Jimmy broke off as Atlas straightened the truck, adjusting the side view mirror as Dawson and Niner jumped into the back of the vehicle. It began to reverse as gunfire erupted from the front, Jimmy’s AK-47 responding. They began to pick up speed as Atlas expertly guided them toward the smaller enemy, all Delta Operators trained in high speed driving in both directions.
Dawson braced himself, sprawled on the floor of the transport, his AK-47 at the ready.
I wish I had my MP5!
But he’d have to make do. The AK-47 was a fine, reliable weapon, and it killed quite effectively if well-aimed.
“Control, Bravo Zero-One. ETA on those Marines?”
“Six mikes.”
“Direction of arrival?”
“From the south.”
“Good, we’re heading toward them. Hopefully that’ll shave a few seconds off.”
At the speeds the helicopters would be travelling, their barely ten-mile-per-hour retreat would literally result in mere seconds of savings, but in a gun battle that could mean the difference between life and death.
“New arrivals from the south are around the next bend, over.”
“Did you hear that?” shouted Dawson.
“Affirmative!” replied Atlas as the bend in question appeared.
“Control, type of vehicles?”
“Two troop transports, just like you’re in, over.”
“I’ll hit the passenger side of the windshield, that should cause the driver to swerve left, exposing the rear of the transport. I’ll take out the driver and any front seat passengers, you empty your mag into the back.”
“Got you.”
The lead vehicle suddenly appeared from behind a stand of trees.
“Engaging,” said Dawson into his comm as he placed two shots into the passenger side windshield, conveniently eliminating one of the enemy. The truck jerked to the left, as predicted, giving him a clear shot of the driver through the passenger side window. He let out a short burst, the AK-47 not known for its sharp-shooting abilities.
But his aim was true.
Beside him Niner’s AK pumped death at the rear of the rapidly nearing vehicle as Atlas continued to reverse. Jimmy’s gunfire had ceased, enough distance having been placed between them and the stalled column. He could hear the shouts and cries of panic as those in the back of the lead vehicle were torn apart by Niner’s well-placed shots.
Dawson took a bead on the driver of the second vehicle as the man brought his vehicle to a stop, the soldiers in the rear pouring out. A short burst shattered the windshield, leaving a bloody mess behind it as Dawson turned his attention to the scrambling soldiers, Niner reloading and quickly joining in.
Dawson felt the vehicle slow as they approached the lead vehicle now blocking the road, gunfire being returned by the survivors.
“Control, status on northern column, over!”
“Just underway now, over.”
“Atlas, move forward, take us back around the bend then we’ll use that stand of trees as cover!”
“Roger that!”
The truck jerked forward, the engine roaring in the low gears as they surged away from one enemy and toward a greater. The bend in the road quickly took the southern force out of sight and Dawson slapped his hand on the metal floor, signaling Atlas to stop. He swung out onto the road as Niner handed him the weapons then jumped down himself. Dawson looked around the driver side of the vehicle at Atlas.
“Put it in the ditch, we’ll use it as cover.”
Atlas gave a two fingered salute with his left hand and cranked the wheel as Jimmy joined them in the shallow ditch in front of the small stand of trees. Dawson pointed to the southern side as the truck’s bumper crunched against the embankment. “Jimmy, Niner, you two cover the rear, Atlas and I will cover north. Control, ETA on the Marines?”
“Three mikes, over.”
“Okay, we just need to hang in for three minutes. No heroes today, we’re just delaying. Keep them pinned down, and keep your own heads down. One-hundred-eighty seconds, that’s all.”
He dropped to the ground, taking up a position behind the wheel of their truck, a clear view of the road ahead. Atlas lay on the road, the rear wheels providing valuable protection as he took aim under the truck.
Gunfire erupted behind them, single shots, as Niner and Jimmy engaged the enemy.
“Report!”
“I’m counting six hostiles still moving,” shouted Niner. Another shot. “Make that five!”
