There was movement outside the palace walls.
Ramirez saw it first. Jericho saw it a moment later.
A soldier had run across from the opposite side of the road and approached the general’s tank. Guerrero was still standing tall and confident through the hatch of the tank. He looked down as the soldier clearly shouted up to him. They were too far away to make out facial expressions, but the general’s overall body language changed in an instant. He spun around to address men close by. Then he reached inside the tank and retrieved a radio. He spoke into it and listened to the response.
The general looked over at the palace, staring right through the gates and into the eyes of his colonel.
Jericho and Ramirez looked at each other and smiled.
“I think he just heard the news,” said Ramirez.
Jericho rolled his eyes. “At least somebody has.”
“What do you think will happen now?”
Jericho stroked his chin thoughtfully. “He’ll either attack without warning or try talking to us… get us to back down. If the bullets start flying, I’ll follow your lead, Colonel.”
Ramirez nodded. “And if he wants to talk, I’ll watch your back. You clearly have a better head for politics than I do.”
Jericho looked at him. “If that’s the case, we’re all screwed.”
Ramirez smiled. “You ever think you would find yourself on the eve of a battle where you were the diplomatic one?”
“Not in a million years.”
The general’s megaphone whined into life. He moved it to his face, preparing to speak.
Ramirez nudged Jericho’s arm with his elbow. “Looks like you’re up.”
Jericho walked toward the gate as the general moved the megaphone to his mouth. Despite his size and confidence, he couldn’t ignore the fact he was about to stand in front of well over a hundred soldiers and a tank by himself. He took a deep breath and locked eyes with the general.
“I demand that whoever is in charge of the GlobaTech presence in my country orders them to stop attacking my troops immediately!” yelled Guerrero.
Jericho passed the final group of the colonel’s men and stopped only a few feet from the gate. He ignored the enemy soldiers staring at him and kept his eyes locked on the general’s.
The tank was parked in the middle of the dusty road, maybe fifty feet from the palace walls. Its long barrel was leveled at the gates. Jericho glanced into the muzzle as he cleared his throat, preparing to shout so that the general would hear him.
“General Guerrero, my men have orders to detain any Palugan military personnel found to be using force against the citizens of this country. Those orders come directly from the president of the United States and are supported by the United Nations. Any resistance will be met with a swift and proportional act of violence. Whatever this is, General…” He gestured to the sea of soldiers and weaponry before him. “It’s over. Tell your men to stand down. You no longer control your country. Let’s end this now, peacefully. There’s no need for any more blood to be shed.”
“The bloodshed started when your men failed to keep our president alive,” replied the general. “I’m doing what is necessary to secure my people’s safety. By attacking my soldiers, your men are committing war crimes, for which I will personally see to it that you are prosecuted. This is my country, and you have outstayed your welcome. This is your final warning. Stand down, or we will retaliate with the full might of our military.”
Jericho shook his head. “This isn’t your country, General. You serve it. You don’t rule it. Nothing you’re doing is helping anyone.”
“Do not lecture me, boy! The Constitution of Paluga clearly states that if the country is under attack and the leader is unable to fulfill his duties, executive powers fall to the commanding officer of the armed forces.”
Jericho threw his arms in the air, forgetting his situation and allowing his frustrations to show. “For the love of God, General—you’re not at war! No one’s attacking you! Your president was assassinated by a lone shooter, whom my team have already tracked down in the States. As we speak, they’re pursuing her, and I’m confident the shooter will be caught and questioned soon. But right now, seeing as your men aren’t allowing my operatives to leave your country, we’ve been asked by the United Nations to help prevent you from killing your own people for no goddamn reason! Your citizens are scared, General. We’re just trying to protect them because you’re too blinded by this imaginary war to see that you’re the ones threatening their safety.”
“They will be safe once GlobaTech are gone.”
“Fine! Let us leave! You’re the one who ordered the airport to close. Otherwise, we would have left three days ago.”
The general laughed through the megaphone, which reverberated around the entire hillside. “And let those responsible for killing our president get away? You must think I’m stupid.”
“Damn right,” muttered Jericho with a heavy sigh.
The general surveyed the groups of soldiers on either side of his tank. “Today, you fight for the freedom of your country. Today, you put an end to this… invasion. Prepare to take the palace!”
Jericho walked backward until he drew level with the nearest group of soldiers to him, which consisted of eight of the colonel’s men and three of his own. His hand moved to his weapon, secured to his thigh in its holster. He felt a modicum of comfort as his fingers wrapped around the grip, although it did little to ease the burst of adrenaline and fear coursing through his veins.
He stood in the middle of the first line of defense, waiting for the first twitch of movement from beyond the gates. He didn’t know what would happen next. He didn’t know how this would end. All he knew was that he was now standing on a battlefield, the odds stacked against him, on what could easily be the last day of his life.
In that moment of horrifying clarity, his only thought was of Julie. He never told her how he truly felt about her. And he might never have the opportunity to do so again.
