Tosh

Tosh powered up the radio, spun the dial to a known frequency and started broadcasting, “Pervolye maya. This is Toshchiy Chelovek. My helicopter is down. We need immediate pickup.” Static filled the air and then a voice answered. “Do you have your coordinates?”

The pilot grabbed the microphone and stated the coordinates. The voice on the other end repeated them correctly and added, “We will be there in one half hour.”

Tosh took out his SR-1 Vector gun and counted the rounds he had for it. He then dug into the survival kit and found a MP-443 Yarygin pistol with two clips of ammunition and handed them to the pilot. “I assume you know how to shoot?”

“Da, ser.”

“Khorosho. Save the last bullet for yourself. We do not want to be captured. Know that I will be saving two bullets, just in case.”

The pilot nodded and hefted the gun and checked the sights. He nodded again in satisfaction. Tosh and he stood behind a small grove of trees watching the chopper burn in the open area. After twenty-five minutes they heard sounds in the distance of an enemy recovery team bushwhacking their way through the dense undergrowth.

Tosh turned in that direction and pointed his gun to be able to shoot the first person who showed up. “I hope our rescue team is early.”

“Ser?”

“Da?”

“I will cover you and you can get the ride if it comes to a choice.”

“Spasibo. But I have never left a man behind.”