The explosion rocked the area so hard that Barry saw the trees sway right in front of him.
It was the sign he’d been waiting for. It was Ortega’s signal and there was no doubt about it.
Barry pushed his wired up remote control three times, detonating a long series of small charges.
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM.
The trees looked like giants shot dead as they fell to the ground, one at time and perfectly in place.
The Baker team finally had its own LZ, at last, and this time it was the real one.
-
“Explosion: eastbound” said the chopper pilot.
“No, no, negative – said Garner -. That’s not the real LZ, the west one is”
“I’d better tell Cobra then”
“Yes. Maximum coverage”
Then Garner turned to face his gunner and said:
“Dawson, did you see that other series of small explosions, at your six o’clock?”
“Affirmative”
“That's the real LZ”
“Confirmed, and I can see them too. That's right, sir! That's the LZ”
Garner's pilot got on the radio and updated the Phantom and Cobra pilots on the new situation.
The Huey initiated all necessary procedures slowing down and getting closer to both the new LZ and ground team.
Once Garner was close enough to really make out some facial features, he saw a guy that looked so much like Coletta he almost thought he was hallucinating.
Garner had realized that those men were SOG almost from the start, and he’d even seen them use smoke screen codes that only the Baker teams knew. Nevertheless, given that six other SOG teams were missing in action, while others had even started using Baker team signals he just couldn't believe it was actually them.
Yet, there was no mistaking it. That guy seriously looked like Coletta, and what’s more he was even holding an M14 to boot.
Well, I’ll be damned, that sure does look like Coletta. – thought Garner to himself.
Ricardo...
I can’t believe it.
I just can't believe it.
Garner suddenly got a feeling in his gut
He’d known that guy for almost two years so he wanted to be hopeful. Yet at times of war, and especially with that war in particular, hope always ended in suffering. That's why a part of him didn’t want to go ahead and believe it.
At least not yet, anyways.
So whether that was Coletta or not, the guy sporting the M14 was now running towards the open plains like a madman without any kind of cover seemingly immortal.
If Coletta was down there though...
If that guy was really Coletta, then maybe there were other Baker team survivors too.
“Covey leader, do you copy?”
“Go ahead, Garner” responded the colonel.
“Covey leader, I...”
That’s when Garner actually got a look at the others, the entire group to be exact. Hidden among the dense vegetation, they were getting into position before having to move into the open for a Huey pick up. There were quite a few of them too.
Garner stopped briefly to study them further before proceeding with what he had to say via radio.
Yes, Garner recognized at least two other faces among those in the group, and their resemblance to Messner and Krakauer was uncanny. There were two, maybe even three faces he’d never seen before however, who unlike the others actually seemed underfed. They were in far worse shape than the others, in fact even their eyes looked...
Garner realized who those men were or what they were rather, almost instantly.
Those were POWs, for God's sake.
American prisoners of war.
Jesus Christ.
“Covey leader... Christ, okay. Listen, I’m not confirming anything yet, but there’s a chance that those guys may be Baker Team survivors down there. What is more, by the looks of it, I’d say they’ve got two American POWs with them. There may even be three.
A long silence ensued. Garner figured Trautman had lost his voice, from the shock. So he added:
“Whatever the case may be, we’re picking them all up right now, Sir”
-
The radio room personnel following Trautman’s transmission, cried out in joy.
Everyone seemed to jump out from behind their desks excitedly. Trautman however, who couldn’t believe how the events were unfolding, simply collapsed down into his chair.
After all that time (and all those other SOG teams gone missing in action) Trautman just couldn’t bring himself around to believing it. He wouldn’t dare. It would crush him if it turned out to be the contrary.
You’re too close to them– Garner had once told him at Fort Bragg, and he’d been right.
If one of those guys ever doesn’t make it, it'll be hard on you.
Right now it’s the same for me too. We’re too attached.
That’s why I need to ask you this colonel...
If things ever got really bad, could you command just the same? Would you risk their lives the same way you do with everyone else’s?
At the time, Trautman had answered yes without the slightest hesitation. The truth of the matter was however, that Garner had been right. He’d been right on so many other occasions too, which was why Trautman esteemed him as much as he did.
In any case, whether Trautman wanted or not, that team was certainly a masterpiece, but not just his alone. They’d become much more than that.
There were shouts of joy as everyone in the room began redirecting whatever means available, be it teams, planes or choppers, to that triangle in Laos. All the while however, as his surroundings continued to bustle, Trautman did something that he’d rarely done before.
He prayed.
God, I beg of you – prayed Trautman.
