Black Operations- the Spec-Ops Action Pack

by Eric Meyer

  I gasped with surprise how much I'd missed the action during the long months of booze-filled stupor, without hope, without care. And now I recalled the sudden spurt of adrenaline, the knowledge of striding across a razor thin line. On one side was life, and on the other, death. There was nothing like it in the world. Well, almost nothing.

  We raced along the corridor and ran into the front lobby of the house. Two more guards were there, but they were watching the front door, not the side entrance we'd come through. They were not the average low-wage rent-a-cop. These guys were probably ex-Special Forces, and they were already spinning to meet the new threat we presented. We had no choice. We had to put them down, and the house echoed to the sound of gunfire. One of the guards got off a couple of shots before he went down, but we were moving so fast his aim was poor. We crossed the lobby and dashed through a heavy, carved wooden door. It was obviously the way into the main living quarters. The carpet underfoot was thick, and the room we rushed into was luxuriously furnished, like a palace. Across the other side of the room, Ghani Khan had been sitting at an elegant escritoire, working through his paperwork. It was only a second or two since we'd shot the two men in the lobby, but he was responding fast.

  He'd snatched out a weapon, a Mac-10. He snarled a savage curse and sprayed bullets in our direction. We were old hands at this game, and we anticipated the threat. We'd already dived to the floor behind the heavy furniture. Time was short. I'd no idea how many guards were nearby, but it was obvious we had to finish this and get out before too many came rushing to rescue their boss. Niall and Manuel fired short bursts, pinning Khan down while I worked my way nearer. Again, it was a move we'd practiced many times. Khan pushed over a heavy, hardwood chest and took shelter behind it. He fired clip after clip from the Mac 10, and although he didn't score any hits, we all knew he didn't have to. All he needed was to keep us pinned down until his main guard force arrived. Then we heard the front door of the house burst open, and the sound of men rushing inside. Time had run out. There was only one way out of this.

  "Hit them with grenades," I shouted to them.

  Khan heard it too, and he jumped up to make his escape. I went to fire a burst to finish him, but before I could pull the trigger, the first of the grenades exploded, and the room was filled with hot shards of metal. Khan had ducked back down behind cover. It was now or never. I pulled the pin from a grenade, counted to three, and then gently lobbed it behind the chest.

  As I threw it, I shouted, "A gift from America, Khan."

  I hit the deck just as the missile exploded. He never made a sound. It must have landed in his lap and torn him to shreds. At last, Ghani Khan was dead. A little justice for all those American soldiers he'd beheaded, and for those women killed when we went into the mosque. But we weren't out of trouble, not by a long way.

  I looked for the others and saw Manuel toss another grenade toward the hostiles in the lobby. It exploded, and the men the other side of the door screamed as the hot metal shards tore them apart. But more were coming in, and we were out of grenades. This was becoming a firefight we didn't need.

  "Ammo check!"

  "Two clips for the M-16, and one in the handgun," Niall shouted.

  "One and one," Manuel added.

  "I'm almost out," Winter replied.

  And I was down to a few rounds in the Ruger, a fresh clip in my .22, and one full clip remaining for the M-16. The hostiles were firing off scores of rounds as if they had ammunition to squander, which they probably did. The bullets hissed and spat around us like hordes of angry bees. I kept my head down and crawled across to them. There was no sign of Winter. Where the hell had she disappeared to in the space of a couple of seconds?

  "We need an exit strategy. Another few minutes, and we'll be out of ammo."

  "It'll have to be the window," Niall replied, "It's the only other way out."

  He was right. "Let's go!"

  I fired off a half-dozen shots and catapulted to my feet. A dozen steps to reach the window, and I launched myself into the air and smashed through the glass; to land almost at the feet of a half-dozen guards who were working their way around the front of the house to start shooting at us through the same window. They looked down at me and smiled as their fingers tightened on the trigger. Then they looked up as Niall called from the smashed window frame.

  "Hey, motherfuckers."

