The Journey of Kyle Gibbs Box Set

by Wayne Marinovich

  ‘She’s still down at the mayor’s residence. I’d hoped for her to be here at the fort by now. But she has not returned,’ Gibbs said. ‘I fear for her safety if the mayor gets wind of Captain Schmidt’s team.’

  There was a long silence on the line. ‘Lord Butler…? You still there?’

  ‘Yes, Captain. Just thinking,’ he said.

  ‘Captain, where is your team located?’

  ‘All deployed around the plant, sir. Corporal Byrne is here with me. We were going to head back to the plant after this call,’ Gibbs replied.

  ‘Change of orders, Captain. I will clear this with Minister Kirilenko later, but you and Corporal Byrne head to the town and get our girl back. I will get in contact with Captain Schmidt and get him to reroute to the plant and take charge until she’s been rescued. Radio your men and apprise them of the change of orders. Once you have Christina, you can head back and help ensure that the Chooz plant is taken over by the GGC. I have had enough of this diplomatic crap.’

  ‘You want us to attack and capture the plant, sir?’

  ‘That’s correct, Captain. Let us know when it is done so that we can bring the new warlord in.’

  ‘Should we not wait for the Phoenix Council to agree first, sir?’

  ‘I am the Phoenix Council,’ Lord Butler shouted, before lowering his tone. ‘My apologies, Captain. I am just worried about Christina as I sent her to France myself. And I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to her. You go and get her back. Leave the Phoenix Council to me.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  • • •

  Delta Echo team had dug into the hill, nestled amongst a group of trees and an outcrop of large sandstone boulders. Their positions overlooked the River Meuse, which gently wound around the peninsula that was the site of the nuclear plant. Four of the men were snipers, and all had been taking turns with their watchers to keep an eye on the main plant, especially the bridge, which used to be the back entrance of the plant.

  The sniper on duty was leaning against the rocky outcrop, his L115A long range rifle set up on a rock in front of him. He looked down at the river and squinted, then slowly reached for his binoculars. Five barges were approaching from the east and were steering a course towards the low bridge.

  ‘Alpha one, Alpha one. Delta Echo. Over,’ he said.

  ‘Alpha one, copy over.’

  ‘Five riverboats approaching the bridge. Over,’ Delta Echo said.

  ‘If they land or try to access the locked gate, engage and keep them from entering the plant. Over.’

  ‘Copy, Alpha one. Orders to engage received.’

  • • •

  Jackson was near the front of the third barge en route to the low-lying bridge, which he could see a little further down the river. He glanced across at the long fence of the Chooz plant and couldn’t see any of the guards. The man sitting next to him shifted nervously. Jackson looked at him and noticed that the safety on his machine gun was still on. He quietly leant across and flipped it off, smiled at the man, and continued to focus on the bridge looming in the distance.

  Their orders were simple on paper, but the men around him were nervous, so he closed his eyes for a while and took a few slow deep breaths.

  The barge ground up against the rusty jetty and came to rest against the barge in front of them, with a loud thud. One-by-one the men began jumping out of the barge up onto the concrete jetty. Jackson started running up the old concrete spillway and saw the first of his men reach the top of the bridge. A puff of red mist flicked off the lead man’s head, and he stopped mid-stride, frozen for a second, then his legs gave way under his dead weight.

  ‘Snipers!’ Jackson screamed and continued to run up the spillway. ‘Spread out everyone and run as fast as you can.’

  The men spread out and tried to zigzag as they ran, towards the metal gate. The first man there was a fellow Kenyan, and he just managed to get his bolt cutters onto the chain when Jackson felt a bullet fly past his head, hitting the man in the back with a dull thud. The man fell forward and then sideways, finally sinking to the ground, moaning. Jackson got to the gate and picked up the cutters. He could hear his men firing randomly up into the forest on the other side of the river. Occasionally, he heard a bullet fly past him and kick up a puff of dust on the other side of the fence.

  ‘Cover me,’ he shouted when he saw the guards on the other side of the fence were starting to run towards them, cocking their rifles and machine guns. Another of his men knelt next to him and let off a spurt of cover fire at the advancing guards, who scattered and took cover behind the admin buildings.

