Rise of the Phantoms (Special Missions Unit Book 1)

by Gary Beller

  A minor explosion went off and the lights atop the antennae above the building went dark. Sid, holding a handheld scanner, reported the antennae to be dead.

  “Alright, Sniper teams, set up to provide cover up here. Everyone else, stack up. Evans, The door please.”

  Evans set up to quietly pick the lock on the door, while Ben ordered grenades ready. Kevin, with his usual sense of humor, spoke up.

  “’ And the Lord spake, saying, "First shalt thou take out the Holy Pin. Then shalt thou count to three, no more, no less. Three shall be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Four shalt thou not count, neither count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out. Once the number three, being the third number, be reached, then lobbest thou thy Holy Hand Grenade of Freedom towards thy foe, who, being naughty in My sight, shall snuff it.”

  “Door’s open.”

  “All units, go.” Ben said into his comm, then counted, “One….Two….Four”

  “No, sir, Three.”

  “Right; one, two, three. Frag out!” Ben, Kevin, John, and Bob Grimes all tossed in their grenades.

  Ben waited a moment, heard the four grenades bouncing down the metal stairwell, and the sounds of the Banor soldiers panicking. A moment later, four muffled explosions sounded in rapid succession. “On me, let’s go!” Ben yelled.

  Ben was on point, leading with the muzzle of his carbine. Immediately behind him was Kevin, with his support gun, and the rest of the team filed in after. In the middle of the column, protected by John and Sid, were Ashlie and Geoff. At the foot of the first stairwell lay the broken and bloody bodies of a half-dozen Banor soldiers. Several others were wounded, and reaching for lost weapons when the team came down. Ben wasted no time and showed no mercy, neither did Kevin or any of the other operators.

  Ben looked around, and saw two sets of stairs going down. Ben split the team, sending Sid, Bob Grimes, John, Evans, Geoff and five other operators down the south stairs, while he took Kevin, Ashlie, and the rest of the team down the north stairs.

  Resistance got stiffer as they moved from the equipment level into the top office floor. On Ben’s side, a senior officer was directing conscripts to move desks to form a barricade. He was quickly cut down, as were two conscripts that tried firing at Ben’s team. “Fix bayonets.” Ben ordered, as they kicked the desks out of the way and continued moving.

  As they rounded a corner, a group of Banor soldiers stepped into the corridor before them, so close Ben almost ran into their leader. Instinctively, he thrust his weapon forward, jabbing the blade of his bayonet into the creature’s gut, twisted it, and fired. Kevin fired from the hip, nearly vaporizing two enemy soldiers. As more enemy soldiers piled into the corridor, Ben yelled for the team to push forward. The corridor quickly became a melee brawl. Rifle butts, bayonets, elbows and boots flew, shots rang out at close quarters.

  Ben felt a sharp pain on his arm, but ignored it for the moment. The yells and screams filled his ears, and he couldn’t tell human from Banor by the sounds of them. After a few moments, the Banor began to fall back, only to be cut down by fire from Sid’s half of the team.

  Ben heard moans behind him, and saw Wilkenson and Mayhew down. Mayhew was obviously dead, but Wilkenson was trying to stand. Ashlie and Geoff ran to tend to him. “Wilkie, talk to me.” Ashlie said.

  “I’m alright, Doc….it’s just a flesh wound.”

  “Sure thing, Wilkie.” Ashlie said, smiling at him. Geoff applied gauze to the three stab wounds in his abdomen, then Ashlie helped wrap a compression bandage around him. “Can you walk?” Geoff asked.

  “Yeah, Chief.” Wilkenson said, standing shakily. “I can walk.”

  “Alright,” Ben said, “Forshaw, Jackson,” He said, grabbing two operators, “Evac Mayhew and Wilkie to the roof, call in one of the jumpers, and then stay the fuck there, got me?”

  “Yes, sir.” The two men said.

  “Go,” Ben ordered, then tapped his Comm. “Delta Blue Actual, Phantom Six, where are you?”

