by Rob Buckman
“I confirm, she’s leaking like a sieve.” Mike made a slight adjustment and turned his attention to the guards on the roof. He ranged on each of them, looking to see which one he should take out first. With the chimney stack and roof peaks, several were out of view from the others at any given moment. Having just changed shifts no one would know they were all dead for at least two hours when the next shift came on. By then it wouldn’t matter as the rest would probably be dead as well. He picked the furthest and waiting for the moment he turned to walk back. At that moment, he actually stopped to look around and that was his undoing. The shot actually flipped him off the roof when it hit his head. Mike immediately switched to the second guard at the back who hadn’t turned yet and hadn’t seen that his buddy was missing. When he did turn and take note, it was too late and he too flipped off the roof. The other three were still unaware what was happening and one by one, they went down.
“So far so good. No alarm yet.”
“Good, that means they don’t have body monitors.”
“Told you it was amateur night.”
“Helo guards next. They are both out of sight to anyone else.”
“Go for it.” Bonner read off the adjustment after Mike reloaded and settled back behind the scope. This was going to be two quick snap shots, as neither of them were far enough apart not to notice the other one go down. This time he chose a chest shot and dropped the first guard to his knees, dead before he hit the ground. The second guard froze for a second as he turned, maybe asking the other guard what was wrong. He never got the answer as the 250-gr bullet exploded his head.
“Got a roomful of tangos at 10 o’clock – window shot at 1100 yards.”
“Let me have one of the frag rounds.” Mike held out his hand while keeping the crosshairs on the window and feeding the round into the breech when Bonner handed it over. Looking through the rifle's telescopic sight, the gunman then estimated the distance from this object to the target. He pressed a button near the trigger to add the distance value determined by the laser rangefinder.
When he fired the round, the internal computer counted the number of rotations it made, to calculate the distance flown. The rifle's muzzle velocity is 210 meters a second, which is the starting point for the calculation. When the computer calculates that the round has flown the requisite distance, it issues the instruction to detonate. The explosion creates a burst of shrapnel that is lethal within a radius of several meters. The round punched through the window glass and detonated a fraction of a second later, killing all six men inside. Now the cat was out of the bag, and Mike switched magazines to Thermite rounds and quickly ignited the gas pouring out of the SUV gas tanks and the fuel under the helicopter. All six vehicles and the chopper erupted in flames, effectively preventing anyone from escaping. Even as Mike got to his knees and start packing the sniper rifle away, Bonner was doing the same and as Mike slung the long case off his shoulder, Bonner handed him the silenced L129A1.
“Locked and loaded.”
“Thanks. Let’s bounce.”
A thousand yards might not seem far in flat open ground but in dense jungle, downhill at night, on the run, even with night optics wasn’t for the faint of heart. Even as experienced as they were both took several tumbles before reaching the bottom of the slope. To avoid possible anti-personnel mines planted around the hacienda, they took off sideways to the road, which they knew was clear of mines except the ones they had planted further up. Trotting alongside the road itself and staying in the shadow of the jungle, they were able to get within twenty yards of the building without being seen. Now came the tricky part, as the furiously blazing vehicles and the flood light would reveal them to anyone watching. Mike motioned Bonner to head sideways under cover of the jungle growth around to the back of the house.
“Guess we need to go in the back door.” Mike muttered.
“Err… Mike this place doesn’t have a back door.”
“Not yet.” He chuckled, slipping his pack off.
He fished out a spray can and began spraying what looked like shaving soap in a big oval on the concrete wall, ending with a big X and a larger blob in the center. Bonner looked on with interest as he took a small box out of his pack and took out a detonator and timer. These he stuck in the large blob in the center of the oval, and out of curiosity, Bonner touched the substance, finding it hardening quickly now exposed to air. Mike motioned Bonner to follow him some distance away from the oval. He didn’t need to be told to cover his ears and open his mouth just before the concrete in the oval exploded into dust. The explosion was still loud even with ear plugs and their hands over their ears.
“Knock – knock!” Two ‘Thunder-flashes’ through the opening effectively stunned and blinded anyone left standing in the room.
