Manhunt & Deadly Harvest Boxed Set: Mitch Kearns Combat Tracker Short Stories (Mitch Kearns Combat Tracker Series Book 14) by JT Sawyer

Author:JT Sawyer [Sawyer, JT]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2022-10-16T22:00:00+00:00

1

Sawtooth Mountains, South-Central Idaho

The yellow disk in the eastern horizon was just emerging along the forested ridgeline behind the small army encampment as Sergeant Major Thomas Waline paced before the lineup of his twelve men from the 1st Special Forces out of Fort Lewis, Washington.

“You are experienced operators, and this five-day culmination exercise will put together all the survival training you have been learning during the past week,” said Waline. He spoke with a southern drawl and liked to pause between sentences to reposition the thick wad of chewing tobacco that made his lower lip seem beestung.

“The first two days will find you alone and improvising with what’s in your pockets as you would if you found yourself separated from your unit or your gear or, God forbid, escaping from a POW situation. You will have ten miles to cover during these two days using your land nav skills and the coordinates you will be given.” He paused to glance at a single raven flying towards a thick cluster of yellow spruce trees. “This timeframe will simulate an evasion scenario where you are hoofing it while finding shelter, food, and water along the way.”

Waline leaned over and spit out a stream of tobacco juice onto a jagged piece of sandstone. “On the morning of day three, you will link up with another unit member per the instruction packet I will give each of you before leaving today. You will then fashion a primitive encampment and have the remaining three days to practice your trapping and food procurement skills.”

He gave a sideways glance to the group. “And remember, you will be on national forest land so when it comes to harvesting wild game, you will need to abide by any applicable laws.” He raised his fingers in air quotes at the last word, figuring that he had sufficiently covered the legal parameters governing his men’s actions afield. Since it was early May there wouldn’t be any berries or nuts to forage so they would be using primitive fishing methods or small-game deadfalls to feed themselves.

As he walked by the two men at the end of the row, he paused and glanced at their rough, unshaven faces and gave each one a hard stare. They were Waline’s most senior operators. Sergeant Marco Rigby, the first man, was barrel-chested, with arms resembling oak branches. The second man stood six feet tall and just over two hundred pounds. His tan complexion came from a lifetime in the outdoors and his eyes were slit-like. Waline stopped walking and stood before the young sergeant. “Kearns, you will be the last one out of the helo this morning. I’ve got a nice spot just for you seeing as how you actually like all this Davy Crockett stuff.”

Kearns nodded, then swallowed hard. “Sounds good, Sgt. Major. What are the limitations on the gear we can bring?”

Waline looked down the row, trying to avoid playing favorites with Kearns, whom he silently acknowledged as the most seasoned outdoorsman of the bunch—maybe of any group he’d worked with—and whose cowboy mannerisms he found intriguing.

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