Out of LA

by Dennis Elder

  “And you never will,” said Mark as he gave the hand signal behind his back for the women and girls to slip down behind the embankment.

  The man was confused again. He sensed something was up.

  Mark reached for the radio and activated the send switch. “Take ready positions now. Commencing firing on my signal,” said Mark. Then he slipped the radio into his pocket.

  “Last chance to let us pass,” said Mark.

  The man sensed he was in trouble.

  “Look mister. You can’t negotiate with us. You can’t pass and you can’t go back with the women. You’ll be lucky if we give you anything for these women now,” said the man as he began to slowly back away from Mark.

  “Or what?” said Mark.

  “Or we’ll kill you and anyone else who tries to keep these girls here from us! That’s what!” shouted the man with an air of false confidence.

  “That’s what I thought you’d say,” said Mark, as he flipped he rifle’s safety switch to fire.

  The man panicked and reached for a handgun hidden in his belt. Before he could bring up the gun to fire Mark put a short 5 round burst into his chest. The guy flew into the air and slid back five feet until he came to stop.

  Mark didn’t hesitate and moved back toward the embankment and slid down far over the side. The women and girls were already down there. They had their guns ready, but if everything went as planned they wouldn’t need them. Now it was the other team’s turn.

  Frank had already told his two firing teams to begin shooting seven seconds after he heard Mark’s gun fire. The extra seven seconds brought another ten curious men to the edge of the sandbags, as they looked down where the women use to be standing. For Frank, Jake, Tyrone and the others, it was suddenly a target rich environment.

  The regulars had SmartScopes and had already sighted in nine of the 40 or so men standing along the enemy’s front line. All nine men died instantly.

  William, Robert, Jacob and Jeremy all hit their primary targets as well. Two of the men died and two went down with serious wounds.

  “Single shots!” shouted Frank. “Conserve your ammo. Pick your targets.”

  The regulars with their SmartScopes were able to pick and kill another 25 men as they tried to fire back. However, the sheer numbers of men along the enemy’s front line was beginning to swell as other men woke and ran to the line with their guns. The alarm had obviously been sounded and bullets were beginning to find their way toward Frank and his spread-out firing line. The regulars and the boys keep up a steady stream of fire. Most of the enemy who showed their heads caught a bullet within seconds. Frank kept his scope centered on the 50 cal. That was the beast they needed to stay clear of. Finally, somebody jumped on it and pointed it their way.

  “Everybody down now!” shouted Frank. The men and boys obeyed quickly and slid back down the embankment about ten feet.

  It was a good thing. Just above their heads the ground shook violently as the large caliber machine gun tracked across their firing line and tore through pavement and dirt. If they had remained there a second longer they would have been cut to pieces.

  Above the enemy’s front line and to their backsides hid Tyrone and Jake. They had been firing the TAC 50 ever since Frank’s guys started firing. They were over a thousand yards away but for Jake that was well within his effective target range. He’d fired over 20 single shot rounds since the party started. Tyrone was feeding him preloaded magazines. Jake was reloading them fast enough to keep going without stopping. Jake was sure he’d made a kill on all 20 of the shots. Maybe only one was wounded. But even if the TAC’s large caliber bullet nicked a man at that range the pressure blast to the body was almost always a death sentence.

  Now Jake was centered on the big 50 cal machine gun. As soon as an enemy put their hands on the 50 cal’s trigger Jake centered the new guy’s head in the TAC 50 scope and squeeze off a deadly round.

  No matter how many times he’d been forced to shoot at long distances it never ceased to amaze him how long the bullet took to travel a thousand yards. He certainly heard the gun go off each time he fired, but there was a definite period of time, a brief hesitation before the bullet found it’s mark and created a blood spray on the opposite side of the target.

  “Amazing what advanced technology can do,” he thought to himself.

  Frank noticed that the 50 cal machine gun fire was becoming less regular. So, Frank picked up his radio.

  “We clear to assist yet?” asked Frank into the radio.

  Tyrone picked up his radio and replied, “Not quite yet. Let’s give it a few more seconds to make sure. I’ll let you know when you can return fire again.”

  Mark listened in on the conversation. He and the girls were keeping their heads down and out of any stray fire.

  “How’s the plan going so far, Major?” asked Sylvia who as three girls down from Mark.

  “So far so good,” said Mark. Then he picked up the radio.

  “Tyrone,” asked Mark. “Can Jake put a bullet into the trigger mechanism of that 50 cal from your present position.”

  “I’ll ask him,” replied Tyrone.

  “I heard him,” said Jake without taking his eye off this TAC’s scope. “Give me a sec.”

  “Stand by,” said Tyrone.

