Black Operations- the Spec-Ops Action Pack

by Eric Meyer

  He laughed. “Take ‘em away, I’ve got work to do. I’ll be seeing you, Chief.”

  “In hell, Roscoe.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, probably.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  They were locked back in the room with John and Violet Robson. All of them were tied with thin rope, and even Nolan’s useless arm had been tied tightly behind his back. They’d left a guard outside the room. Just before he’d slammed the door shut, he’d grinned at them and looked pointedly at his MAC-10 9 mm. The meaning was clear, come through that door and he’d be more than pleased to use it on them. Inside the room, Nolan was worried about John Robson. His face was chalky white, and his breathing came in short, uneven pants. Nolan was no medic, but he guessed the poor guy was on the verge of a heart attack. His wounds, and the trauma he’d suffered, had been too much for him. His face was perspiring with the obvious pain he was in. Time was not on their side.

  If we don’t get help soon, he’ll likely die.

  Violet had arrived at the same conclusion. “How are we going to get out of this?” she asked him. “We need to help John. He needs medical help urgently.”

  Her eyes met his with the unspoken message. ‘My husband is dying. You must help him.’

  “We have to get ourselves out of here, somehow. We’ll find a way,” Nolan reassured her. But his arm was on fire, and he felt his vision going dizzy with the extreme agony.

  They’d dragged his broken arm behind his back and tied the two wrists together.

  Christ, not a blackout, not now!

  Then he shook his head hard, to clear it.

  Fuck the arm! I’m getting them out of this!

  “But, we don’t even possess any weapons, and we’re tied up,” Violet pointed out. “Perhaps there is no way out of this.”

  She murmured a few words to her husband as he groaned and doubled over. Nolan and Carol exchanged glances. He didn’t have long.

  “There’s a way, Violet, so just keep him going a little longer. Carol, can you reach my broken arm, the sling around the cast?”

  “I’m not sure, why?”

  “Because I tucked my combat knife in there when Bremmer’s goons jumped me.”

  Awkwardly, she maneuvered behind him. “I can feel the hilt of the knife, but I’m not sure if I can reach it.”

  Nolan remembered when he’d been held with Gracia. He felt a pang at the loss, the feeling of déjà vu.

  I’m sick of these Colombian bastards constantly attacking the people I love, not to mention the attacks on me, and the guys in the Platoon. This time is the last time, no matter what. There’s only one rule. End it!

  “Let me try, dear. My hands are smaller, and I’m used to delicate things. I do a lot of knitting and sewing.”

  She made way for Violet Robson, who wriggled her hands and managed to extract the knife.

  “I’ve got it. What do I do with it?”

  “I think cutting through the ropes that are holding us would be a good start,” he replied.

  “There’s no need for sarcasm,” she retorted. They all smiled, and she contorted her body into a position where she could cut through Carol’s ties. The San Diego detective gratefully took the knife from her and sawed through Nolan’s bonds. Within minutes, they were all free. He was about to try and get the guard to open the door on some pretext when a voice sounded in his earpiece.

  “Bravo Two this is One, what is your status?”

  They’d left his commo system on him. It was so tiny that they’d missed it when they searched him, the earpiece in his ear, and an almost invisible wire that led down to a collar mic. The Seals were coming in! He hit the transmit button.

  “Bravo One, this is Nolan. Come in.”

  A pause, and then, “Chief Nolan? What the hell are you doing on this net?”

  It was a voice he knew well. Talley.

  “It’s a long story, Boss. But I came to the compound to bring out the Robsons and Roscoe Bremmer before the attack hit. I didn’t want them killed. We’re being held prisoner in the basement of the main residence inside the compound. I found the Robsons, but they’re badly injured, and they need medical attention right away. There’s something else you need to know about. Roscoe threw in with the Colombians.”

  “You’re kidding me!”

  “No, it’s true. He’s second in command to Manuel Rivera. Right now, they’re preparing for your attack, except that I told them you were coming in at 0300.”