They stepped through and the fire fight was on. The battle was a bit one sided, as with silenced weapons and night vision goggles, the bad guys had no idea where the firing was coming from until they were hit and by then it was too late. The explosion had also taken out the light on the ground floor, and they went from room to room taking out the trash. It turned out the drug lord had more men on hand than they thought, not that it mattered, anyone standing or with a weapon in his hands died. They were careful not to leave anyone alive who could follow them or who could offer a possible threat. The double staircase was the most dangerous, as anyone at the top had the advantage, and both took hits to their body armor before they eliminated the three shooters waiting for them. The bad part for them was that the upstairs lights were still on, back lighting the tangos and making themselves easy targets.
“Left or right?” Bonner asked.
“One each, I’ll take right.” Mike replied, reloading, even though he’d only used half a mag. Bonner did the same, not wanting to get caught with an empty weapon. The process was the same for each room, blow the door open and throw in a ‘Thunder-flash’ followed up with a burst of automatic weapons fire. Reaching the last room and clearing it, Bonner turned back, seeing Mike waiting for him outside a pair of double doors. He slide along the wall as a precaution and it was well he did, as several people inside opened up with an automatic weapons, riddling the door to the point it swung open. Mike nodded and they both pulled the tabs on the ‘Thunder-flashes’ and lobbed them inside before anyone could reload and fire again.
“OH FUCK!” was all they heard before both exploded in mid air.
“Fucking amateurs.” Bonner snarled as he stepped through the doorway in step with Mike. To Mike, it reminded him of his training in the ‘kill house’, identifying each target and ‘neutralizing them before they could recover.
“Cocksucking asshole!” Someone yelled and they both saw an older man stand up from behind an easy chair and start firing at them. Mike felt the round hit and staggered back, but Bonner took him out with a three round burst.
Quiet settled over the house except for someone sobbing in pain, not that either of them cared. Standing against the far wall, looking as pale as death, stood Roland Hawkins, a wet stain already spreading through his crotch.
“Hello asshole.” Mike called, as he pulled his ear plugs out. “Told you we’d meet again.”
Instead of a bedroom as he expected, this was more of a large dining room and the remains of their last meal were scattered about the table. Mike took a step towards Hawkins, feeling his left leg wobble. A quick look showed he’d been hit in the thigh, but the pain hadn’t started yet.
“Keep an eye on Mr. Hawkins while I wrap a field dressing around this.”
“Take a seat, dickhead.” Bonner motioned Hawkins to the chair at the head of the table. Shaking like a man with palsy, Roland Hawkins sat, his frightened eyes darting back and forth between the two blood-covered monsters. Putting his rifle on the table within easy reach, Mike wrapped a field bandage tightly around his thigh, his black combat rage gradually subsiding. He had Hawkins at his mercy, not that he felt any, but wondered what he was going to do with him now. Just shooting him dead seemed
anticlimactic somehow and Hawkins had so many sins to answer for, it was difficult to know where to start. The carving knife and fork used to carve the roast beef with gave him an idea where to start. Grabbing them and his rifle, Mike hopped to the end of the table.
“You left handed or right handed? He asked. For a second, Hawkins was puzzled by the question.
“R…right-handed,” he stuttered.
“Good.” Mike reached down and grabbed Roland’s right hand, beating it open and flat on the table. He then stabbed the carving knife through the center of Roland Hawkins’ hand. “That’s for the beating you gave my wife, he said over Hawkins screaming. Hawkins immediately reach over to pull the knife out but Mike grabbed his left hand and drove the carving fork through it. He screamed louder and tears started running down his face.
“You are one pathetic pile of shit, Hawkins.”
“Please… I’ll give you anything you want… millions.” Bonner walked over and smacked him on the back of his head with the rifle butt.
“You think you can buy your way out of this?” He snarled. “If so you are dumber than I thought.” Just then, they both heard a door open and they both swung their weapons to cover a side door.
“Shit!” Bonner muttered, quickly lifting the muzzle as the face of a young girl peeked out.
“Ven acá, little one.” Mike said, switching to Spanish. “Nadie te lastimará – No one will hurt you.” The girl looked around the room with frightened eyes, which went wide when she saw the dead bodies.
“Are all the bad men dead?” She asked.
“Si, Chiquita. They are all dead.” The young girl came into the room, hesitant and ready to run back at any second. She sidled around the table as far away as she could get from Roland Hawkins. And looked up at Bonner.
“¿Estás aquí para rescatarnos?”
“What she say?”
“She asked if we were here to rescue them… wait.”
You mean there are more of you here.” Mike asked in Spanish.
“Si… mucho… many here.” She pointed down. “In um…. Cellar.”
