said Jackal. Try to
keep us updated. Radio contact might be impossible when you
get closer to the village. Over copy that, said Gregel.
Ghost answer out solid copy, ghost answer, said Jackal. Good
luck Jackal out damn muttered grew as if we get
caught in these mountains after dark, then we'arin a lot
o trouble, finished Gregel. We need to get moving. Montenegro
had assembled the emergency stretcher and Fujikawa helped him move
mc kenny on to it. They tied him to the
stretcher and did their best to immobilize his leg. Replacing
the poncho, he elevated mc kinny's head again, and then
he rechecked the airway. Keep him doped up, said Gregel.
If he wakes up, that leg's going to be excruciating
with every step we take. I did top, said Montenegro.
He's feeling no pain. He's got a boatload of special
ka on board. I should have enough to keep him
out until we reach the village. Good, said Gregel. Let's
get moving. Daylight is dwindling fast, and we don't want
to be in this past when it's gone. They spent
the next two hours moving as quickly as they safely could.
Gregel was watching the shadows grow steadily longer, even though
it was only sixteen hundred hours. The sun was dipping
behind the mountains and plunging the pass into darkness. Above them,
they could hear movement in the rocks. Although they couldn't
see them, they knew it had to be the creatures
getting bolder now that it was nearly dark. Gregel glanced
to his left and caught a glimpse of a dark,
hairy head duck behind a large boulder top, said Ruez
concerning his voice. I see it, said Gregel. Keep moving.
We're almost to the village. If we took a wrong turn,
said Fujikawa, we could be lost in these god forsaken
mountains for it. We didn't take a wrong turn, assured Gregel.
We're going the right way. Oh hell, moaned McKenny. What
the hell happened to me? Stay calm, McKenny, said Gregel.
You're almost out of here. Knuckles keep him quiet. Ruez
took the handles of the stretcher from Montenegro as he
put another dose of ketamine into mckenny's IV. That should
do it, said Montenegro. H moan McKenny, trailing off and
passing back out. He's feeling no pain, said Fujikawa. He's
the lucky one, said Gregel. If we don't reach the
village before night falls, he won't be awake when those
things come for us. As they began to round a
bend in the trail, Gregel caught a glimpse of a
man made structure. They had reached the village. There was
a crude wall around the entire settlement, made of odd
bits of junk and tires and dirt and large rocks
and anything else they could find. A bill with a
crude wall was close to ten feet tall. There was
a rough gate that faced this part of the trail,
and there was no other way to enter the village
from this side without climbing the sheer mountain sides that
surrounded them. As they grew closer, they could see that
one of the gates was off its hinges and hung
loosely in the door frame. There was no noise coming
from the small village. This is not a good sign,
said Bronson. I thought this place was inhabited. It looks
like it's deserted to me too, said Fujikawa. Grego brought
his rifle up and scanned the wall and the gate.
There was no sign of movement, and it looked like
it had been quite a while since anyone had been there.
What do you think happened to the village, asked Montenegro.
I don't know, replied Gregle, but I wouldn't rule out
the creatures that are following us. So what now, asked Fujikawa.
Get inside and find shelter, said Gregel. I'm going to
try to make radio contact and advise Jackal that we're
on station and ready for extraction. You heard the man,
said Ruiz. Let's get inside and get some cover. It's
almost dark. They moved cautiously toward the gate and still
saw no signs of movement. Gregel slipped through the gate
and looked the small village over. It consisted of about
twenty huts and one larger building made of brick and mud,
and it looked like the central meeting hall, which likely
also served for calls to prayer. On the roof was
a small minaret with a bell where the calls to
prayer were made. Head for the big building, said Gregel.
Looks like the most solid and defensible on it. Top
said Ruez. Where is everyone? Asked Mantenegro. Gregel didn't answer. Instead,
he pointed at the dried blood and abandoned AK forty
sevens that were laying near the entrances of some of
the huts. There were no signs of bodies uh top,
called Ruez. I just saw a face and the little
bell tower thing it's called a minaret, said Gregel. Whatever
said Ruez, I saw a movement. Was it one of
the creatures, asked Gregel, bringing up his rifle. No, replied Ruez.
It was a human looked like a kid around fifteen
or so. Top. The big building is still secure, said Fujikawa.
It's the only one that is. I think there might
be survivors in there, all right, said Gregel. It's time
to make nice with the locals. We need to get
inside that building in fast. Why don't speak farsier Pashtu,
said Fujikawa. Any chance they speak English, you're Japanese. It's doubtful,
said Gregel. I speak a little Pashtu. Hope I can
make myself understood. Moving closer to the door, Gregel could
hear a voice from in side. Sounded like a younger male,
likely the same one that Ruez had seen on the
minor route. Gregel was relieved to hear him speaking Poshtu.
Go away, said the voice. We seek the hospitality of
the village, said Gregel, switching to Poshtu. What did you
just say, asked Ruiz Well. I either asked for sanctuary
or I propositioned a mother, said Gregel. We'll find out which.
In a moment. After a long pause, they heard a
large wooden beam being removed from the door. Slowly opened,
they were greeted by an elderly man, likely one of
the village leaders, who asked for our hospitality, said the
man in Poshtu. We do, said Gregel. We're with the
United States Army. We need shelter and hospitality. I have
a wounded man. Reaching slowly to his vest, he released
the grimlock clip that held his bayonet to his presenting
it to the older man. He held it out as
an offering offer, a gift to show our respect and
good intent, said Gregel slowly and postu The old man
met his gaze, surprised that an outsider would know the
rules of hospitality, especially an American. Taking the gift, he
nodded and gestured for them to come inside. Quickly, said
the old man, the night is coming. Gregel motioned for
the team inside and watched their backs until they were
all safely in, and only then did he walk backward
through the door. Beyond the wall, he could hear movement
and grunting calls going back and forth between the creatures.
Once he was inside, the door was immediately shut and
a large wooden crossbar was dropped into place. The doors
were thick and reinforced with metal bands that had been
nailed to the door with crude square nails about the
size of a dime. Turning a Gregel saw that there
were six people in the room, two children, three women,
and the old man. They had closed off the windows
and nailed them all shut, preventing anything from getting in.
The three women had AK forty sevens in their hands,
but they were not pointing them at anyone. They gently
placed the stretcher on the ground. McKinney didn't stir, but
they could see sweat was beated upon his forehead. Montenegro
crouched beside him and began checking his vitals in an airway.
How is he, asked Gregel. He's got a fever, said Montenegro.
He's not responding to the antibiotics. We need to get
him out of here. I'm on it, said Gregel, reaching
for his radio. Why don't you guys break out some
MRIs and see if our hosts are hungry. I don't
see any food here. That's a great idea, top, said Ruiz.
While the team began distributing food and bottles of water,
Gregel stepped away from them and checked his radio. It
was still showing power and wasn't damaged. Ghost answer to Jackal,
he said, do you copy over? Static filled the speaker
for a moment and then cleared up. Read you, ghost dancer,
said Jackal, his voice sounding tiny and distant. Send it over.
We've reached the extraction point, said Gregel. We're in the
main building of the village. Over, can you hold that position,
asked Jackal over affirmative, he replied, what's the eta on
our metavac Over? It's not coming, ghost Dancer, said Jackal,
at least not until the dust storm clears. It blew
in out of nowhere about an hour ago. All birds
in our area of operation are grounded. You're on your
own until the morning. What's your status, over, Gregel grimaced.
He knew that McKinney needed a doctor and the delay
mic kill him before morning. We can hold, said Gregel.
My wounded man's condition is deteriorating. We need a matavac over, understood,
Ghost Dancer, said Jackal. There is no chance of us
getting one to you until morning. The weather geeks at
the fob are saying this storm won't clear before zero
six hundred hours. Over. We'll do our best, said Gregel.
Any other good news over. The last bit had been
pure sarcasm, and he regretted saying it as soon as
it left his mouth. Jackal was Captain Devin Mackie, and
he didn't have much of a sense of humor. That's
a negative, Ghost Dancer, said Jackal. The pattern is full over.
Gregel stifled a laugh at the unexpected joke from Captain Mackie.