  “Copy that. Can you extract yourselves from that basement?”

  “I think so, yeah. We’re working on it.”

  “Understood. We’re here in strength. Jacks sent in Alpha and Charlie Platoons, and he wants these bastards terminated. When we leave this place, there’s to be nothing other than rubble and dead bodies.”

  “It’s about time. These people have played around with us for too long. I have a Raven circling the compound, you can lock into its downlink, and you’ll have some good overhead recon.”

  He gave Talley the link to connect to the Raven.

  “Yeah, thanks, Chief. I won’t ask where it came from. We have a Spooky overhead, so they’ll be keeping us up to date with the situation on the ground.”

  “I take it the assault begins as planned?”

  “Yeah, no change. Vince dropped in a half hour ago and is positioned outside the compound. He climbed to the top of a tree, and he’s looking down inside right now. I was just calling him. He’s designated Bravo Two. I’ll designate you Bravo Five, being as you’ve inserted yourself into the mission, and I’ll let Alpha and Charlie Platoons know you’re around. I’d suggest you keep your heads down until we’ve rolled over these people.”

  “Copy that, Boss.”

  Nolan explained to them what was going down.

  “So we’re to wait here? That sounds pretty risky if they decide to come and finish us off. What about the guard outside?” Carol asked. Her face was wreathed with concern.

  “I don’t intend to wait. It’s time to get out of here and join the fun.” He banged hard on the door. “Guard, Senor, she’s ill, she’s dying, help us! Ayuda, esta emergencia, urgente. Ahora!”

  He looked at the Carol and the Robsons. “We need to get back into position as if we’re still tied. Violet, show us what you’re made of. Pretend you’re dying.”

  “I feel as if I am,” she muttered. But she proceeded to put on a performance worthy of a Broadway show. She moaned and shouted in pretended pain, and they waited. After a few seconds, the bolts slid back, and the door opened cautiously. The guard peered in, and satisfied they were still secure, entered the room and walked over to the writhing body of Violet Robson.

  “Lo que está mal?”

  He lifted up her head to look at her face but recoiled as she drooled spittle on his shirt.”

  “Dios mío!”

  He stepped back and went rigid, as Nolan’s huge combat knife was pressed against his neck. Nolan waited while Carol rushed forward, relieving the man of a pistol tucked into his belt. She then stood back, cocked the action, and covered him.

  “Step back slowly, and put up your hands, understand? Comprendas?”

  “Si, si, Senor,” the man replied shakily. He moved backwards toward Nolan, who reversed the knife and hit him hard on the head; a precise, aimed blow, and the man went straight down.

  “Was that really necessary?” Violet asked him in a frosty voice. “He’d already surrendered to us.”

  “Only if we didn’t want him getting free and attacking us from behind,” Nolan said grimly. “Let’s get moving. We need to get to a secure position where they won’t find us, and where we may be able to do some damage.”

  They struggled up the wooden staircase. Carol and Nolan helped Violet drag John up the stairs, each step causing him to groan in pain.

  These fuckers are going to wish they’d never been born for doing this to an old man, Nolan vowed.

  They pressed on upwards, higher and higher until they reached the third floor o
f the vast house. There, Nolan found a room with a single door and a window that looked down over the open compound. Carol locked the door behind them so that they wouldn’t be surprised from behind. When they were secure, Nolan called in to notify Talley of the changed situation.

  “That’s good news, Chief. We’ll look out for you, but keep your heads down. Vince has identified the armory. It’s a small blockhouse with an iron door, about fifty yards in front of the house, slightly north. The Spooky is going to take it out in a few minutes, so I guess that should cramp their style a little. Then we’re coming in.”

  “Copy that, good luck.”

  “Yeah, you too. See you soon.”

  He looked out of the window and noted the blockhouse. As Talley had said, it had an iron door. As he watched, a man walked up to it, unlocked it and went inside; presumably fetching supplies for the defenders. He turned to Carol and the Robsons.

