Masks of Ash

by Adrian J. Smith

  “Booth! Cal?”

  Again, silence over the radio. Were OPIS jamming their comms now?

  The firing pattern changed. Before, it had been focused on Ryan. Suddenly, it shifted.

  “Coming in hot,” Booth said.

  Ryan breathed a quick sigh of relief. His idea had worked. Now they just had to finish the plan.

  “Even up the odds for me, will ya?” Ryan said.

  He twisted once more and slithered back the other way. He spotted a pair of legs out in the open and took them out. The commando howled and thumped to the ground. Before he could aim, Ryan shot him in the head. With Booth now in the fight, the gun battle became a melee. The Black Skulls were trained, but from what Ryan could see, they lacked mission time. Too many hours sitting around discussing tactics, but no opponents to test their skills on.

  Ryan dived behind a different vent and shot another commando in the chest. He gurgled blood and smiled. Ryan stood over him and leveled his weapon at the commando’s face. The commando reached up and took off his helmet, revealing the snow-blonde hair and the ice-blue eyes of a woman.

  Booth shot the last Black Skull and stood. “All good, boss?”

  “I’ll take care of this one. Lock that door, blow the masts jamming outside signals, and secure the perimeter,” Ryan said.

  “Wilco.”

  The blonde woman was chuckling as Ryan kicked away her HK416. It scraped over the smooth bitumen and rasped to a stop. The thick scent of cordite and oil hung in the air.

  The woman chuckled again. “You LK3 idiots are too late.”

  “What do you mean?” Ryan said, frowning. He slipped his Glock free and shouldered the MP5.

  “No matter what you do, OPIS will succeed. We’re too big.”

  “Maybe,” Ryan said. “But I’m going to find out.”

  The woman pulled up her shirt and glanced at the already-healing wound. The nanites were doing their job. “You’re not going to find out.” She laughed again and threw a metal object toward Ryan. He watched it fly, immediately identifying it as a grenade pin.

  All those days, months, and years spent training kicked in. Ryan ducked, then sprang backward. The grenade and woman exploded as Ryan covered his head with his arms. Thousands of tiny pieces of shrapnel stabbed into his body. He hit a low wall surrounding an air conditioning unit and gasped for oxygen. His ears rang louder than the aftermath of a rock concert.

  He had only ever felt worse pain once before in his life. Back on that fateful Wednesday in Koyasan, when his nanites had awoken, forming the alpha around his brain stem and stopping the millions of others in his body from self-destructing.

  Ryan stared up at the night sky above the circle of floodlights. Millions of stars blinked back.

  “Connors?” Booth said. “You good?”

  “I’m fine. Just need time to heal,” Ryan said through gritted teeth.

  Booth crouched. “Watch this.”

  The group of communications masts in the center of the roof shook, and a jet of gray smoke exploded from the base. Like an ancient tree in the forest, the biggest mast toppled over and smashed to the concrete, sparks flying from the antennas and electrical boxes.

  Ryan grasped his oldest friend’s shoulder. “Nice work. Two objectives down.” He thumbed his radio. “Cal. Do you copy?”

  The same eerie silence greeted him. He clicked his radio to the next channel. “SITREP.”

  The pause was almost as eerie as the silence from Cal before Zanzi’s voice sounded out. “We’re okay. We found Tilly’s file, but Black Skulls are hunting us. Oh, and we found Barko.”

  “Barko?”

  “One of the chief scientists.”

  “Good work. Keep out of sight. Head to the rendezvous point.”

  “Copy that.”

  Ryan pulled himself against the brick wall so he could see the stairwell he had used to reach the roof. The Nameless had won this battle, but OPIS would regroup and plan their offensive. He took a sip from his water and prayed the nanites in his system healed him in time.

  Where the hell was Cal?

  ***

  Lisa and Sofia reached the top of the huge water pipe. They crawled out and treaded water inside a stainless-steel tank about the size of a hot tub. At one end was the first in a series of filters to stop small pebbles or clumps of soil entering the turbines.

  Sofia shone her flashlight onto the hatch above her and gave it a small shove. It lifted open, and they exited the tank, water dripping from their clothes.

