“What the fuck?” Snyder muttered.
Gunfire rang out from somewhere inside of the building.
“Shit!” Jeffries hissed, not wanting to alert anyone to their presence. Yelling followed the initial sound of gunfire and was met by more shooting.
We need to get out of here.
Looking around the rooftop, he saw nowhere to hide. “Come on!” he whispered, rushing back to the door that led to the stairwell.
“Fuck! Damn flip flops!” Snyder muttered behind him, before kicking them off.
Throwing open the door, Jeffries took a step onto the landing, then froze. The sound of footsteps were pounding on the stairs below as men worked their way up to the higher floors. He heard a loud, commanding voice from somewhere below them.
“You four, check the second floor. You guys check the third. The rest of you come with, we’ll take the fourth.”
Dammit.
Stepping back, he quietly closed the door and turned to Snyder. “We need to find a way off this roof.”
The two men looked around. The space was large and open with the exception of a few large air conditioning units and their associated ducting. Large enough to hide behind, but only if the person looking didn’t bother to work their way around them. That scenario seemed unlikely, given the number of men that had been sent to kill Jeffries’s team. Nevertheless, there was nothing better at the moment.
“Come on,” Jeffries said, rushing forward. He saw Snyder’s discarded flip flops on the roof. “Grab those,” he ordered.
Snyder bent down and grabbed them before following Jeffries over to the space between the two air conditioning units.
Jeffries examined the space. There was a small gap under each section of ducting, far too small for a human to fit under, especially one the size of Snyder. “Shit.” he mumbled. One of the panels of the A/C units was loose, so he pulled it off. Little space inside, way too small. No good. “Come on, Anfernie.” Shaking his head, he looked down and to the right.
Maybe?
Rushing to the edge of the building, he looked over. They were on the backside of the building, near the middle, directly above each floor’s lounge areas. On each level, a pair of large windows provided a view of the river on the other side of the street, but between the two was a five-foot section of wall. Just over forty feet below was an asphalt-paved parking lot. A pair of large metal trash receptacles were pressed up against the building’s exterior wall, close to where a door on the first floor landing of the stairwell opened onto the street. The face of the structure was brick, but aside from the shallow grooves between the bricks, there was nothing to use and hand- or footholds.
‘But there might be another option,’ Jeffries thought. Turning back to Snyder, he asked, “Are you good with knots?”
Snyder recoiled in surprise. “Actually, yeah.”
“Good. I suck at them.” Looking at the base of the air conditioning unit, he studied the unit’s support. Each unit was on a thick condenser pad made of what looked like a composite material, which offered to help, but at the base of the air conditioning unit itself a large circle had been cut into the metal to allow a grounding strap to be attached.
It could work.
Reaching underneath the ducting of the unit behind them, he grabbed the giant spool of coaxial cable that had been left there. While far from ideal, it looked to be at least fifty feet in length, long enough for their needs.
Unrolling several feet of it, he passed it to Snyder. “Hold this,” he ordered, before winding the rest between the support braces for the ducting. Leaning over the edge of the building, he slowly let down the length of the cable, taking care to ensure it didn’t smack against the building or swing in front of one of the windows. When he’d let all that he had in his hands out, he realized it still hung a good ten feet from the ground. Looking back at what Snyder held in his hands, he knew the man would need at least that amount to secure this end.
Gonna be a little drop.
Looking up at Snyder’s face, he saw the man staring back at him with his mouth hanging open. “You’re not serious,” Snyder said.
Gunfire sounded from somewhere inside the building, drawing their attention towards the door. It was still closed.
Turning back to Snyder, Jeffries asked, “You got a better idea?”
The thickly muscled man shook his head. “Clove hitch it is…”
“Alright, well hurry it up.”
“Hey, if I mess this up, your ass is gonna splat all over the fuckin’ pavement,” Snyder growled, before adding, “with all due respect, Gunnery Sergeant.”
“Okay, okay,” Jeffries conceded. “But, seriously, you have to hurry,” he added, watching the door. If it opened, they were done. There was zero chance that they’d be able to hide where they sat, and if the men happened to see the cable moving as the two of them scaled the side of the building, they’d be sitting ducks.
“Alright, done,” Snyder announced.
Jeffries nodded. “Good job. Go ahead.”
Snyder protested. “Negative, Gunny. I’ll stay here, watch this knot. I tied it right, but being that it’s fuckin’ cable, it doesn’t bind. If I need to, I can hold it ‘til you get down.”
“Yeah? Then what?”
“The fuck if I know, but at least you’ll make it.”
“Dammit,” Jeffries said, shaking his head. There wasn’t time to argue, though. Moving to the edge of the building, he grabbed the cable in his hands. Knowing better than to look down, he simply sat down on the wall, swung his legs over, moved to his elbows and let his feet dangle until they found the cable. Looping the cable over his left foot and under his right, he clamped down on it and slid off the building’s edge. Moving as quickly as he could while maintaining a grip, he lowered himself down foot by foot, keeping his eyes either looking up or facing the wall.
He passed the windows on the fourth floor.