Please... Don’t let Garner be wrong about who they are.
Just let it be them.
-
“Some of them are in really bad shape down there” exclaimed Garner. It could end up complicating things.
Actually, it did complicate things; there was no doubt about it.
“Given the state some of them are in, using the ladder out is of the question. God Damn it, we have to go down. We have to touch the fucking ground”
“Roger that” said the pilot.
The other helicopter overtook them but remained in the vicinity in case one chopper wasn’t sufficient. After all, the exact pick up number was still unknown.
The Cobra on the other hand maintained a higher altitude while surveying the entire area.
“Garner... - said the Huey pilot - the Phantoms and the Cobra are asking us if all the personnel is accounted for and the LZ confirmed, or if there are any MIAs.”
“No, they are not all fucking accounted for! Nothing's confirmed yet!”
“Yessir. Hang on back there, we’re going down now!”
-
After Coletta had explored the area’s outskirts outside, was now Danforth ahead of them all just on the side lines of the brand new, dynamite cleared LZ.
It was then and there that he saw the helicopter begin its landing procedures.
It was like a divine apparition, almost celestial.
After all that time, and not knowing whether he’d live or die, he finally had something to believe in.
He shivered like someone was walking on his grave.
Maybe, this time, they really were going home.
His thoughts were interrupted by Coletta, who screamed out desperately from practically half way across the field.
“TEN SECONDS” Coletta bellowed, before firing a couple of warning shots towards the jungle.
Ten seconds – thought Danforth while loading his AK.
Ten fucking seconds before all hell breaks loose
Danforth made everyone get out of their hiding places and then glanced towards where enemies fire was coming from.
They’d have to be fast, incredibly fast.
The time had come and he was ready.
Ready for whatever would happen next.
His self-assuredness brought apprehension about Ortega however, and what must have really happened to him.
If the VCs were coming from the direction they were, then that could only mean they’d broken through Ortega's block point. If they’d passed through Ortega’s block point however, then that had to mean Ortega was dead.
Danforth stomped his foot in rage.
“DAMN IT!” he screamed.
The circumstances called for getting over it immediately however, and so he did
He was their cover, but he didn’t have a whole lot of ammo left. Knowing he couldn’t waste a single bullet, he made sure every shot counted. By that point, the VCs were on the opposite side of the plains which left him just enough time to shoot to kill. They were barely a stone throw from Coletta’s checkpoint as he took aim, so if they did not somehow hold them back, the LZ would be at risk.
-
Precisely ten seconds later, Delmore, Krakauer and Messner each loaded a prisoner on their backs, and made a run for the helicopter, which was on the point of touching down.
Delmore was the last one to leave.
He ran all the way past Danforth, dropped of his prisoner, went back to take Danforth’s place and started shooting.
By that point, the Huey had landed.
Danforth and Messner threw themselves along with Johnson and Ruckerson onto the helicopter where Garner was keeping cover M16 in hand.
“Garner?!” Messner said with a weak voice, but Garner didn’t bother t to reply. He was on the radio to one person and talking to his pilot all at the same time. As he dealt with them both, his eyes shifted back and forth probing the entire area.
“WHERE THE FUCK IS COBRA? WHERE THE FUCK IS IT?” the gunner screamed at the top of his lungs to Messner, obviously irate, and rightly so, as he helped the hostages get on.
I guess it wasn’t time for the victory lap just yet. Not even by a long shot.
Snapping out of it, Messner signalled the prisoners to lie down on the helicopter floor. Once they’d done so directly below the gunner, he spring hooked them so they wouldn’t fly overboard once they lifted off. Satisfied Messner had gotten the point, the gunner went back to his M60.
That's better – thought Messner.
Because we may be low now, but once we’re a few maters above the trees, we’ll need that damn sixty for sure.
-
Coletta fired his last shot with his M14 and then tossed it because it was too long for the soon-to-be-overcrowded Huey. Not a second later, he started running like hell for the helicopter.
He ran across the plain as fast as he could, even passing Delmore who had gone back to cover him. Once he got to the Huey, he jumped on so fast not paying the least bit attention to where he was actually going.
In fact, once on, Coletta banged his head against the steel door knocking himself right over and onto Messner, Krakauer, the gunner and even the prisoners.
Almost per que, there was suddenly a long bang resembling an avalanche or something.
Looking up in panic, through the Huey's open door he caught sight of the Cobra attack chopper hoovering precisely above them.
He stared as its machinegun spun around spitting out a cascade of shells all around it as it did.
The white tracer beaming out of the barrel was as stable as a laser. Despite the lethargic speed in which it shifted from right to left, it was onehandedly deforesting the dense jungle opposite the plain.