  He was with Manuel. I doubt the guards understood English, but they got the message. They moved the barrels of their rifles to aim at the new targets, but they got no further. Niall and Manuel took them down in quick, short bursts. Three men each, and in less than a second, six more bodies tumbled to the ground. I looked at the long drive leading up to the house from the gate and could see more men coming at a run. We had about two minutes at most.

  "The plane, we have to get out of here. Run for it."

  They both leapt through the opening, and we pelted around the side of the house toward Turner's plane parked a few hundred yards away. He saw us, and the engine coughed and fired. We ran along the hard earth strip and reached the Cessna, but there was still no sign of Winter Moss.

  "Where the fuck is she?" I shouted at Turner.

  He looked surprised. "I thought she was with you."

  I hesitated for a second. If I were going to leave anyone behind, it would have been her. She was an evil, coldhearted bitch, and I had little doubt the world would be a better place without her. I was convinced she drank liquid nitrogen for breakfast, just to keep her heart chilled. But I'd never left one of my people behind, and I wasn't about to start now. I looked around wildly and saw the Mercedes armored limo.

  "Manuel, stay with Turner and guard the aircraft. If they damage it, we may as well dig our own graves. Turner, taxi away from here as far away as you can get. When we come out, we'll use the Mercedes to come to you. Niall, she must be inside the house. Let's go find her."

  Without waiting for an acknowledgement, I raced back to the house and ran inside. Niall was right behind me, and we had to vault over the bodies that lay strewn across the floor of the passage. There were even more bodies in the lobby where our grenades had done their deadly work. We gunned past the wreckage of the main living room, where Khan's body lay broken and bloody amidst the ruins of his home, and reached a door leading into a small study. She was in there, rummaging through a desk.

  "Winter, for fuck's sake, we have to get out."

  She didn't look up. "Listen guys, this is an intelligence goldmine. All of his contacts, smuggling routes, names, addresses, bank accounts, you name it. They won't believe this when I get it back to our Cairo station."

  I nodded at Niall, and we ran forward. I grabbed her body, he grabbed her legs, and we raced back out of the building. She screamed and shouted; struggling to keep hold of a pile of documents she'd snatched up at the last moment.

  "Let me go, let me go! I have to get the rest of it."

  We ignored her, ran out of the house, and reached the armored Mercedes. Niall flung open the rear door. We tossed her in, and he jumped in beside her. I leapt into the driver's seat, started the engine, and stamped down on the gas pedal. The men running up from the guardhouse had seen us enter the limo, and they opened fire. Bullets peppered the bodywork, and a couple of cracks appeared in the armored glass, but it held. Obviously, Khan was a man who only bought the best. Maybe he'd have a slap up funeral. He could afford it, once they'd put all his body parts back together. Or they could use a small box, like they use for jigsaws. Whatever.

  Turner had swung the plane around as far from the house as possible, and he was into wind, ready to takeoff and to fly straight into the guns of the guards still coming at us.

  I stopped the limo. We catapulted out, dived through the door of the Cessna, and Manuel dragged us into the cabin. The aircraft was already moving, and I could feel the back draft of the propeller as Turner gunned the engine.

  "How much of a takeoff roll do you need?" I asked him.

  He grimaced. "About as fa
r as where those guards are waiting to shoot the shit out of us."

  I turned to Niall and Manuel. "Our only chance is to try and scatter them. If they hit us with concentrated bursts, we'll never get off the ground."

  They nodded, took out their clips and checked the remaining rounds, and then slapped them back in. I didn't need to ask. The situation was grim. I looked around, and I could see a narrow agricultural track that ran through the fields, to intercept the track leading up to the house. In their haste, they'd opened the gate for some reason, and half a mile away, out on the road from Luxor, I saw movement. A white SUV had just arrived, a battered Russian-built Lada. Isra! I tapped Turner on the shoulder and pointed him out.

  "Yeah, so what?"

