Rise of the Pheonix: Act 2

by Gibbs, Dameon

  With the walls squeezing against them, Tucker found it eerie and cold. Their lights flickered in the dark. He felt that any moment a creature would grab him and pull him to some dark location.

  Tucker watched ahead as Edge maneuvered himself onto his back to climb the vent; seconds later his feet disappeared up into the shaft as he ascended. At the ledge, Tucker’s stomach lurched into a knot when he peered up into the dark tunnel below. Santa Claus enjoys this?

  With his back against the vent as Edge had done, Tucker pulled himself up hesitantly, using the grippers to systematically pull himself further up until nothing but air loomed beneath him. Doing as instructed, he rolled his wrist then allowed the gripper to latch onto the surface, pulling himself higher and higher. Hand… leg… hand… leg.

  With a steady pace and some uncomfortable turns, Tucker reached the duct connecting to the sixteenth-floor library. A few times his hand wouldn’t release until he got the rolling motion exactly right. Well, better that than the opposite.

  Eventually, he caught up with Edge, who was patiently sitting near the vent exit looking down into the room through the grillwork.

  “What do you see?” Tucker whispered, taking a seat beside him.

  Edge put his finger up in a “one moment” gesture and continued to stare through the vent.

  When the entire team had arrived, Edge addressed them quietly. “Okay, our plan is working. I’m going in first and taking out the camera in this room. You guys will then have to double time. Once that camera goes out, they’ll know we’re here.”

  The team had taken off their gloves and prepped their weapons. Edge slowly and quietly removed the vent. At one point Tucker had stopped breathing in anticipation of the loud noise that would result if Edge dropped it. As soon as Edge placed the cover on the floor of the vent, he was through the opening and disposing of the camera. The motion was fluid, as though he had rehearsed it a hundred times.

  Tucker and the team followed suit and exited the vent into the Lawyer’s Library near its far western windows. The rectangular room sat on the western end of the sixteen floor, constructed with the sole purpose to allow the bank’s lawyers and interns to obtain material for immediate use. The library covered a third of the floor and was considered the bank’s crown jewel. Row after row of bookshelves encircled the massive tables that sat at the room’s center. Many of the tables were missing because they were being used by the Order to fortify the hallway.

  The library’s main attraction was referred to as the Wall of Tablets. To accompany its traditional bound books, the bank had all its information and data electronically converted, stored on tablets arranged against a full wall located by the checkout counter.

  Although it shared the basic structure of a library, with its vast number of books, computers, and long wooden tables, that was where the comparison ended. Not only was it the most expensively produced and highest elevated library, but it made the library at an Ivy League school look the second rate with its selection of material.

  The library was open to college students twenty-four hours a day, whether they worked at the firm or not, a subtle recruiting technique used to make up for their high turnover rate of entry level positions.

  Except for their breathing, the library was void of any sound or light, and with the power down in the district, the room remained cloaked in darkness.

  ۞۞۞۞

  “Any idea where they are?” Lox radioed, sensing that too much time had elapsed since he received the warning of intruders without any visible activity in the hallway.

  Hitoshi rolled his eyes with irritation as he tapped some buttons on one of his laptops to cycle through the cameras. “All stairwell cameras are down; tangos not in sight.”

  “Why the hell would they be hanging out in the stairwell?” Bricks asked.

  Hitoshi changed his camera screen to show all the cameras around Lox and Bricks. Bastards have no concept of patience, he thought. Then something caught his eye; another camera went offline, but this one was not in the stairwell. Lox and Brinks are being flanked; Hitoshi took the realization as another inconvenience, the way someone reacts to their shoe being untied. “Lox, the tangos somehow got into the library. Probably through the A/C ducts.”

  “Library, check. En route,” Lox responded.

  “Finally,” Bricks mumbled, eager for action.

  The two men moved along the floor in a low, crouched position. They were not more than a few feet from the main library entrance. Lox and Bricks crept into the library, using the checkout counters as cover.

  Bricks was able to see the group slowly moving across the floor by the tables. “They’re all here,” he whispered, counting five targets.

