Irregular Scout Team One: The Complete Zombie Killer series

by John Holmes

  A HUMVEE and two LMTV’s pulled up, and an angry looking Major in full battle gear climbed out. “Get the fuck in, you’re going in” and he looked at his watch “twenty three minutes.”

  “What do you mean were going now? In daylight? You have to be shitting me!”

  “Sergeant Major, in case you haven’t noticed, things kicked off a little early. They still expect you to be going in tonight, so you ‘ll have the element of surprise on your side. We’ll talk in the truck. Get in.”

  Brit and Captain Hideyoshi climbed in with me, Brit climbing up into the turret. She racked the bolt on the 240B and sat down on the gunner’s seat.

  Captain H leaned forward and asked the Major “What about the AC-130 gunship support? They can’t go in daylight.”

  The Major stopped talking into his handset for a second. “No go. You will have Apaches on station for ten minutes, and JDAM strikes on the barracks. That’s all you get.”

  Hideyoshi sat back and muttered “shit”. Shit was right.

  We were passing a long column of troops who were mounting trucks, armored LMTV’s, and HUMVEES, Bradleys Fighting Vehicles and Strykers. I heard the sound of Velcro ripping and Brit’s lower half spun in the turret to face them. Then she stood up and I saw the bottom half of her T-shirt rise up. A massive cheer rose up from the Infantry, accompanied by wolf whistles and cat calls.

  “GIVE ‘EM HELL, BOYS! REMEMBER WHAT YOU’RE FIGHTING FOR!” I grabbed her leg and dragged her back down into the turret as she pulled her shirt down.

  “Jesus Christ, Brit.”

  She looked back down at me as she resealed her body armor. “What, Nick? Half those kids have never been laid in their lives, and half of THEM are going to be dead by tonight.” Captain H had a shit eating grin on his face, and I shot him a dirty look. I pointed up at Brit and mouthed “My wife”.

  We made it down to the other end of the runway where three Blackhawks, a CH-47, and two Apaches sat. The Apaches were hastily rearming and refueling crews removing rocket pods and hoisting Hellfire Missiles into place, cramming linked 30mm ammunition in for the chain guns. One of the Blackhawk pilots detached himself from the group and walked towards us. As soon as we stopped, Brit let out a squeal and climbed down the front of the truck. She ran over to the pilot and put him in a bear hug.

  “Good to see you again, Nick” said the pilot. I gripped his hand tightly. Major McHale had rescued Brit wen she had been shot in upstate NY, and I had rescued him when his helo had gone just after the outbreak. I felt better knowing he was along for the mission.

  We gathered around the back of the CH-47, and I pulled out a clipboard. No one questioned the fact that we were going early. Like any soldier with time on the line, they knew that no plan survived contact with the enemy.

  “Chalk ONE, Agostine, Hart, Redshirt, Zivkovic, Bognaski, McWane.”

  “Chalk TWO, Ball, Collier, Williams, Sullivan, Kisner”

  I had to raise my voice as rain started to come down and engines started to wind up.

  “CHALK THREE, HIDEYOSHI, O’NIEL, O’NEIL, EBLING, HENDERSON, GLEASMAN, RINGO, ORR!” The O’Neil’s of IST -4 were no relation to Brit, but they abused her like some kind of kid sister whenever we all got together.

  “CHALK FOUR, SZIMANSKI, SZIMANSKI, SZIMANSKI, WALL, BAUBLIZ, THOMAS”

  The guys started to grab their weapons and gear and I halted them, and looked them over. I felt like crying, honestly. They were good men and women, and I knew what I was leading them into.

  “Listen to me. I’m not going to give you some bullshit Henry The Fifth speech! I expect some of us, maybe all of us, are going to die today.” The engine roar was getting louder and the rotors on the UH-60’s were slowly starting to spin. The Apaches lifted off the ground and darted North. “WE ALL SHOULD HAVE DIED FOUR YEARS AGO, BUT WE DIDN’T. I HOPE WE DON’T TODAY, BUT IF I DIE, I WANT TO DIE DOING THE RIGHT THING. I LOVE YOU ALL, MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS, AND YOU ARE THE BEST OF MEN.”

  I stood there as each one passed me by and shook my hand. Some gave me a hug and a slap on the back. The rain started coming down harder, and I waved for my guys to head for the lead Blackhawk. Brit stopped me and grabbed my arm before I ducked under the rotor wash. She kissed me hard on the mouth and yelled in my ear “IF YOU GET KILLED, I’LL KILL YOU.”

  I nodded, “said “THANKS FOR STAYING BACK” and turned away crouching down and jumping into the open doors of the 60. I buckled in and closed my eyes as the helo lifted off the runway and spun to face north.

  The Chinook peeled off soon as we hit water, to drop off Team Five in their Zodiac. We flew low to avoid gunfire and detection, hopping up and down the hills, and then settled down into a small valley. Overhead, the Apaches popped up and launched a volley of Hellfire Missiles. The Blackhawks leapt up over the ridge line and dove, nose downward, for the water below, charging towards the island. The rain had stopped and the sun had broken through the clouds as we flew low over Puget Sound, sunlight glittering on the wave tops. I leaned back and checked the straps on my leg, making sure it was tight, then looked over as the Helo contain Team Two pulled up next to us. From a hundred feet away, I saw the closest soldier to me leaning out the door, facing the sun. A long strand of red hair blew in the wind, pulled loose by the rotor wash. Brit looked at me and blew me a kiss as the first tracer rounds zipped past us.

  Chapter 26

  For every tracer round that went past us, three more went by unseen. One visible tracer, and a few more unseen ones, impacted in the front of Voodoo Three, past the bird with Brit on it. It was carrying the guys that were going to land in the font of the Headquarters building, Captain Hideyoshi’s team. As I watched ,it started to smoke and lose altitude, struggling to keep up with the other helos. The machine gun fire stopped abruptly as a Hellfire missile impacted on it.