  “Phantom Six, we encountered stiff resistance on the ground level, Delta Red is on the second level now clearing it. We found the control room, but they seemed to have locked themselves in.”

  “What level, Delta Blue?” Ben asked.

  “Second level. We’re making our way up right now.”

  “Roger that, we’re coming down from three, running light.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  Ben found the down stairwell and linked up with the two platoons from Delta Squadron. “Casualties?” Ben asked.

  “Delta Blue has three killed, five wounded. Red has four dead, no wounded.”

  “We just evac’d one KIA and one critically wounded, got a bunch of minor wounds to pretty much everyone else, what’s the hold up here?”

  “It’s a SCIF, sir. And well reinforced. Any chances they’ve burned what we need?”

  “Only one way to find out, Major…How many doors?”

  “Two, one here and one on the other side.”

  “Did you knock?” Ben asked.

  The Major looked at him a moment with an odd expression, then just shook his head. “They said they didn’t order pizza today, try again tomorrow.”

  “Is everyone in this goddamned brigade a fucking comedian?” Sid asked.

  “Pretty much.” Ben and the Major said at the same time. “Alright, dynamic breach and flash bangs, no frag grenades.”

  “Understood.” The Major said.

  “Bravo 6 to Phantom 6, how much longer in there?”

  “We’ve reached the target, how’s business out front?”

  “We got a lot of customers out here. If you guys could put a rush on that thing it’d be appreciated.”

  “Understood Bravo Six.”

  Ben sent Sid’s half of the team with Delta Red around to the far door, and kept his half with Delta Blue. “On my signal, blow the doors. Flash bangs ready.”

  Ben gave a count, and on his mark both breaching charges blew. The doors flew in, followed by a half-dozen flash bangs. The rapid popping of the stun grenades cued the flood of operators into the room. A squad from each platoon formed a defensive perimeter. Inside, only token resistance was met, but Ben was dismayed to find a Banor General and three colonels all dead from apparently self-inflicted wounds.

  “Okay, get a dump on the computers, whatever you can get. See if you can get a cypher key, we got five minutes.”

  Five minutes passed quickly as the computer experts worked their magic. “I think we got everything, sir.” The Major reported.

  “Alright, all ground units to extraction points. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  Getting back up to the roof was much quicker than coming down, and by the time the Phantoms arrived on the roof, the Jumpers were waiting. The Gunships and fighters were still pounding parts of the base, providing last minute covering fire for the withdrawal. The QRF returned to the ship first, followed by the rest of the jumpers, then the fighters. Ben and the other officers conferred for a moment to get a casualty list. In all, 83 Marines were dead, and another 56 wounded in some degree or another.

  Before leaving orbit, Tuefelhund opened the doors on her starboard lower cargo bay, revealing a rack of bombs. The ship launched five of the massive 12.5 ton guided air burst munitions. As the weapons guided themselves into the atmosphere, they oriented into a prearranged pattern, and detonated together above the base, leveling most of the buildings and killing nearly the entire base’s surviving garrison.

  Chapter 15

  The Marines on the ground team weren’t aware of it, but as the bombs went off over the Banor communications base, Teufelhund made two brief transmissions. The first was back to Forward Operating Base Ka-Bar, signaling a mission success with casualties. The second signal went to the Coalition Navy’s regional commander, Admiral Samantha Beech. The message contained a single word: Hush.

  Aboard Admiral Beech’s flagship, The Coalition 7th Fleet’s
Chief of Staff received the message in the Communications center, and ran up to the flag bridge. “Message from UCMCS Tuefelhund.”

  The Admiral looked at her Chief of Staff, and nodded. “Has the message been authenticated?”

  “Message is authenticated, Admiral. Source is confirmed.”

  “Very well, Commander. What is the message?”

  “Hush.”

  “Good,” The Admiral said, “Send to all task forces, commence Quantum Blitz on timescale 3, as per Battle Plan Alpha.”

  With that order, elements of the 5th, 7th, and 10th Fleets of the Coalition Navy, as well as Marine and Army units, moved against the enemy in heavy force. What was a general assault into the enemy’s front became a series of smaller-scale assaults, with the Coalition forces striking isolated Banor forces, in an effort to defeat the enemy forces in detail, rather than giving the enemy a chance to move forces around and set up a much riskier decisive engagement.

