China Dolls by Rob Wood

Author:Rob Wood
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BookBaby
Published: 2020-11-25T14:58:45+00:00

Lily saw that the line in front of her was faltering and rallied her Uighurs to probe and slash at the weakest points. This meant leaving even fewer of her troops to hold the defensive line on the Gilgit Baltistan side. They were already enduring withering fire. They could be overrun. Their ammunition could not last.

Though her head hurt and her eyes were shut, Cochrane knew exactly what had happened. Rockslides were common in the Karakoram hills, especially at this time of year. Water ran into the rock fissures during the day, then expanded as overnight temperatures dropped below freezing. “Crag faces shear off in this fashion all the time,” she thought. Then her mind returned, as if from far away, abandoning the theoretical analysis of the how and why of the rockslide to the more pressing issues: Was she okay? Was she still armed? Did she still have contact with Lazyboy?

She opened her eyes to find herself partially submerged in rock and gravel. She was pressing her Heckler and Koch to her chest, her arms wrapped around it, her hands, clasped one over the other, clutched Lazyboy’s remote control. She tapped it. He answered, armed and ready.

The shock waves of air and the wash of rubble had cleared the area of brush and small, alpine trees. If she could pick her way to the top of the rubble, left like a small moraine in front of her, she could get a clear view of the battle.

She pushed down with her hands on both sides to slide her legs out of the gravel. Jets of pain streaked through her right knee. Nevertheless, she sat upright. She scooted her butt backward until she had cleared the gravel blanket. Her knee was throbbing, and she thought it was already beginning to swell. Nothing was broken, she hoped. Clearly her knee could not bear weight and should be bound to prevent any lateral movement.

First, she butt-slid up the moraine, bending her arms and pushing down, while bending her left knee and pushing down on that foot. Injured crabs did it better, she thought. But she made the top of the rock pile and stared hard at the battle lines in the distance. She lit up Lazyboy’s console. Now she could see what he saw and plot the coordinates. His grenade barrels whirred round in a circle, launching eight simultaneous rounds. They splayed spectacularly across the Chinese side of Menodarwar’s men, moving methodically from left to right. She programmed him again, hoping the time between two more volleys would not destroy their effectiveness, but instead demonstrate the strength and resolve of the attacking force. That being one Cody Cochrane.

With Lazyboy occupied with his mission, she turned to address the knee. Clearly, unless she could contrive to bear weight on the right side, and stabilize the knee, she could not possibly make it to the chopper pick-up point.

She used her folding combat knife to slice up her backpack, choosing the straps for cravats to tie the splint, saving folds of nylon fabric for padding.

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