  "Head down there. At the end, turn onto the main track and out through the gates. Isra is out there with the SUV."

  "That's crazy. It'll tear off the wings if I head that way. It's too narrow. "

  "If we don't get out, they'll take your arms and legs as well if they catch up with us. It's either us or the plane."

  He took a last look around and ducked as a half-dozen shots peppered the fuselage. Two of them cracked the windscreen and left it cracked and starred. It was enough for Turner. He pushed the throttle forward to full and taxied toward the narrow lane between the fields.

  The wing tips were several feet above the cannabis crop, and we picked up speed, but as we reached the gate, it was obvious he Turner was right. We weren't going to make it. Not with any wings attached to the aircraft. To his credit, Turner didn't hesitate, although he muttered, "I'll never find another one like this. She's a one-off."

  "So is your life," I snapped back at him.

  He didn't reply, just headed straight for the open gateway. Two more guards were standing in the way, their assault rifles raised and ready to fire. Their eyes widened at the impossible sight of an aircraft rushing toward them along the ground; an aircraft that wasn't about to stop.

  At the last second, they threw themselves to the side, and we smashed through. The wings broke away clean, and Turner used the rudder to steer us onto the road, but our luck was never going to last. A Cessna is not a vehicle designed for high speed taxiing, especially without any wings. After the first few hundred yards, we swerved as he hit a pothole, and at the same time a crosswind swung the tail around. The starboard wheel went into the drainage ditch. We hung on as the fuselage reared up, and the Cessna flipped on its back. Turner snatched a few documents and the canvas grenade bag, as he flung open the door.

  "Get out now! She could go up at any moment."

  I jumped to the ground. Manuel followed, but Niall was struggling with Winter.

  "Lend me a hand. She's out cold," he shouted at us.

  We ran to help, twisted and maneuvered her body out onto the ground, and carried her out of danger. I could smell gasoline, and at first I thought the fuel tank had ruptured. But as I pulled Winter through the door, I could see Turner had opened a side hatch, taken out a fuel can and was sprinkling gas around the aircraft. He wasn't about to wait for the gas to catch fire. He was making damn sure. He saw my look.

  "Can't leave her. Even without markings, there could be something that will pin her to me. Get clear! In a few seconds, she's going up."

  I could swear I saw a tear in his eye. It was obvious the vintage Cessna really had been his pride and joy, too bad.

  We dragged Winter further away, and I bent to see if she was badly hurt. She was lucky. She was already beginning to come round, and Isra was heading toward us in the Lada to pick us up. Shots were still coming at us from the gateway, but they were badly aimed. The Russian SUV braked to a halt. We tossed Winter inside and then climbed in; except Turner, and I shouted across to him.

  "We're leaving. Finish it now."

  He nodded, flicked his zippo, and threw it into the pool of gasoline that lay underneath the fuselage. A trickle of flame appeared, and then with a huge 'whoosh', the Cessna disappeared in a fireball. Turner ignored the shots that pinged over his head and walked toward the Lada. I swear he considered ending it all, throwing himself onto the pyre of the burning Cessna. He was probably just calculating the amount he could inflate the insurance claim.

  He climbed in without a word, and Isra drove away in the direction of Luxor. I looked down at the sheaf of documents in my hand that I'd grabbed when Winter dropped them during the crash. One of them caught my eye. I read it carefully and then tucked it into my pocket. Isra glanced sideways, saw what I'd done, and said nothing. I guess he was sure the document was something to upset Winter. He'd be right.

  * * *

  Luxor, Egypt

  We were almost at the Nile Bridge when Turner spoke.

  "The deal was the body would be displayed in public."

  It had been a close run thing, and the adrenaline was still kicking around my body. If he expected a civil reply, he was about to be sorely disappointed.

  "You want to display the body, you get back there and get your stupid fucking head blown off in the attempt."

  He didn't take offence, just nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It was a good operation, and now the bastard's out of the equation. It's just a damn shame about my Cessna."