“Oh shit!” Bonner muttered. Mike pulled his ear-wig out and pushed it into his ear and keyed the radio, but nothing happened. He looked down and saw a bullet hole in his Tac vest, right over the radio.
“Call in the troops, my units busted.”
“Looks like it might have saved your life, my friend.”
“Gona have a lovely bruise tomorrow, just don’t tell Kay, okay.” Bonner smiled and keyed his radio.
“Iron Hat - this is Sunray Five, do you copy?” Static came back at him. “Iron Hat, this is Sunray Five – do you copy?”
“This is Iron Hat – copy you five by five Sunray five.”
“Iron Hat – You’d better send in the alphabet boys—they need to clean this place up.”
“Alphabet boys?”
“Yeah, you know, DEA – FBI – ATF, hell you might as well send in the CIA and NAS as well while you’re at it. This place is a gold mine from what we’ve seen. Drugs, human trafficking, illegal weapons and god knows what else. There are also hostages.”
“Stand by Sunray Five, troops are on their way—do you have the package?”
“Yeah, we tagged and bagged him and he’s still alive.” Mike leaned over and looked Roland Hawkins in the eye.
“I see a gleam in your eye and you’re probably thinking that your high powered scum sucking lawyers will get you off, don’t you?” Roland Hawkins didn’t have to say a word. That exactly what he was thinking.
“Think again asshole. You go straight to Gitmo, and you don’t get to pass GO and pick up the hundred dollars.”
“W…what?”
“After the Feds got through digging into your little operation at Peregrine Creek and Nevada, they raided your offices and guess what they found. Right now, you have been tagged as an international terrorist, what with the arms deals you made with Hezbollah and ISIS. If you ever get out of Gitmo, you’ll be transferred to Leavenworth for the rest of your life, but please feel free to try and escape.”
“Y...you can’t do that…”
“Wrong! You might also be interested to know you are broke as well. Odd thing how all your legal and illegal accounts turned up empty.” Mike laughed at the expression on Roland’s face.
“I made a onetime deal with Washington to take you alive if possible but if you escape or weasel out of this, there is a hundred thousand dollar bounty out on your head, dead or alive. You escape and I will collect it.” In the distance, they heard the chopper coming in.
“Time to go. Mike. We need to get you to a hospital.” Mike nodded, feeling a little woozy from blood loss and shock.
“You look like you need patching up as well my friend.”
* * * * * *
Kat walked out onto the balcony and handed Mike a large mug of coffee, leaning over to kiss him after he set it down on the table beside him.
“Hey, do I get one of those as well?” Bonner asked, seeing the kiss and the coffee.
“You go find your own woman to nurse you.”
“Hummm I think I have one somewhere around here.” Just then, a commotion sounded from within the house as a little girl, two grown wolves and four cubs came stampeding up the stairs. “Ah, here she is. My little nurse.”
“Nurse… who me?” The little girl asked, grinning from ear to ear as she climbed onto Bonner lap.
“Yes, you short legs.”
“Oh, okay. Aunty Kat says you both need someone to look after you as you keep getting into trouble.” Kat snorted a laugh.
“That’s not exactly what I said, Avon.”
“Well, it sounded like it.”
“Oh, so that’s what you think about us, is it.” Mike asked, running his hand up her back and she sat beside him.
“You two do get into a lot of trouble.” As she spoke, the four wolf cubs jumped on Bonner’s lap as well and Avon started playing with them. “And who has a pack of wolves running around the house.” Just then Max came over and put his head on Mike’s thigh, looking for a scratch. He wasn’t disappointed. Maxine on the other hand lay down beside Bonner chair and kept an eye on her pups, still a little skittish around humans.
“You worked out a way to get to the reef yet?”
“Working on it. Can’t get to it from the river side. Way too risky. I’m thinking we’ll have to drive a shaft down to it from the top.”
Kay stood, and taking Mike mug headed back to the kitchen. She stopped for a moment by the door and looked back, feeling a wave of contentment wash over her. The house was filling with friends and children, both human and animal. Hopefully soon there would be some of her own charging about the place and acting crazy, as they should. Like her favorite author, Robert Heinlein once wrote, butterflies and children need no excuse. She smiled, thinking of the upbringing they have, boy or girl, and a playground like no other and parents that would teach them all the things they needed to learn. And love, lots and lots of love.
THE END?