Halfway down the third floor, he heard the sound of a woman screaming.
Healey.
Gunfire rang out.
The window to his left exploded outwards, sending glass flying a split second before Corporal Healey’s body flew backwards out into the air not three feet from where he was suspended.
In that split second, he was able to clearly see the look of pain and fear on the young woman’s face as her mind registered the damage down by the bullets that had torn through her torso and the fact that she was about to experience an uncontrolled thirty foot descent that would end with her hitting the pavement below.
Though later he’d wonder if it had really happened, her eyes met his. They widened for the briefest of seconds before gravity pulled her away, taking her from his view.
Turning away, he closed his eyes as he waited for the sound of the impact.
When it came, he felt a sudden urge to evacuate everything in his stomach.
His heart pounded in his chest, thundering as he felt fury rise up within him.
Someone would pay.
“Hurry up, Gunny!” Snyder hissed from above.
Nodding, Jeffries resumed his descent.
You can’t do anything right now. Survive first, then find the bastards that did this.
He moved faster, lowering himself as quickly as he could, moving hand over hand, loosening the grip his feet held, then re-tightening them before repeating the process as he descended.
Shortly after passing the second floor, he had a sudden moment of panic as the cable slipped from his feet. Remembering that the cable didn’t reach the ground, he took a breath, then used his hands and arms to lower himself to the end of the cable. From there he let go, dropping the remaining distance between his body’s full, arms extended length, and the ground with ease. Grabbing the cable, he whipped it once, then looked up.
Snyder looked to the sky and shook his head, then swung his legs over the side and dropped down onto the cable. He started lowering himself using only his arms while his feet tried to grab the cable.
Ev
ery second mattered.
The sound of the door to the roof slamming open rang out in the night air, followed by loud voices on the roof.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Moving behind the dumpster, Jeffries melted into the shadow and looked up at Snyder. He was moving quickly down the side of the building, but still about twenty-five feet from the ground. The men would surely look between the two A/C units at any second. Fortunately, the way he’d wound the cable between the supports of the ducting would hide it from view, but if or when they looked over the side of the building…
The broken window.
Waving his arm wildly, he motioned towards the window. At first Snyder didn’t see his flailing arm, but after a second he saw it and acknowledged. Pushing off the building, he swung over and in through the window.
From the angle he was looking, Jeffries could see the big man just inside the building, standing on the windowsill and holding the cable tightly against the building.
Good move.
Motion at the top of the building caught his eye. The shadowy form of a man came into view. He looked down from above, briefly pausing to focus on the battered form of Corporal Healey on the road, then moved away. Jeffries waited a few seconds, then grabbed the cable and whipped it again. Snyder emerged from the window holding a piece of cloth in his hands. Loosening his grip on the bottom of the cable, he let himself slide downward at a near freefall, the cable burning against the fabric that protected his hands, then grabbed hard at the last second, stopping his descent. Looking to make sure he had a clear spot to land, he let go and dropped to the surface of the parking lot.
Taking a deep breath, Snyder looked at Jeffries and nodded.
There hadn’t been any additional gunfire in the building since the shots that had sent Healey to her death. That told Jeffries the men would be doing a final check of the building and the perimeter.
“Let’s go,” Jeffries said. He raced across the street and jumped into the small bushes at the edge of the river. Snyder followed closely behind muttering to himself as rocks, pieces of glass, and other debris dug into his bare feet.
No sooner had Snyder joined him in the bush than they heard the rear door to the building slam open. Footsteps on the surface of the pavement sounded as a pair of men stepped out of the building.
“Anything?” Someone still inside asked.
“Nah. Just that dead chick.”
“Shame. She was a looker.”
“I know. Oh well, with Walters in charge, we’ll have our pick of the women soon.”
The other voice laughed. “Sounds awesome.”
Sons of bitches.
And wait, Walters? The Base C.O.?
Jesus Christ, we delivered the doctors to him…
The voice from inside the building drew closer. Looking through the thick, leaf- and purple flower-covered branches of the Bush Clover, Jeffries watched as a man stepped out into the rear parking lot of the building. “Good job, men,” he proclaimed, nodding. As he stepped out of the shadows, into the light of one of the nearby streetlights, Jeffries struggled to stifle a gasp.
He’d seen the man at the base Enlisted Club not four hours prior, where he’d been celebrating with Jeffries’ team, providing pitchers of beer and rounds of shots at a near-constant rate, getting the team sufficiently drunk enough to ensure they’d fall into a deep slumber once they returned to their quarters. Thinking back, Jeffries couldn’t remember the man having anything other than the three-quarters full mug of beer in his hand the entire time...
Pulling out a radio, the man brought it to his mouth and spoke into it. “HQ, this is Cotton, over.”
A voice that was clearly Colonel Walters responded immediately. “Cotton, this is HQ. Go secure.”
The man brought his hand up and changed a setting on his radio, then spoke into it again. “This is Cotton, over.”
“This is HQ, go.”
“Mission accomplished, over.”
“Confirm all killed, over.”
