After the third grenade heave, the crowd capable of motion ran, and Allah take the hindmost. With the smoke, screams, and panicked flight of the Muslim stampede, I managed to work my way into position for a military strike. With the M32, I made scrap metal out of everything they had except for the Humvee with machine gun. They didn’t have a clue what was happening, so they ran after firing into their own crowd. That caused a melee, because a couple of them got caught in the stampede of unhappy true believers.
“Holy shit! What the hell are you doing, Rick?”
“Russian please, comrade. Show some professionalism. Thanks for outing me in your first sentence. What did you think I was going to do? Hold your water, kid. I see an opportunity for us to get a ride to the airport. Pack up and head through the tunnel. By the time you get to the exit, I hope to be arriving with a great ride.”
“On it!”
With .45 Colt in hand now, I made my way through the smoke, dead, and screaming to die. Crouching down to utter words of comfort, I arrived at my targeted ride unmolested. I jumped behind the wheel and started her up. She purred like the proverbial kitten with a full tank of gas. Then some bearded blighter with an AK47 ran up, shouting out questions about what I was doing. I shot him right between the horns, and ran his ass over. On the road for a Carl pickup, I hit another snag. They put together a road block with road debris. I stopped for a moment, fired three rounds from the M32 into their barricade. That opened the way in a somewhat darkly comical type way. Then it was smooth sailing for my young partner.
“ETA forty seconds, comrade.”
“Be there in thirty, Rick.”
In moments, Carl was sitting next to me with his robed disguise on, and the M4 ready. It had only taken him a minute to load in our trunk and the Barrett.
“What the hell are we going to do now until Lo can pick us up?”
“Damn… kid… you’re kind of needy. Call her while we’re in transit and get an update.”
Lo spoke on speaker a moment later. “Did you cowboys get clear of the embassy?”
“Yep. Any update on an ETA pickup at El Rahaba?”
“I’ve engaged Matt in Samtah. We’ll have lift off soon. We’re a couple hours away by the crow flies, Rick. What the hell will you do until we get there?”
“Probably kill a lot of people, but only if they discover my hidey hole I plan to wait out the intervening time in.”
“We’re already being deluged with news of an explosive attack near the embassy.”
“Must be a coincidence. No animals have died during our escape from the embassy.”
I enjoyed Lo’s inappropriate cackling.
“I sure hope you’re still there when we arrive, partner.”
“Yeah… me too, Lo.” I disconnected. “Hey, Carl, you wouldn’t report me for talking while driving, would you?”
“I’ll let it pass if you tell me where the hell we’re headed.”
“The Post Office on Hayel Street. We’ll stay under the radar there if we can, and head to the airport when Lo gets near to touchdown.”
“I’m glad it’s getting dark. I was dreading it before. Lo didn’t mention any backup from our carrier force. All it would take for a guaranteed rescue would be a couple flybys from our Carrier force in Aden.”
I’m thinking we’d need to be in a different dimension for that wish to come true. “Our only card in the hole was that diversion. It will take hours for the military and Islamic Jihad clowns to gather their lamo thoughts together after what I did. I was a very bad boy, Carl. One of their leaders had center stage. He foamed at the mouth in anticipation, while outlining to his herd of sheep what they would be doing to us. The grenade made him into red paste.”
“We’re in one of those situations where I’m tallying the body count in my head so in case things don’t work out on your geezer wish list, I can go out with a smile, knowing we didn’t get murdered on our knees.”
Amen to that. “Or roasted on a spit like our last ambassador travesty with peaceful Islam.”
The post office was dark. Traffic on Hayel Street was nonexistent after my diversion. I settled us into a dark spot, shut off the motor, and listened to the sounds of sirens in the distance. I recited a little geezer prayer of thanks to have reached this moment, slumping down in the Yemen military Humvee with a sigh. I didn’t waste a lot of time resting on my laurels as a murdering infidel. I popped the partial clip for a full one on my .45 Colt. I kept the silencer on in the event we needed more infidel violence without bang.