The distinctive sounds of AK-47s responding were ignored by Dawson, his main concern the approaching larger force. His guys could take out six—scratch that, five—men with little problem. But they had almost two dozen ahead of them.
Atlas opened fire, a group of four hostiles foolishly clustered together cut down, causing the others to scramble for safety, the vehicles they had been in just coming around a bend slightly down the road. “Hit the engine block!”
Atlas and Dawson opened fire on the lead vehicle, tearing into the engine compartment, Dawson briefly raising his weapon to take out the driver. Steam erupted from the hood, the vehicle jerking to a halt as they redirected their attention to the soldiers on foot.
“Conserve ammo! Just keep them pinned down for now!” Dawson’s mental count had the Brits less than two minutes away. “Control, Bravo Zero-One. ETA on those Marines, over?”
“Less than two mikes, over.”
“We’ve got hostiles at our twelve and five o’clock, over.”
“Roger that, Marines have been briefed as to your situation, over.”
Dawson fired two rounds at someone stupid or brave enough to attempt closing the distance. He dropped, writhing on the ground with a new hole in his leg. Two of his buddies scrambled forward to carry him to safety but Atlas took them out with leg shots as well.
It takes two healthy men to carry out one wounded man.
The three were left to cry for help, the others keeping their heads down.
“Niner, status!”
“Two left, hunkered down. They’re not going anywhere.”
“Good! Keep them that way!”
“Do you hear that?”
Dawson cocked an ear and smiled, the distinctive thumping of helicopter blades approaching.
“Bravo Zero-One, this is Alpha-One-Zero-Alpha, do you read, over.”
The distinctive Limey accent was music to Dawson’s ears. He exchanged grins with Atlas who fired a couple more rounds to keep the enemy heads down.
“Alpha-One-Zero-Alpha, Bravo-Zero-One, reading you five-by-five, over.”
“Keep your heads down, chaps, we’re coming in hot, over.”
Dawson looked to the south and saw two Merlin HM1 helicopters racing toward them, one breaking slightly to their right, mounted L7A2 GPMG’s opening fire on the remaining southern position, Niner waving a thumbs up at them. “Ground beef!” he shouted to Dawson with a grin, returning to covering their flank, just in case someone had survived. The second chopper opened fire on the column, explosions drowning out the screams as the first chopper touched down behind them for a moment, the Marines jumping out, rushing toward Dawson’s position as their ride rose into the air, its guns belching lead at the hostiles.
Dawson gave them a wave, returning his attention to the battle ahead as the Marines advanced in full combat gear, Dawson and his team content to sit back in their thin shirts as the helicopters ceased fire.
An eerie silence settled over the area, pierced only by the occasional sharply issued order by the platoon commander. In less than two minutes the Marines had the site secure, the second group exiting their own chopper to the north, cutting off the escape of what turned out to be three survivors.
It was a bloody day for the enemy.
Just like it should be.
“Careful, men, we don’t know if any of them are infected so keep your distance.” Dawson strode toward the man obviously in charge. Salutes weren’t in order since Dawson was in civvies. “Are you Mr. White?”
Dawson nodded.
“Captain Grimshaw, at your service.” A slight bow was provided, which Dawson knew wouldn’t have been offered if the Captain knew Dawson’s lowly rank.
“Much appreciated, Captain. You arrived just in the nick of time.”
Grimshaw looked about. “I got the impression you had things well in hand.”
“I was two minutes away from calling you off.”
Grimshaw tossed his head back, roaring in laughter. “You Yanks, I’ve missed your sense of humor.”
“Served with us before?”
“Too many bloody times in Iraq.”
“Yeah, been there a few times myself.”
Grimshaw pulled his shades down slightly, revealing his eyes. “Just a few, Mr. White?”
Dawson winked. “Whatever do you mean, Captain?”
“I’m sure I have no idea.” He pointed toward one of the helicopters that had landed. “Shall we give you a lift back to base?”