  Another hero jumped up on the 50 cal and Mark dropped him like their predecessors. With no one holding the big gun anymore, the barrel of the gun dropped a degree or two and then froze in position. Jake centered the TAC 50 cross hairs on the machine gun’s trigger mechanism. This was a much smaller target. So, he took his time. The wind had picked up a bit right to left. He calculated the drift compensation in his head, took a long deep breath and held it like so many times before and squeezed the trigger. Half a second later the TAC’s 50 caliber bullet smashed down though the back of the gun with tremendous force. The bullet penetrated the big gun’s back housing and ricocheted up and into the firing chamber. The results were immediate and impressive. The impact fired off the round in the chamber along with the two bullets in the incoming belt. Those explosions set off the remaining 34 rounds sitting in the ammo box mounted on the side of the machine gun. That resulted in an even bigger explosion that sent hundreds of quarter sized metal fragments into the backs of the bad guys firing down on Frank’s protected position. Jake was sure the gun was inoperable now.

  “They can return fire now. The 50 cal is dead,” said Jake, as he began searching for additional targets.

  “Frank,” said Tyrone into the radio. “Be assured the 50 cal is out of commission. You may return fire at will.”

  Down below Mark heard the good news over the radio and looked down the line at the apprehensive girls and Silvia.

  “The worst part is over now,” said Mark.

  Frank passed the word to the other eight men and four boys that the 50 cal was no longer a threat. They slowly climbed back up to the embankment ride line and raised their rifles at the remaining men at the front line.

  Mark turned to the four boys and said, “Look, we’re getting to the end of this now. So, no need to do anything heroic. Find a target, fire once and then duck down. Move a little each time you make a shot. Don’t ever stick your head back up in the same place. Jake’s shots will demoralize them soon enough. No John Wayne shit, Ok?”

  The four boys nodded and slowly crawled up to the same height the men were already at. They began to shoot as instructed. The concentrated firepower of their 12 automatic rifles took an immediate toll. By the time Frank’s team had emptied a clip or two, there were only about 60 of the enemy still alive. Most were realizing they were outgunned. Many dropped their weapons and tried to find a place to hide. Every so often one of Frank’s team killed another man on the line across from them. As advertised, the SmartScope’s were especially effecting in targeting and killing men who thought they were hidden behind a bush or sandbag.

  Jake methodically kept firing his sniper rifle. He fired only on the men who were who attempted to fire dow
n on Frank’s position. After about ten more minutes the firing from the bad guy’s stopped completely. That left about 35 men alive. None of them were holding their guns anymore. They were lying flat on the ground or huddled in a ball, frozen with terror.

  “I think Frank can move up on them now,” said Jake. “There’s about 35 survivors but none of them look like they got any fight left. Tell him to come up on their flank and see if they’ll surrender.”

  Tyrone lifted his radio.

  “Frank,” said Tyrone. “Jake thinks they’re done. There are about 35 left and none seem interested in fighting anymore. Jake suggests you flank them to your right and then give them a surrender challenge.”

  Frank turned to Randy, Sam and Boon and gave them a series of hand signals that only trained Special Forces personnel would understand. They took off in a low sprint to their right and climbed up the grade until they reached I-15’s southbound lane. Before crossing the open road, they raised their rifles to check for targets. None of the bad guys raised their heads. Boon kept his rifle pointed at the front line while and Sam and Randy sprinted up the second grade and positioned themselves above and just slightly to the right of the remaining bad guys. Sam and Randy found a few large rocks for cover. Sam waved up Boon. Once Boon was up with them Sam waived the Ok back down to Frank who had been watching their progress through his SmartScope. Sam, Randy and Boon had very clear shots at the remaining men. If any of them resisted they’d cut them down.

  Frank raised his head slightly above the grade of the embankment. He didn’t want to expose too much of his body just in case there were any heroes still up there. He’d grown very fond of his head over the years. Then he took a deep breath.

  “You behind the sandbags!” shouted Frank.

  There was no response. Usually there was no response the first time you addressed a defeated enemy. Seemed like nobody wanted to be the guy to responded first. Frank took another deep breath.

  “Again… you behind the sandbags!” shouted Frank one more time.

  This time a solitary figure of a small man raised a single hand over the top of the sandbags in front of him. He was obviously terrified.

  “We surrender,” shouted the little man. Frank could barely hear his response. Boon, Sam and Randy heard the man clear enough. Nobody with him seemed to object. The little man slowly stood up while raising his hands far above his dirty and receding hairline.

  “Dam right you surrender,” shouted Frank. “If you want to live, everybody drops their weapons and walks down to the freeway blacktop. When you get there put your stomachs flat on the asphalt and place your hands behind your backs.”

  “And don’t try anything stupid,” added Frank. “There are three men behind you with automatic weapons. You as much as reach to scratch your ear and they will waist you in less than a second.”

  The little man turned back slightly and looked up for the three men. He saw them behind some rocks and in a gesture of good faith waived slightly at Boon. Boon waved back.