“Damn, Rick, you give me hope for my sunset years. I think I like your guarding movie stars better than this embassy gig stuff. I read about you playing Bogart’s Rick from ‘Casablanca’ in a beautiful San Diego restaurant setting, complete with singing celebrities. Yet… here you are… playing games in the sand with some deadly playmates. Are you mental?”
“Go ahead. Get it out of your system, noodle-head. I already admitted Lo and I passed a couple of ho hum decades playing private detective. Complacency hit, followed by the false geezer infallibility feeling. We pulled off stunts stateside in the last year we didn’t do when we were doing Company business back in the day. Lo and I ran into trouble with my self-defense hits on two Mossad agents. We had to give back a little to get some squirming room. They covered us on Adina’s death. We owed them. Did we think they’d Benghazi us on our first consult… well hell no. Do I think they made a deal with the Mossad on how to sanction us without anyone in the US or Israel involved? Yeah, I’m considering it, but the Mossad usually handle their inner retribution like the ‘Klingons’. They serve the revenge dish quietly when you least expect it. This diplomacy maneuver reeks of politics from the good old USA. Lo says our main man Van Carmichael is working to get us back in one piece. Van is one of the good guys.”
“Unless Van decided to write you old fogey’s off,” Carl replied. “I don’t trust anyone anymore, but I trust you and Lo. No matter what happens, if you and Lo stay out of prison, would either of you give me a second opinion on a mission I get assigned?”
Too bad he has to ask. “Hell yeah. We’re brothers after this mission, Carl. We all hit stateside in one piece without fallout, and we’ll have your back from now until infinity… that will probably be a few years as the crow flies.”
Carl laughed. “Good. I love this shit, cluster fucks and everything. I don’t want to be sacrificed on the political altar though.”
“We can help you with that to the best of our ability. Unfortunately, you’re living in a dominion of no one is responsible land. I appreciate that soldiers like you take on the missions no one else will do. God knows there are a bunch of you. We’ll help in any way we can.”
The hours passed by with very little entertainment until they found out no one was at home in the embassy. We heard the gunfire, explosions, and general mayhem as they took out their Islamic rage on inanimate objects. Carl and I were of the opinion if they really peaked on the rage, they’d begin on each other. Then we noted the patrols with searchlights. Apparently, our disappearing act didn’t last as long as I’d hoped. When one of them headed down our street, we locked and loaded. I called Lo.
“ETA twenty minutes, Rick. Since you’ve broken silence, I’m thinking you’re about to start brawlin’.”
“Yep. This is going to be tight. If you have the Iroquois prepped for some close order combat, it may be a help.”
“I’m sittin’ at the M60 machine gun right now, and brother, when we hover down I’ll whack anything with a heartbeat near you. Send me your escape route. We’ll follow it on our way to the airport if this gets too hairy for a legitimate LZ.”
“That’ll work, Lo. Best to get off line now. I’ll send the escape route.”
“Don’t make me have to lay waste to Sana’a, Rick.”
I smiled. “Okay… but it will be close.” I disconnected, knowing if they got me, there might be as many as a thousand true believers following me into the afterlife. “Lo will be on the fifty, so if
we draw a crowd on our way to the airport, they might do a line drop to us.”
“Sure you’re up to that, Fossil?”
“Let’s put it this way, Noodle-head, if you’re on the climb ahead of me, best you move your ass on the line. Otherwise… I goose you with this.” I showed him my fixed blade Gerber double serrated dagger. “Besides, we have to get aboard quick, because Lo will fire the M60 until there won’t be anything left around us. Her rules of engagement cover you and me. Everyone else is a target. There were more than a few people who underestimated Lois Madigan. You don’t hear about them, because you’d need a séance to speak with them. Uh oh… cut the chit chat. They may have triangulated my call out.”
An armored vehicle slowly approached along Hayel Street. I left the Humvee with my M32. “If he slows, I’m toasting him, Carl.”
