of another.
He moved to Tom and whispered, “Choppers.”
His eyes flew open, he sat up and listened. After a while he said, “One of three things is happening. They're hunting us with heat sensors, dropping teams off to look for us, or they're scouting and looking for campfires. Let's hope it's fires they're looking for. Any difference in the pitch of the birds?”
“Nope, continuous so far.”
“I think they're looking for campfires, because it's cold and good hypothermia weather. I think we're safe enough, for now anyway.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Nothing, and we'll stay where we are. They may not catch our heat but if we move, all it would take is one Russian wearing night vision goggles to see us, especially if we're out in the open. Listen and let me know if the pitch changes.”
“Will do.” John said and then went back to eating his meal.
The night was uneventful, but wet. At dawn, John allowed a modest fire, about the size of a coffee cup, so they could have some hot drinks and food, if they wanted to take the time. Margie was guarding near the road and all were huddled close to the fire, when they heard a laugh.
Everyone scattered into the trees, so John used the toe of his boot to push mud onto the flames of the small fire. The smoke blended well with the fog, but he worried about the smell. He knew the smell of a fire could be carried a long way by winds. He then took Dolly and moved behind a large oak log.
He heard what sounded like a question in Russian and then silence. He whispered to Dolly, “Stay and hush.” John slipped the safety off his weapon and waited, his tension growing by the second. If they smell our smoke, we're goin' to have a fight.
Two Russian voices were heard near the trail and by the tone used, they seemed to be arguing over something. It must be the smell of our smoke , John thought.
A third voice, louder than the other two was heard and the talk stopped immediately. He heard the sound of metal hitting metal, but they moved south.
Ten full minutes passed before Margie appeared and Joshua went to take her place by the trail. Moving to her, John asked, “What'd you see?”
“Squad of ten Russians moving down our back trail. I'm not sure why they stopped, but I could smell the smoke from our fire, only it was faint. I suspect they picked up the smoke smell, too. They stopped, a couple argued about something, and then an officer must have told them to shut up, I guess. After that, they continued south, away from us, without another word. They had one man on point and another bringing up the rear, for a total of ten men. I'm tellin' you, it scared the living hell out of me.”
Tom gazed into John's eyes and said, “I suspect the choppers we heard last night served two purposes. One, to deliver men to search for us and two, to look for campfires. I think they must have dropped teams in advance of us, hoping we'd run into them.”
“If we'd left at our normal time, an hour before dawn, we'd have ran right into them.” John felt a shudder go through his body.
“Well, we didn't, so don't worry about it. I suggest we stay off the trails, move west, overland, and try to find a staging area.”
Joshua asked, “Near Edwards?”
“Yep, why?” John asked as he donned his pack.
“My daddy owned some land near there and we grew cotton. The roof of the house has caved in, collapsed the same year as the fall, but there is a cellar there. Not huge, but plenty big enough for us, all our gear, and then some. That is, if it's not been destroyed already.”
“Close to Edwards?”
“I'd guess three miles south of the place and then east a bit, oh, maybe two more miles.”
Tom pulled a map from his coat, opened it and said, “We're right here. Edwards is here, so where is this plantation of yours?”
Grinning, Joshua said, “It ain't a plantation and never was, but the place is right here.” He pointed on the
He moved to Tom and whispered, “Choppers.”
His eyes flew open, he sat up and listened. After a while he said, “One of three things is happening. They're hunting us with heat sensors, dropping teams off to look for us, or they're scouting and looking for campfires. Let's hope it's fires they're looking for. Any difference in the pitch of the birds?”
“Nope, continuous so far.”
“I think they're looking for campfires, because it's cold and good hypothermia weather. I think we're safe enough, for now anyway.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Nothing, and we'll stay where we are. They may not catch our heat but if we move, all it would take is one Russian wearing night vision goggles to see us, especially if we're out in the open. Listen and let me know if the pitch changes.”
“Will do.” John said and then went back to eating his meal.
The night was uneventful, but wet. At dawn, John allowed a modest fire, about the size of a coffee cup, so they could have some hot drinks and food, if they wanted to take the time. Margie was guarding near the road and all were huddled close to the fire, when they heard a laugh.
Everyone scattered into the trees, so John used the toe of his boot to push mud onto the flames of the small fire. The smoke blended well with the fog, but he worried about the smell. He knew the smell of a fire could be carried a long way by winds. He then took Dolly and moved behind a large oak log.
He heard what sounded like a question in Russian and then silence. He whispered to Dolly, “Stay and hush.” John slipped the safety off his weapon and waited, his tension growing by the second. If they smell our smoke, we're goin' to have a fight.
Two Russian voices were heard near the trail and by the tone used, they seemed to be arguing over something. It must be the smell of our smoke , John thought.
A third voice, louder than the other two was heard and the talk stopped immediately. He heard the sound of metal hitting metal, but they moved south.
Ten full minutes passed before Margie appeared and Joshua went to take her place by the trail. Moving to her, John asked, “What'd you see?”
“Squad of ten Russians moving down our back trail. I'm not sure why they stopped, but I could smell the smoke from our fire, only it was faint. I suspect they picked up the smoke smell, too. They stopped, a couple argued about something, and then an officer must have told them to shut up, I guess. After that, they continued south, away from us, without another word. They had one man on point and another bringing up the rear, for a total of ten men. I'm tellin' you, it scared the living hell out of me.”
Tom gazed into John's eyes and said, “I suspect the choppers we heard last night served two purposes. One, to deliver men to search for us and two, to look for campfires. I think they must have dropped teams in advance of us, hoping we'd run into them.”
“If we'd left at our normal time, an hour before dawn, we'd have ran right into them.” John felt a shudder go through his body.
“Well, we didn't, so don't worry about it. I suggest we stay off the trails, move west, overland, and try to find a staging area.”
Joshua asked, “Near Edwards?”
“Yep, why?” John asked as he donned his pack.
“My daddy owned some land near there and we grew cotton. The roof of the house has caved in, collapsed the same year as the fall, but there is a cellar there. Not huge, but plenty big enough for us, all our gear, and then some. That is, if it's not been destroyed already.”
“Close to Edwards?”
“I'd guess three miles south of the place and then east a bit, oh, maybe two more miles.”
Tom pulled a map from his coat, opened it and said, “We're right here. Edwards is here, so where is this plantation of yours?”
Grinning, Joshua said, “It ain't a plantation and never was, but the place is right here.” He pointed on the
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