Copy that said Gregel, We'll hold until you can buzz
the tower over. Copy that said Jackal, hold tight. We'll
get there as fast as we can. I'm sorry, will
it's a shit show with a storm. I don't like
leaving you out there with the wounded. We'll manage, sir,
said Gregel. We'll hold ghost answer out. Turning back to
the others, Gregel frowned. We're on our own until the morning,
said Gregel. There's a dust storm near the fob and
they can't get the choppers to us. Can you keep
McKinnie stable for that long? I think so, top, said Montenegro.
I'm going to use every bit of medical supplies I
have doing it, so none of you better get hurt.
Montenegro turned and started cleaning and replacing the dressing on
mckenny's leg and head. Gregel watched him for a moment
before turning and heading for the old man. He began
speaking to him slowly, unsure if he would have the
fluency and poshtu to say everything he needed to say.
My name is William Gregel, he began, we're us army.
Thank you for extending your hospitality to us. The man
nodded gravely and motioned for Gregel to take a seat
beside him on the floor. Gregel did as he was Beckon,
and he joined him. I am Iban alhamad Allah, he said.
I am the last of the surviving elders of the
mallah for this village. What happened here, asked Gregel. A
week ago there was the terrible shaking of the mountains,
said Aban. A rock slide blocked part of the pass well.
I saw the rock slide, said Gregel. That's where my
man was injured. When the rock slide happened, explained Abon,
it opened several large caves high up on the mountain,
and from those caves emerged the BARMANO. What's a barmano,
asked Gregel. Creatures that I have not seen in this
area since I was a young man, said Aban. He
then began describing the same creatures that they had seen
in the past. They were similar to the creatures that
Gregel knew as Chaya Tunka or Bigfoot, but they differed
in size and temperament. They were also alleged to have
mystical powers. When the old man finished speaking, Gregel nodded.
Thank you for sharing your wisdom, Mala, said Gregel respectfully.
How do we stop the Barmano? Your guns will be
of no use to you, said Aban, just as they
were of no use to the men of our village.
By the time I realized what we were facing, the
damage had been done. I took what people I could
save and sealed ourselves inside this building. You did the
right thing, said Gregel. But why haven't you tried walking
out of here when the sun is up. You're not
safe even with the sun up, said Aban. It is
less safe at night, but they're always dangerous. Besides, there's
nowhere we can walk that would not take us a
week to reach on foot. The Barmano killed all our lives.
Stock I'm an old man, I could not make the walk. Well,
why did the Barmano attack you, asked Gregel. Because they
eat man flesh, explained Abon. But their wrath was brought
down on this village by the greed of two of
our young men. The rock slide unearthed large quantities of
brown diamonds. Any One who takes them from the mountains
will reap the vengeance of the Barmano. Gregel closed his
eyes for a moment, remembering that it was mc kenny
who had found the diamonds and insisted that they take them.
It had also been mc kinny who was struck first.
He didn't tell Abon about the gems his men were carrying.
It would likely get them thrown out of the building.
If our guns won't work against them, said Gregel, then
how do we fight them. Only a blade blessed by
a mullah of pure faith will hurt them, said Aban.
And it must be wielded by a warrior of virtue.
I don't know how virtuous I am, but I have
a blade, said Gregel, and he drew his bowie style
brock blades our dens. The old man took Gregel by
the hand and held it between both of his and
then looked him in the eyes. He held the gaze
for a long moment. Gregel felt Aban was gazing into
his soul. After a long moment, he broke the gaze.
My faith is pure, said Aban, and I can sense
you are a warrior of strong faith and virtue. I
will consecrate your blade, but know this before you face
the Barmano. You must return all of the diamonds your
men are carrying. How did you know, asked Gregel. I
can sense the power of the gem, said Aban. The
Barmano are drawn to them like a moth to a flame.
Only after their stain is removed from this holy place,
can I consecrate your blade. I'll take them up to
the minaret and toss them out, said Gregel. Good, said Aban,
I will perform the cleansing of the blade and begin
the purification preser. He took the blade from Gregel and
examined it closely. This is a well crafted blade, said Abon.
It will serve you well. You gather the gems while
I prepare myself for the blessing. Gregel removed his back
up blade, called a street weasel and crafted by Brock Blades,
and set it on the floor. Then he removed his
winkler knives say out Tomahawk, and placed it beside the knives.
Nodding to Avon, he returned to his men in motioned
for them to gather around. I need all of the
gems you gathered, he said. Why is that top, asked Ruiz.
The Malla tells me that they're sacred to these creatures,
said Gregel. The reason they're following us is that they
want them back. No offense, top, said Garrison. But how
the heck would they even know? Besides that, said McMasters,
We're safe in here, well extract in the morning, Why
bab we can hold this place? Did you not notice
the buildings in this village? Asked Gregel. The villagers took
some of the gems, and the creatures came to get
them back. That's when they wiped out most of the village.
Top's right, said Ruez. I felt like taking them was
wrong in the first place. Look man, said McMasters. Those
gems could set us all up for life. You really
want to give that up for some bedtime story the
locals tell to scare their kids. As soon as McMasters
finished speaking, something slammed into the door with tremendous force.
The wood creaked and dust fell from the roof. Everyone
turned to face the door. Then there was another powerful
hit on the door, and this time it rattled. They
heard the crossbar crack. They're going to come through that door,
whispered Ruez. It's not gonna hold forever. We've got nowhere
to run, said Gregel. We either keep them out of
here or we all die. Do you really believe that
they're after those gems? Asked McMasters, looking at Gregel. Do
you have a better explanation, replied Gregel. If they don't
want the gems, you can pick them up when we
go outside in the morning, and if they want them,
maybe they'll leave. Well, what do we have to lose,
asked Ruez. If it works, we might just make it
out of this place alive. If they ignore the gems,
then our situation isn't changed. It's worth a shot. Lamla
says that our guns won't stop them, said Gregel. I
don't know if that's true or not, but I saw
a lot of aks out there with blood around them.
I didn't see any bodies, human or otherwise. I think
that's good enough reason to believe them. What about the
one I hit in the head, asked Ruez. Maybe at drop,
said Gregel. Maybe it healed. I don't know. We couldn't
confirm the kill. We have no idea if it died
or not. Another beast slammed into the wall near the
small window. Dust fell and the children started crying. The
woman tried to comfort the children, but another impact struck
the back door, shaking the floor beneath their feet. The
door held, but they could see small cracks forming in
the mortar around the doorframe. Decide now, said Gregel. Is
it worth trying. They'll be inside and a few more hits.
Even if it just slows them down, It's worth trying.
After exchanging glances, they all began gathering up the gems
they'd stuffed into their packs, and they placed them in
a pile on the floor. Ruez gathered the ones that
McKinny had in his pack and added them to the pile.
Is that all of them? Asked Gregel. McMasters grimaced and
took another one out of his pocket. That's all I swear,
he said, in a guilty tone. So much for early retirement,
said Fujikawa, tossing another piece onto the pile. Gregel glanced
around and found no other holdouts. Then he placed all
the gems in a cloth. All right, he said, I'll
take them up to the minaret and toss them out.
Get your gear and cover the doors, just in case
if those things get inside. We have to protect the civilians.
Avon set out his prayer, rug careful that he was
facing Mecca while he was making his preparations, Gregel found
a small staircase that led to the minaret. There was
a thick board sealing off the axis, which had been
bolted in place with two long wooden cross pieces. Gregel
listened to make certain that there was nothing on the
other side, and when he was sure it was clear,
he removed the cross pieces as quietly as he could.
Lifting the board, he climbed out to the minaret, careful
to avoid hitting the bell. There was a radiant orange
glow over the mountains to the west. Beyond those peaks,
it would still be daylight for another few hours, but
here in the past it was deep twilight, with deep
shadows cloaking nearly everything. In the shadows, he could see
subtle movements as the creatures carefully moved around the building
looking for weak points. Gregel took the bag and tossed
it out toward the front of the building. In the darkness,
he could hear several creatures moving toward him. Ducking back inside,
he locked the door back in place, just as large
rocks began raining down on the spot where he had
just been. That was close, he thought, as he locked
the crossbar back into place. Gregel walked back down the
stairs and stopped when he saw a large piece of
metal near the back of the room. It was a
chunk of aircraft fuselages that had been salvaged from a crash.
