Chapter 16
The Mission: Day One
Jack felt his parachute starting to unfurl. He took a quick glance in Jill’s direction. He could see the direction of her descent was going to put her near the middle of a clearing. She would be about four miles from their original planned landing spot. Good, she won’t be landing in the trees.
Now that he knew where she would be landing, he had to focus on his own problems. As the trees rushed toward him, he quickly glanced upward. My chute is open and fully inflated. I hope it slows me down in time.
Jack looked down and saw trees below him. There was no clearing close enough that he could land in. He mentally reviewed the necessary procedures for a tree landing. He crossed his ankles and squeezed his legs tightly together so they would be less likely to catch on any branches when his body plunged into the top of the trees. Then he tugged the steering cords several times to aim his parachute to the smallest tree he could find. Two seconds before hitting, he extended both arms straight up over his head. Then, after taking one last look, he closed his eyes tightly and bent his left elbow so his forearm covered his eyes and nose. That way, his face would have some protection from the branches that were about to rush past his face.
Jack could hear the small branches snapping as his body plunged into the tree. That changed to a popping sound as the branches were getting larger. Finally, the sound changed to a banging as he hit the large branches near the center of the tree. He could feel his body begin to buckle as the large branches forcibly struck him. He focused his mind on squeezing his legs together and holding his forearm tightly against his face.
Suddenly, there was silence. Jack relaxed, and started checking body parts. He could wiggle his toes and fingers, and move his legs and arms. He was thinking clearly, and could see, so his head must be all right. Hanging from the parachute cords, he saw a large branch about two feet in front of him that he could use to climb down the tree. Jack began swinging and after a couple of tries he hooked the branch with both of his feet. Pulling himself with his feet, he grabbed the branch with his right hand. Then he released his parachute by yanking the quick release buckles on his shoulders with his free hand. He was free from his chute. He began pulling it into the tree so he could hide it. Grabbing the nylon cords, he pulled and pulled. Finally he had pulled the parachute out of sight. He stashed it in a fork of one of the branches. I hate to take the time to stash the chute when Jill is injured, but I can’t risk Zaragoza spotting the chute if he flies by in his helicopter.
Jack climbed down the tree as quickly as he could. Then he ran the half-mile to Jill’s landing spot. She was in the middle of the clearing, and not moving.
Jack was careful that he did not move Jill. He especially did not want to move her head in case she had any spinal injuries. He felt her pulse. It was weak and rapid. He checked her breathing. It was shallow.
“Jill, can you hear me?” Jack’s voice was instinctively quiet. He knew that he was behind enemy lines. There could be patrols, even this far out from Zaragoza’s compound.
“Jill, wake up. Please . . . wake up.”
Jack looked into Jill’s eyes. They were half open, and not moving. He grabbed his flashlight and shined it into each of her pupils and they both contracted. “Good, she has autonomic reflexes.”
Jack waited a couple of seconds and repeated himself. “Jill, please wake up.”
Jack didn’t know what to do. Then he saw movement. Jill’s eyes blinked. Thank God.
Jill blinked several more times. “Ja . . . Ja . . . Jack, are you okay?”
Jack couldn’t believe that Jill’s first words expressed concern for him. “I’m fine, Jill. You hit an eagle at ten thousand feet.”
“Ea . . . eagle? Ten thousand feet? Poor eagle.” Jack chuckled. He could see that Jill was coming around and he found it humorous that she was so concerned about the eagle that almost killed her.
“Jill, I have to get you and your chute out of this clearing. Aircraft in the area might see us, and we can’t let that happen.”
“Uh huh. Sure, Ja . . . Jack.”
Jack gently pulled the quick release buckles on Jill’s shoulders. That allowed him to separate the chute from her harness.
“Jill, I am going to have to use your chute to drag you to the woods. Do you think you can roll over on your side?”
“Uh huh, if you help me a little.”
Jill slowly rolled on her right side. Jack was stilled concerned that Jill might have spinal injuries so he let her do most of the work, and only helped when she absolutely needed it. Jack noticed that she was able to use both legs and both arms as she rolled. He pulled her chute and stuffed part of it under her. “Okay, you can relax.”
