Chapter 49
At last Nick reached Derek's outstretched legs. He briefly hesitated, waiting to see his friend's back rise as a breath was taken. With relief, he saw a slight movement. He stepped closer, carefully examined the ground around the precept's body, then eased himself to his knees and continued his inspection.
"Indy!" Ginge called.
The SEAL turned back to the Brit, who was also on his knees... at the place where Nick had spotted the first of the mines.
"They're Russian!" Ginge yelled, now gently cradling one of the cylindrical devices in his hands. "A variation of the old US M-14.... It's bigger... metal casing... for blast and fragmentation."
Nick waved in understanding, then turned back to the task at hand. He saw an uneven mound, the glint of something metal, lying inches from Derek's left arm and another close to his head.
The precept moaned and tried to push himself up. Nick carefully leaned across his friend's body and pinned each arm to the ground to keep him still. "It's me," he said quickly into Derek's ear. "You're in a minefield.... Stay still.... Do you hear me?... Derek!"
"I hear...," he murmured. "What happened?... Masruq?... Can't remember."
Nick sensed from the utter misery in his voice that Derek already knew the answer. "No.... Sorry.... Listen to me.... You've gotta keep real still.... There's a mine next to your left arm." The SEAL inched his body forward. With a quiver in his stomach, he noted the torn coat and a bloody area over Derek's right shoulder. "Sorry...," he said. "I'm gonna have to put some weight on you... so I can reach the damned thing.... I've gotta get my fingers under it.... Scoop it up like a glob of cat shit in a litter box."
"Great analogy." Derek tried to chuckle, but groaned instead.
Nick pulled off his gloves, then lay across his friend's body... trying his best to avoid the bloodied shoulder. "OK.... Here we go." Careful not to apply any pressure to the device itself, Nick's fingers gently dug a small trench around the object. He stretched as far as he could, then blew upon its surface... scattering the snow and dust, leaving only a bit of soil and a few pebbles.
"Shit.... OK.... We got a live one.... The pin's gone and it's been set.... As if I ever really thought it wouldn't be...." He hoped his babbling play-by-play might calm the precept and himself. If he made one mistake, they would both be meeting Masruq again... real soon. "OK... easy does it...."
"Shut up... and just do it," Derek growled.
Nick ignored the comment and continued to mutter. "Good.... Nice and steady," he whispered, as he worked his fingers beneath the disk, then lifted it from its pebbled cradle and placed it as far away as he could reach. "There's one by your head.... That's next." He continued to talk to Derek as he worked on the object. "How bad are you hurt?... Your back?... Anywhere else?" There was no reply. "Derek?..."
"...Ssss.... Head hurts...." Derek groaned as Nick's weight pressed on him. "Back... hurts... shoulder... ribs.... So cold."
"Sorry...." Nick felt his friend's pain as his weight pressed down. He gently laid the second mine beside the first, then quickly pushed himself up, relieving Derek of his weight. He hunkered down beside the other man... once more examined the ground around his legs... his torso. "If you can... push yourself up... slow... real careful... straight back onto your knees and heels."
Derek wobbled sideways as his right arm failed to bear its share of his weight, but the SEAL caught and steadied him. Nick scanned the ground where Derek had been lying. "I think we're OK," he said. "Sometimes these damned things can play dead, but they're not."
He studied the precept's ashen face. There was a long, deep slash at his hair line. Blood streamed down the side of his face, into his greying beard. It was the image he'd seen the other day... after Derek had killed that bastard "Nelson"... but this time it was Derek's own blood.
"Shit!" Nick said, as he brushed back the long curls and touched the wound. Scrambling in the medical pack, he found dressings. Pushing the hair aside, he laid a thick, gauze pad on the gash, and quickly bandaged the area to staunch the bleeding.
The precept's eyes shut and his body swayed forward. "Whoa!" Nick exclaimed, again circling his friend with a supportive arm. "Derek... hold on.... Let me see your back." He gently loosened the coat, saw the holes torn through the layers of nylon, polar fleece, leather, and wool, where metal had penetrated flesh. "Shrapnel," he said quietly. "I can't do much about this here.... It's too cold.... I'll get a pad in there and tie it down... tight.... It'll have to do.... It'll put some pressure on it till we can deal with it... when we get to where we're going.... OK?... We gotta be real close."
Derek managed a weak nod. "It'll be OK," he whispered, then bent forward to vomit. As his friend worked, the precept turned his focus inward, grasping his center to shut out the pain.
Nick slipped a compress down, beneath Derek's shirt and pressed it over the wounds, then smoothed the precept's clothing over his back and pulled it tight. On the outside, he bound a wide strip of cloth around Derek's chest and over his shoulder to hold all in place.