As he inspected it closer, it had Soviet markings on
the back. It had to be a piece of an
old MiG jet that had been shot down during the
Russian invasion of Afghanistan. I used this, asked Gregel, nodding
at the others, of course, said Aban, If it will
help us survive, feel free to use anything we have.
Gregel checked the small toolbox on the shelf and found
exactly what he was looking for. Grabbing a set of
metal shears, he began cutting shapes out of the piece
of aircraft aluminum. It only took him a few minutes
to cut out a dozen small pieces of sharp metal
that came to a point, and taking them over to Abon,
he placed them with the other weapons. Can you bless
these as well, asked Gregel. Of course, said Aban, What
are they for? They're arrowheads? Said Gregel. I need to
find a few other things so I can make arrows.
Ruz helped Gregel search after he quickly explain what he wanted.
They made arrow shafts from numerous wooden dows that they
were using to make cages for their chickens. Gregel showed
Ruz how long they needed to be, and then went
back to work finding something suitable to use as fletching.
He smiled when he saw the empty mre containers, taking
them and spreading them out on the floor. He slit
the bags open and then used the shears to cut
the shapes he needed. By the time he finished, Abon
had finished blessing the weapons. Gregel took the blades and
returned them to their sheaves. Then he took the arrowheads
and laid them on the floor beside the fletching material.
Using the edge of his ard end's knife, he began
carefully splitting the ends of the dowels. Once they were ready,
he slipped an arrowhead in one end and the fletching
material in the other. He found a piece of crude
leather that had been used for padding on a chair,
and he pulled it free and cutting small strips from
the leather, he placed them into an mr bag and
poured water on them. After the leather had soaked up
up the water, he began tying them around the cut
ends of the dials, securing the fletching and arrows. When
the leather dried, it would shrink and make it almost
impossible to remove the material. Once the arrows were drying,
he began looking for something to build a bow out of.
He found several pieces of slender ash used to build
a shelf, and he took it apart and he picked
a piece that was about the right length and then
tested it for its elasticity. It still had plenty of flexibility,
so he began using the tomahawk to cut to the
right length and remove the bark. After a while, he
had the wood cut to the desired length and shape,
and while it wasn't ideal, it was good enough to
do the job. Using a piece of parachord from his pack,
he cut the new string to the proper length and
then fashioned the ends into loops. Hooking one loop over
the bottom of the bow, He stepped around the bow
and used his legs as a fulcrumb to bend it.
He held his breath in anticipation, but the wood didn't break.
With a smile, he flexed the wood even farther and
hooked the loop of the bow string over the end
of the bow. Releasing the tension. The bowstring went taut
and held in place. Pulling the string back, he heard
the wood creek, but it didn't break or crack, and
the pull on the bow was easily eighty pounds. Ruez
handed him a quiver for the arrows, crudely made from
the sleeve that his sniper rifle was carried in and
more paracord. It was hooked together with several grimlock connectors
and more para cord here top, said Ruiz, this is
for your arrows. What are you planning to do? The
only thing that makes sense, said Gregel. I'm going to
go hunting before they decide they're coming in here with us.
It's only nineteen hundred and thirty hours. We have a
long way to go before morning. Well where are you going,
asked Ruez. I'll coverage you. I need to find a
couple more things, said greg O, grinning. He stripped off
his combat gear, taking everything off down to the waist.
Then he gathered ash and soot from the firepit. Once
that was done, he used a brick, dust and clay
from the walls to begin mixing two types of paint
one black and one like gray. When they were mixed,
he began applying them to his face and chest. He
applied the lighter material as a base, and then again,
making dark shapes with the black paint, and soon he
stood before them covered in the war paint of his
Lakota heritage. He used the images his grandfather Jametuska had
taught him as a guide. While the paint would help
break up his form in the darkness outside, it also
served another purpose. If he was going in the war
against these creatures, he was going as a dog soldier
of his people. He was calling on the spirits of
the Hotel Mataneo. Softly, he began singing in Lakota. He
was asking his ancestors for their strength and guidance. He
was asking them to guide his course and give him
the power of the dog soldiers so that he might
defeat this creature called the Barmanaux. Somewhere in the darkness,
the spirits heard his call, and he felt something stirring
inside him. He felt the spirit of the wolf calling
to him. He felt the power in his veins. The
dog soldiers had heard his call. As he gathered his weapons,
he continued to let the chant flow through and over him,
and he knew the only chance he had against the
creatures was to use the old magic that his grandfather
had assured him was part of everything. The strength he
felt allowed him to sense things beyond his normal abilities,
and he knew that the creatures were coming. Get away
from the windows, he said forcefully. Everyone started to move
when the boards over one window exploded inward. Before they
could react, Sergeant Johnson was grabbed by the head and
dragged back through the window. They heard his screams cut
violently short with the cracking of bone. You sons of bitches,
roared McMasters. His saw opened fire and began chattering its
death song as he poured rounds through the open window.
A few of the creatures shrieked in pain, but none
of them fell. Get the women and children away from
the windows, roared Gray Eagle. Another window exploded inward, and
a creature grabbed one of the women by the arm.
Bronson drove his bayonet into the beast's bicep and it roared.
Released the woman, and Bronson shoved her away from the window.
As another creature reached through and dragged him through the gap.
His screams were quickly silenced. Is there a back room,
Gregel yelled to Abon. There is a small cellar, he replied,
get them in there and lock it, said Gregel, Everyone
get into the cellar and hold it. I'll do what
I can from out here. Abon opened the door that
led to the cellar, where they stored food and other
items that needed to be kept cool. Everyone began rushing inside.
Ruez and Montenegro began moving McKinny toward the small opening
that led into the cellar. The front door exploded inward,
and before the creatures could come pouring inside, McMasters and
Garrison opened fire with both saws, raining fire and death
through the open door. They maintained their volume of fire
as the others carried McKinney into the cellar. The Fujikawa
turned to yell at them to fall back and was
grabbed through an open window. He tried to fight back,
but the creature tore his head off instead of dragging
him through the window. Fuji's down, screamed Garrison. Get in
the cellar, screamed Gregel. McMaster's saw fell silent as the
belt ran out. Before he could fall back, one of
the creatures rushed through the gunfire from Garrison and grabbed
McMasters by the arm. It bit down on his fore
arm and easily bit through the bones, severing the arm
just below the elbow. Take this, screamed Garrison, firing point
blank into the creature. It released its hold on McMaster's
and turned toward Garrison. Before it could attack him, an
arrow streaked across the room and buried deeply into the
beast's left ear. It fell to the ground instantly, and
its eyes rolled back into its skull. Getmasters to the cellar,
roared gray Eagle. Garrison saw went silent as the last
of his AMMO was expended, and he dropped the empty
weapon and grabbed McMaster, shoving him into the opening to
the cellar. Get the hell inside, roared Garrison. McMasters was
in shock, but managed to get to the cellar, falling
most of the way. Garrison turned to knot at Gregel
and was dragged backward out of the door. Before he
could react, Gregel rushed to go after him, yanking the
arrow from the head of the beast as he ran past.
Rushing through the door, he yelled a la Coat of
battle cry, and through his Saiak tomahawk, it struck one
of the beasts in the forehead and buried into the
cross piece. The beast released its hold on Garrison and
Gregel yanked him away, shoving him back into the building.
He didn't have time to see if he made it.
He had to move quickly before the creature swarmed him.
Snatching up the tomahawk, he ran across a narrow alleyway
and dove into a dark hut that had partially collapsed.
He prayed that the others had made it into the
cellar and were sealing it. It was now his job
to get the attention of the creatures away from the
building and to focus on him. He knocked an arrow
and ready the bow, and he waited, and when one
of the creatures headed for the building, Gregel let the
arrow fly in It streaked across the distance, punching through
the monster's spine and into his heart. The creature staggered
a few steps before collapsing to the ground. The other
creature began looking for the source of the attack. Gregel
took that as a queue to move and headed out
the back of the hut, using the back entrance. Using
the shadows, he ran to the edge of the village
and hid behind a large boulder. He studied the darkness,
searching for signs of movement. It suddenly occurred to him
that he had no idea how many of the creatures
were out there in the darkness. He could only hope
that he could pick off enough of them to make
them reconsider the attack on the village. Otherwise he'd be
fighting a gorilla fight against the creatures until morning arrived
and their relief came for them. Making a quick mental inventory,
he knew that he would have to recover as many
arrows as he could if this was going to work.