  The chain offered little resistance to the bolt cutters, and Jackson pushed his way through the gate, raising his AK-47. The young Kenyan on the ground next to him was now staggering back to his feet smiling as he slapped the bulletproof vest he had on. Jackson started to say something to him when a puff of blood exploded on the side of the young Kenyan’s head as the sniper’s high-velocity bullet passed through. His knees crumpled under his dead body weight, and he sank to the ground.

  Jackson ran into the plant site, making an arching run to the right and aiming for a pile of metal beams. He felt a slight thud on his backpack but felt no pain, so knew that the bullet that had hit his pack was close.

  Kneeling on the muddy ground, he reached down to his belt and wrapped his fingers around a grenade. In a practised movement, he slipped the pin out and released the spring lever. As if in slow motion, he threw the deadly parcel towards the corner of the building where the guards were taking refuge. The grenade exploded a few seconds later, sending shrapnel and bits of earth flying in all directions.

  Jackson jumped to his feet again and headed for the corner of the building, just as a wounded guard stumbled around the corner, screaming. Jackson opened fire with the AK-47 without breaking his stride and felt the reassuring recoil as the guard lurched twice then fell to his knees. He stopped at the corner and peered around. Chunks of concrete splintered off the wall as someone fired, causing him to pull back. He looked behind him.

  Only half of his men were visible, and he hoped the rest were taking cover from the snipers. Those waiting behind him stared anxiously at him for orders. He gestured for them to join him.

  ‘Men, the guards knew about the attack and have barricaded themselves in the Admin building. This will not stop us from gaining entry.’

  Chapter 32

  Chooz Nuclear Plant, Givet, France - 2028

  Chilemba’s team moved quickly and silently, running at a steady pace between the forest trees, making sure the smokestacks of the plant stayed on their right-hand side. The green fields and large hedgerows were certainly a different terrain than they were used to. They pushed because it was critical that they were in a position to close the trap that they had set.

  Chilemba had taken his team out on a much wider arch than René had advised but was confident that with the great fitness of the men he’d hand-picked, they could move in behind the enemy position and seal the trap quickly and without detection from the GGC men. They stopped from time to time, scanning ahead with binoculars for any signs of the GGC guards, although most of his men had fantastic eyesight from hunting in the open expanses of Africa.

  On one such occasion, Chilemba was leading his men along an overgrown hedge when he heard the first shots going off. Had he miscalculated their approach? They were indeed the unforgettable clacking sounds of the AK-47, so something must have happened for Jackson’s team to have started firing. His heart raced in his chest as he heard the dull thud of grenade explosions filtered across the field.

  They moved into an open field, then twenty-five metres further on, Chilemba brought them to an abrupt halt. The men all dropped to their knees in anticipation of an attack, and Chilemba pointed to a trampled path through the long wet grass in the field ahead of them. He inched forward and looked around for spoor on the ground. Nothing was visible except that a large group of men had moved quickly through the area in the
general direction of the plant. He realised immediately that he needed to change the plan and his team’s point of attack. As one, all the men got to their feet, following the trail through the field and into the forest edge, stopping in a large area with puddles and areas of mud.

  Chilemba stooped down to look at the clear spoor in the mud. The tracks were very fresh, and he signalled to another Kenyan at the rear of his team.

  ‘Twenty-five men?’ Chilemba asked.

  The man nodded. ‘Yes, ten to fifteen minutes ahead. See, the water has only just started to seep back into the boot-print,’ the young Kenyan said, pointing at the mud.

  ‘How far to the river, young brother?’ Chilemba asked.

  ‘Maybe twenty minutes at our current pace. You see that they are military boots and not shoes like most of the men here wear.’

  Chilemba nodded and turned to face his men. They were all drenched in sweat but looked fresh nonetheless. ‘Let us catch these men who dare to attack our paymasters. I ask you to dig deep for the pace I am about to set you.’