Holy shit – thought Coletta watching the cartridge cases drop in front of him like water pouring from a faucet.
Delmore was the last one left and now it was his turn.
He turned to shoot one last time letting another couple of rounds of his AK go off and then tossed it.
“COME ON!” screamed out Coletta.
“COME ON! COME ON” everyone else echoed.
Despite the bullet storm coming out of the Cobra, which coincidentally was already changing position, VC heads started popping up on the plain’s outskirts.
Delmore ran even faster, desperate almost
Now he’s gonna get himself killed – thought Coletta to himself.
The helicopter had begun its lift off and was at least a foot high off the ground by then.
“WAIT” shouted Messner, worried the helicopter would take off without Barry.
The coloured guy almost tripped but managed to jump not once, but twice, and the second looked like a long jump. He was so far away however, that when he eventually landed from this last jump it was quite violently on top of everyone else.
Multiple hands shot out instantly to hold him tight and everyone else started shouting.
“GO, GO, GO”
The engine revved straightaway and the blades went faster tilting the chopper to one side lifting it.
“NO! OH GOD NO! LOOK OVER THERE! THERE!” screamed Chester, stretching his arm out and pointing.
They all turned.
It's difficult to say why no one on the Baker team had noticed him whereas Chester had. Perhaps it had been because they were all staring towards the plain’s outskirts. Whatever the reason, as soon as Chester screamed they all noticed at the same time.
“ORTEGA!” bellowed Danforth.
In the heat of the moment, the vice-leader let out Ortega's real name.
Ortega had lived through the fight with the Vietcong. He sure had.
He’d gotten through their lines without being seen and had kept out of the Cobra’s line of fire. He’d subsisted it all and was now tearing towards a helicopter that was practically six feet above the ground.
“PILOT! PILOT! PILOT!” shouted Danforth.
“THE LADDER! THROW THE LADDER OUT!”
“Fuck! Is there another one?” yelled the pilot in bewilderment.
“HE’S ONE OF MY MEN, GOD DAMN IT!” screamed Garner back
“PILOT! THERE'S ONE MORE THERE! THE LADDER!”
The pilot rose his thumb three times.
“Yeah, we can do it. LADDER OUT! LADDER OUT!”
The ladder was rolled up tight inside one of the panels underneath them and getting it loose was nothing short of a fight in itself.
“Cover him! Cover him! Cover him!” exclaimed Krakauer.
“Give me that” said Coletta.
The selected sharpshooter took the M60 out of their gunner’s hands and pointed it down below.
He then took a deep breath and began to aim in the calmest of manner.
When he finally pulled the trigger, the Vietcong on Ortega’s heels stopped abruptly and fell face first to the ground.
Without further delay, Coletta redirected his aim.
“ORTEGA” they all shouted in unison.
Danforth had given away his real name so they were all using it at that point.
“COME ON ORTEGA!”
“COME ON! COME ON!”
At that point, the helicopter was fifteen feet above the ground but the ladder, which was far longer than that, was still dragging along
Ortega still had a chance.
“COME ON, COME ON, COME ON”
They were all yelling, even the pilot, despite not having a visual on Ortega’s actual whereabouts.
The Cobra that was now hoovering next to the Huey, seemed to notice Ortega unexpectedly.
The moment it did however, it turned so violently in his direction that it almost turned on itself.
Virtually facing Ortega, it unleashed a hailstorm of bullets so close behind him that they only just missed him.
Despite all their efforts, there was still an incessant number of VC on Ortega’s heels as he continued running almost entirely out in the open without cover. As if that wasn’t enough however, there was still the fact that once he actually got onto the ladder and hung on, it would make him the perfect target.
In the meantime, Coletta kept on shooting single shots. Notwithstanding how slow it seemed he was actually shooting, he had already taken down more of the enemy than the Cobra itself.
No one had ever seen an M60 get used like that before.
Ortega was able to get some distance between him and his pursuers.
The Vietcong preferred falling behind in exchange for cover given that the Cobra was covering him. The attack helicopter lifted its nose a bit, just the necessary to miss Ortega, and promptly shifted its weapon system to explosive rockets.
“COME ON ORTEGA! COME ON!”
By the time Ortega finally reached them, more or less a step away from the ladder, his face was thunderstruck and his eyes practically bulging out of his head.
He jumped onto the ladder and clutched on with all his might.
Feeling the rebound from Ortega's bodyweight, the pilot accelerated upward instantly.
“GO! GO! GO!” they shouted in chorus, even if the Huey was already lifting off.
