War From The Clouds by Nick Carter Read Free Book Online Page A

help me neutralize…"
    "One moment, please, N3," the curt voice said.
    He was gone for a hell of a long time and I was beginning to understand Antonio's hotheadedness, his lack of patience. I wanted to fling the damned radio off the mountain.
    "Special message from the President," the voice came back on. "There is to be no further involvement by this country. No airdrop. No detachment of commandos. You're to accomplish this mission on your own, N3, with no connection whatsoever with your country of origin."
    "Dammit, man," I snapped, "my cover is already blown. They know I'm an American and they know I'm here to stop Don Carlos. They know…"
    "Your problems to solve," the radio voice said. "You and you alone. Over and out, N3. Please do not contact us again on this frequency until your mission is completed and you wish to make your final report."
    The radio went dead, the connection broken. I almost did throw the thing off the mountain, but Antonio was watching me closely for my reaction. I smiled, in spite of myself. So much for Hawk's readiness to pluck me out of trouble no matter where I was or how deep the trouble.
    "You heard the man, Antonio. We're on our own."
    He was about to say something when we heard the twig snap behind us. We had already loaded up the two Russian Volskas with the extra clips, but had thrown away the empty forty fives. They were too heavy to carry around, waiting to find extra clips. I had taped Wilhelmina to the small of my back, where she usually rested. I had stashed extra 9mm cartridges with the radio, but hadn't yet reloaded the luger.
    Antonio was the first to respond. He flopped to his stomach and poked the bulky Volska out ahead of him, aiming at the direction of the noise of the breaking twig. I shuttled the radio back into its niche between three rocks, snatched up and pocketed two extra clips for Wilhelmina, then went to the firing position.
    We waited perhaps three minutes, listening to silence from the forest behind our secure ledge. Birds called. Wind whistled up from the lovely Reina Valley. There was, however, no sign of human or animal presence near us. Antonio was about to rise again when we heard the snapping again. Then came several snappings. Christ, there must be a whole battalion out there. How had they found us?
    The drop from the far end of the ledge was more than twenty feet, with no slant. At the bottom was a bare area of gravel and sharp rocks, then the thick jungle below that. Even if we made it over the side without breaking any bones — more specifically, our necks — we'd have a few dozen feet of open terrain to cross before reaching the cover of the jungle.
    We had no choice. The hill behind us was filling up with Marines or guerillas, or both, getting into position to catch us in a crossfire that not even the ants would escape with their antennae intact.
    Although I was convinced that they could see us, or had seen us earlier and were moving up by quadrant positions, I sensed another opportunity to build my image as a magician with the good Colonel Vasco. I motioned for Antonio to follow me.
    Using my elbows as legs, I edged across the narrow ledge to one side, where the drop to the rocky area below wasn't quite so high or so steep. We eased over the edge like a couple of eels. We were no sooner dropping through space than I heard the sharp bark of the colonel.
    "Fire, fire, fire! Annihilate them!"
    He had obviously lost his desire to quiz me and then personally remove my intestines. He wasn't about to let me slip away again as he had back there on the compound trail.
    Antonio and I hit the ground at the same time. He landed lightly, flipping over in the air to keep his feet. I miscued slightly and came down on an angle, pitching forward and clanking my ankle on an outcropping of rock. The pain rumbled up through my body like a tidal wave of pellets. I stifled a yell, unwilling to give the colonel even a brief moment of pleasure.
    We were off and running — me