Code 61 - Donald Harstad [156]
The beauty of the IR searchlight is that people can't see it without a night scope of their own. Wily, those Russians.
Sally had a hand on my raincoat as I slowly threaded my way into the ravine. The rocks, which had been slippery the other day, were like greased marble now. It was very slow going.
“I can't see shit,” said Sally.
“Good thing,” I said. “Stop here.”
She did. “What for?”
“He's got to be down the ravine from us,” I said.
“Let me watch for a few seconds. I think I should be able to pick up movement.” I must have watched for a good fifteen seconds, which seemed like forever. Nothing. No sound, no sign of Chester.
“See him?”
“Nope. Nothing.”
“Can I,” asked Sally, “take a peek at where we're going? It'd help.”
Good idea. As we were transferring possession of the night scope, there was a rattling among the rocks somewhere below us. We fumbled the scope, and I heard it hit what sounded like a wet branch, and then a sharp click as it struck a rock.
“Shit.”
“Sorry, I'm sorry,” said Sally.
“You got a flashlight?” I asked, disgusted with my self.
“Yeah, a Mini-Mag, in here somewhere…. ” And I heard the sound of her raincoat being unzipped and pulled about as she tried to find a path to her utility belt.
“Not your fault,” I said, waiting for her to hand me the light. I wasn't going to move, because my only orientation for finding the night scope was the knowledge that it was just about straight down from my feet.
I saw the glow of her little flashlight still inside her raincoat. She must have hit the switch. She was about to cast light all over the place as she brought it out.
“No! Turn it off!” I whispered as loudly as I could.
She tried, she really did. I think she reached her other hand inside the twisted raincoat to try to turn the light off without fumbling it, too. In doing so, she lost her balance, and disappeared with a thud and a bump and a rush of raincoat against branches.
It was thunderously quiet.
“Shit, Houseman” came a faint voice. “I fell.”
“You okay?”
“No.”
I slowly bent my knees, hanging on to a branch. I had no idea whether I was on a large rock, or just a small one, and I sure as hell didn't think I'd help Sally if I came crashing down on her.
“What's wrong?”
“My butt hurts,” she said.
“You still got that flashlight?”
“Yeah.”
“Go ahead and turn it on,” I said. “We gotta get you up.”
The light came on right beneath me. She had fallen about four feet.
“Anything else hurt?” I asked.
“Just my butt,” she said. She slowly got to her feet, which brought her head to about the level of my knees. “Everything else seems fine.”
Although the rock I was standing on was pretty big, I was about three inches from the edge. I took about a half step back, and said, “As long as you're down there, see if you can find the scope.”
She shone the light downward, and said, “Got it.” She reached down and handed it up to me.
I laid it on my rock, and reached down with my left hand. “Grab hold, and I'll get you up here. Turn off the light before I pull, okay?”
She did. I counted three, heaved, and up she came.
I peered through the night scope as soon as she was stable on the rocks. It still worked. One thing about Red Army gear, it's known for being rugged. I panned down the ravine. Nothing.
“See anything?”
“Nope. Even if he didn't hear us, he's long gone.” I decided a little more noise didn't really matter. “See if you can reach Borman,” I said. “See what he's got down at the bottom of this ravine.”
She did. He reported that all he could see was what he thought was a car. I guessed he still had his lights off. At least he was getting better at following instructions.
“Tell him we're on the way down, and we think the suspect is ahead of us.”
She did, and we began moving down the ravine again.