“Understood.”
I took a knee out of sight near our Humvee as the headlights and searchlight drew nearer. No optimistic formulas came to mind. I simply concentrated on straightening, and delivering a 40mm grenade into the enemy vehicle’s breadbasket. Carl would start the Humvee, and we’d be off to the races. I let a little hope seep into my head that the bored dumbasses were proceeding by rote with nothing on their minds but getting home to a nice halal meal – not happening. The vehicle’s searchlight caught our Humvee in its beam, and the vehicle skidded to an abrupt stop. I didn’t hesitate to blow them all to hell.
With Carl in the driver’s seat, we hauled ass toward the airport. “Pull over here, Carl.”
“Did you get wounded in the head?” Carl did as asked.
I retrieved my Barrett out of the back. We weren’t on a curvy road. I had a straight shot at pursuit, and now was the time to take it. I sighted in with the Barrett down the way, my night vision scope making any pursuer visible. The first unfortunate made a terrific blaze. It must have been loaded. I sighted in on the driver. His head decorated the cab before the Humvee he was driving did a couple of barrel roles into fiery oblivion. That slowed pursuit completely, but all good things must come to an end. One of their military helicopters descended to our trail at the disaster zone. The M32 brought it down in fiery ruin as it hovered slowly toward us. Then it was time to go. The M32 hit removed all doubt about where we were. We were nearing Airport Road by then, where the surroundings thinned out considerably.
“Damn… old man… those were some entertaining in your grill shots,” Carl commented while weaving toward the airport with lights off. “I hope they’re enough to keep them guessing for a while.”
“We ain’t that lucky, Carl. Here comes the follow up.” Two military light attack helicopters zipped toward us as if they knew where we were. “Keep zigzagging, Carl, but mix your zigs and zags… or else. I’ll get in the back, and try to hit them before they see us. The pricks even have a Browning fifty caliber mounted… bastards! Oh… wait a minute… I like this. Stir our trail, Carl.”
“On it.”
I slipped behind the roof mounted Browning, and blew one of our pursuers away into flaming ruin. The second one launched its missiles before I could get a bead on it. Uh oh! I dove to the front, whipped the steering wheel dead left, plowing into a house. We ended the flight from the crazies on our side. The missiles detonated uncomfortably near us, jarring the Humvee into the air momentarily before it settled into stillness. Carl and I scrambled out with what we could in the intervening moments. I had to leave my beloved Barrett, but cleared the wreckage with the M32, and filled the six round clip. Carl came out with the M4 and clips for our handguns as well as the M4 - enough to make a deadly stand.
The Yemen military attack helicopter zipped in ignorantly over our downed Humvee. I blew it to hell with a single 40mm hit from the M32. I called Lo.
“We’re on foot nearing Althawrah Park with many dead enemy behind us. I have five loads for the M32, but they may decide to nuke us from orbit, including their own civilians.”
“Understood. Keep the satellite phones on. We have your position. We’ll try for pickup in the park. Keep moving, and put some Hooterville moves on them.”
“I will if I can.” I disconnected as we continued jogging toward Althawrah Park along the last of the residential houses. “This is great. I didn’t get my workout in this morning.”
“It’s been real, Rick. Put one in my head if I can’t get ‘er done.”
“Will do. I’m hopin’ for a knife fight.” I paused as Carl laughed his ass off while trying to keep running. “I plan to go out like the Disneyland version of the Davey Crockett saga in the fifties.”
“You… are… insane.” Carl slapped my shoulder. “Let’s do some damage, Porky.”
“Yep. It’s time to pay for all our high livin’ the last few days.”
My wind was good, the sky clear, and the streets without a soul on them. We paced ourselves until the plethora of attack helicopters zoomed into the area, following the trail of debris. Damn… I wished it would have been feasible to bring the Barrett on this moonlight sojourn. Such is life… we don’t always get what we want or need, like the old ‘Rolling Stones’ song. That was the one going on in my head when the first ‘zoomie’ plowed ahead toward us.