  When the Tuefelhund returned to Ka-Bar, a brief memorial was held for the fallen. Brigadier General Hardfighter opened the memorial by congratulating the assault force on their victory.

  “In terms of scale, the Battle of Firinda II will long be remembered as a small battle with massive implications. Your victory has enabled our regular forces to launch an operation that, without your contribution, would have been impossible to consider. Today, elements of three fleets, two field armies, and two Marine Expeditionary Corps are assaulting isolated and confused enemy positions with overwhelming force.”

  The General paused a moment, his gaze looking across the Marines assembled, and then drifting to the field near the landing pad. Standing in the field were memorials to the fallen. Each was the traditional memorial of the warrior: A pair of boots, a rifle standing on its muzzle, a helmet atop the butt, with dog tags bearing the name of one of the dead.

  “Eighty Three men and women gave their lives on or above Firinda II. The downing of Victor 601 accounted for the majority of the casualties, whose bodies we will not be able to return home. Major G. J. Martin, the pilot in command, was the most experienced Special Operations Jumper Pilot in our command. Also aboard his jumper was the Headquarters section and 1st Platoon of Alpha Company, 1st Raider Battalion, all of whom perished when the jumper was destroyed. Staff Sergeant Evan Mayhew was one of the newest members of 1SMU; on the day he formally joined the unit, he told his Commanding Officer that he had achieved one of his career goals, of being a Special Missions Operator. He gave his life in a violent, close quarter’s battle fought with combat knives and bayonets. Private Li Huang was the youngest Marine deployed, at 17. During a fierce firefight at the southeast blocking position, Private Huang provided covering fire as Corpsman David McVeigh tended to a wounded Marine. Private Huang stepped into the open, standing tall and firing his rifle at any enemy he could find. He exposed himself and gave Corpsman McVeigh time to stabilize and move the wounded Marine to cover before being cut down by enemy fire.”

  The General paused again. From near the front, Ben could look around and see Marines and Corpsmen trying desperately to hold back their emotions. Corpsman McVeigh’s cheeks were wet, betraying the tears he tried to wipe away. Lieutenant Felicia Nieves, now the acting Commander of Alpha Company, stood tall with a resolute look on her face…It was a look Ben knew well, that of a young officer trying to be a pillar of strength in a moment of grief.

  The Brigade chaplain stepped up to the podium and offered words of solace, and a prayer that the souls of the fallen would find in death the peace they fought for in life. The General came back to the podium, called everyone to attention, and began the solemn process of calling the final muster. An eerie silence descended upon them as the General called the names. Even the sounds of seabirds and other wildlife fell silent, as if they, too, were in mourning. Everyone saluted as a bugler standing on the beach played Taps as the flag was lowered slowly to half-staff.

  Also on the beach, seven Marines in dress uniforms snapped to attention, and readied their projectile rifles. The detail’s leader’s voice could be heard as he gave the commands. ‘Ready…Aim…Fire,” followed by the sound of gunshots. The process was repeated twice more for the traditional 21-gun salute. Finishing the ceremony, 4 fighters from VMF-99 flew over low and slow in a finger-4 formation. The middle ship, off the leader’s left wing, pulled up sharply just short of the base and flew skyward, while the remaining three held their positions flying over the flag.

  That night, the General gave authorization for the Marines to use the Hyperwave Comm Center to call their loved ones. Ben called his parents, briefly, to let them know he had recovered and was back on duty, and also to introduce them to their grandson.

  John Roberts’ call to his mother was a slightly lengthier conversation.

  “John, how are you baby? I haven’t heard from you since you got reassigned….Is everything okay?” She asked.

  “Yeah, Mom, everything’s fine. We had a pretty rough mission…but it’s alright. I’ve got people looking after me.”

  “That’s what your fellow Marines are for, Hun.” She said, smiling.

  “Well, yeah, they do…and my commanding officer.” John said.