-
Ortega held the ladder just between his armpit and elbow and hung on as tight as he could. At first, the chopper dragged him along for a couple of feet but it went up soon after.
In fact, not even a second later, he was already a meter and a half above the ground.
At that point, he was overcome by a sense of confusion.
Everything went surreal, somewhat dreamlike.
It's a dream – he thought, while bullets whistled past him and he got higher and higher.
it has to be a dream, it couldn’t be otherwise.
The two choppers left together but stayed relatively low to avoid becoming easy targets. The Cobra stayed behind however acting as their cover.
When Ortega was next to the Cobra, naturally still hanging from the ladder, he was so close that he felt the air blow out of its machinegun.
Holy Shit.
A second later, the trees were slowly swaying beneath him
He knew couldn't just hang there and that the sooner he went up that damn ladder, the better it was, but when he took his first step he got sharp pains in his arms and shoulder paralyzing him.
He couldn't do it.
He just couldn't pull himself up. The effort to get out of the river had been too much and the pain wasn’t helping any either.
He gave it another try but this time he screamed in pain, but again with no avail. He didn’t have enough control over his arms to do it.
Then he thought that maybe staying there was for the better, and little did he know that it would be that very thought to save his life shortly after.
In fact, Ortega grabbed the spring hook they always carried near their shoulder and fastened it to one of the ladder's steps, and right after he did, a sniper bullet went through his arm into his chest.
In reality, Ortega had neither heard nor felt anything apart from a spasm which could’ve easily been an electric shock. Then his vision turned blurry like a white cloud.
He tried fighting the pain and shock but his legs suddenly became wobbly, his sight blurred and he passed out full weight onto the spring hook.
His gear immediately tightened all around him so violently that it nearly squeezed him to death but it did hold his weight. That was, after all, precisely the kind of circumstances it was designed for.
When Ortega regained consciousness, his sight may have been blurry, but he was still alive and ticking.
Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t fallen off and splattered onto the ground.
Everything was becoming distant and blurry again though.
He was about to lose consciousness again and that wasn’t good because maybe, this time, he wouldn’t wake up.
Maybe his injury was life threatening.
Maybe he was dying.
When everything turned dark, Ortega wondered if it might be the darkness of death indeed.
He glanced down, looking at nothing, but it was all out of focus and he could barely just make out the outline of the jungle trees that passed hurriedly by.
Stay awake.
Stay awake
They were flying so fast that blood seemed to spray out of him the way it would from a spray can.
Just how much fucking blood am I losing?
Don’t fall asleep.
Stay awake.
The pain got sharper, burning almost, and was becoming unbearable fast, but again, he knew that was a good thing.
Pain meant that he’d live at least a few more hours. Yeah right, that’s it.
A soldier knows that feeling pain is a good sign.
As a result, Ortega resigned to just staying there, attached to the ladder and bleeding in the sky. Right overhead however, the rather confused gunner kept trying to look down hoping to get an understanding of what the hell was actually going on.
-
“They hit him” said the gunner who, in the meantime, had changed his position and was presently beside the winch.
Messner tried looking down below too but without any luck.
The entire team strained to stretch out and see for themselves, but it was impossible because of the fastenings that secured them.
Messner exchanged looks with Delmore, and it was enough.
All at once, the five Baker team soldiers grabbed onto each other's belt and held tight, and when they were ready, Messner unfastened his spring hook and stretched right out of the Huey as the human chain held him up from above.
“Yup, he's been shot – said Messner -. I can see a lot of blood. All the same, he is trying to hold himself up and seems conscious”
-
The Cobra caught up to the two Hueys, but instead of getting into their usual formation, it nosedove down to get at eye level with Ortega.
The pilot was wearing the usual green helmet with a dark visor. His visor was down so you couldn’t see his eyes, but once parallel to Ortega, he shifted his sights over to him. The Baker team leader’s head was off to one side bobbing up and down and his eyes were half-closed. His hands were reaching for the ladder, but to absolutely no avail because the wind gusts kept pushing them aside.
His blood was still spraying out of him the same way it would from a spray can.
Nevertheless, he was conscious.
Consequently therefore, he was still alive.
-
On board the Huey, Garner turned around to face the others and shouted:
“The Cobra right below us says that Ortega has been hit in the arm, but that he is conscious”
Everyone exchanged looks but there was nothing they could do. Not right there and then anyways.
They were still too close to the Vietcong to do anything useful. They had to get out of there, and fast.
Then the pilot went on to add:
“We are going to pull him up in... (Checking his watch) exactly one minute. One minute!”