A dozen arrows, two knives, and a tomahawk were not
going to win this bitle. He had to fight smarter
and faster than ever before, otherwise these creatures would tear
them apart, just like they had done to Johnson, Fujikawa,
and Bronson. The thought of his men being torn apart
made him angry, and he felt the spirit of the
wolf howling inside him. It was time to take vengeance
upon these creatures and make them rude. The day they crossed,
a La Cota dog soldier in the darkness near the
side of the small hut just vacated a shadow was
moving quietly along the outer wall. It was too big
to be a human, so it had to be one
of the barmano. As his vision adjusted to the darkness,
he could see the beast. It was sniffing the air
along the side of the hut, searching for his scent. Carefully,
he drew the bow and readied an arrow, and as
the beast came within fifty feet, he let the arrow fly.
It buried deep into the monstrous throat. It fell, gurgling
to the ground. It feebly attempted to move, but the
sharp piece of alumin had severed its spinal cord. It
could only lay there in wheeze as it slowly die.
No sooner had the beast fallen than Gregel was on
the move again. He was down two arrows and knew
he'd have to collect them soon, But now he had
to get away from the area. The twang of his
bowstring would undoubtedly draw the beast to him, so he
duck low, and he crouched and hid beneath the toppled
wall of another hut. He blended into the deep shadows,
looking just like another chunk of debris. One of the
beasts crept along the back of the hut, sniffing the
air and looking around. It could smell him, but it
couldn't find him. Gregiel slipped the bow over his shoulder
and drew the ard end's blade, Waiting for the right moment.
He held his breath as the creature moved closer. When
it was less than ten feet away, he let out
an undulating war cry, and he dove forward, But before
the creature could react, he rolled between its legs and
slashed out with the blade. The creature saw the blur
move beneath it and tried to catch it, and then
it felt something tug at its leg. Reaching down, he
felt the spot and brought back its hand, wet with blood.
It stared in confusion for a moment, uncomprehending the fact
that it was already dead and didn't know it. Gregel
had severed the femoral artery in the leg and rolled
away into the darkness. Gregel didn't look back as he ran,
and he dove through the broken window of another hut.
Hiding in the darkness behind him, the beast fell to
its knees, still confused about what had happened, as it
fell onto its face and died, holding his position in
the dark hut, Gregel readied the bow and knocked an arrow.
He waited patiently until another creature arrived to check on
its fallen comrade. When it leaned over the fallen beast,
Gregel let the arrow fly It streaked across the distance.
The creature was alerted by the sound and turned to
look just as the arrow buried itself through the bridge
of its nose and sank to the back of its skull.
Nine arrows left, thought greg Eagle as he slept out
the back of the hut and moved aside, silent as
a mouse, to his next hiding point. Sliding past a
large boulder, he stopped short when the hairs on the
back of his neck stood up. He felt the flash
of warning pass through him, and he knew there was danger.
Movement caught his eye and he slid to the side
just as a snake struck at him. He was able
to avoid the strike and then pin the snake's head
down with the end of his bow. Grabbing the snake
behind the head, he picked it up. Even in the darkness.
He identified the snake from the briefings they'd received on
which a wildlife to avoid it was a common crate snake.
It was aggressive and venomous, and responsible for numerous deaths
in Afghanistan every year. Smiling, he tightened his grip on
the snake and slid behind the boulder. He slapped his
hand on the boulder to make some noise, and he
crouched low and waited. After a moment, he heard the
stealthy approach of one of the creatures coming to investigate
the slap, and when it leaned over the boulder, Gregel
jammed the snake into the beast's left eye and released
his grip. The snake sank its fangs into the beast,
shrieking in pain. The beast stumbled back and was trying
to get a grip on the squirming serpent that was
now a lats firmly to the soft tissue of his eye.
The venom was already injecting almost directly into its brain,
and the snake continued to pump more into it as
it was being struck by the beast. Gregel raced off
into the darkness, moving past the last creature he had killed.
He snatched up the arrow and slid back behind a
collapsed wall of the hut. There was just enough light
for him to see the creature beginning to sway as
the powerful venom flooded into its bloodstream, and seconds later
it toppled over and fell flat on its back, dying
in the dust. That the snake finally released the bite
and slithered off into the night. Hiding in the darkness,
he held his breath as two more of the creatures
walked right past him. One of the beasts had a
crude bag over its shoulder. It was similar to the
bags made by Gregel's people for carrying tools or food.
For a moment, he wondered what was inside the pouch,
and then an old custom of his people came to mind.
Sneaking out from his hiding spot, he slipped up behind
the creatures and carefully slit the strap. Slowly, he slipped
it away from the creature and backed away, and then
crept into the open doorway of a hut. He had
just successfully counted coup on the beast. He considered looking
in the bag, but thought better of it. It didn't
matter what it was in it. It only mattered that
he'd taken it without being caught. He felt like screaming
out his victory, but thought better of it. Any cry
would draw them right back to him, so instead he
picked up a small rock and threw it off into
the darkness, and when it struck a boulder, the two
creatures split up and headed for the sound. Gregel knocked
an arrow and prepared to release it, but movement from
the corner of his eye alerted him to an attack,
and he jumped away from the powerful swing of the
beast that had crept into the hut with him. Dropping
the bow, he pulled the art ends blade and ready
for a fight. The beast snarled and reached for him.
Gregel dove to the side and then grabbed the beast's
arm and vaulted over it. As he did, he slit
the brachial artery in the beast's upper arm and then
rolled on to its back. As the creature reached for him,
he sliced the razor sharp blade across the jugular vein
in its neck and then leapt away, staggering. Now, the
beast turned toward him, confusion on its ape like face,
and then it fell to it its knees and pitched
forward into the dirt and twitched as the last of
its blood poured out onto the ground. Snatching up his bow,
he brought the arrow back up and aimed, and he
let the shaft go, and it streaked through the darkness,
striking the beasts at the base of the skull and
sliced through the vertebra and spinal cord. The beast fell
like a marionette without strings. Slinging the bow over his shoulder,
he raced off into the darkness and slid behind an
overturned ox cart. And he waited for a moment and
forced himself to slow his breathing. After a few seconds,
as heart rate came back down and he listened to
the night sounds around him, he could hear several creatures
moving through the small village searching for him. He'd already
lost count of the number of creatures he'd killed, but
he didn't put much thought into that. He could count
bodies later. There were plenty of enemies left, and counting
meant nothing if you didn't win in the end, and
Greygill planned on winning. Keep it together, he thought, this
is a marathon, not a sprint. He continued to remain motionless,
breathing slowly and letting his body rest, and he knew
he couldn't remain here for too long, or they would
track him. He wasn't certain, but he felt confident that
they were able to track by scinth. It was also
apparent that their night vision was considerably better than his.
He prepared to move, and he listened for any sound
of movement around him. It was eerily silent, and the
only sound he could hear was the whispering of the
wind through the dead village. The thought occurred to him
that they were doing the same thing that he was doing,
listening for movement. Picking up a rock about the size
of his fist, he leaned slowly out from behind the
cart and he threw it. He didn't wait for it
to hit. He slipped back and out the other side
of the ox cart and crouched low as he ran
for the broken shell of a hut thirty yards away.
When the rock hit, it clattered among the boulders and
dislodged several smaller stones. The area immediately swarmed with creatures,
emerging from the shadows and screaming their vicious war cries.
Their cries turned to roars of fury when they found
they'd been tricked. Gray Egil rolled into the ruined hut
and low crawl beneath the partially collapsed roof and shimming
onto a rafter, he slid up near the top of
one of the walls that remained standing. He was able
to lift the crude roofing material and peer out into
the night. As he watched, the creature emerged from the shadows.
He was using the edge of the building to sneak
from one spot to another. It had its back against
the outside of the wall and was oblivious to Grave
Eagle's presence. He waited until the beast stood mere inches away,
with the back of his head close enough that he
could touch it. Drawing his art End's blade, he brought
it up and placed the tip a few millimeters from
the back of the creature's neck. It was right at
that point where the spine met the skull. Once the
blade was in place, Gregel said a quick prayer that
the beast would remain motionless for just a moment longer.