He pushed the thought from his mind and looked around. Away to his left, two groups of men covered the corners of the palace courtyard. Behind him, another secured the west wall. By the entrance was the colonel and another team. Above them, lining the balconies, were the remainder of their forces. There were maybe seventy in total.
They were outnumbered and outgunned. There was nowhere to retreat except inside, which would only trap them further.
No one moved on either side of the gate. An uneasy silence fell on the restless stalemate.
“What the hell are they waiting for?” murmured Jericho. He sensed the powder keg of tension was merely a single spark away from exploding.
Just then, his comms unit crackled into life. He moved a hand to his chest.
“Go for Jericho,” he said.
A voice he didn’t recognize spoke. “Sir, we’ve encountered some heavy resistance near a small village along the east coast of the island. Our unit is pinned down. We’ve sustained some casualties but nothing fatal.”
Jericho closed his eyes for a long second. “You gotta hunker down and hold them off as long as you can, okay? There are small skirmishes across the entire country. If any of the colonel’s men are nearby, they will help you. Our teams are securing the major towns one by one. If there’s fighting, they’ll find you as soon as they can.”
There was a moment of silence.
“You got it, sir. The general’s men… they’re good, but they aren’t well trained. However, their weapons are—”
“Yeah, I know. Listen, I’m at the palace now. One way or the other, this whole shit-show is almost over. You hang in there, okay? Drinks are on me when we get home.”
“Good luck, sir.”
“And you. Jericho out.”
One of the Palugan soldiers glanced across at him. “I… I’m glad we have GlobaTech here to help us, sir.”
Jericho nodded to him. “It’ll be okay, soldier. Be smart. Be strong.”
Despite the
general’s order, not one of his men had attempted to breach the gates. Jericho looked over his shoulder, back toward the colonel, who simply shrugged in response to the unspoken question.
One of the GlobaTech operatives standing behind Jericho leaned forward.
“Mr. Stone… what do we do?” he asked. “What are they waiting for?”
Before he could answer, a distant noise rose into earshot—a deep thumping on the horizon behind the general’s men, beyond the hill on which the palace stood, out toward the city of Maville below. It grew louder and more intense, soon resonating inside the ribcages of everyone standing within the palace grounds.
Jericho ignored the glances of concern being exchanged. He focused his attention to the sky. He could guess what the noise was.
A few seconds later, his suspicions were confirmed.
Two helicopter gunships drifted into view, climbing steadily. He figured they were the same ones that had arrived an hour ago. Their outlines shimmered against the afternoon sun. Both were approaching at speed.
Jericho didn’t hesitate.
“They’re waiting for them,” he said, turning around. “Everybody, take cover!”
He sprinted toward the colonel and the entrance to the palace, gesturing with his hands for everyone who might not have heard him to seek shelter.
The first chopper approached the palace, swooping low as it unleashed fire from above. Red flashes of bullet fire traced through the air like laser beams, accompanied by a deafening shrill as they carved two parallel lines across the courtyard. Hundreds of tiny explosions of dirt and dust erupted in their wake. It moved across the palace, left to right, leaving destruction in its wake.
From inside the entrance, Jericho peered out, his weapon drawn. Across from him, the colonel did the same. They counted at least ten men dead. There were at least another ten injured but alive.
“Get your men to fall back inside the palace!” shouted Jericho. “They’ll be cut to shreds!”
Before the colonel could respond, the second helicopter approached, moving right to left over the palace grounds. More gunfire rained down, peppering the courtyard and the exterior of the building. The concrete and marble balconies splintered and chipped, quickly disintegrating beneath the relentless onslaught of overwhelming firepower. Lifeless bodies dropped to the ground below, further carpeting the courtyard in blood and death.
“Get inside!” yelled Jericho. “Defensive positions along the main corridors.”
What remained of their combined forces retreated inside as the second chopper banked away.
The colonel hurried along the main hallway. When he realized Jericho wasn’t following him, he stopped and turned.
“Mr. Stone, what are you doing?” he called out.
“Colonel, follow the plan,” replied Jericho. “We have four main hallways branching off the entrance. Defend all of them. Make sure two teams are covering the stairwells upstairs too.”
“I will, but… what are you doing? We need you back here.”
Jericho shook his head. “The general’s men will be coming through those gates any second. I’m going to slow them down and buy you some time to organize our defenses.”
“Take some men with you, then, for the love of God!”
“No, Colonel. You need everyone here.” He drew his GlobaTech-issue Negotiator and loaded a magazine of high-explosive rounds into the second breech. “I’ll be right back.”
He turned and headed outside, leaving the colonel standing, dumbstruck, in the corridor.
The air was filled with the bitter stench of gunfire and death. Dust clouds still swirled in the aftermath of the two helicopter attacks. Jericho squinted against the grit that blew into his face as he looked around the courtyard. Concrete flowerbeds, ornaments, even the footpath were all destroyed by the automatic fire from the gunship cannons minutes earlier.
He glanced over at the large gates. Soldiers were attaching cables to it that were connected to their vehicles. They were preparing to tear it off its hinges.