  Lisa crouched by the pumphouse door. It was difficult to hear much over the gurgling water, but all Lisa cared about was enemy fire. She activated her comms. “Avondale. Do you copy?”

  His reply was instantaneous. “Not very well, but I’m here.”

  Lisa walked around the small room trying to improve the signal, to no avail. “Sofia and I are in the pumphouse.”

  “Head east into the main grouping of satellite dishes. Near the middle is a group of three. You need to realign the tallest one west-north-west at an angle of sixty degrees, so the middle antenna is above the summit of the mountains.”

  “Wilco,” Lisa said. She turned to look at Sofia. “And the others?”

  “Alpha team were successful in uploading the virus.”

  “Beta?”

  Allie and Reid were meant to be two kilometers away on a nearby pass, waiting with the Black Hawk for extraction, and in case everything went sideways. The idea of the Ruperts had been scrapped when Beale Base came under attack.

  “They’re standing by and have fixed their radio problem. You should be able to talk directly now.”

  “And you’re ready to go?”

  Lisa paused and looked at Sofia again. She had prayed many times on the way here. Prayed that Avondale, Lahm and Sofia’s plan was going to work. They were confident. Confident that the elites of OPIS would be too arrogant and only protect themselves from cyber-attack, not those serving or guarding them. Like Ebony had said about Pablo Escobar – take out all the lieutenants and the general is left standing on his own, exposed.

  “Ready, Director. You get me that dish to receive and broadcast my signal, and they’ll drop like flies.” Avondale ended the transmission.

  What was left of Sigma team exited the concrete pump house and sprinted for the nearby field of satellite dishes. A wire mesh fence surrounded the area, two meters tall with a coil of barbed wire on top.

  Lisa brought her M4 rifle to her shoulder and scanned the vicinity. The U-shaped main building behind them cast dark shadows over the dishes. She didn’t like the silence. It felt wrong, like the hairs on the back of her neck could detect something. Sofia halted beside the fence and snipped away the wires, making short work of the steel. They slipped inside and ducked behind the first dish. Sofia gasped, pulling Lisa down just as a dozen or so Black Skulls sprang up from their hiding positions and fired.

  Lisa cursed and flicked the safety off. The hard way it is, then.

  Round after round hammered into the metal support frame of the communications equipment. Lisa hit the all-channels button on her radio.

  “Sigma team. Under heavy fire. They were waiting!”

  “On our way,” Booth and Ryan chorused.

  Sofia glanced at Lisa and flicked the safety switch on her rifle. They exchanged a nod and a look of acceptance. They both knew the risks. The probability of them succeeding was low. Maybe around ten percent, but as Ryan annoyingly said all the time, “A slim chance is better than no chance.”

  Lisa released a burst, rose on one knee, searched for targets and dispatched them.

  “Beta team, we could use you right now,” Lisa said.

  “Already en route,” Reid’s voice sounded over the airwaves, garbled but audible. “Meeting heavy resistance. We have bogies all over us.”

  Lisa shot another Black Skull, hitting him in the chest. He tumbled backward, rolled, and sat up. She squinted, calmed her racing heart, and fired again. The commando’s head snapped back, and
he tumbled over again, this time for good.

  Sofia yelped and clutched her leg. Blood pooled over her fingers as she raced to field-dress the wound. Bullet after bullet slammed into the ground and the structure around them.

  “Alpha, where are you?” Lisa shouted.

  As if in response, the pitch of the battle changed. Lisa caught a glimpse of Booth clambering down a fire escape, pausing to fire at any exposed Black Skull he saw. Ryan had taken up an overwatch position to cover Booth and to keep the commandos from her and Sofia.

  “Moving in now,” Ryan said.

  Lisa turned and looked at their target. Just like Avondale had said, a group of three masts with a tall one at the center. Their way was clear. If they were going to go, it had to be now.

  “Sofia, go. I’ll lay down suppressing fire.”