His prayer was rewarded as he summoned all of his
strength With a mighty shove, he drove the blade through
the spinal cord and into the brain stem. With a twist,
he yanked the blade free as the beast fell to
the ground immobile. The only thing the beast could move
was its eyes, which moved around in fear, uncomprehending of
what had just happened. Even that moment was short lived,
as the light faded quickly from its eyes, sliding back
down the rafter, Gregel lowered himself to the dirt floor
with almost no sound. As he started to move back
to the small opening in the wall, his instinct screamed
a warning. Unfortunately, it was far too late to avoid
the massive, hairy arm that swung out from the shadows.
The blow drove him back through the partially collapsed wall
and exploded out into the alleyway beyond it. The force
of the strike had smashed his bow to kindling and
scattered his arrows. He felt like he may have broken
his ribs as helow on his back in the dirt,
gasping for air. Before he could get up, the beast
roared as it smashed through the opening in the wall
and dove on top of him, wrapping its hands around
his neck. Gregel knew it intended to rip his head off.
The ard End's blade slashed back and forth across the
beast abdomen, spilling its guts all over Gregel, and the
grip on his neck loosened immediately, and Kragel was able
to shove the beast to the side as it collapsed
in a heap. Rolling onto his side, he forced himself
up onto his knees. His breath was still hard to
draw and his chest felt like it was on fire,
but he was alive. He had to get clear of
this area before the others arrived. Staggering, he lurched down
the alleyway and ducked into a small building that was
mostly intact, and it looked like it had been used
for storage. The blood of the beast was quickly cooling
on his skin, and he could smell the foul stench
of the beast enveloping him like a cloud. At least
they won't be able to find my scent, now, he thought.
Leaning against the wall and feeling along his ribs with
his fingers, he felt three of them move beneath his fingertips. Damn,
he muttered, wincing in pain. Down the alley, he could
hear the creatures screeching when they found their dead brother.
Gregel hoped that they wouldn't be able to track him
by the blood of the dead beast. He'd shaken off
the worst of it, but wasn't sure if he'd left
drops in the dirt. It was dark enough that they
might not see them, but they would certainly smell them.
He closed his eyes and took shallow breasts as he
strained to hear any signs of movement outside the shack.
He could hear one of the beast's heavy footsteps growling
closer as it came down the alleyway, and it stopped
outside the shed and began sniffing at the doorway. Gregel
moved silently to the side of the door. The shack
was much too small for the beast to walk inside.
The roof was low enough that Gregel had to watch
his head so he didn't strike the wooden beams. If
the beast came in, it was either going to have
to smash its way inside or dunk through the door.
The door was yanked outward and torn from the crude
rope hinges. Gregel heard it strike a building some distance away.
He waited for the beast to rip the roof off
and peer inside, but smiled when he saw the beast
leaning in through the doorway to look around. It was
peering at the back of the shed and hadn't seen him.
When the beast's neck was extended, Gregel drove the art
ends blade deep into the exposed throat and severed both
jugglar vein and the corded artery. The spray of blood
fountained out and sprayed the back wall of the shack,
and the creature's knees buckled as it collapsed to the floor.
Gregel stepped over the body and moved as quickly as
he could around the back of the shack and duck
behind a large boulder. His ribs were sending waves of
pain through his body, nearly making him nauseous. Each intake
of breath sent white hot agony through him in powerful waves.
Glancing around the edge of the boulder, he didn't see
any sign of the creatures. Moving as quickly as he could,
he slid through the back door of the hut that
was mostly undamaged. He leaned against the wall and glanced around.
He saw a long scarf hanging from a nail on
the wall, and he grabbed it and began wrapping it
tightly around his rib cage. He tied it as tightly
as he could and then wrapped one end around a
wooden beam and leaned back. It pulled the fabric even tighter,
and it hurt like hell. But once it was tied off,
he felt better. The ribs were no longer moving around freely.
There was still pain, but it wasn't that bad. Stealing himself,
he pulled on the knot once more, making sure it
was secure, and once he was content that it wasn't
going to release, he took a few steady breaths before
he headed back out into the night. He whispered the
Great Spirit prayer and lakoda. He finished in English, just
barely audible. So when life fades, he whispered, as the
fading sunset, my spirit may come to you without shame.
Taking a deep breath, he went slightly as the pain
spread through his rib cage. It wasn't as bad as
he had expected, and he smiled grimly, knowing he could
bear the pain without difficulty. Oh kahay, he whispered. Slipping
back out into the darkness, he began creeping along the
back row of huts at the edge of the village.
He passed a gap between two small huts when he
felt more than heard a rush of motion coming rapidly
behind him. One of the creatures was rushing him from
the deep shadows. Sprinting away. Gregel jumped on to a
boulder and then ran up the sheer rock face off
the cliff. Three steps up. He twisted backward and leaped
over the rapidly moving creature, and it reached for him,
but it was too late. It hadn't expected such a
bold move from the tiny human. Drawing his Sayak tomahawk
while in the air, he flipped it over and slammed
the spiked in into the beast's temple. The tomahawk remained
embedded in the monstrous skull as Gregel landed behind it.
The creature shook in shock as electricity ran through his body.
The blade was sticking into the side of its brain,
and the beast began to tremble uncontrollably. However, it wasn't
enough to immediately kill it. As the beast shook, Gregel
drew his art ends blade and quickly severed the femoral
arteries in both legs. Blood poured out in gray gouts
and sprayed across the rocky ground. The trembling increased, and
the beast dropped to its knees. Gregel slapped the handle
of the tomahawk with his free hand, striking it with
enough force to knock the spike free from the creature's skull,
and as the beasts fell forward onto its face, Gregil
raced off into the darkness. Breathing still caused him considerable pain,
but he pushed through it. More creatures were stalking him
in the ruins of this tiny village. It was his
job to keep their attention on him so they didn't
go after his men and the other survivors. He had
to continue to fight a gorilla war against these strange creatures.
He couldn't quit until they all fled or their reinforcements arrived.
Rounding a corner, he saw two other creatures just ahead.
They had their backs to him and hadn't heard his approach.
Glancing around, he saw that there was a narrow gap
between two huts that was too small for the creatures
to follow, and he slipped into the gap and slid
away from the opening and hid in the shadows. Holding
his breath, he listened for any sign that they had
heard him. At the far end of the narrow gap,
he could see another creature moving slowly along the front
of the huts. He held still and forced himself to
breathe quietly to not alert the beast. It began sniffing around,
but it looked away from him. It had its back
to the opening. Slowly, he began creeping closer to the beast.
It seemed to be looking around, but Gregel thought it
wasn't looking for him. His thoughts were confirmed when the
beast squatted with its back against the wall. It widened
its stance and began to drop the largest turd Gregel
had ever seen on anything smaller than an elephant. The
smell was horrible as he forced himself to breathe through
his mouth. The beast was completely focused on relieving himself.
It didn't hear his approach, and when he'd closed to
within three feet, he prepared his attack. The beast was
crowded low enough that its head was on the same
level as grey eagle's and its hands were braced on
its knees as it continued to evacuate its bowels. Gregel
couldn't help but wonder what the thing had been eating
until he saw human teeth in the stool. Anger rose
within Gregel as he considered the possibility that it might
be the teeth of one of his men. Reaching over
the beast's head, he stuck his fingers in the creature's
eye sockets and yanked the head violently back. Before the
beast could react, he slashed across its throat with the
long bladed art ends and knife. The razor's sharp edge
cut to the spine, sending a fountain of fetid blood
arcing into the air, releasing the beast's head. Gregel slipped
back into the deeper shadows. The beasts splider emptied, and
he knew that it was dead. It remained upright, leaning
against the wall of the hut. That's head lulled forward
onto its chest, and it could easily be mistaken for
sleeping until they got close enough to see the blood.
Gregil slipped back down the narrow passageway and peered out
the back. There was no sign of the two creatures
that had been there before. He knew they wouldn't be
far away, but he couldn't stay where he was. It
was only a matter of time before the body was
discovered and the alarm raised. Cautiously, he exited the gap
and headed away from the spot where he'd seen the
creatures and ducking into the hut with the partially collapsed roof,
He crawled beneath the rubble and slid on his stomach
to the narrow opening at the front of the hut,
Watching in silence, he smiled grimly, and he saw that
there were far fewer creatures prowling the streets than there
had been when he began. There were also moving with
much greater caution. He was now well concealed in and
he decided to risk resting here for a few minutes.