Jill slowly rolled back onto her chute.
“Jill, I will go slowly and try to avoid rocks and holes. Are you ready?”
“Uh huh.”
Jack grabbed the two straps that were originally attached to her shoulder buckles. Then he started pulling, slowly at first so he did not jostle her. He was still not sure about the extent of her injuries. One step at a time they moved closer to the edge of the woods. Jack kept listening for any aircraft in the area. He had pulled Jill about halfway to the woods when he heard the distant sound of a helicopter . . . woop, woop, woop.
“Jill, we are going to have to move faster.”
“Uh huh.”
Jack doubled his speed and in a short time he had Jill in the woods and out of sight. He went to her side and looked over her body for bleeding. He unbuckled her harness and weapons belt. Everything was covered with blood, guts, and feathers from the eagle. As he removed each layer of clothing he found that there was no blood inside her harness or clothing.
“Good news, Jill, you’re not bleeding.”
“Um, poor eagle.”
Jack chuckled again. “Only a woman would feel sorry for an eagle that had caused so much damage to her.”
Jack noticed that Jill was trying to move her limbs and head. This was a good sign; she was coming around.
He looked up just in time to see a Hughes Little Bird helicopter fly overhead. He heard the womp, womp of the rotor blades and said, “There goes your buddy, Jill.”
“The eagle?”
Jack chuckled again, “No Jill, it’s Zaragoza in his Little Bird.”
“Zaragoza? That bastard is not my buddy.”
Jack stopped and looked at Jill. He had never heard Jill use such strong language. I hope that means she is going to be okay.
Jack instinctively checked his watch. It was six twenty-eight. Zaragoza is getting an early start.
“Jill.”
“Um . . .”
“I need to check you for broken bones.”
“Su . . . sure.”
Jack began the process of systematically, and gently, squeezing her right shoulder, then upper arm, lower arm, and finally her right hand and fingers. Jack could not find any broken bones. She sure is one skinny soldier. How did she ever get through basic training? Then Jack began the same procedure on her left side. Left shoulder, left upper arm . . .
“Ouch!” Jill tensed up as Jack found a sensitive spot in her upper left arm. When her muscles tensed, Jack noticed that her bicep and triceps were tough and wiry. So that is how she got through basic training. She is lean and mean.
Jack continued the gentle squeezing process. “Jill, both arms are okay. Your left upper arm must be bruised from the bird strike, but I didn’t find anything broken. Now I am going to check your legs.”
“Uh huh. Sure.”
Jack began the same process of gentle squeezing, starting just below her right hip. He also was feeling for signs of dampness, just in case she was bleeding from her femoral artery. Working his way down her right leg he found no broken bones, and Jill didn’t flinch. As Jack was repeating the process for the left leg he noticed how slender her legs were. Hmm . . . long and sexy. Firm, and—
“Jack, can I have a drink of water?”
“I have
good news. You seem to be bruised and battered, but I think the eagle got the worst of the collision. Your bulletproof vest probably saved you from internal damages. So, yes, you can have a drink.” Jack pulled out his water bottle, removed the cap, and let Jill take a few sips.
“I’m going to call HQ a little earlier than planned.”
“Good. They will be glad to hear that I can go on with the mission.”
Jack’s eyes widened. He stared at Jill for a second. “That is not exactly what I had in mind. You just experienced a nasty bird strike at two hundred miles per hour and I need to get you flown out of here. You need medical attention.”
“Jack, don’t do that . . . please. I can make it. We won’t be making the shot for another two days. By then I will be much better. I can recuperate while we are doing our recon. I promise.”
Jack hesitated. He considered what Jill just said. It made sense, but his gut reaction was still telling him to get her to safety. “Hmm. You have a good point. It won’t hurt to wait two days to see how you do. If you don’t recuperate enough for the kill shot, then we can make our egress without killing Zaragoza. The Army can send another team in and finish off that bastard.” He used the same intonation as Jill when she had used the B word in referring to Zaragoza.