  “You need to keep your heads down, real low. Make sure you’re well away from the windows.”

  “What’s happening, Kyle?” John asked him.

  “These people are about to get a taste of warfare, and it’s likely to stick in their throats.”

  Just then he heard the machine-like buzzing noise of rounds pouring out of an electric Gatling gun.

  “Hit the deck now, down, down, press your heads to the floor!”

  He dived to the floor close to the window and raised his head just high enough to look out. It was as if nature’s fury had unleashed a hurricane on the building. The heavy rounds smashed through concrete and steel, and the circling AC-130 held the point of aim long enough for the building to be reduced to a smoking ruin. Ammunition stores inside added to the destruction, as bursting rounds, shells, grenades and rockets exploded, causing the building to literally split apart.

  “Carol, watch the door. Now they know I fooled them over the time of the attack, they’ll be like a bunch of angry hornets.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got it.”

  The storm outside ended as abruptly as it had begun, and then he saw Manuel Rivera for the first time. He ran out of the house with Roscoe Bremmer to the armory to check the damage. It only took them seconds, and he turned to Roscoe and shouted at him. It was impossible to hear what was said, but the meaning was obvious. Roscoe had told them to prepare for an attack at 0300, and it had started an hour early. The two men ran back into the house, and as they did, Nolan heard the sound of helos coming in. A swarm of MH-6 Little Birds swooped in over the wooden walls, and soldiers in dark camo began abseiling down as they hovered fifty or so feet above the earth. A man ran out with an assault rifle pointed up at the attackers, but he was cut down as Vince Merano went about his deadly business. The commo net was alive with chatter as the Seals mounted their attack.

  “Bravo One, this is Charlie One, we’ve secured the rear of the storage building. We’re setting charges now.”

  “Bravo One, this is Alpha Two, we’ve arrive at the main communications building. Four of our guys have the track covered, so they won’t be going anywhere.”

  “Copy that, Alpha Two. Alpha One, what is your twenty?”

  “Right outside the main gate, Bravo One. Charges set, ready to go on your order. It looks like it’s hotting up in there.”

  “That it is, Alpha One. Go now, I say again, go now.”

  Immediately, there was a huge explosion as the main gates blew in, and even as smoke and debris lingered in the air, dark figures flitted through the night, surging into the compound and spreading out to search the buildings. Nolan saw John Robson watching, close to him.

  “They’re finished, Kyle. There’s no way they can defend against this kind of power. I’d no idea this is what you did.” His breathing was labored, but his color had improved.

  “Yeah, it sure looks impressive, but they’ll have a few tricks up their sleeves. What worries me is, how they plan to get out?”

  “The Colombians?”

  “The leaders, Manuel Rivera, Roscoe Bremmer, and maybe a couple of others. They never fight to the end. With these people, it’s about profit, not ideology. They’ll have a bolthole somewhere.”

  “But, they’re all in the house. There’s no way they’d get out. The place is surrounded by troops. They’d need, well, a helicopter to escape this place. And there’s nowhere they could have a helicopter hidden away ready to take off. They’d need a flat open area, and they’re all under fire.” He stopped, looking thoughtful, and upward. “Except for the roof, of course.”

  Nolan automatically looked up. “The roof, yeah, of course. If they had a way out, that’d be it. He keyed the mic.

  “This is Bravo Five, for all units. It’s possible they may attempt a helo evac from the roof. Could someone focus the overhead cameras there and keep an eye on it?”

  “Bravo Five, this is Hammer One, we’re running a slow circle overhead. We’ll keep an eye on that roof for you.”

  “Copy that, Hammer One.” He smiled to himself. The voice sounded like the same guy who’d helped them out over Colombia. He recalled the storm of gunfire that had reduced the armory to rubble, severely weakening Rivera’s soldiers to resist the Seal onslaught. Whatever, they’d wreaked the same kind of devastation. He kept watch out of the window. The compound was alive with gun flashes as Seals ran around, gunning down the opposition. There was no mercy, and more than once a Colombian tried to throw up their hands and surrender, but they were shot down. Clearly, the orders from above were being obeyed to the letter. These men had defied the United States government, and even directly attacked the organization of the Navy Seals. They’d abandoned all rights, and torn up the rulebook. Now they were suffering the consequences. John and Violet looked on, horrified. They’d crawled over to the window and were watching the devastation below.