“Yes sir, all occupants neutralized.”
“Copy.”
“Sir, what should we do with the bodies, over?”
There was a long pause, then Walters’ voice returned. “Ensure they’re all inside, then burn the building. We’ll blame it on the terrorists, over.”
“Copy, sir.”
“And Cotton?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Bravo Zulu.”
“Thank you, Sir. I’ll pass that on to the team. Any further instructions, Sir?”
“Negative. Just make sure it burns to the ground. No evidence.”
“Yes, Sir. Cotton out.”
The man switched off the radio. Looking towards Healey’s dead form on the street, he pointed. “Get her inside,” he ordered.
“Yes, Sir,” the other men replied, nodding. They moved to where she lay, each grabbed one of her arms and legs, and lifted her. As they began to carry her body towards the door, one of the men asked, “Sir, what about the blood?”
Cotton nodded. “Good point,” he replied. “Go ahead, I’ll think of something,” he added, moving aside to let them pass. He stood there for a minute, looking at the pool of red on the street. Eventually he nodded slowly, then turned and headed into the building. He returned a few minutes later with a few pieces of wood and a gas can. He laid the pieces of wood on top of the spot where Healey had landed, then poured gasoline all over it. When he was done, he poured a wide trail of gas back towards the building, then into it as he backed inside, disappearing from view.
There was the sound of yelling as orders were barked out, then the building went quiet. Shortly after, the first flames appeared inside the windows. Within minutes, the entire building was burning. As they watched, a flame raced from the building towards the small pile of wood. Upon contact, it burst into flames.
Watching the structure grow from a few batches of flames here and there into an all-consuming raging inferno, Jeffries felt an incredible, overwhelming sense of loss come over him.
Healey…
Khan…
Milligan…
White…
Sanchez…
Tomlinson…
All of them were gone, their lives extinguished in the middle of the night by cowardly men in an unexpected ambush.
“I’ll kill those fuckers,” Snyder growled.
“I hear you, Devil Dog,” Jeffries replied.
“What are we gonna do?”
Looking over at the man, Jeffries said, “We’re gonna find a way to make them pay.” Looking down at Snyder’s feet, he added, “But first, we’re gonna find you some shoes.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Oklahoma City Protective Zone, Oklahoma
Day 5
Sliding through the shadows, the man worked his way through the greenery that surrounded the large building. His footsteps made little to no sound as he moved, mostly due to the fact that he was skilled at moving in silence, but also aided by the fact that the lush green grass that, while not expertly trimmed as it had been as recently as a month ago, was still well watered, leaving the blades and the ground beneath them soft and yielding under his boots. In fact, aside from specifically designated fields and parks deemed as important for community well-being, the grass around the Governor’s Mansion was some of the only green grass inside the Protective Zone.
Which made the man’s job a bit easier.
As he reached the side of the building, he moved to a shadowed area in one of the exterior corners of the brick covered structure and waited, listening for sounds of movement inside or any indication that he’d been spotted or, more unlikely, heard. After checking the time on his watch, he waited a full three minutes in the shadowed area before moving once more. Feeling confident, he stepped to the window and stared inside, allowing his eyes, which had fully adjusted to the darkness, to take in the empty interior of the room. He pressed his hand against the window to block out any reflections that would interfere with his view and verified th
at the door to the room was closed. Withdrawing a small penlight, he shined it through the glass at the locking mechanism so that he could see what he was up against. When he did, he smiled.
Simple.
He reached into the inside of his coat and withdrew his set of tools. Smiling to himself, he selected the ones he needed, then got to work on disengaging the lock. Forty seconds later, he smiled again as he felt the soft click of the locking mechanism sliding open. Extracting the toolset again, he placed the ones he’d used back into the small case, ensuring they slid into their designated spots. He’d need them again when he was done with his assignment.
Reaching out, he slid the window open, then retreated and waited once more, this time only for a minute, before grabbing the windowsill and hoisting himself up onto it. Pausing there, he rotated his body so that he was sitting on the windowsill with his legs dangling, then brought each of his boots up and used his gloved hand to wipe them off, removing any mud or grass before swinging them into the room. He dropped down onto the hardwood floor silently, then got to work, moving throughout the room and placing a series of items in various locations. One particular item he put in a specific spot as instructed, then moved into the desired position and verified it was just visible from there and only there.
Satisfied, he finished placing the remaining items in what were good, but not great, hiding spots, hidden from view, but not hard to find. Done with his task, he moved through the room, retracing his steps and checking to ensure that he hadn’t left signs of disturbance. Finally, he crouched on the floor and placed the penlight on its surface before turning it on. Reaching into his thin backpack, he withdrew a soft cloth and used it to wipe away any complete or partial bootprints he found as he moved back to the window.
When he was done, he sat back on the windowsill and looked around the room once more, making a final check of the space. After thirty or so seconds, he was satisfied that he’d covered his tracks, and he quietly jumped back down onto the grass. Sliding the window closed, he took out his special tools and used them to re-engage the lock.
Surviving Rage | Book 5 Page 29