  Fifteen more minutes at a lung-bursting pace brought them to the forest edge overlooking the River Meuse. They slowed the pace as they got closer to a group of large beech trees. Right in front of them, and across the silvery river, were the cooling stacks. From their elevated position, they could easily look into the grounds of the nuclear plant. At the bottom of the bank was the group of men they’d been chasing, all wading through the river. Chilemba felt the tension rising as he realised that it was the perfect chance for his men to silence this threat, but they had a plan he needed to stick to. After a minute or two, the other team had all reached the far bank. Chilemba recognised their uniforms as those belonging to the GGC teams. These were well-armed men who were about to outflank Jackson and his team.

  Chilemba felt torn between sticking to his orders of radio silence and protecting his lifelong friend. It was the difference between what should be done and what had to be done, so he changed the channel on the radio. ‘Mungiki two, Mungiki two, this is Mungiki one, over,’ Chilemba said.

  ‘Mungiki two, this is Mungiki one over,’ he tried a second time.

  The sound of sporadic gunfire from the AK-47’s drifted across the river from somewhere in the plant.

  Chilemba raised his small binoculars and saw the captain of the GGC team turn towards them, and bark orders to his nearby men. It was not the man, Gibbs, they had been told about. This was indeed another GGC team. Chilemba watched them as they went about cutting the perimeter fence, to gain entrance to the plant. These were reinforcements that the mayor had not expected.

  Chilemba clicked the radio receiver. ‘Givet, Givet, this is Mungiki one, over.’

  He waited in silence for a minute before the radio crackled into life. ‘Maintain radio silence, Mungiki one. Over.’

  ‘Negative, Givet. We have a second group of men that have arrived from the south-west and are about to enter the plant. Over,’ Chilemba said.

  After another minute waiting, René came through on the radio. ‘Confirm that the second team is a reinforcement GGC team.’

  ‘Affirmative, twenty-five men in GGC uniforms, over,’ Chilemba said, watching the men ripping open the perimeter fence and one by one, slip onto the site.

  Chapter 33

  Mayor’s residence, Givet, France - 2028

  ‘Sir, the second Mungiki team, have not been able to get access to the admin building or more crucially, the control room,’ René said, looking at a smouldering Christophe Magne whose arm rested on the Beretta 9mm that was holstered on his belt. He nodded slowly and took another sip of from the whisky tumbler.

  ‘It is imperative that we obtain access to it, René, as it will then give us the leverage to get them to stand down and pull the guard unit out,’ he said.

  ‘Captain Gibbs and his men have set up roadblocks on the road into the site as we anticipated, so they are occupied there,’ René continued.

  ‘Then what is the problem with breaching the admin building?’ Christophe enquired.

  ‘It seems there are snipers in the hills to the east who are keeping many of our men pinned down. The first Mungiki team, under Chilemba, have broken radio silence and confirmed that a second Phoenix Guard with GGC soldiers has come in from the south-west and are about to infiltrate the plant from the south which will outflank our men attacking the admin building.’

  ‘What…A second Phoenix Guard…Here already?’

  Christophe rose to his feet and in one fluid motion threw the whisky tumbler at the library wall just above Alain’s head, where he sat quietly on a couch. Shards of glass showered over him as he bent over to protect his head.

  ‘We have been lied to by Lord Butler and Christina. That second unit must have already been here for a few days now. Fetch me the Deputy Minister and bring the lying woman to me. She will pay for this.’

  • • •

  Christina sat on the bed reading an old book she had found when she heard footsteps hastily approaching her door. She looked up from the book and held her breath. The footsteps stopped outside her door, followed by a soft knock.

  ‘Deputy Minister, it is Alain Rubert.’

  Christina opened the door to see the distressed looking little Frenchman standing in his usual pinstriped suit. He gave the blue overalls she had been given to wear a quick look up and down. She had also been given old ladies’ trainers, which her captors had found somewhere.

  ‘Please come with me, Christina. It appears that another Phoenix Guard has arrived in Givet and is attacking the plant. As you can imagine, the mayor is enraged by this and wants an explanation from you and Lord Butler,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t have any knowledge about a new team arriving. I’ve been locked in here for the last two days in case you men have forgotten.’ she said, feeling her heart racing with nervous energy.

  ‘Please come quickly,’ he said. ‘You do not want to keep the mayor waiting.’ He grabbed her by the arm and led her towards the stairwell.