  “It’s a massacre,” Violet uttered, in horrified tones.

  “At least they won’t be coming after us or the kids any more, after this little lot,” John replied.

  And then they heard footsteps outside on the landing. The doorknob rattled, and there was a crash as a heavy body tried to shoulder the door open.

  “Nolan, you in there?”

  It was Roscoe Bremmer. Nolan gestured for them to keep silent.

  After a pause, Roscoe shouted again. “It looks like your people have won this round. Nice move, deceiving us on the timing. But next time, we won’t make any mistakes. You’re dead, Nolan. You, your family, and everyone close to you. You’ll be looking over your shoulder from now until doomsday. Maybe we will meet in hell, but you’ll be there before us, I promise you.”

  “Don’t think this is the end, Senor Nolan. You have caused me too much trouble, and this is the last time. As your friend Roscoe has said, you’re going to hell, you and all of your people. Adios, Senor. And watch your back.”

  The footsteps retreated from outside the door, and they heard them on the staircase. Going up.

  “We need to get after them. They’re going to the roof. They must have a helo up there.”

  “But surely the gunship will take care of them,” Carol murmured.

  “Maybe, but they’ll have some scheme to get away, so I wouldn’t count on it. I’m going after them. Open the door!”

  She flung open the door and stood aside as he went past her.

  “I’m coming with you,” she shouted as she ran after him.

  “I don’t need you. Look after the Robsons.”

  “You’re wrong. You do need me.”

  “What for?”

  “Because I have the pistol, and the use of both of my arms. Don’t argue. I’m coming.”

  He grunted an acknowledgement and ran on to the stairway. There was a narrower set of stairs that led up to the roof. He started up and reached a door that unmistakably led out onto the roof. He opened it a fraction and stood back as a burst of fire from an assault rifle chipped fragments of woodwork next to his head.

  “Shit, I should have expected that. They’ve mounted a rearguard to stop anyone coming a
fter them.”

  He heard Carol calling him from an open doorway close to the roof door. “Kyle, this is some kind of an attic. There’s a small window that overlooks the roof.”

  He ran in and was able to see the wide expanse of flat roof. A Colombian stood facing the roof door to make sure anyone who came through it would meet with a hail of gunfire. Further away, there was a heap of canvas on the roof. Four men were wrestling to throw off the canvas. As he watched, they succeeded. It was a Bell 429 passenger helicopter, the twin-engine model fitted with Pratt & Whitney Canada PW207D1 turboshafts. It was light, fast, and perfect for escape and evasion. Except when there was an AC-130 prowling overhead.

  How the hell do they expect to get away without being shot full of holes by the Spooky’s Gatling gun?

  Then everything seemed to happen at once.

  “Bravo One, this is Hammer One, we have movement on the roof. Looks like a helo they’re planning to escape on. We’ll take care of it for you.”

  “Copy that, Hammer One.”

  On the other side of the roof, Nolan could see a further group of four Colombians. They were uncovering another canvas-shrouded object.

  Another helicopter, is that their plan?

  And then it came into view, and the plan was laid bare before him. A large, steel object, shaped like a huge box was elevating upwards. Nolan recognized it instantly, a Gecko SA-8 twin surface to air missile system. It was the naval variant, mounted on a rotating launcher. The Gecko was a high-powered, short-range twin missile system. But the Spooky was only two thousand feet above the roof, much too low to defend itself from a missile launch. They’d be hit within seconds of the missile leaving its launch tube. He keyed his mic.

  “Hammer One, missile launch. Get out of there fast!”

  “Copy that, whoever you are.”