  “I’ll drop the left, you take the right,” Lox suggested. “On my mark.”

  Just before he could give the signal to shoot, a helicopter flew past the window, its bright searchlight momentarily bringing the illusion of daylight to the room.

  In the passing light, Edge noticed the two shadows in the corner, near the Wall of Tablets. The brief flash gave him enough time to recognize the shape of a weapon. “Everyone down... NOW!” he yelled, diving to the floor.

  Knowing that the element of surprise was lost, Bricks and Lox stood and began spraying the area with full auto fire. Rounds sailed over the heads of Edge’s team, blasting the windows from their frames. Wind poured into the library, sending any loose papers sailing chaotically through the air.

  “Flip the tables!” Edge yelled as bullets ricocheted around them. Eager to return the volley, Webster flipped a table for cover and fired. Her silenced MP7 chewed into the checkout counter.

  Crawford, Tucker, Reid, and Edge followed suit, forcing the two soldiers to cover. Seizing the opportunity, Edge pushed the offensive. “Tucker, Reid, flank right. Crawford, Webster, fan left.”

  The group fanned out from their positions, weaving through the library, flipping tables and moving between book stacks as they went.

  Seeing the targets spread out like wolves on the hunt, Lox took aim at the tallest member of the group, but his shots lagged behind the target. Tucker dove to the floor because it seemed like a good idea at the time.

  Peeking over the table, Edge located Lox as the flashes from his rifle illuminated his black armor. That’s enough from you. Edge thought, following it with a controlled burst of fire that sailed right towards Lox’s head. But the man dropped at the last moment to avoid the hit; so close was his timing that Lox could feel the bullets graze his helmet. Reid and Tucker immediately returned fire, shooting high above the counter, knocking the tablets off their hangers and causing them to crash down on Lox.

  The engagement became a deadly seesaw with both parties peeking out to trade fire. Paper and books exploded off their shelves under the hail of gunfire, only to be caught by the wind and strewed about the room like flakes of snow.

  Webster was prepared on an intellectual level that a day like this would eventually come, but she had no idea what a full-out firefight was actually like. Slamming another magazine into her weapon, she tried to keep her concentration on her aim, not on her heart beating into overdrive.

  Crawford, on the other hand, was enjoying the fight. He saw the Order as nothing more than simple thugs who needed to be dealt with. When he saw the tablets fall onto one of the soldiers, he saw an opportunity. He switched to his shotgun and ran up next to the counters. He popped up over the counter; gun aimed right where the man’s head should be, but he was unprepared for the recoil of the shotgun.

  “SHIT!” Crawford cursed as the shot went above his target’s head. Crawford pulled the trigger again and again in an attempt to hit his target. In seconds, the gun clicked empty, and as the dust quickly blew away, Crawford realized he had missed his mark. He dropped to his knees as bullets flew over his head. He quickly reloaded his weapon and with each shell he loaded, he swore he was not going to miss again.

  Edge saw Crawford’s run. “Pete hold!” he yelled after him.

 
The man either ignored him or was too caught up in the moment to acknowledge him. Edge had to give the man credit because his ambush worked… up until he missed with every shot. He’s letting adrenaline take over, Edge diagnosed.

  “Reid! Tucker! Go full auto on them now!” Edge ordered.

  At the command, the two switched their weapons and latched onto their triggers; rounds promptly tore into the counter. After the dust, wood and glass settled, the two enemy soldiers were retreating from the library, blindly firing as they went.

  As if he had smelled the wound of his prey, Crawford stood up and saw the men slipping out the door and gave chase after them.

  Ah, fuck, Edge thought as he hurdled over his cover and sprinted after them.

  Crawford cursed as the soldiers disappeared beyond the door’s threshold. He ran full speed, his weapon tight to his shoulder, ready to release hell. Approaching the door, he could see across the hallway and into the lawyers’ offices.