Dawson shook his head. “Negative. We’ve still got a mission to complete.”
A smile slowly spread across Grimshaw’s face. “You have no idea how happy you just made me.”
“Bored?”
“You have no bloody idea.”
Dawson’s comm squawked. “Bravo Zero-One, Control Actual. Sit rep, over.”
“Control Actual, Bravo Zero-One, situation is secure, over.”
“Good to hear. We’ve got intel from Langley. They just might have found our doctors, over.”
Dawson smiled at the others, Grimshaw not privy to the conversation.
“What is it?”
Dawson tapped his ear. “Eye in the sky. Up for some more action?”
Grimshaw’s smile spread even further. “Absolutely.”
Samaia, Sierra Leone
“Infect these men.”
Sarah froze, uncertain if she had heard Koroma correctly. Infect them? Was he crazy? Suddenly everything that had been said to her, everything that had been overheard, made sense. The constant questions about infection, needle pricks, how long to show symptoms, Koroma’s leaving for America.
They are terrorists!
Her stomach suddenly flipped and her vision blurred as she tried to come to grips with what was going on. She had spent her entire time here trying to survive, trying to prove her usefulness so that she might be rescued. It had never occurred to her that the real reason for her kidnapping had little to do with who she was.
It was what she was.
A doctor.
They had needed someone who could answer their questions then infect them.
But that makes no sense!
Why would they kidnap her, such a high profile doctor? Her father was the Vice President of the United States. If they had taken someone like Tanya, or better yet, a local doctor, no one would have even blinked.
No, there was more going on here than just needing someone to infect them. She was still connected to this somehow, but how, she had no idea. But she had the distinct feeling that after she did infect these men, she’d have served her purpose and would be killed.
And how she’d prevent that, she wasn’t sure.
“I-I can’t do that.”
“You must.”
“But I’m a doctor! I swore an oath to do no harm!”
Koroma pulled his weapon from its holster and pointed it toward the clinic. “I will put a bullet in every single one of those people if you don’t.”
“You’d kill your own daughter?”
Koroma squinted slightly, sucking in a deep breath. “To spare her from the suffering to come? Absolutely.”
“But she can be saved!” Sarah wanted to tell him his daughter might not even be infected, to tell him there might be no suffering at all, but she was certain telling him this would get her, or at least Tanya, killed for certain.
She bit her tongue.
“You and I both know the chances of that are slim. And even if she is saved, she will be alone.”
Sarah looked at him. “So you are going to kill yourself.”
He nodded toward the men. “I ask nothing of my men that I’m not willing to ask of myself.”
Sarah’s head was shaking in disbelief. He was mad, he was crazy. He wasn’t a religious zealot like most terrorists, but he was a zealot nonetheless. If his plan was to infect himself and these men with the Ebola virus, then travel to the United States, he was clearly insane.
And she told him so.
He chuckled. “Doctor, I admire you. You speak your mind even though you are faced with certain death.” He sighed. “No, I am not insane. What is insane is your Western governments allowing what is happening here to have continued on for so long. It is time they tasted the fear and heartache we’ve been experiencing for over a year.”
“But what do you hope to accomplish?”
He shrugged. “Nothing.”
“What do you mean? Don’t you have any demands?”
He shook his head. “No, no demands. It’s too late for demands. The dead are dead and they will remain so. The dying are already dead. Our own government is locking down the country, taking the measures necessary to eventually stamp out this plague until it rears its head again months or years from now. Your money and medicines will merely speed up the inevitable process. Anything I do will not stop that flow as you are now too scared to have it arrive on your own doorstep again. You will do whatever it takes to stop this outbreak from reaching your shores.” He paused, looking at the clinic for a moment then back at her, his voice slightly lower. “But it doesn’t excuse you for what you did.”
“So this is revenge?”
