Chapter 12

Under cover of very heavy Allied air activity, two Blackhawk helicopters with their sound mufflers on landed near the road behind the Russian lines. Kelly was wearing German peasant dress — a blouse and skirt. The others were in full combat camouflage uniforms. Helped by helicopter crewmen, they quickly stacked their supplies just off the road. Mike stayed with Kelly while Ken and Mary split and went up the road in opposite directions. They were looking for likely targets and covering against surprises.

Soon Ken reported on the radio that a single truck — similar to an Allied ten-by-ten — was coming. Kelly stood by the side of the road and waved as the truck approached. It slowed and then stopped. She spoke to the driver in German, but he just shook his head. Switching to a rudimentary Russian that a German might speak she asked for help and he nodded. The driver got down and the guard opened the door on the other side. When the driver was close, Kelly slipped a knife through his ribs into his heart. She withdrew the blade, wiped it on his uniform and dragged the body into a ditch. Mike had similarly disposed of the guard.

Checking with the other team on the radio, they were told another single was on its way from the east. The process repeated, but this time Kelly acted frightened. They left the legs of the guard visible, making it appear the first truck had been ambushed by guerrillas. The truck stopped and the driver and guard jumped down with their weapons drawn. There was the whisper from a silenced MP-5 as Mike cut them down in two quick bursts.

He called the others on the radio and reported they were all set. While they waited for Ken and Mary, Kelly started changing into her uniform. Mike grinned as she carefully fastened her new flak vest. “I feel a lot better when you’re wearing that thing, Kelly. On you it looks great!” She returned the smile and then started to scramble into the back of the truck to examine the cargo.

By the time she finished her inspection, Ken and Mary had rejoined. After burying the bodies in a nearby drainage ditch, Mike and Ken took the drivers’ positions and they drove off towards a spot on the map Kelly thought would be a likely spot for the reserve headquarters. They drove for 40 kilometers and entered the woods. At its perimeter was the first battery of antiaircraft missile defenses. One of the elements of their preparation had been to study the movement of supply trucks. They had found that they traveled at a steady 40 kph. Mike was careful to maintain that speed and Ken maintained an interval appropriate to trucks traveling in convoy.

When they reached the center of the woods, Kelly saw a track off to the left. It looked like it provided for access to the forest in peacetime but there was no sign of recent use. Fortunately, the ground was dry. As they drove off the road and onto the track, the truck tires did not leave obvious marks of their passage. The trucks went over a rise and then dropped below a ridge hiding them from the road.

Mike stopped the vehicle and they got out to check. Mary and Kelly went back to the road and pulled some dead branches over the track to conceal their tire tracks and obscure the existence of the woods road itself.

They had landed late at night. Now with dawn breaking to the east, Mike selected a spot for a temporary campsite. He took the first watch while the others took out their sleeping bags.

In what seemed only seconds later, Kelly felt a pressure on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and found herself looking into Mike’s. She smiled warmly as he bent down to kiss her. “Good morning, husband-to-be,” she whispered. She unzipped her sleeping bag and got up.

After eating they located their position on the map. Each took a sector and went out on patrol to try to locate the command posts.

Kelly moved west. She found a clearing with the ground rising into a wooded area farther to the west. She moved up the hill. As she approached the crest she dropped to her hands and knees and crawled the rest of the way. Looking down from the ridge she saw heavy tanks and several trailers parked in a clearing below. One trailer caught her eye. It had ten wheels on three axles while the others she had seen had six wheels on two. There was a heavy prime mover parked close by, apparently its towing vehicle. Trailers were normally pulled by ordinary trucks. She concluded that the trailer was heavily armored.

She watched carefully and noticed a sentry guarding the door which was on the side away from her position. While she watched, senior officers came and went. She had found the command post. After crawling back down from the crest, she called Mike on the radio. He joined her and they waited for news from the others. Mike had picked out a position he thought would be a good one for artillery. It was a section that in recent reconnaissance photos appeared to be woods although peacetime photographs and talks with German officers indicated there should be a large clearing. It appeared to be perfect for heavy artillery.