  He could make out two large cubicles five feet in and there was more beyond them. Something caught his eye; something that did not match the sharp angles of the walls. Before he could make another move he felt someone pick him off the ground and pull him back like he was a sack of potatoes. “What the fuck?” he started to yell when a stream of bullets tore into the place where he had just been standing. He felt a vice-like grip on his chin as his head was turned to make eye contact with one very pissed-off Edge.

  “I said no hero bullshit! You don’t move unless I say! You got it!?” Edge repeated with enough force that Crawford felt it in his soul.

  “Gotcha,” Crawford responded, simultaneously nodding vigorously.

  “You want to follow them, use this to clear the way,” Edge said as he pulled Crawford’s flash bang off his vest. Crawford looked at it and then back at Edge as if not sure that taking it was what he was supposed to do. He grabbed it after Edge shook it in his face.

  After allowing his composure to return to normal, Edge said, “Reid, Tucker, stack up across from us. Webster, over here with me.”

  While they moved into position, he poked his head into the doorway to look into the law offices. I got you now.

  “Reid roll your flash bang across the hall. Then, a second later Crawford, you toss yours into the air. Try to get it above the cubicles,” Edge instructed in a low voice.

  Doing as told, Reid rolled the small tube like grenade across the hallway and into the law offices where it detonated with a blinding flash and at one hundred seventy decibels, enough to discombobulate anyone without having the proper gear equipped.

  Crawford’s grenade flew into the air passing way beyond Reid’s and exploded in midair. Edge ran to the door checking for movement; seeing nothing, he gave the signal for the team to advance. They’re hiding, he knew.

  “Eyes up: they’re waiting for us,” he warned.

  As his team carefully made their way into the lawyers’ offices, Edge kept scanning for movement. Crawford and Webster took the left again while Reid and Tucker moved right.

  The office was bigger than expected, wide enough for two sets of large two by two cubicles and offices with glass windows on the perimeter. The walkways between the cubicles allowed two people to move through side by side but did not provide many options regarding how to move.

  There aren’t many places for them to hide. So where are they? Edge wondered.

  He had expected that the flash bangs would provide the time for his team to get in; it was a strategy he’d used before in a situation like this. Toss one in, get who you can, then toss another one to get the ones crafty – or lucky - enough to dodge the first.

  The plan had worked, just not as perfectly as it has in the past. Lox and Bricks hid from the first one and started to pop up when the second one was tossed. The average person would have been blinded, but one did not make it onto Keeast’s team by being the average guy. Bricks and Lox dropped behind cover and avoided the blast.

  Despite their efforts, the flash had blinded them enough that they had to abandon their night vision. Now they sat in the dark office waiting for the enemy they could barely see. However, sight was not the only sense available to them. As quiet as Edge’s team were, they still bumped into walls and office supplies which gave away their progress. The duo estimated their distance by the level of the noise and after hearing a solid thud, Bricks knew where he wanted to send his next shots.

  ۞۞۞۞

  As the battle raged on below, Keeast watched Hitoshi hack into the bank’s systems. Keeast had found himself the most comfortable chair around, one of the new ergonomically designed desk chairs, upwards of seven hundred dollars. Not bad, he thought as he settled down on the fabric, propping one foot across his knee.

  In the darkened room he calmly watched the light from the monitors created a dim silhouette around Hitoshi. “How much longer till the transfer is complete?”

  With three twelve-inch LCD screens in front of him, Hitoshi paid little attention to what was happening below, or so it appeared. He was reaching the end of his assignment and timing was the key. Earlier, his programs had been able to do most of the work; now it rested on his shoulders.

  Hitoshi’s fingers moved like lighting across the portable keyboard. A single beep indicated that he had completed another step. The tapping of the keyboard paused. “Ten minutes until completion,” Hitoshi responded confidently.

  Keeast radioed his men to see how they were handling the intruders. “Lox, Bricks? What’s the situation? Over.”

  Three static blips came over the radio, the signal his team used when answering would give away their position.

  “Draggo, be ready,” Keeast warned. “Lox and Bricks have them in the library right now, but trouble might be coming your way soon.”

  A thick Russian accent came back through the radio. “Can you see them?” Draggo asked, asking after Lox and Bricks.