His ribs were killing him and he needed to gather
his strength if he was going to keep up the fight.
Closing his eyes, he slowed his breathing and relaxed his
sore muscles, and the pain began to slowly subside. Never
estimate the power of one man with a knife, he thought,
smiling darkly as the feeling of calm washed over him.
Now you're thinking like a Lakota. Another voice whispered in
his mind. It was the voice of his grandfather, and
it echoed through his memory, and it was the words
his grandfather had spoken when he'd successfully tracked and killed
his first deer he was nine. He'd hunted it and
taken it down with a traditional bow and used a
bone handled knife that had belonged to his father. It
was meant to honor him. Greygel had very few memories
of his father, since he lost lost both his parents
when he was very young, but the knife was a
good one, and his father had given it to him
not long before he'd been killed. He still remembered the
feeling when he'd taken the deer, and it had been
a good day. Now, many years and many thousands of
miles away, he thought of that first kill and he smiled.
It was the skills taught to him by his grandfather
that had saved his life tonight. It was those same
skills that he hoped would keep him alive until the
evac chopper arrived in the morning. What are you doing
so far from home, Lakota, asked a strange voice speaking Lakota.
Gregel looked around in surprise. At first, he didn't see anything.
He was beginning to think he'd imagined it, when it
spoke again. I asked you a question, boy, it said,
sounding irritated. Panic started to fill him as occurred to
him that if he could hear it, the creatures could too.
Oh don't worry about them, chiuted the voice. They can't
hear me. I'm not here for them. Hopping out of
the darkness, he saw an oddly familiar form. It was
a tall raven, as black as the darkness it had
emerged from. It danced back and forth before pecking at
something on the ground. What's the matter, it asked, cat
got your tongue? Boy, who are you? Whispered Gregel, replying
in Lakota. Who do you think I am? It asked?
Are you raven? Asked Gregel softly, Lie many things, replied
the raven. One name is as good as another, I suppose. Well,
what do you want, asked Gregel, glancing around nervously. Why
to give you a message, boy, said the raven indignantly.
I thought Raven was a spirit of chaos, said Gregel.
That is true, said the raven. But I'm also a messenger,
like an omen, asked Gregel. Do I look like an
owl to you? Demanded Raven angrily. No you don't, said Gregel.
Well good, said Raven. Now shut up and let me
give you a message so I can get out of
this place. Gregel nodded gravely, and then went back to
looking for the creatures. Oh will you stop that for
a second, demanded raven, hopping back and forth on its
feet and flapping its wings rapidly. Sh whispered Gregel. They'll
hear you. You can make as much noise as you like,
squawked the raven. Those stupid things can't hear you will.
Gregel was beginning to grow irritated. What's your message, asked Gregel,
focusing on the irate bird. That's better, said Raven, preening
a few feathers before continuing. Gregel stared at the bird,
who seemed to be in no hurry to pass on
whatever message it supposedly had for him. His irritation passed
when he realized how ridiculous this scene talking to a
bird in the first place, see, said Raven. Now even
you doubt I'm here, excellent, Gregel took a steady breath
and released it slowly. You feelin crazy yet, asked the raven. Mockingly.
Gregel bit his lip and he said nothing. That's better,
said the raven. You're listening instead of speaking. You should
do that more often, Gregel. The bird paused for effect
before continuing. That's the message, said Raven. Just listen. Listen
to what, asked Gregel. Did you miss what I just said?
Demanded Raven. Stop talking and listen. Gregel did as instructed. Now,
if you will kindly shut up and listen, said the raven,
you might just hear it. Greegel resisted the urge to
ask what he would hear, but thought he'd better indulge
the enigmatic bird. Closing his eyes, he strained to listen.
At first, there was nothing, but then he heard it.
It was just at the limit of his hearing. So
faint it was, and was no louder than his heart beat,
slowing his breathing. He let his thoughts go silent and
let the sound come to him, And then it began
to grow clearer. In the distance was the howl of
a wolf. It wasn't a wolf native to these lands.
It was the howl of a timber wolf, sunk magnitud
tunka in his language. Just beyond the howl, he heard
another sound. It was the steady, rhythmic drumbeats of Lakota
war drums. It was a sound he could not help
but feel deep down in his core. It was the
sound of the drum circle that his grandfather held during
important festivals around the fire. Now you hear it, don't you, boy,
said the raven. It calls to you. It's the voice
of your people, the call of the Lakota warrior. But
not just any warrior, son, it's the call of the
Hata Montano the dog soldiers, thought Gray Eagle. It's in
your blood, boy, said the raven. You'll need to listen
to it if you plan to survive tonight. Gregel looked
at the odd birds staring back at him with its dark,
obsidian eyes. Your destiny lies in those drums, gray Eagle, said,
the raven. Follow the path of the Hata Mataneo. Whenever
time seemed the darkest, you called on the power of
your ancestors. Boy, Now you must accept the responsibility that
comes with it. The path of the Hata Montaneo is
not some thing you turn away from, not that you
had a choice. It's in your blood, boy, ask your grandfather.
Before he could reply, the wind picked up and raven
vanished before his eyes, drifting away like dust on a
cool breeze. The sound of the wolf and the drums
faded as well, but he could still feel them inside
of him. Glancing around, Gregel felt at ease. There was
no sign of Raven and no indication that the creatures
had heard anything. They were still skulking through the shadows,
searching for the killer that had been thinning their ranks.
Gregel wondered how much time had passed during his conversation
with Raven. He glanced at his watch and saw that
it had been more than four hours since he'd crawled
beneath the rubble. Somehow he'd fallen asleep, and that explained
the Raven. It was a strange stream, yet somehow he
suspected it was more than that. Oddly, he felt the
pain in his chest had subsided to a dull eight,
and he felt refreshed and rested. He was shocked that
the creatures hadn't found him while he'd been asleep. The
thought suddenly occurred to him that they may have gone
after his men while he was out Crawling back out
the way he'd entered, He stood up and looked around
at what was left of the hut, and, taking a
moment to get his bearings, he prepared to move out
into the night. He knew which way he needed to
go to return to the central building where his men
were waiting, and he gazed into the darkness, and he
focused on the shadows. He was searching for movement. Hunters
of all species searched for movement. That was what always
gave away the prey, and this time would be no different.
Something seemed to separate itself from the shadows and move
away from the wall. That hadn't seen Greygel, and it
was going to move right past his position. He resisted
the urge to strike on pure instinct, and moments later
he was glad that he had waited. Another figure emerged
from the deep shadows. It was moving slower than the
other creatures, smelling the air as it moved. The beasts
had learned to be cautious, and the bodies of so
many of its comrades had taught it that this was
no normal prey they were stalking. This one was dangerous.
Grey Eagel held his breath and remained as motionless as
a statue. The beast had far better night vision than
he did, and he knew if it looked his way,
it would see him. Fortunately, it didn't turn its head.
It continued after the first creature, oblivious to his presence,
creeping out into the narrow alleyway. He looked in both
directions before moving stealthily around the back of the building.
Staying low and near the base of the wall of
the hut, he began picking his way toward the main building.
Near the edge of the building, he found a wooden
pole with one end that tapered to almost a point.
Grabbing the pole, he slipped into the next hut and
began quietly sharpening it with his ardend's knife. After several minutes,
he had the tip of the pole sharpened enough to
pierce the skin. He took a moment and found a
discarded burka lying in the dirt, and using it with
a few sticks, he set it up to look like
a person facing the door. Then he concealed the sharpened
pole behind it, with the end anchored at the bast
of the wall and the tip concealed near the middle
of the burka. It wasn't a great likeness, but it
might fool the creatures climbing up into the rafters of
the hut. He waited until he heard one of the
beasts skulking nearby. As the dark shadow of the beast
covered the door, Gregel threw a small stone at the
wall beside the door. The creature turned immediately and peered
into the hut, and Gregel could see the beast's eyes
and narrow as it saw the decoy. Tensing for the charge,
Gregel prepared to move, but the creature did something unexpected.