  Niall glanced at him. "You could take over his business. Think of all the extra profits. You could buy a dozen Cessnas if you want."

  A pause. "I guess."

  A thought occurred to me. If he was planning to renege on the deal, well...if I were him…

  "Major, let's be clear about this. We carried out our side of the bargain. We expect you to carry out yours."

  He thought for a moment and then gave me a tight nod. "I haven't forgotten. Get us back to the Luxor International Airport, and we can use the Antonov to fly back to Aswan."

  "Is that where he is, Mullah Mukhtar?"

  "I'll let you know when we get back."

  As we reached the checkpoint, Winter groaned and started to recover. Niall and Manuel did their best to keep her quiet, and I handed a few bucks to Isra for him to pay off the guards. We drove through the outskirts of Luxor, and she regained consciousness. She looked around and said, "What happened?" Her voice was low and hoarse. She was still in shock. For the first time I saw her looking dirty and disheveled, but she was still very beautiful. A pity it was only skin deep. Inside, she was as ugly as the rear end of a camel.

  "He's dead."

  "What about my documents?" Obviously a lady filled with compassion and sympathy for the fallen. I handed them over to her, and she frowned, "Why do you have them?"

  "You dropped them when the aircraft flipped over. I kept them safe for you."

  "All of them?" she asked suspiciously.

  "There wasn't exactly time to conduct a fingertip search, especially as Major Turner was pouring gasoline over the wreckage ready to torch it. But if you want to go back and check, be my guest."

  She didn't reply, just started rummaging through the pieces of paper. Isra gave me a sideways look, but I didn't return it. I could feel Winter staring at me from the rear of the car, but I ignored her. If she wanted the document that was missing, she could ask me, but that would mean her acknowledging its existence, something for the Ice Maiden to think about. And I had something to think about, too. What to do with that piece of paper I'd extracted from the files in Ghani Khan's office.

  Isra drove us straight to Luxor Airport, and we boarded Turner's Antonov. He got immediate clearance for a flight to Aswan, and we breathed a sigh of relief as the wheels left the ground. It meant the cops and the military hadn't discovered the gun battle and deaths at Khan's estate; when they did, there'd be enough shit flying around to plaster the pyramids.

  Winter cleaned up in the small bathroom in the rear of the aircraft, and then Isra followed suit. The three of us sat in our crumpled and stained clothes, reeling from the narrow escape we'd had from Luxor, and thinking about the future. The future had a name, Mullah Mukhtar. When Turner came through, we'd be able to finish the job we came here to do.


  The aircraft came into land, bounced on the tarmac a few times, and squealed to a stop. The smell from the burned brake linings and hot rubber was overpowering. Turner didn't seem to notice. He switched off and came aft.

  "I've noticed there's some kind of a security alert. Take a look outside."

  We all glanced through the windows. Aswan Airport always had a full complement of soldiers on guard, but now there were many more, as well as several Fahd 4x4 Armored Personnel Carriers. I idly wondered what was the occasion. It had something to do with the military coup; that was for sure. We saw a group of religious men, Imams, Mullahs, I never knew the difference, being hustled into a prison truck. Which meant it was part of the crackdown on the Muslim Brotherhood. That was fine by me, as long as they had something to keep them busy and out of our hair.

  Turner insisted we stash our weapons inside the aircraft.

  "The guards may be a bit tetchy if you disembark carrying pistols and assault rifles. Leave them on the Antonov, and I'll bring them round to the villa later on."

  I was unhappy about leaving my trusty Ruger, but it made sense. If they patted me down and found it, it could mean an uncomfortable night in the cells. Winter said she would stay behind, as she had something to discuss with Turner. The three of us walked down the air stair and into the terminal. Isra followed a short distance behind. I led the way to the security desk and noticed a bunch of plainclothes cops hanging around nearby. They were unmistakable, the brutal sneer and grazed knuckles were a dead giveaway. We walked into arrivals, and the plainclothes formed a block around us.