  “Who’s your new CO? Is he a good man?”

  Just then Ben stepped into view of the camera. “Hello, Ms. Roberts, I’m John’s commanding officer.”

  “B….B……Ben?” She stuttered.

  “Yep. How are you?” Ben asked.

  “I think I might be having a heart attack. Are you okay? Your parents said you were wounded…”

  “I’m fine.” Ben said. “So, is there something you need to tell me?”

  “Yeah…” She paused and took a breath, while John interrupted. “Mom, he knows.”

  “I’m sorry, Ben. I should have told you, but you were at the Academy, they might have expelled you…”

  “I could have lived with that.” Ben shrugged. “I’ll talk to you later. John, you and your mom catch up.”

  A few spots over, at another terminal, Kevin Bielema was talking to his wife, Carla and his daughters. Sarah, 8, was standing next to her mother, who held on to 1-year old Hannah. “How’s school going for you, Sarah?” Kevin asked.

  “Good, Daddy. I got straight A’s first semester!” She said excitedly.

  “Awesome, Cupcake! Daddy’s proud of you. And you’re helping your Ma with Hannah, just like I asked?”

  “She’s been a great help, Kev.” Carla said. “Did you move to a new barracks? That doesn’t look like the same place as last time you called.” Her voice sounded worried to Kevin, but she hid it from her face.

  “Well, we moved off base…We uhh…well, the whole brigade packed up and moved up field a bit.” He put it as mildly as he could. Sarah was just starting to understand the concept of what it was, exactly, her father did for work; Kevin didn’t want to worry any of them by saying bluntly that they had moved into the danger zone.

  “Daddy, Aunt Rachel is coming to visit tomorrow! Mommy says she’s doing training here at Pendleton, and she’s arranged to stay with us! Isn’t that so awesome!”

  “Yeah, that’s great!” Kevin said. His younger sister, Rachel Bielema, was a midshipman at the Coalition Naval Academy, following the Marine Option there to become a commissioned officer. Kevin knew, from his talks with Ben and Sid, that Rachel was at the right point in the Academy training where Marine option Midshipmen would attend half a semester at Camp Pendleton for Basic Infantry Officer training. The Academy also arranged, at least for part of the time, to assign the Midshipmen to sponsor families at the post; the fact that Rachel’s sister in law lived on base probably made that arrangement easier.

  “You make Aunt Rachel feel at home, okay?” Kevin asked.

  “We will, don’t worry. Any word on when you’ll get leave?” Carla asked.

  “I dunnow, babe. We’ve been…busy.”

  “We’ve heard. How are the replacements? Are any of them married?” Carla asked.

  “Well, I don’t believe th
ey are…” Kevin said, his voice trailing off. “We lost one though. Evan Mayhew. How are the families holding up?”

  “We’ve been getting together regularly. Both the team and with the Brigade families.” She paused a moment, wiping tears from her eyes. “You stay safe, okay? The black sedans have been through again. A lot of them. Whatever you are doing, watch your six, Gunny. You got work to do at home, understand me?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Kevin said, holding his own emotions in check. Black sedans was a code word for Casualty Assistance Call Officers, the Marine or Navy Officers responsible for notifying the family when a service member was killed in the line of duty. Kevin could only imagine the fear the sight of the black cars driving down the street brought to the families back home, not knowing which house the vehicle would stop at.

  “I have to go,” Kevin said, as the yellow light flashed on the monitor. “I love you guys.”

  “We love you, too.” The three of them blew kisses as the line closed.

  THE PHANTOM’S STORY CONTINUES IN…

  The Phantom’s Valor.

  Ben heard Danny’s radio call as he got to the last gun in the battery. “Wait wait, don’t blow this one!” He said. “Troy, Geoff, grab some shells, let’s get this gun working for us.” He said, cranking the gun around. Having now caught up, John took over the training gear, while Rob lowered the elevation of the gun. “Lead tank, elevation three degrees, traverse two right, load!”

  Troy and Geoff pushed a shell into the chamber, and closed the breach. The capacitor charged, and Ben gave it one final look. “Fire and reload!”