"Tie my upper arm down," Derek ordered. "It'll stay in place better if I can't move my arm... and it hurts like hell when I do.... Pull it as tight as you can." He gritted his teeth against the pain as Nick followed his instructions. "Now... help me up.... The snow's covering the mines.... I'll try to 'see' them."
"Can you walk?" Nick asked, uncertain of how much help he could provide. "I'm not too steady myself."
"I know," Derek said. "Just help me up."
Once on his feet, the precept turned towards Masruq's body, which lay partially hidden behind the carcase of his horse. "You're sure?..." he asked, reaching out with his mind and feeling nothing.
Nick met his eyes and saw the inner pain. "He... uh... he... uhhh... lost both legs.... We couldn't get to him.... He was gone in minutes." He glanced around at the deteriorating weather. "We've gotta get to the caves," he said. "We can't bury him.... We can't get to him... not now.... OK?..."
Derek looked out across the white ground. He knew there could be dozens of mines between them and Masruq. He looked up the road, then back at Ginge, who was working his way towards them on hands and knees, and knew that Nick was right. Their own lives depended on getting out of that minefield... not deeper into it... and getting to shelter.
"Masruq was a tough man... a warrior... a martyr... like Hasmit. He'd understand... and so will Allah," the precept commented sadly. "You'll have a proper burial one day, my friend," he whispered. "I promise."
Later...
Praying that no mines lay hidden ahead, the small group huddled as close together as they could to shelter from the snow, now driven horizontal by a cruel wind. They moved at a snail's pace with Nick and Ginge riding, uncomfortably perched on the heavily laden horses.
Derek, barely conscious, slumped over the neck of the third horse, whose load had been partly shifted to the others. Yusuf allowed the animal to drop its head... to sniff out its own way... while he stayed at the precept's knee, in close attendance to make sure he stayed in the saddle.
At last they reached the sheer, rocky face of the mountain. From down the valley, explosions continued to rumble through the earth and echo against the cliffs.
"This must be it." Nick looked around, puzzled. "End of the line."
"Where's the bloody way in?" Ginge called, sliding down from his nervous mount.
"Good question," Nick replied. He, too, carefully dismounted as his horse became more agitated at the sounds of war. He limped over to Derek. "How you doin', Boss?" he asked, gently squeezing the other man's thigh.
"Still here." Derek's voice was weak, husky with pain.
"No shit...," Nick responded. "We're there.... Soon get you comfortable." He glanced at Yusuf who tightly held and soothed Derek's horse. The boy smiled and nodded. "All we gotta do is work out how to get in the joint," the SEAL added, scanning their surroundings
"Pipes?..." Derek suggested, as he struggled to dismount. "Yusuf.... Help me down... please."
"Yeah... well.... They disappear into the rock face about ten feet off the ground...," Nick said, as he pulled his crutch and his AK-47 from his horse's pack. "Stay with Derek.... See if you can find any shelter.... Keep an eye on him.... I'm gonna scout around.... Find our way in.... Tell Yusuf to keep your weapons handy.... We don't know what we might stumble across."
"Ginge... tell Yusuf to go with him," Derek murmured. "More mines... maybe."
Nick gestured for both of them to remain in place. "Stay with him," he silently ordered.
Half an hour later, Nick hobbled back, cold and disheartened. He found the group, huddled in a narrow cleft between giant slabs of rock. The miserable horses stood tethered at the entrance, heads down, tails to the wind. Ginge looked up hopefully. "Anything?" the Brit asked.
"Nothing... as far as I could see.... Nothing... no entry... no hole... no door.... Shit!" The SEAL's frustration was evident.
Ginge groaned as he pulled himself to his feet. "Indy... we better find some real shelter... real fast," he muttered, pulling Nick to one side. "The boy's tired... you and I are buggered... but Derek needs attention.... He looks bad."
Nick hunkered down in front of his friend, took his face in his hands, and turned it towards him. Dull, listless eyes met his gaze. He pulled off his glove and Derek's, then grasped the precept's hand, which had the cold clamminess of shock. "Hold on," he whispered. "Hold on.... I'll get you in... promise."
He and Ginge exchanged worried looks, "Where's that damned photo Sloan e-mailed us?" Nick snapped.
Ginge stepped between the horses to rummage in his pack. With their backs against the wind, huddled between the furry bodies, the two men studied the satellite image. "It don't help any more than the maps do," the SAS man muttered. "We assumed the entrance would be close to the pipeline... but there's no real point of reference.... Shit!" he echoed Nick's frustration.
"Indy... you're all in.... Stay with Derek." The corporal picked up Nick's rifle. "I'll take Yusuf and search the other way."