It leaned its head back and started to draw in
a deep breath. Gregel knew it was about to call
the others to it. With a snap of his wrist,
he threw the art ends blade and buried it into
the creature's throat. The cry was instantly choked off into
a gurgling, raspy snort. As the beast clawed at the
blade in its throat. Gregel dropped down from the rafters
and grabbed the sharpened pole. Rushing forward with all its strength,
he drove the tip into the beast just below its
rib cage. It pierced deep into the beast at an
upward angle and tore through the left lung. The beast
went rigid and then began to fall. Embracing the end
of the pole on the ground, Gregel let the weight
of the beast impale it on the pole. The wood
became slick with the beast's fetid blood as it sank
further onto the pole. Its own weight forced the tip
to emerge from its back, pulling the lung with it.
The beast locked eyes with Gregel. It was dying, but
it still reached for him, determined to finish him off
with its dying breath. Gregel released a grip on the
pole and ducked to the side, avoiding the monster's outstretched arms.
Deftly slipped past the arm. He grabbed the handle of
his knife and yanked it free. He considered finishing off
the beast, but new others were likely coming his way.
Turning away, he raced down another alleyway and slipped into
a hut that was just across from the main building.
Crouching in the darkness as far back into the corner
as he could, and he watched. From his vantage point,
he could see the dying creature still impaled on the pole.
Two more creatures arrived and saw the dying beasts and
stared at it with confusion on their strange faces. They
glanced around before hurrying off into the night. They were
moving quickly, but Gregel was pleased to see they were
going in the wrong direction. Slipping out of the shadows,
he checked to see if any of the beasts were
close enough to see him, and when he found the
coast was clear, he sprinted across the narrow gap and
slept back into the main building. It was just as
he had left it, and he saw no sign that
the creatures had discovered the hidden door that led to
the cellar. For a moment, he considered knocking and joining
his men, but he knew even that small amount of
noise would likely bring several other monsters down upon them all.
Then it would only be a matter of time before
they found the cellar and killed everyone inside. Looking quickly
around the room, he found his pack right where he'd
left it. He opened it and he checked the gear
that he'd left behind. He took out several grenades and
he placed them into his cargo pockets, and he also
grabbed a roll of fishing line he kept for making
trip wires. It would be practically invisible in the darkness.
The last thing he grabbed was a block of sea
four plastic explosives that they kept for destroying the enemy
vehicles or large weapons. Tucking a few detonators in his pocket,
he began making plans of the best way to utilize
the explosives. He moved back to the door and saw
that three creatures were coming his way, and he moved
over to a side window and slipped out through it,
and then headed away from the main building. He moved
quickly until he was near a large boulder where he'd
found the snake. Slipping behind it. He crouched low, watching
for signs of pursuit. When he was confident he wasn't
being followed, he slept out from behind the boulder and
placed two grenades on the ground. Straightening the pins, he
tied the fishing line to the rings, and then placed
large stones around the grenades to keep them from moving,
and then he played out the line until it was
back behind the boulder. Crouching in the deep shadows of
the boulder, he estimated the distance from the grenades to
be thirty yards. The boulder would be plenty big enough
to shield him from the blast. The thing was, he
knew he'd have to be moving as soon as the
dust cleared to get clear of the area. The sound
was going to bring all the others down on the spot.
He watched the alleyway for signs of movement, and it
wasn't long before two of the creatures rounded the corner
and headed toward him. They were both carrying crude spears
and kept them at the redge. They were doing more
than just searching for him. They were actively hunting him,
Waiting until just before they reached the grenades. Gregel timed
their arrival with a strong yank on the line. He
felt the pins come free, and he heard the metallic
clink of the spoons popping off of the grenades. The
creatures looked down in confusion at the pile of rocks
below them. Gregel closed his eyes and shoved his fingers
in his ears, and then got as close to the
base of the boulder as possible. The two grenades went
off almost simultaneously and ripped the monsters apart. One lost
the leg at the knee and the other was tossed
into the air, landing in a bloody heap. Both creatures
were mortally wounded and began shrieking in pain and rage.
Gregel jumped from behind the boulder and raced off down
the alley, diving into a darkened hut. He put his
against the wall, pulling another grenade from his pocket. He
straightened the pin and held it tightly in his hand,
and when he heard several of the creatures arrive. He
pulled the pin and tossed it in the middle of them.
Racing out the front of the hut, he ran across
the main thoroughfare and dove into another hut. Behind him,
he heard the grenade detonate and the screams of several
more creatures. He doubted that he'd killed many of them,
but it was enough to make them cautious and possibly
take a few of them out of the fight. He
straightened the pin on another grenade and placed it beside
the door, and then he made a tripwire with a
fishing line across the door. And then he looked around
for something to use as a lure. Not finding anything
that would attract the beasts, he decided to try something else.
Moving into the darkness at the back of the hut,
he opened his fly and urinated into one corner. Then
he quickly replaced his fly and slipped out the back door.
He moved low and fast, finding himself next to the
overturned ox cart he'd hidden behind before, and slipping beneath
the cart, he pulled his legs up against his chest
and he waited. After a moment, he heard one of
the beasts moving close to his position. He peered out
and he saw one of the monsters was right beside him.
It wasn't aware of his position, and he noticed the
beast was also carrying a crude parfletchi and he got
an idea. He realized he could count coup and still
eliminate a target at the same time. Taking out the
plastic explosives, he rolled a chunk into a ball about
the diameter of a baseball. Then he stuck a detonator
in it, and he set the timer for two minutes.
He activated the countdown and then slowly reached for the pouch.
He was able to open it and slip the explosives inside. Slowly,
he retracted his hand and crouched back behind the cart,
and then he began counting down in his head. He
knew that the timer was running and the creature was
still right beside him. When his mental counter told him
it was closing in on thirty seconds, he began to worry.
Across the court, you already heard and fell the grenade
trap explode, and another beast began screaming, and the creature
beside him raced toward the bleeding beast. Greygil slipped out
from beneath the ox cart and ran around the back
of the building. He ran directly into the chest of
a beast. The creature looked as shocked as he felt,
and the momentary hesitation was all he needed. Dropping to
his knees, he dozed between the monster's legs and slashed
its hamstring as he went. The beast dropped to one
knee and tried to turn and face him, and the
boom of the detonation from the plastic explosives shook the building,
and the creature looked in that direction. In surprise, Gregel
darted in close and slashed the beast across the throat,
sending a fountain of blood erupting from the wound. The
beast hands went to his wound in its neck, and
Gregel raced away. He knew that the beast was doomed,
so he didn't wait to see it fall. There were
still more of these creatures and he couldn't afford to
get caught out in the open. As he ran down
the alley, he saw one of the creatures emerge and
immediately throw a speir at him, and it flew fast
and true, coming right at him. Gregel spun to his
left and felt the sharpened tip of the spear cut
a long line across the stomach, sending blood flying onto
the ground. Gregel launched himself backward into a hut, out
of sight of the beast, and grabbing a grenade, he
tossed it out into the alleyway, directly at the spot
where the beast had been. It detonated a few seconds later,
and he heard the screaming of the beast, indicating he
had gotten at least a piece of it. He inspected
his wound and it was bleeding, but it hadn't been
deep enough to disembowel him. From the depth of the cut,
he knew it hadn't missed doing just that by more
than a few millimeters. Around him were a few articles
of clothing that had belonged to the previous occupants, and
finding a row, he cut a long strip from it
applied it to the wound, tying it off tightly. That's
got a hole for now, he thought, wincing in pain.