While they waited, Mike unfastened Kelly’s flak vest and her combat jacket and started to toy with her breasts. She lay on her back enjoying the sensation. Smiling up at him she said, “This is a strange place for heavy necking, isn’t it? By the way, if I ever see that dumb broad in New York, I’ll have to admit you finally got to first base!”

Finally, they heard from the others. Ken and Mary had found the artillery command post and were coming back. When they rendezvoused at the trucks to compare notes, Kelly told them about the armored trailer. Ken had spotted a similar but less elaborate one set a little apart from some others at the gun park.

They spent the next day moving their gear into position and getting rid of the trucks. They set up separate camps and sent a message to headquarters saying they had located their targets.

Now with nothing to do but wait, time passed slowly. It was a very strange two days Kelly and Mike spent in the woods. Although they were only yards away from the Russians, they were left alone. There was no sign of even the most rudimentary patrolling. Kelly noticed that their lovemaking was almost overpowering in its intensity, possibly resulting from their proximity to danger.

Finally, the night before the attack, they were observing the clearing with light-gathering binoculars. Although the area was in pitch darkness the glasses made it appear as if it were twilight.

Suddenly, Kelly had an idea. She tapped Mike on the arm and motioned him back off the ridge. “Darling, how would it be if we try to bug that command vehicle? I just realized the damn thing is steel and steel conducts sound. Could we put a radio bug on it? Then we would know the exact instant to fire: When the commander has told the units at the front to execute their maneuver, but before he initiates action here.” She was excited and Mike caught her enthusiasm.

They went into their supply pack and found a radio bug: a tiny listening device with its own power source and short-range radio transmitter. Mike picked up his MP-5, checked to be sure he had a full clip, and disappeared. Kelly smiled to herself remembering the time at the bridge and how she had snuck up on Mike. Subsequently, she had learned that he could move as silently as an Apache Indian and as invisibly.

Even though she knew what she was looking for and knew where he would be, she sensed more than saw him through her glasses. She did get a good look when he was under the trailer. She could see him manipulate the bug while listening with a receiver in his ear. When he had it positioned to his satisfaction, he appeared to melt away.

Moments later she heard the chatter of an automatic weapon followed by a curse in Russian. A guard while checking his weapon had accidentally fired it. Kelly felt a sudden pain and knew Mike had been hit.

She muttered, “Oh shit!” under her breath.

Minutes later Mike reappeared. He had a combat bandage tied over his left sleeve. She helped him back to their campsite and got him to a blanket as he fainted.

When Mike regained consciousness he was looking into Kelly’s blue eyes. She was looking at him wryly and shaking her head. He heard her say, “My poor babies.”

He was in their tent with a shielded lantern providing light. She had stripped off his flak vest, combat jacket, and tee shirt and had him resting on his right side.

“Here we go again,” he said softly. “Dr. Jackson is preparing to operate, I can tell. Where’s the release you want me to sign?” He grinned at her. His arm and shoulder hurt like hell.

He winced as she glared at him. “What did I do?” he asked, “And what’s this ‘poor babies’ stuff. I thought it was ‘poor baby’, but with you glaring at me like that, I guess it wasn’t.”

Her expression changed to her normal loving one and she ran her cool hand over his forehead. “Darling, I was feeling sorry for our babies. With a father who walks into every stray piece of flying metal and a mother who’s going to be a 30-year-old high-school dropout, what chance do they have?”

She glared at him, but it scarcely concealed a smile. “Michael Callahan, if you don’t take the cake. Do you know what happened? Because I do. Some dumb shit of a guard is playing with his weapon and accidentally fires it ... into you. The shouting was the sergeant of the guard reading him the riot act.” She shook her head and added, “It’s got to be the cheapest damned Purple Heart in history!”

Again her expression changed. “As far as the release is concerned, I signed it for you as ‘mistress’. And honey, the bullet hit your arm, glanced off the bone, went around your rib and is now in your back. I’m about to go in and get it. Okay?”