Coletta popped out of the vegetation right in front of Danforth and Ortega.
He was out of breath.
“It's a disaster boss: they are all over the place and heading in this direction”
“But have they actually located us or not?”
“Oh, man... You can be as sure as hell they have”
“Any potential LZs?”
“Two possibilities: one North and one West. Neither one will be easy though, and the West one even needs to be cleared with explosives first”
“Are the charges in place though?” Danforth intervened.
“Yeah, they are, it’s done”
“How about the radio, is there any news on that?”
“Nothing yet” replied Messner.
“I think we may be low on batteries though”
Ortega bent down to get his AK and rucksack.
“What about the best LZ?”
“The west one”
Ortega looked West in consideration even though nothing could be seen from there.
In fact, he turned to face a wall of leaves and dense vegetation.
His eyes filled with anger because he was just fed up
He really couldn't stand it anymore.
He was at the end of his tether both mentally and physically, and for the first time in his life he thought about giving up in case he really lost it and exploded. Maybe it was time to put Danforth in command, or at least, just long enough to recover from that damn crossing.
Just for a bit – he thought.
Just for a bit.
In the end, he chose not to because he was more than capable of holding command.
He head was working just fine.
Therefore, he spoke up and said:
“Eagle, give me the rucksack with the left over explosives in it”
“What do you need it for?”
“Confirm the West LZ to the team, and wait for my signal before moving them all out”
“But boss...”
“If I don't get back, you’re in charge”
“There's no need to do this, boss” Danforth said.
“Go. Get outta here right, now. Get the fuck out of my sight, all of you”
Danforth turned to leave almost instantly whereas Coletta stayed put where he was.
“Is this because of Lowell?” he asked Ortega directly.
“Shut up, Sniper”
“There was nothing else you could do boss”
Ortega looked away and went on checking his gear since he’d just altered the setup.
“Don't get yourself killed”
“And you, you just think about your next fucking move soldier”
Coletta shook his head.
“You are out of your mind right now. We’ll be waiting for you in any case”
Coletta turned and walked back to the rest of the group.
-
When he was finally alone, Ortega put the explosives in his rucksack while the others set out for the West LZ.
It was likely that the VCs already knew of all the pre-existing LZs in the vicinity. It obviously didn’t take a genius to understand where a Huey could essentially land or not.
Clearly they couldn’t get picked up on just any old, run of the mill LZ whatsoever. No, that was out of the question. They’d have to conjure one up just West of here, all on their own. The best part about that though was that the VCs definitely wouldn’t have expected anything similar.
Once his equipment was ready, Ortega moved swiftly from tree to tree, gliding from one shadow to the next.
He was getting his strength back, at last.
Little by little, he was getting all his agility back even if he did still have sharp pains in his shoulder.
His shoulder wasn’t the real problem however.
Ortega may have been pain struck, but what he felt most was anger with himself for all the wrong moves he’d made till then.
If they’d been attacked then and there, Ortega wouldn’t just have fought the enemy. No, he wouldn’t have stopped there. He was ready to die and as far as he was concerned, dying was the right thing to do. Truth be told, Ortega wasn’t thinking straight anymore. You have to keep in mind that Ortega had slept an average of two hours a night for the past two weeks and had probably lost at least fifteen pounds.
He may have been 'gone' and not thinking straight, but well aware of it nevertheless because of all the training he’d received.
Fundamentally, the problem was that he was tired of thinking on behalf of his squad. Nonetheless, it was the wrong kind of attitude to have given his role on the team. All the same, right then and there, he didn’t want to think through everything for everyone, but craved just going out there to fight.
In fact, now that it was nearly over, just that one time he only wanted to think about fighting.
That went against everything he and the others had always believed in, but he did not care.
In the meantime, the Hueys had gotten their attack underway.
Ortega heard the roaring sound of a machinegun firing off rounds and rockets exploding. Maybe one of the two Hueys was a gunship or perhaps a Cobra with heavy artillery had just joined the party.
It was hard to tell.
No matter which ones they were, the commotion they made was hellish even at that distance and it let Ortega run around without worrying about the noise he was making.
It wasn’t far now to the 'fake' LZ which he’d be defending purely as a decoy to divert attention from the real one.
Ortega stopped on the outskirts of the planes to study the area more thoroughly.
The Vietcong were probably watching the perimeter already so Ortega asked himself were they could be hiding.
Not even a moment later, he’d already sited his first two snipers.
There they are, those assholes – he thought.
Unfuckingbelievable.
They were waiting in position and somewhat camouflaged although not very well.
A third man held watch from a treetop as he was sitting on a kind of rope chair that hung from a branch.
Ortega took a few steps back making sure the shadows sufficiently hid his position.
Luckily, he’d seen them first and not vice versa so he was careful not to push his luck.
They would have problems if one of the two Hueys hovered over the real LZ because then the VCs would have run towards it and shot at the prisoners.
That's why Ortega had to kill them all, and now.
He didn’t have any other choice.
Lucky – he thought.
Lucky I came to check.
Ortega crouched down behind a tree, laid the cartridges, grenades and the rucksack full of explosives down in front of him in an orderly fashion.
Then he opened up the rucksack: four claymores, two losses: Rambo and Jorghenson.
Actually, make that three – he said correcting himself by adding his name to the list.
Fuck you all.
He then picked up the virtually empty rucksack and he threw it as far as he could, right smack in the middle of those VC snipers.
The instant he did, they started screaming back and forth to each other like crazy. The one on the top of the tree even tried to get down off his ropes.
Ortega opened fire.
He mowed the first two down with great ease, by blowing their heads into little red blood-filled clouds.
Then, he turned and took a shot at the one up in the tree as he stumbled to get down.
You should have jumped sooner, asshole – thought Ortega aiming straight for his heart.
The sniper fell backwards and head down as he hung from the ropes dead.
Then, what may have been an entire regiment appeared in front of Ortega’s very eyes.
Great – thought Ortega.
Move in on me, you assholes.
Come on everybody; move on in, after all, this is our LZ.
Ortega got down low in his hole and aimed.
Now – he thought to himself.
He shot at his rucksack, blowing away what was left of the Baker team's C4.
There sure was a lot of C4, boy was there ever.