  “That’s a negative; the intruders shot out the cameras. They’re alive, just not able to communicate.”

  “How much time until we’re done?”

  “Approximately eight minutes.”

  “Roger. I’m calling Lox and Bricks up; we’ll make the stand here,” Draggo reported.

  ۞۞۞۞

  Webster peered out of the cubicle down the office aisle for any sign of movement. She signaled for Crawford to move up to the next cubicle. Edge had instructed them to move up at their desired pace, leapfrogging each other and keeping their heads below the cubicle tops. In pairs, one provided cover while the other moved. Reid and Tucker were progressing similarly on the right. Edge stayed in the middle a few feet behind and kept an eye over the cubicle tops as backup cover, keeping the enemy’s head down.

  The team tried to move silently, but the desks were littered with small objects that rattled like a baby’s toy with the slightest tap. Crawford signaled that it was Webster’s turn to move.

  Why haven’t they attacked yet? Are they even here? She wondered as she reached her next position. She noticed some movement ahead. She raised a clenched fist, signaling Crawford to hold but Crawford, in his eagerness, saw the sign as “go” and took off for his next spot. Webster saw him begin to move and shook her fist again, but he was already moving and by the time her signal registered, all he could do was divert into the nearest cubicle.

  Crawford’s momentum and the change in direction caused him to hit the file cabinets hanging from the desk. The impact shook the desk, knocking a stationary baseball sitting on the shelf bouncing down onto the floor.

  Everyone froze. Crawford just stared at Webster, his eyes wide open as the object rolled and bounced. Though night vision goggles covered his eyes, Webster knew what he was thinking: Son a bitch!

  After a few seconds of silence, they allowed themselves to breathe. No one was moving; the room was still as night.

  Out of nowhere, the cubicle’s fabric wall exploded inward as bullets zipped by Crawford. He dropped as flat as he could to the floor. Webster saw the muzzle flash inside a set of cub
icles not too far from her position. She returned fire but, instead of stopping the assault, she became the target as return fire was directed at her position. Office supplies from the cubicle wall rained down on her.

  They could hear fire from Edge, Tucker, and Reid, but none seemed to be hitting their target.

  Rolling over, Crawford saw a fairly sizable hole in the wall. With the enemy’s focus momentarily on Webster, Crawford blindly fired his barrage of bullets through the hole. He was unsure if he hit anyone, but at least, the shooting for the enemy had stopped.

  “You alright?” Crawford whispered into his radio.

  “Never better,” she replied sarcastically. “Edge, what do you see?”

  “I see two. About thirty feet from your positions. Reid and Crawford give cover fire while Webster and Tucker advance from either side. Then switch. I’ll keep them below the walls. On my Mark: GO!”

  Crawford and Reid fired on the enemy’s location. Edge watched, looking for any sign of the enemy. To his right, he saw the barrel of a gun come over the wall. He fired three quick shots, and the gun dropped out of sight. Edge pressed forward with the team.

  Come on, show yourself, Edge mentally coaxed them. And part of one did; a right arm came out with a handgun and emptied the clip down the center isle. Edge dove into one of the cubicles as the bullets flew by. He whipped his head out into the aisle and back for a quick view and saw one of the soldiers running down the center isle with the other laying down cover fire why he retreated.

  “Motherfucker!” Edge exclaimed as he rolled back. “They’re retreating down the middle. They’ve got me suppressed.”

  “Tucker, keep an eye on the aisle,” Reid instructed as he stood up to fire on the retreating soldiers. “Edge, you’re clear.”

  “Reid! Down, now!” Tucker yelled as one of the soldier’s guns shot over the wall. Reid dropped like a rock. “You alive?” Tucker asked.

  “That was too fucking close!” Reid gasped. “Thanks.”

  The battle quickly changed. Each side took turns popping up and down like a whack-a-mole game. Edge realized from the exchange that these men were well-trained; their coverage of corners and quick cycling of their weapons enabled them to hold off his five-man team. Still, they were retreating.