as it
circled higher and higher overhead. Sally backed away from her slowly, holding her fingers in her ears.
There was no explosion—only a whistle as the four-foot missile was launched from its carrying tube. Twenty feet above the
ground, the missile’s main motor took over from its booster and the projectile shot toward its target at supersonic speed.
The two women and the recruits watched the missile streak up to the plane, now very high above them. Five seconds passed,
and the streaking dart of high explosives was almost upon its prey when the aircraft dipped its right wing and tumbled out
of its flight path.
The missile quivered in midflight, but its force drove iton past the plane. The projectile rose a little higher, slowed and then dropped like a spent arrow.
“He saw it coming,” Gabriela said through her teeth. “We have another, but he’s near three thousand meters—almost out of range—as
it is.” She pointed to one of the recruits. “You, take this norteamericana away from here. Keep her out in the open, away
from the trees.”
Before Sally could protest, the recruit grabbed her by the left wrist and dragged her after him to the edge of the pine forest.
She heard the distant explosion of the Redeye missile hitting the ground and felt the heat of the sun beat down on her as
they left the shade of the trees. She followed the recruit down a slope, half-running and half-falling after him, dragged
by one arm. He stopped, pushed her down behind a large rock and lay on the ground beside her, looking fearfully up at the
sky. The push-pull observation plane continued to circle high above the location of the camp.
A green drab military jet screamed low over their heads, and its racing shadow on the ground passed over them.
A huge billow of flame—blue and white at its core, radiating out to boiling orange with black smoke fringes—lifted giant pines
by their roots high into the at. Second and third blasts followed the first in quick succession.
The jet disappeared, but the 0-2 came in on a wide circle to inspect the damage. The entire part of the forest where the camp
had been was now a roaring fire that was spreading with the wind up the mountain slope. Apparently satisfied with the results,
the push-pull plane completed only one pass and flew away.
Sally and the recruit, whose name was Miguel, waited until the fire burned itself out. They ran among the charred trunks,
across thick smoldering beds of dead pine needles, to where the tents had been. Trees were still burning around the first
bomb crater, and were it not for the cooling breeze from behind their backs, they could not have stood the heat all about
them.
They kept moving, running from one less scorched place to another, smeared now with ash and carbon, sweat seeping from every
pore of their bodies. There were big flames in the trees higher up the slope as the fire moved uphill away from them, with
loud crackling sounds of its burning and choking smoke floating everywhere. They could not find where the tents had been.
“Look!” Miguel pointed.
The bodies lay about the blackened forest floor with only fragments of burnt cloth adhering to their scorched flesh. The smell
of cooked meat revolted Sally as much as the sight of the charred corpses, but she forced herself to walk among them with
Miguel. She knew that none could possibly be alive, but felt she owed it to Gabriela to look for her, on the remote chance,
somehow, something… She did not know what, and went on looking.
Sally found the empty Redeye missile tube that Gabriela had fired. Another tube, this one loaded, lay next to a body charred
beyond recognition—burned even beyond her being able to tell whether it was male or female. The guerrilla fighters wore no
dog tags. Sally could not bring herself to move the flame-shriveled human remains with her foot in order to examine the corpse
more closely. She felt cold and empty—too
circled higher and higher overhead. Sally backed away from her slowly, holding her fingers in her ears.
There was no explosion—only a whistle as the four-foot missile was launched from its carrying tube. Twenty feet above the
ground, the missile’s main motor took over from its booster and the projectile shot toward its target at supersonic speed.
The two women and the recruits watched the missile streak up to the plane, now very high above them. Five seconds passed,
and the streaking dart of high explosives was almost upon its prey when the aircraft dipped its right wing and tumbled out
of its flight path.
The missile quivered in midflight, but its force drove iton past the plane. The projectile rose a little higher, slowed and then dropped like a spent arrow.
“He saw it coming,” Gabriela said through her teeth. “We have another, but he’s near three thousand meters—almost out of range—as
it is.” She pointed to one of the recruits. “You, take this norteamericana away from here. Keep her out in the open, away
from the trees.”
Before Sally could protest, the recruit grabbed her by the left wrist and dragged her after him to the edge of the pine forest.
She heard the distant explosion of the Redeye missile hitting the ground and felt the heat of the sun beat down on her as
they left the shade of the trees. She followed the recruit down a slope, half-running and half-falling after him, dragged
by one arm. He stopped, pushed her down behind a large rock and lay on the ground beside her, looking fearfully up at the
sky. The push-pull observation plane continued to circle high above the location of the camp.
A green drab military jet screamed low over their heads, and its racing shadow on the ground passed over them.
A huge billow of flame—blue and white at its core, radiating out to boiling orange with black smoke fringes—lifted giant pines
by their roots high into the at. Second and third blasts followed the first in quick succession.
The jet disappeared, but the 0-2 came in on a wide circle to inspect the damage. The entire part of the forest where the camp
had been was now a roaring fire that was spreading with the wind up the mountain slope. Apparently satisfied with the results,
the push-pull plane completed only one pass and flew away.
Sally and the recruit, whose name was Miguel, waited until the fire burned itself out. They ran among the charred trunks,
across thick smoldering beds of dead pine needles, to where the tents had been. Trees were still burning around the first
bomb crater, and were it not for the cooling breeze from behind their backs, they could not have stood the heat all about
them.
They kept moving, running from one less scorched place to another, smeared now with ash and carbon, sweat seeping from every
pore of their bodies. There were big flames in the trees higher up the slope as the fire moved uphill away from them, with
loud crackling sounds of its burning and choking smoke floating everywhere. They could not find where the tents had been.
“Look!” Miguel pointed.
The bodies lay about the blackened forest floor with only fragments of burnt cloth adhering to their scorched flesh. The smell
of cooked meat revolted Sally as much as the sight of the charred corpses, but she forced herself to walk among them with
Miguel. She knew that none could possibly be alive, but felt she owed it to Gabriela to look for her, on the remote chance,
somehow, something… She did not know what, and went on looking.
Sally found the empty Redeye missile tube that Gabriela had fired. Another tube, this one loaded, lay next to a body charred
beyond recognition—burned even beyond her being able to tell whether it was male or female. The guerrilla fighters wore no
dog tags. Sally could not bring herself to move the flame-shriveled human remains with her foot in order to examine the corpse
more closely. She felt cold and empty—too
Similar Books