  Christina wrestled her arm away. ‘Let me go, Alain.’

  ‘Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be, Deputy Minister. You don’t want Christophe to lose his temper with you,’ he said, taking her arm again and pulling her along.

  ‘You are hurting me, Alain,’ she said and pulled her arm free. Two dull thud-like sounds echoed from behind her, causing her to spin around. Alain staggered to his knees and then fell forward. He hit the ground, and she could see two small holes in his back, the crimson stain getting bigger as the cotton shirt reddened.

  She looked up, and at the end of the white-walled corridor she saw Gibbs, standing with his Glock pistol raised, a whiff of smoke slipping from the suppressed the end of the barrel.

  ‘Hello, kitten.’ he said a smile on his face. ‘You miss me?’

  ‘I’m so glad you’re here!’ she said, running into his arms before kissing him on the lips. ‘Did you have to kill Alain, he was quite harmless?’

  ‘It’s shoot first, ask questions later at this stage. Come on, let’s go downstairs and surprise the mayor so we can put an end to this,’ he said.

  ‘No, Gibbs. Forget about Christophe. He is holed up with René, and God knows how many others. Let’s get back to the fort and ensure we capture the plant. We can lose control of Givet, but not of the plant,’ she said.

  Gibbs grabbed her hand and led her in the opposite direction to the staircase down to the mayor’s office. They made their way to a small stone staircase that spiralled downwards. As quietly as they could, they moved past the ground floor and continued downwards towards the cellar.

  When they got there, a guard was leaning against one of the walls holding his head, blood oozing between his fingers. Before he could comprehend what was going on, Gibbs swung the butt of his pistol against the man’s temple, and he went down again.

  ‘Poor chap, that’s the second time I’ve clocked him in as many minutes,’ Gibbs said as he stepped over the body and made his way to the back of the
cellar. The cool stone-walled cellar had three long racks on the left-hand side, full of tinned foods and hanging cured meats. Gibbs walked passed them and walked straight up to six giant wooden wine vats.

  ‘Gibbs, where are you going? It’s a dead-end. We’ll be trapped here.’

  Gibbs smiled at her and reached over to one of the big vats. Christina heard a click, and the front of the vat opened up to reveal a tunnel. Gibbs grabbed a torch and flicked the switch on. A bright beam shone inside the vat to reveal that it was hollow and at the other end was a small door frame.

  ‘We go out the same way I came in, a secret passage. That resistance chap, Francois, who we caught the other day, told Shredder about this entrance. Hurry, my girl.’

  The smell of damp mould on old rocks filled Christina’s nostrils, and she tensed up as they walked through the doorway and into the dark stone tunnel. The beam of light from Gibbs’s torch was bright enough to reveal that the passage had rooms on each side, but there was no time to be concerned about them.

  ‘Stay close to me as it’s pretty narrow down here,’ he whispered, just as they heard shouts at the entrance to the tunnel. ‘Damn it, they must have found Alain’s body.’

  They ran for another hundred yards, and then Gibbs stopped.

  ‘Hold on to this,’ he said, handing her the torch. ‘We need to stop them from following us.’

  Gibbs pulled his pack off his back and opened the top compartment to remove what looked like a large brick. He pulled out black tape and taped the brick to one of the old wooden struts. He then pulled out a wire from the brick and spanned it across the passage before securing it to an opposite strut.

  Christina stood watching with the torch as Gibbs slowly got up from his knees. ‘Carefully step over the wire. And please don’t touch it or it’s goodnight nurse.’

  Christina gingerly stepped over the wire and followed Gibbs along the winding stone passage for what seemed like an eternity. Cobwebs wrapped around them like cling wrap and she repeatedly scraped her elbows on the rough walls. Finally, they reached a stone chamber that had an iron ladder bolted to the wall. Although it was old and rickety, they managed to climb the shaft to a black metal grate above them. Gibbs put his shoulder to the grate and with a grunt pushed it open. They both climbed out onto the concrete pavement, fifty metres away from the back of the mayor’s residence. Two young boys were sitting on a bench watching them, calmly munching on carrots. Their three-legged mongrel hopped over to the grate, its nose close to the ground.