Cold Hatred (Book 2 & 3 of the Damned of the 2/19th) -Updated and Rewritten

Cold Hatred Part: 22

"How strange it must have been

for Bravo 3/67 to listen to that

radio call and the chilling phrase

'will transmit to final' that we

called out when it got desperate?

How hard was it for them to listen

to that desperate battle, unable to

do anything but listen?"

2/19th Special Weapons Group
Restricted Area, Alfenwehr West Germany
Late Winter- January, 1986
Day 12 of Repairs
Day 4 of the Second Incident
Morning

Taller than me. Bulkier than me. Mickey Mouse boots, cold weather pants, and insulated leather gloves. Wrapped in an extreme cold weather parka, the hood up. An extreme cold weather mask hiding his face, the mouth strap unsnapped to reveal his mouth.

One eye was bloodshot, both were glaring, and the snarl behind the mask was missing a tooth.

When Dobbs had been thrown against the wall she'd glanced Stokes, who was already off balance because of the ice and the radio, and Stokes had landed flat on her ass. While Bomber, Nancy and I raised our weapons, she lifted her feet, planted her hands to either side of her, and slammed both boots against the door.

As the figure's axe came up, the heavy steel door slammed in his face and all three of us fired a couple shots into the heavy steel door.

"Grab Dobbs! Bomber, unlock the room," I shouted, reaching down and grabbing up Dobbs by the back of her LBE. She gave out a cry of pain as I pulled her up, and King threw one of her arms over his shoulder.

"Jesus, that hurt," she coughed.

"Don't talk," King said. "Save your strength."

"Who the fuck was that?" Artain asked.

"A dead man," Nancy snapped. "He shouldn't be here."

"He looked plenty alive to me," Artain shot back.

Bomber was unlocking the door, pushing it open and hurrying us into the room.

"Get her on the bed, hurry, hurry," Nancy was saying, darting into the bathroom. I heard the sink go on as we dragged a cursing Dobbs into the room and set her on the bed. She cried out when her back hit the mattress, her arm still around her stomach.

"Lemme see," I said, pulling her arm away.

"Fucking hurts," she groaned, suddenly coughing and bringing up blood.

I stripped open her LBE, tore open her Kevlar vest, and unzipped her field jacket.

"How bad is she, Ant?" Nancy called out. I heard something gurgle when the water was shut off.

"I can't tell." I yelled back. I pulled up her BDU top and T-shirt, exposing her belly.

Bomber was telling everyone where to go. Flipping up the desk to block the hallway, flipping the bunk beds and dropping the mattress in front of the other one, tearing it down as quick as possible to provide some cover.

Pulling up Dobbs T-shirt and BDU let me get a good look at where that axe had hit her.

Her skin was unmarred.

"How bad?" Dobbs asked. "Goddamn it, I bit my tongue."

Nancy pushed me out of the way, then drew back. "What the hell?" She pulled Dobbs gear together, finding the Claymore bag she'd hung around her neck. She dumped the bag out and the shattered landmine fell from inside the bag. The hard plastic casing, the cast resin, all shattered by the blow.