  The Colombian American bolted up and shouldered her carbine, then nodded to Lisa that she was ready. Sofia dashed toward the center mast. Lisa flicked the fire selector to fully automatic and cursed the Black Skulls and their master, OPIS. She moved into a more open area so she could hit the commandos. She dropped one, then two, and another, before the first enemy bullet hit her. A stinging pain made her stumble slightly before dropping to one knee. She took out another commando before a second round thumped into her body. This one shattered ribs and pierced her left lung. She gasped for breath. A third bullet hit her in the upper arm.

  Lisa growled in frustration and glanced over her shoulder. Sofia had got the satellite dish moving and was realigning it. As it moved, she plugged in her laptop to a second dish.

  “Alpha team. Keep the Black Skulls off Sofia,” Lisa gasped. Her chest convulsed as waves of pain flooded her system.

  A fourth bullet whacked into her. Lisa toppled onto her butt and continued to spray rounds at any Black Skull that moved. She had lost count of how many she’d killed. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was keeping Sofia safe. At least long enough to complete the mission.

  The biggest man Lisa had ever seen walked into her field of vision; his muscles barely contained by his BDUs. He was easily over two meters high. As he sauntered toward Lisa, he chucked his rifle away and drew his handgun. He smirked at her and aimed.

  A fifth bullet slammed into her, this one hitting the side of her neck. Lisa blinked, confused. Why am I looking at the night sky?

  Stars blinked back and a weird silence enveloped her. Was this the calm you felt when you knew you were going to die? Did my husband feel this?

  The giant Black Skull stood next to her, watching. Just watching.

  Lisa sat up and leaned against a dish. She tried to raise her arm, but her body disobeyed her. Everything hurt. Her hip, arm, chest, and especially from her neck up. With every heartbeat, fire raged and pulsated in her brain. She felt for the rosary beads Cordwell had given her all those years ago. She looked toward Sofia. The satellite dish was pointing in a westerly direction and Sofia was crouching, defending her position.

  Lisa coughed and stared back at the smirking commando. He squeezed the trigger and a sixth bullet hit her, entering her throat. Blood and mucus filled her lungs. Lisa heard the thump of helicopter rotors and prayed it was Beta team. She prayed for the Hellcats, her former recon team, and wished them each peace in whatever afterlife journey they believed in. As for Lisa Omstead, director of LK3, she was at peace; she was finally going to join her beloved.

  Lisa closed her eyes as the commando’s gun roared one last time.

  Thirty-Seven

  Allie wrestled with the Black Hawk’s controls as strong winds pushed against the fuselage.

  “We got bogies incoming!” Reid said.

  “I see them,” Allie said.

  Three Apaches swooped down like angry wasps. Allie shivered, spotting the weaponry they carried. The M230E1 chain gun was bad enough, but what made her breath catch was the sight of the AIM-9 Sidewinder missiles and the Hydra rockets sitting under the stub wings.

  Allie flew lower, dropping toward the river. She yanked back on the cyclic control, scattering the chasing Apaches. She was moving away from The Eyrie now, hoping to take the choppers with her.

  “I’ll circle around and see if we can approach from the south,” Allie said.

  Reid looked out the hold’s window. “They’re still on our tail.”

  “I know. That’s what I want.”

  Allie wrestled the controls. Bloody choppers, always fighting you because they want to crash. She glanced at the scrolling map on her navigation device and spotted the geographic feature she was looking for. Eons ago the river had cut its way through the rocky landscape, leaving behind a narrow chasm.

  “Hold on,” Allie said.

  She banked hard left and lost altitude, making it look like she was moving away from the river and circling around. At the last minute, she jerked the cyclic pitch control again. The Black Hawk went right and flew into the narrow canyon.

  “Get on that M240,” Allie shouted.

  “You read my mind,” Reid said. He wriggled past Allie and clipped himself into the harness, tugging back on the loading bolt.

  Like before, the Apaches followed her, and this time they began to fire in earnest. Tracer rounds whizzed past before live rounds tore into the gray rock face. She did her best to avoid the bullets, but the proximity of the rocky cliffs on either side hampered her maneuverability. Reid began to fire the M240 as another burst from the Apache slammed into them. Reid whooped as the sound of tearing metal echoed around the cockpit. “Got one!”