"OK," Nick agreed, "but don't go too far.... We can't afford to get split up.... Stay close to the rocks... if you get into the open, it's damned near a white-out.... You can't see five feet in front of you.... Take one of the horses.... Derek's has the lightest load."
* * *
The SEAL watched them depart, then knelt down in front of his friend. The precept managed a weak smile and murmured, "Yusuf made some tea.... There might be some left...."
"Thank God for camp stoves," Nick sighed, as he reached for the kettle and poured a cup of the still warm liquid. He then sank down beside the other man. Derek lifted his sheepskin cloak to allow Nick to slip in close beside him.
The SEAL scooted in, eased a supportive arm around the precept's body, then pulled the pushtin back to cover them. They shared the warm tea in silence. "How you doin'?" Nick asked. "...and don't say 'fine'.... None of us is fine!"
"Bad headache... back hurts," Derek replied, "but I'm not as cold as I was."
Nick frowned and looked at the now flushed face, then pulled off his glove again and laid the back of his fingers against Derek's cheek. The clamminess had gone, which was good, but he didn't like the heat that had replaced it.
"How's your leg... your feet?" the precept quietly asked.
"Everything hurts like hell... but it's OK.... Scout's honor," the younger man replied, hoping his voice conveyed sincerity. Everything did hurt like hell, but despite setbacks, he was on the mend... slowly. It would take awhile.... They all desperately needed rest.
"You weren't a scout," Derek countered, then paused for a long moment. Finally, he said, "Nick... the entrance must be here." He leaned wearily against the warm body beside him. "We've got to find it.... There's nowhere else to go."
"Can you 'see' anything that'll help?"
"No.... It could be the headache, but I feel like there's a barrier... stopping my 'Sight'... dead."
"You rest," Nick said gently. "We'll find the way in.... Don't worry... I'll bet Ginge and Yusuf are already on their way back." The SEAL felt Derek give a slight nod and snuggle more closely.
"Yes," the older man whispered. "They're both good men... so many good men...." His voice trailed away.
Nick knew he was thinking of Masruq and Hasmit. "Come on.... Let's just get warm," he said, hugging his friend again, in silent comfort.
Nick glanced anxiously at the sky. Black, heavily laden clouds were cutting off the weak, winter light of a fast fading day. Derek was sleeping with his head resting on Nick's shoulder. He'd have to wake him soon... to make sure he was OK. That blow to the head could be more dangerous than the shrapnel in his shoulder. The SEAL reached for his friend's wrist, uncovered it, and raised it to read his watch.
"What?..." the precept asked, groggy and confused, as he struggled to get his bearings.
"S'OK," Nick reassured him. "No watch.... I was checking yours."
Glancing around, Derek tried to sit up, then felt Nick's arm supporting him. "They're not back yet?"
"No...." The younger man untangled himself, then stood and tucked the sheepskin back around the precept. He pushed between the horses and searched the white world beyond the cleft. "I can see them!..." he called back in relief. "Back in a sec."
The SEAL limped towards Ginge and Yusuf, met the soldier's eyes, and saw his dejection. "Nothing?" he asked. "Jesus!... I don't believe this."
"Sorry, Indy," the Brit replied, hanging his head. "We couldn't find a thing... just fuckin' snow and rock." With Yusuf's help, Ginge slid from the saddle and stood before the SEAL. As the three huddled behind the horse to escape the biting wind, both explorers shook mounds of snow from their shoulders.
"What the hell do we do?..." Nick demanded, trying to keep a grip on his panic. "We can't go back.... We can't go forward."
"We'll have to set up camp here," Ginge said flatly. "It'll be dark soon.... There's nothing else we can do. We're losing the light."
"Here!" Nick's anxiety took hold. "Derek needs medical attention.... We can't treat him in this." He waved an arm at the snow and barren rock. In frustration, he limped back to the crevice where his friend lay... placed a hand on its cold, jagged stone, looked at its narrow space, at its lack of a roof that allowed snow to drift down inside. As he turned back to the Brit, a small shard came away in his hand. In rage, he sent it sailing past Ginge's ear into the cliff face. They all heard the solid thunk of stone hitting metal.
"What!" Ginge spun about in shock. "Throw another!" he cried.
Shielding their eyes against the snow, they watched the trajectory of the second stone, saw it vanish into what appeared to be solid rock, then heard the metallic clang as it thunked into something.
Clutching the horse's reins, Yusuf stepped backwards, close to the reality of the animal's muscular body. "Magic," he firmly announced in his own tongue, his dark eyes wide with fear.
Nick and Ginge hurried to the rock face. The SEAL slowly stretched his hand forward, saw it enter the rock, felt a tingle of energy that made the hairs of his arm stand on end.
"It's a hologram," he announced, turning to the soldier in amazement. "What the hell's a
hologram doing here?"
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