“This is payback. You sat back and did nothing in Rwanda. Almost one million were killed in one hundred days and the world did nothing but talk. Why? No oil. No white people. It’s time you were taught a lesson for your depraved self-interest.”
“Aren’t you scared you’ll just piss us off? That those very people you blame for not urging their politicians to take action will instead be the same people who demand their politicians pull the help we’re now providing?”
Koroma smirked. “If that is the reaction, then they definitely deserve what they get. Why punish an entire people for the actions of one man?”
Sarah couldn’t answer him. “Because” wasn’t a reasonable response, but angry, scared people weren’t always reasonable. If people linked to the Sierra Leonean military and government were implicated in a horrific biological attack on America, what would the response be?
She suspected nothing. There were no terrorist bases to destroy, no weapons of mass destruction to find, no oil fields to secure.
Instead she expected the response would be nothing beyond demanding the perpetrators be brought to justice.
Koroma was right. The West would still fund the efforts to stop the outbreak at its source so it couldn’t be used against them again, and in the end he would have won. His country would be saved, and he would have his revenge.
And deep down, she empathized.
She could never condone it though.
She could tell from Koroma’s expression he felt he had won the argument. He flicked his gun toward the clinic. “Enough talk. You will draw blood from the sickest patient and inject us all with it, starting with me.” She was about to open her mouth when he aimed his weapon at the clinic again. “Do it, or they all die.”
She nodded. “I have to suit up first.”
He shook his head. “We don’t have the time and besides, there’s no need.”
Her chest tightened as if someone were sitting on it as she realized this was it. He was going to kill her as soon as she had finished. Her purpose will have been served.
She nodded, thinking quickly. “At least let me put gloves and a facemask on so I’m not cross-contaminating people.”
He acquiesced, the little lie bought, bare hands or gloves making no difference in this situation—it was only to protect her in case she managed to think of some way to survive the next few
minutes.
She stepped into the front of Zone One, snapping on the gloves then quickly donning the goggles and facemask. She felt naked as she took the syringe from Koroma, pushing the sheet aside to Zone Two. She glanced at Koroma’s daughter, the little girl looking at her curiously, smiling at the first human she had seen in some time who didn’t look terrifying.
Sarah waved at her then let the sheet close behind her as she continued toward Zone Three, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what to do. Then she smiled. She eyed the syringe then her exposed arms and realized that she couldn’t stop what was going to happen here, couldn’t save her life or that of Tanya’s, but she might be able to save thousands back home. She stepped into Zone Three, those inside too weak to even raise their heads to look at her. Looking behind her, she squeezed her left hand tight, extending the arm as she looked for a vein.
“Once again you surprise me, Doctor.” She yelped as Koroma stepped up behind her, grabbing her arm. “I must admit my admiration for you continues to grow. I promise that your death will be painless.”
She stood, staring at the floor, shaking, the syringe now at her side, her brilliant attempt to thwart Koroma’s plans stopped in its tracks. He pointed at a man near death, blood seeping from every orifice. “Take his blood. Now.”
She nodded as he let go of her arm. She stepped over to the man and knelt down beside him, taking his arm in her hand. She quickly filled the syringe’s barrel with the deadly fluid, each drop enough to theoretically infect thousands if not more.
It terrified her.
And there was nothing she could do.
She rose, the man too far gone to have felt what she had done. She handed the syringe to Koroma but he refused it. “Come with me.” He began to head to Zone Two when she grabbed him by the arm.
“No!”
Koroma turned, a look of mild surprise on his face.
“We never go backward.”
“It hardly matters now.”
“And if your daughter were to become infected by us breaking protocol, would you feel the same way?”
Koroma paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”
“What if the blood test was wrong? What if the samples were mixed up? What if she had a mild strain that she could easily survive? Didn’t you notice how we’ve kept her isolated more than the others? We’re giving her every chance she’s got to survive. Don’t risk her life for the sake of an extra few seconds going around the building.”
Payback Page 18