Ducking out into the alley, he turned to run when
he saw one of the beasts a few yards away,
and Gregil quickly pulled a grenade and yanked the pin free,
tossing it to the beast, and he smiled when he
saw it catch the grenade. Looking at it quizzically, Gregel
didn't wait for it to detonate. Instead, he used the
time to put some distance between him and the beast,
and as he slid into another collapsed hut, the grenade
detonated in the distance. He could hear the shrapnel hitting
the sides of the hut, but he didn't hear the
monster screaming. What he didn't see was the creature had
bent down on their grenade as it tried to figure
out what it was. It had detonated in the monster's
mouth and blown its head completely off. Its headless body
fell to the ground, fountaining gore into the dirt of
the narrow alleyway. He could hear several of the beasts
screeching out a warning. Une sure of what they were doing,
Gregel ducked out of the hut and glanced around. He
needed to get above the creatures to get a look
at what they were doing. Glancing around, he saw that
he was still close to the main building. Racing back
through the front door, he slipped into the stairwell that
led to the minaret, Pulling the locking mechanism out of
the way, he opened in the hatch and climbed out
into the small platform. He crouched low and began looking
around the ruined village, and he smiled when he saw
light on the horizon. The sun was going to be
up soon. Reaching into his cargo pocket, he took out
his last grenade. He slapped the remaining sea forth to it.
He pulled the pin and lobbed it at the group.
It sailed through the air and landed at the feet
of the nearest creature the beast. All turned to see
what had hit the ground. They all stared in confusion,
except for one creature. It looked directly at Gregel with
hatred burning in his eyes. As Gregel duck low, the
beast leaped into the hut next to them, and the
explosion shook the buildings, partially collapsing two huts. The bees
standing close to the blast were torn apart. Gregel looked
over the edge of the minaret to see the creature
that had looked him in the eyes. Urging from the
rubble of the hut. It turned to him and roared
a challenge. It was so loud Gregel could feel it
resonating in his chest and hear it echoing through the mountains.
Drawing his art End's knife, Gregel waited for the charge
that he knew was about to come. The beast wasted
no time, racing toward him and leaping onto the roof
of the building with ease. As it ripped the minaret apart,
Gregel slashed it across the upper arm, revealing bone with
the depth of the slash. The beast ignored the wound,
feeling no pain in its fury, It backhanded Gregel and
sent him flying across the roof, and he slid to
a stop, blood pouring from his mouth and nose. He
knew his jaw was fractured and his nose was broken.
The ringing in his ears told him he likely had
a concussion as well. Forcing himself to his feet, he
looked at the beast and began singing his death song.
He held the art Ends blade in one hand in
the say Yak tomahawk in the other, and the beast
roared and crouched for the attack. Greegel readied his weapons,
knowing this was to be his final moments. He was
prepared to die as a Lakota warrior, singing at the
top of his lungs. He readied his weapons and crouched.
He intended to do as much damage to the beast
before it killed him. Visions of his grandfather swam before
his eyes. He was going to die as a dog soldier.
He would hold until the last breath escaped his lungs.
As the creature started to spring toward him, the roar
of a heavy machine gun erupted, shattering the tableau that
was unfolding. Gregel watched as a full barrage of high
velocity machine gun fire ripped the creature apart, and Gregel
looked to the sky to see who had rescued him.
As the creature fell over backward, an Apache helicopter raced
overhead and banked over the village. Behind it, two black
Hawk helicopters came in low and landed at the edge
of the village. Soldiers began to pour out and heading
into the village. Gregel looked around and didn't see any
of the creatures remaining, but he did see a considerable
number of bodies. There would be no denying what had
happened here. There were more than twenty Barmano lying in
the dust of this dead town. Heading down the stairs,
he emerged into the main room to find his men
opening the door to the cellar. The two men entered
the main door and looked around and their weapons still
at the ready. Gregel turned and looked at them, swaying
slightly on his feet. Holy shit, Gregel, said one of
the men. This is getting to be a habit. Gregel
smiled when he recognized his friend, Carrie Pocket Doc Davis.
Looks like the air force got here too late for
the party, said Doc Doc. How the hell are you,
asked Gregel, quoting a line from a famous movie. Why
I'm rolling, replied Doc in his thick Mississippi accent. It's
good to see you, brother, said Gregel, as the Doc
slipped beneath his arm to support his weight. Looks like
you need my services, said Doc. My men, said Gregel.
Some of them need it more than me. Don't worry, Brochacho,
said Doc. We brought more than one medic. I'll take
care of you and let the others check your men.
Let's get you looked at and blow this popsicle stand.
One by one, the wounded were evaluated and escorted to
the waiting choppers. Even the local survivors would be taken
from the area. No one wanted to remain behind in
this village of death. What the hell are those things,
asked Doc. Well, the locals call em barmano, said Gregel.
It's some kind of bigfoot creature. Well that's for people
above my pay grave to figure out, said Doc. Let's
unask this place post haste. As they headed for the chopper,
Gregel could see that all of his men were being
taken care of. They were being moved to the two
black hawks, and above them a pair of Apatche attack
choppers circled the area, providing protection. You forgot your pack,
said Aban, handing Gregel his rucksack. Gregel accepted it and
slid the strap over his shoulder. Thank you, he said,
nodding to Aban, Thank you, said Aban, you saved us all.
Gregel said nothing. I didn't know you spoke posh to you,
said Doc, nodding at the pilot. Gregel shrugged. I do
a bit, he replied. Once they were on board the choppers,
they lifted into the air. Gregel leaned back against the
cool metal of the chopper and he closed his eyes.
Doc began checking his wounds as they lifted into the air.
While Doc was working, Gregel noticed something hard in his pack.
He slid it off and glanced inside and found a
bag that he didn't recognize. He opened it and found
it was full of diamonds. Glancing over at Abon, the
old Mulla smiled and nodded. You earned it, said aban
Gregel leaned back and tied the bag shut. He knew
what he would do with it. It was all going
to the families of the men who had been killed.
He'd even give some to McKenny on the condition that
he married the girl he'd promised, and under the circumstances,
McKinny was probably going to be damn glad to see her.
If there was anything left, he'd find something worthwhile to
invest it in, hey said Doc. Well, I've got you
as a captive audience. Let me tell you about this
idea I have for a company when I get back
home one moment, said a man in a completely sanitized uniform.
There was no rank displayed, no unit patch or even
a name tape. I need a moment with first Sergeant, Gregel,
said the man. What can I do for you? Sir,
asked Gregel. The rest of Your team will be debriefed
when we land, said the man. But I needed to
speak to you before then. How should I address you,
Sir asked Gregel, fishing for details. My name and rank
are not pertinent to this discussion. First Sergeant said the man.
There is something I need you to understand. Yes, Sir,
said Gregel, what's that? I know what you think you
just saw in that village, said the man, But you
will not be allowed to tell that story. Your unit
was attacked by insurgents, nothing more, nothing less. There will
be no mention of the creatures. Do you understand me, why,
Sir asked Gregel. Their bodies all over the place down
there if you want them for proof. You're not listening
to me. First Sergeant said the man impatiently. You were
attacked by insurgents. That is a direct order. Do you understand.
I don't know who you are or how you fit
into my chain of command, said Gregel, frowning. The man
produced a folded piece of paper and handed it to Greagel.
Read this, said the man angrily. The top of the
letter read from the Office of the Secretary of Defense.
It authorized the man to act on behalf of sect
death and instructed whoever read it to afford the bearer
of the letter to be given the full authorization of
the office of the Secretary in no uncertain terms. That
meant Gregel had to accept his orders without question. Yes, Sir,
said Gregel, handing the letter back again. First Sergeant said
the man, you and your men were ambush by insurgents.
Fast movers are inbound and will be dropping enough fuel
air bombs on that location to leave no trace of
anything that happened. Now, as I said, you will never
mention the creatures in any report or conversation, by order
of sect death. Do you understand, Yes, Sir, said Gregel understood.
The man then moved away and sat on the other
side of the chopper. He put on a radio headset
and he began speaking softly. Okay, now about that idea,
said Doc, moving to resume bandaging the wounds. Gregel looked
out the side of the chopper and in the distance
he saw massive detonations as fireballs ran high into the sky.
All evidence of the battle was gone. Now he understood
that he had to keep it to himself, and people
with the kind of power that this mysterious man had
could make him disappear just as easily. Leaning back, he
put his head against the wall and he closed his eyes.
Despite what Sect Deff wanted the public story to be,
Gregel knew the truth. One day it would come out,
and one day it would all be made public. Until then,
he would keep quiet. Somewhere during the flight he fell asleep.
He dreamed of the strange creatures called Barmano and the
precious cargo he was carrying. It wasn't going to be
easy getting it back to the States, but he knew
just the person to talk to. He would make sure
the families of his men were taken care of. That's
far more than the army was going to do.