Jill caught his mimic and smiled. “You shouldn’t make fun of me when I’m not able to hit you.”
Jack was enjoying the friendly teasing. She has a good sense of humor. Especially considering what she just went through.
“All right, I’m going to run this past HQ and see what they say.”
Jack removed the comms radio from Jill’s harness and set up the satellite dish near the edge of the woods where he could get a good line-of-sight view of the military satellite. He watched the signal strength meter as he adjusted the antenna. Then he entered the scramble code into the keypad. Finally he keyed the mic. “Delta Bravo, this is Flap Jack Two. Do you read me?”
Jack knew that this radio was their only connection to the outside world. Without it he would not be able to talk to HQ. Even worse, he would not be able to arrange a helicopter pick up when they needed to leave Colombia.
“Delta Bravo, this is Flap Jack Two. Do you read me?” Jack again waited, hoping that the radio had not been damaged during Jill’s bird strike.
“Flap Jack Two, this is Delta Bravo, go ahead.”
“Hello, I am glad to hear your voice.”
“What’s up?”
“We had a bit of a problem. We had a bird strike on the way down.”
“Oh, what a bummer. Was there much damage to the plane?”
“The plane? NO! It happened on the way down!”
“On the way down? What do you mean?”
“I mean that we had a bird strike during our HALO jump!”
“During your HALO? Oh good grief . . . hold on.”
The radio went silent. Jack waited. Time seemed to stop. It must have been a full two minutes later when a voice came over the radio.
“Savage, this is Major Phelps. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Jill is the one who had the bird strike. She hit an eagle at ten thousand feet. It must have had a six foot wingspan, and it probably weighed fifteen pounds.”
“Holy moly. How is she?”
“She has lots of bruises and a heck of a black eye. No broken bones. I don’t see any evidence of internal injuries. She is conscious, but still a bit delirious at this point.”
“How fast was she going?”
“We were traveling two hundred miles per hour.”
“Oh boy. The eagle was looking for breakfast and never knew what hit her.”
“Right. Anyhow, Jill wants to continue with the plan. She can recuperate for the next two days while we do our recon. Then if she is up to it, we can take the kill shot and come home.”
There was a long pause. Jack waited while Major Phelps considered the situation. “Jack, I don’t see any reason to pull the plug right now, so go ahead with your plan. In the meantime, keep me posted daily with Jill’s condition. I’ll have a helicopter on standby in case she takes a turn for the worse.”
“Affirmative, sir, Flapjack Two out.”
Jill had been listening to the radio conversation. “Soooo, we get to spend another three days in beautiful sunny Colombia?”
Jack forced a weak smile. “Yeah, our vacation is not going to get cut short after all. Jill, if we are going to do recon for the next couple of days I should carry our equipment to the observation site on the top of the mountain overlooking the Zaragoza compound. It will take me about one hour to get our equipment up there, and another hour to come back for you. If I get started now, we should be able to start our reconnaissance about ten hundred hours”
“Right, I will stay here.”
“Do you still have your toy pistol?” Jack asked.
“Hey . . . be nice. Stop teasing me about my .22. Yes, it’s in the holster.”
“Good. Keep it handy and leave the safety off. If you need it, you don’t want anyone to hear you click the safety to the off position.”
“Good thought.” Jill reached down and slowly pulled out her .22. She grabbed the stock and pressed the safety with her thumb . . . click. Then she rested the .22 on her stomach, and laid both hands on top of it as if she were protecting it instead of it protecting her.
Satisfied that Jill could turn off the safety, he assumed that Jill would be able to use her .22 if she had to. Looking around, and listening, Jack could not see or hear any bad guys.
“I’ll be back in two hours, Jill.”
“Good luck, and don’t worry about me.” As Jill said these last words she affectionately patted the 22-caliber pistol that was lying on her tummy.
Jack got a kick out of the fact that Jill found comfort in things like guns. She had a tomboyish way about her, and he liked that.