  Slowly the rest of the men stood up and put their hands above their heads. One by one they all began walking down the sandy and brush covered embankment toward the southbound lane of I-15. Once they were all on their way, Boon and Randy ran down to their front line sandbag position and covered the broken men as they continued to stumble down the hill. Boon then signaled Sam to follow.

  Once the men were all face down on the asphalt Boon shouted down to Frank.

  “All clear!”

  It was then that Frank turned back to his remaining team. Immediately he noticed that Robert wasn’t with the group. When he stood up he saw the boy on his back a few feet back down the hill. He wasn’t moving and it looked like a bullet had hit him in the head.

  “Dam,” said Frank. That got the other men and boy’s attention as they looked back at what Frank was referring to.

  “Robert?” said Jacob, as he turned around to look down at Robert’s body. “But he was here just a second ago.” He was Ok. I didn’t even see him….”

  The group was silent. The men had grown very fond of Robert. Silvia and the girls would be heartbroken. Soon Jacob, William and Jeremy were wiping tears from their eyes. Robert was their friend and brother.

  Frank sighed and then turned back to the team.

  “Doc,” began Frank. “Check on Robert. If he’s dead, try and find a nice place to bury him at the top of the pass. Have the boy’s help dig the grave. I know Mark will want to get moving again as quick as possible. Junior and I will go up and help deal with the prisoners.”

  As Junior and Frank climbed the sandy ridge that led to the southbound lane of I-15 above them, Frank triggered his radio.

  “We’re all clear up here, Mark and Tyrone,” said Frank. Major, I suggest we meet at the top of the pass where the South and North bound lanes come back together.

  “Roger that,” said Tyrone as he and Jake began picking up their equipment.

  “10-4,” said Mark.

  “Mark?” added Frank.

  “Yea,” replied Mark through his radio as he and the girls were getting up and climbing up the steep embankment.

  “We had one casualty,” said Frank. “We lost Robert. Probably just a stray bullet but he was killed instantly. Thought you’d want to tell Silvia and the girls.”

  Mark and the women were just coming up back on to the asphalt shoulder of the freeway when they radio reported Robert’s death. Everyone heard Frank’s voice clearly.

  “Roger that,” said Mark in a reverent voice. “We’ll meet you at the top.”

  Silvia was the most shaken. These kids were her family and the loss of Robert shook her to the core. She stood still and stared at Mark.

  “Dead?” said Silvia. “Little man Robert is dead?”

  “No,” gasped Connie. Connie loved Robert. He was always very kind to her. “Not Robert.”

  Silvia and the girls were crushed. Tears flowed as Connie fell into Cheryl’s arms. Soon Connie was sobbing. Teresa very slowly wrapped her long arms around Silvia. Silvia didn’t make a sound but her tears dropped like rain. The group was suddenly paralyzed.

  Susan moved over to Mark’s side.

  “They might need a couple of minutes to collect themselves, Mark,” said Susan.

  Mark knew Silvia and girls were hurting but he needed to keep the group moving. They were very exposed on this section of the freeway.

  “Unfortunately, time is the one thing we don’t have,” replied Mark.

  Mark looked at his watch and pulled the radio to this mouth.

  “Frank, when ready, give me a status on the prisoners,” said Mark.

  “Roger that,” said Frank into his radio.

  By now Frank and Junior were walking on the upper southbound lane’s asphalt and headed straight for Boon, Randy and Junior, who were covering the prisoners.

  “How many we got?” asked Frank.

  “33 left,” said Sam.

  “You searched ‘um yet?” asked Frank.

  “Nope,” replied Sam.

  Frank knew they needed to make sure the prisoners were unable to retaliate against the group. Survivors always wanted to get some payback. He knew he should search them too. He thought about multiple solutions.

  “You men on the ground,” began Frank. “Stand up.”

  The men hesitantly pulled their hands away from their backs and slowly pushed themselves up and stood before Frank, Boon and the others. You could tell some of the men thought they were about to be executed.

  “Listen up,” continued Frank. “You get one chance here. One chance to live. You do exactly what I tell you and you survive. You deviate, you object, you challenge us in anyway and we’ll kill you dead where you stand.”

  Frank looked over the men to make sure they were paying attention.

  “Are we clear on that?” shouted Frank.

  A few of the men nodded their heads and mumbled an uncoordinated, “yes.”

  “Good,” replied Frank. “Then this is what we’re goin
g to do. First each of you strip down to your t-shirts and skivvies. Everything else is off and thrown over the side of the embankment here. If anyone tries to pull a gun or makes a funky move that any of us don’t like, then we shoot you down like the slave trading scum bags you are.”

  Frank paused for a moment for effect.

  “Understood?” shouted Frank.

  The men understood and nodded their heads. Slowly each of them started taking off their clothes and began throwing them over the eastern embankment.

  Halfway through the effort one of the men raised his hand to ask a question.

  Frank saw the guy and nodded to him to speak.

  “What about our shoes?” asked the timid man.