Time/Date Error (Damned of the 2/19th-Book Six) - Done

Westlin's Whispers

2/19th Special Weapons Group Area
Secure Area, Alfenwehr
West Germany
29 October, 1987
2300 Hours

The night was freezing cold. My ears popped as soon as I pulled back the oiled tarp and the pressure equalized. I pushed my way out and looked around. The stars were needle bright in the sky, the moon large and crystal clear, as I looked up to see that the sky was clear again. I stood up, my boots fitting with the ice climbing cleats, the painpill letting me move my knee a lot easier, ignore the flaring pain.

It was grinding inside, that sensation had been hidden behind the flaring pain. My thigh hurt every time I put weight on it, hurt worse than it had. My hip ground when I moved my leg, and I wondered if the padding inside of the hip that the thigh bone rotated against was torn or damaged. Another step, and the pain flared in my knee, thigh, and hip.

Yeah, there was something wrong with my left leg.

If I survived, I'd check in with the doctors, get it X-rayed and checked.

Probably when I asked for my furlough to get my head straight. I'd be sent to Blackbriar Ridge for long term psychiatric evaluation and observation, that would be the perfect time to ask them to check out my hip, knee, thigh, and shoulder.

"You really going to drop from the program, Ant?" Westlin asked.

I shook my head. "No. Just ask for my furlough. I've done more than three years in Special Weapons in a hardship posting, I'm eligible, and I need to step away from it all."

She laughed. "Do you really think Blackbriar will let you leave here, Ant?"

I shrugged as I tromped across the ice. I'd checked the thickness of the ice sheet when I'd climbed out. It was nearly a foot thick. Soft ice under a hard brittle surface. That was dangerous as hell, and I knew it.

There was nearly forty feet of snow under the ice, held in place by the ice. If the sheet cracked far enough, if there was a big enough shift under the ice pack, it would cause an avalanche that would just bury everything in its path almost to Main Post.

That gave me an idea. I had a bunch of 40mm HE grenades on the bandoleer. If worse came to worse I could break the ice sheet back toward the ridge, fire off a few toward the far edge, and see if it made everything slide.

Plus, I had C-4 back in the tower, almost thirty pounds worth. I knew where det-cord was. I could rig an avalanche pretty easily. It would sweep most of the snow off the Group Area, but nothing important if the berm worked to keep the snow from sweeping away the vehicles.

In reality, the snow would probably pull the vehicles with it.

It was an option.

I'd do that before I popped off the nukes to keep them out of any Soviet force's hands.

"Well, that's definitely a Kurt Russel option," Westlin laughed.

"If I have to, I'll destroy the barracks just like I plan on taking out the chow hall and took out the motor pool bays," I told her. She laughed at that. "Henley said: extreme prejudice. That will fit the definition for sure."

Westlin laughed again.

"Leave your mouth covered, Ant," Westlin told me. "Ice crystals, snow seeds are thick even if you can't see them."

I nodded. The chow hall was growing closer, and I could see that the roof was clean of snow.

I passed the bodies of the men I had killed earlier, still laying where they had fallen. None of them had been searched, none of them were missing their gear.