  A split second later, the explosion boomed in her ear, but Allie couldn’t let the small victory break her concentration. She flew out of the narrow canyon and dove back toward the river. Another two Apaches joined the remaining choppers, releasing more bullets. Most missed, hitting the soaring rocks and sending chunks of granite raining down into the river, but some got through and slammed into the Black Hawk, punching through the fuselage. Reid screamed and stopped firing. Allie risked a glance behind her. A large piece of metal had torn free and stabbed through Reid’s shoulder. He was swinging free in the harness, his right hand swatting feebly at his injury. He managed to get a good grip on the metal and yanked it free, his face a mask of pain.

  Kaboom!

  A huge explosion sounded above them, and slabs of granite showered down. Allie gasped in desperation and accelerated. She whipped her head around, looking for the Apaches. Had one of them fired a Sidewinder? She knew that if one of those lethal projectiles hit them, it was goodbye.

  The Black Hawk whined and made odd sounds. Smoke poured from the weakened engine, but the rotors were still spinning, keeping them airborne.

  “You still with me, Reid?” Allie said.

  “Barely.” His voice was soft and raspy, as if fluid choked his lungs.

  “Good. I need that gun. We got hostiles coming in hot.” She looked up and twisted her head around, counting the Apaches. The enemy was down to three.

  The Eyrie appeared, sitting high on a plateau with steep mountains behind it. A vast array of satellite dishes and radio masts covered the roof and the only flat ground in front of the buildings.

  Allie pulled back on the cyclic controls to gain more altitude and bumped her comms. “Sigma, do you copy?”

  “I’m here, Beta. The director is down. I repeat, Lisa is down. Take out these commandos.”

  “Copy that. I’ve got company. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Allie swung the chopper around to face the enemy, and Reid discharged the M240. The machine gun fire was deafening as Allie dipped and ducked around like a mosquito, somehow staying out of reach of the Apaches.

  “Beta, I need you down here,” Sofia called over the comms.

  “Take us down, Allie. I’ll get out,” said Reid.

  Allie didn’t bother arguing. She swooped down as low as she could, maybe two meters above the ground. She waited until Reid was out then regained some altitude. The Apaches were concentrating their fire now. Round after round thunked into the Black Hawk’s fuselage
.

  Allie tightened her harness and gripped the controls. A strange sense of peace came over her. She had trained for situations like this and had often wondered if she could sacrifice her life to save others. She smiled to herself, happy to know that she could. She switched channels on the radio.

  “Booth, you read me?”

  “Loud and clear.”

  “See if you can get some of these Apaches off me.”

  “Copy that.”

  Booth cursed something inaudible, and the radio squelched before sounds of his weapon firing echoed over the airwaves.

  Allie switched the radio off. She pulled her lips tight and focused ahead. She waited until she had two Apaches on her tail, then swiveled around, firing every gun available. Rounds tore into one enemy chopper, shattering its windscreen. It smashed into the rocky cliff face, sending chunks of metal flying into the air. Allie grinned momentarily and searched the sky for the last two Apaches.

  As if on cue, they attacked in formation from the north. Allie screamed and banked away, lining up the Black Skulls pinning down Sigma team. She had a brief glimpse of Reid unleashing with his M4, and Booth, his back to her, firing at the advancing choppers. Commandos dived for cover as rounds from her guns tore into their flesh and shattered bone. Some rounds hit the satellite dishes and radio equipment, sending pieces of fragmented metal flying through the air.

  At that moment, the Apaches fired. Chain gun fire and Sidewinder missiles streaked across the gap. Allie did her best to dodge the torrent of rounds, but she was more concerned about protecting Sigma so they could complete their mission.

  The Black Hawk spun wildly as a missile exploded, tearing off the tail section. Allie let go of the controls and tucked her hands by her sides. The chopper spun over Lisa, Sofia and Reid before slamming into the ground, tumbling, and taking out multiple dishes. The main rotor broke off and careened into the air. The Apaches took evasive action, but the spinning rotor tore through them like a high velocity round. Allie’s Black Hawk smashed onto the edge of the plateau, the explosion sending out waves of heat and a maelstrom of debris. The booming sound waves reverberated off the mountains before a brief silence descended over The Eyrie.