Jericho turned his attention to the skies, scanning for any signs of the choppers returning. He knew they wouldn’t attack once the general’s men had breached the gates, but they might still make a final pass before that.
He saw nothing.
He leaned against the wall, just inside the entrance. The brick was cool against his skin. The T-shirt stretched over his colossal frame was soaked dark with sweat. He looked down, contemplating for a moment whether or not he should call Julie, but he quickly decided against it. He needed his head in the game. He needed to focus completely on what was about to happen.
He chambered a high-explosive round.
There was never much need to use the weapon at all, let alone any of its more advanced features—a fact he was grateful for. But he remembered the damage one of these rounds had caused when Collins had fired it back in Prague three years ago. It took out almost an entire wall of a hotel.
He gripped his gun with both hands, holding it low and ready, his finger resting outside the trigger guard.
Imagine what it would do if he fired it into a group of enemies?
His comms crackled into life. “Sir, this is Mike Jefferies. Do you copy?”
He pressed to activate them. “Jefferies, this is Jericho. What’s your position?”
“We’re pinned down just outside the center of Maville. We’re in a plaza close to where the president was killed. There are eight of us here. We’ve got Palugan forces coming at us from three sides. There’s also a group of civilians in a nearby building getting caught in the crossfire. Are there any of our guys who can come help us out, sir?”
Jericho closed his eyes momentarily as he cursed underneath his breath. This nightmare was only getting worse.
He took a deep breath. “Jefferies, I… I don’t know. I’m in the palace with Colonel Ramirez. We have maybe forty guys left. Do whatever you can to stay alive and get those people to safety. Our operatives are northbound, securing the major towns along the way. Honestly, I don’t know how quickly you’ll get any support, if at all.”
There was a long silence.
“Copy that, sir,” said Jefferies finally.
Jericho moved his hand away from his chest, massaging his forehead and the bridge of his nose.
“Come on…” he whispered to himself. “Focus.”
The sound of metal straining and twisting filled the air, followed a moment later by two thunderous bangs. The gates were torn from their giant hinges, opening up the courtyard to the men outside it.
A squad of the general’s men rushed forward. They fanned out across the courtyard as they entered, taking up positions behind what was left to provide cover. Jericho watched the first squad move in, waiting for the next wave to appear.
Moments later, another group stormed into view. Maybe fifteen men grouped together past the threshold where the palace gates once stood. Without hesitation, Jericho dropped to a knee and took aim. He fired twice in quick succession. A heartbeat later, the entire group of men disappeared in a large cloud of crimson dust, accompanied by two muted explosions.
The men already inside the palace grounds dove away, yelling with surprise amidst the chaos.
Jericho didn’t give them a second’s reprieve. He fired another explosive round at the biggest group of them. Five more men were taken out instantly.
He switched to normal rounds and opened fire, sending the remaining forces scattering for cover. He clipped a couple of them but couldn’t tell if they were fatal shots.
Jericho ducked back inside as more of the general’s men began filing into the courtyard, followed by the unmistakable rumble and roar of the general’s tank. He watched as the barrel and tracks rolled into view, barely squeezing between the cracked stone pillars of the gateway.
“Shit,” he muttered. His special rounds wouldn’t make a dent.
The tank flattened and shattered what remained of the courtyard’s decorations as it positioned itself in front of the
steps leading up to the entrance of the palace. Jericho retreated further inside, heading along the corridor that led toward the president’s office. Ramirez met him halfway.
“Have they breached the gates?” he asked.
Jericho nodded. “They have. The good news is there are now around twenty less soldiers than before. The bad news is the general’s tank is parked out front and aimed at the door.”
The colonel sighed. His grave expression portrayed his obvious concern.
“Everyone’s in position inside the palace,” he said. “We’ll let them come to us and pick them off in the corridors.”
“I’ll head upstairs and see if I can—”
He was cut off by the sound of a helicopter. It was loud, which meant it was close.
Jericho and the colonel exchanged a worried look. They realized in the same moment what was happening.
“They’re landing on the roof!” said the colonel.
They sprinted for the nearest staircase. Jericho looked at the first GlobaTech operative they passed on the way. “Tell everyone down here to hold their positions. Pick your shots. Don’t let them get through the doorways.”
Both men took the stairs two at a time and continued sprinting when they reached the upper level. Men lined the hallway at intervals, taking cover behind statues and seating where they could, all facing the large glass doors at the far end that opened out onto the balcony.
They were halfway along when they were forced to skid to a halt on the marbled floor. Up ahead, the glass shattered as armed soldiers descended from above on fast-ropes and burst through them. Six men landed awkwardly, their weapons already raised to fire.
The scene froze. A heartbeat felt like an hour as the two lines of staggered allies stared at the cluster of enemies, locked in a deadly stand-off.
Jericho and Ramirez reacted differently.
The colonel backpaddled, almost stumbling as he scrambled for the nearest source of cover while trying to draw his own sidearm. His instinct was logical—improve his position and get ready to defend himself.
Danger Close Page 20