I planted him in a spectacular explosion with two shots from the M32. It definitely distracted his cohorts. They flew off in all directions, thinking they were under rocket attack from multiple sources. See… the bad guys never know when the USA decides ‘screw this, we’re comin’ for you’. The only thing they know is when it happens, it’s like the hand of God. When America goes big, we hitch up our pants, fists up, and game face on – if you’re the enemy, get out your Swastikas, Rising Sun pillows, and prayer mats. Kiss your loved ones goodbye, because when America decides to stop turning the other cheek, we plant your cheeks in the ground with your cities wrapped around you like a comfort blanket.
Unfortunately… Carl and I were in a situation preceding that day of determination. Our enemy didn’t know that though. They thought maybe they’d gone one step too far in their poke the bear scenario. It took a few short moments for them to realize the big dog had not been loosed to rip their throats out – but only a couple of small gnats to be crushed. The gnats weren’t too eager to be crushed, so when our propeller driven adversaries approached again, we kept on the move toward the park. We did however create a very destructive backlash as we went.
Since Carl and I were both packing all the extra clips for the M4, and our handguns, we figured to save as many of the M32 grenade rounds as we could. Carl knelt down, sprayed a very accurate M4 shot grouping through the front windshield of the first attack helicopter syncing in with our signal. It nicely dived into the road behind, making it extremely difficult for armored four wheel pursuit from that direction.
The civilians began to get annoyed with the destruction. They came out to protest. I took the silencer off the .45 Colt. Yes, I did refrain from shooting anyone… until one of them blocked our progress. He approached with an AK47 waving, and his mouth spewing nonsense. I saw him leave the house he lived in with a wife and kids huddled at his door.
“Go back inside your house! If you aim the rifle, I will kill you!” I shouted at him in Arabic. Dressed as we were, we could have been anyone. He hesitated. “In a moment, your wife will be a widow, and your children fatherless! Do not make me kill you!”
His wife heard me. She ran out to grab him. He nearly shrugged her off until his brood joined in around him. Carl and I picked up the pace while moving down the street, hugging whatever cover we ran by. We thankfully neared the outskirts of the park before another wave of pursuit caught us. We jumped the intervening barricade bordering the park, heading to the open area on our left we’d have to hold for a landing zone. This was going to be close.
“We’re approaching you from the airport side, Rick. Touch down in one minute. I have an armored column under me on Airport Road heading for your position. Wait one. Hit ‘em Matt.”
The ground under us shook as flames spewed into the sky between the air
port and park. “Damn… Money Matt loaded the rocket pods. “Shit Carl… incoming! How many helicopters did we give these assholes?”
“Too many,” Carl replied. “I’m glad you packed the armor piercing rounds for the M4. Three of them on the way, and they've discovered the fact they need to approach from different directions. Persistent turds… I’ll give them that.”
As the three attack helicopters began a triangulating approach, the one on our right disintegrated by what could have only been a Stinger missile. “Someone sent a Reaper, Carl.”
“I thought they were still in the development stage for carrying the Stingers,” Carl replied, while pumping rounds into the oncoming center helicopter.
“I’d say it passed the test. I bet-”
The approaching helicopter on our left turned into a fire ball, and that was enough for the one in the center. It began to bank right, but before it could turn, the Iroquois arrived. I heard the distinct sound of an M60 machine gun. We watched the rounds stitch across the retreating helicopter. The cockpit blew apart under a honed pattern. The copter nosedived into the ground. The Iroquois banked away, settling down near us. Carl and I ditched our satellite phones before diving aboard the Iroquois past where Lo sat behind the M60. A moment later, we were airborne again. We settled in next to Lo, me with the M32, and Carl with his M4. Matt stayed low. After putting on flight head gear, us Sana’a refugees could speak. I patted Lo’s shoulder.
Rick Cantelli, PI: Into the Darkness (Rick Cantelli, P.I. Detectives Book 3) Page 3