  “THIRTY SECONDS!” yelled Major McHale over the intercom, and I felt a tremendous BANG, simultaneous with a shaking vibration that ran through the entire airframe. Not frigging good. The crew chief abandoned his machine gun and started flipping switches.

  “HARD LANDING! HOLD TIGHT!” came over the intercom, and vibration increased. We cleared the shoreline at about a hundred feet up but sinking fast. I couldn’t see the other helos, and the vibration increased, shaking us right down to our teeth. The roof of the HQ building passed under us as the nose flared, and I got a wild thought. It looked just like Call of Duty, where you’re flying in a helo, trying to pick off RPG teams and riflemen on rooftops. I looked over at Ziv, sitting across from me, and he gave me two thumbs up. Then we hit the ground hard and bounced once, throwing the unsecured crew chief out of the open doors and into the still spinning rotors. His blood splashed back onto us as his torso went two separate ways.

  We came to a crashing stop, but stayed level due to some damn good piloting. Good thing, though that this bird wasn’t our trip out. We all started to unstrap, but no one moved until the rotor blades stopped turning. A DHS trooper came around the corner of the building, spray a few bursts directly into the cabin of the helo, then ducked back. Most of the rounds went high, but one tore a groove across Ziv’s face, leaving a bloody line across his chin. He ignored it and kneeled on the ground just outside the cabin and put two rounds into the man as she popped out again to fire.

  I was right behind him, and followed by the rest of the team. Ziv and Corporal Bognaski ran to the corner and started firing at something I couldn’t see. I detailed Red to check on the helo crew, and ducked under the tail of the plane to check the situation on the other side, where Team Two had been dropped off. Two of them were holding the other corner of the building, but there was no incoming fire.

  I keyed my radio and asked Team Four for a sitrep. Captain H came back on telling me they had made a safe landing and were holding tight in front of the building, using their own grounded Blackhawk as cover. I directed him to establish a blocking position covering the road back to town, and left them to their own devices to keep anyone from exiting the front
doors. Then I checked on Team Five but got no response to repeated calls.

  “FOEHAMMER, this is LOST BOYS” I said, after switching over to the aviation net. “What have we got?”

  The Apache Mission Commander’s voice came back blurred by the thud of her rotor blades. “Negative contact on the barracks, looks like the whole thing was blown to hell. Your FIVE element is in a serious fight over at the docks.” Even as she spoke, her Apache rotated 180 degrees and fired off another Hellfire, then engaged a target with her chain gun. The spent brass rained down on us, and I hunched over as one of the hot canisters glanced off my helmet. “Moving to assist now, FOEHAMMER OUT.”

  There wasn’t anything I could do to help Team Five, so time to concentrate on the mission on hand. I moved over to the cinder block wall, even as Red and Hart came over, accompanied by Major McHale carrying an M-4. He had a stunned look on his face, and blood ran from a cut on his forehead. Doc McWane sat him down and started checking his cut.

  Brit came running up with a shit eating grin on her face, like she had pulled some kind of a joke on me. True be told, I was glad she was there, watching my back. Four years of fighting together and I we knew each other’s’ moves inside and out.

  “I’ll deal with you, later.”

  She laughed out loud. “Oh please spank me!”

  Dammit. “OK, let’s do this!” I yelled. “Bognaski, you have rear security with the medics. Major McHale, please give him a hand.” We already had two wounded, one from a stray round that had hit one of Team Twos guys’ in the back of the neck, and a broken ankle. I counted paces along the wall until I reached a spot where the hallway should be, about twenty feet down, and pointed there for Hart. She came running up and broke open her demo kit, quickly unrolling a rope of plastic explosive and mashing it up against the building. Just as we practiced, she stepped away as we stacked against the side.

  “Wait, stop!” Hart came running back up and placed another rope of plastic and gave a thumbs up. “More is better!” she said, ran back, and yelled “FIRE IN THE HOLE!” Then she held up her gloved hand, counted down three, two, one and hit the detonator.

  CRACK as the blasting cap went off, followed by BOOM as the wall blew inward, and upward. The force of the explosion not only blew a hole in the wall, but also blew apart part of the floor above it. Instead of rushing in right after the blast, we were all defended and stunned by the blast. I shook my head to clear it, then felt Red slap me on the shoulder. I put my hand on Ziv’s back and we charged into the smoke and concrete dust, weapons up.

  The first room was clear, as was the hallway behind. Nothing. “CLEAR!” yelled Ziv. We advanced down the hallway, towards the stairs, which were at a T-junction. Nothing. Intel told us to expect at least a reinforced squad, and we had squat.

  “I got a bad feeling about this” whispered Brit. I nodded, keeping my weapon up, sight just below the level of my eye. I motioned for Red to look and he started to peep around the corner, just as Ziv looked around the other end of the T.

  “Clear!” they both said at the same time. Just as they said it, a frag grenade came bouncing down the stairs.

  “GRENADE!!!!!” yelled Red and he kicked it as hard as he could down the corridor to the left. It went off a few feet from his foot with a flat, ringing CRACK. Red fell to the floor, holding his leg, as shrapnel ricocheted around the cinder block walls. I felt a sharp tug and a stinging sensation on my sleeve as a piece tore up my arm.

  Ziv tossed a flash bang back up the stairs and charged forward, taking the steps two at a time. “ZIV, NO!” I yelled, then said fuck it and charged up after him. I passed Brit, who was dragging Red by the carrying strap on his body armor, leaving a bloody streak across the floor. Ziv’s rifle barked twice, then again.

  I spun as I went up the stairs, trying to keep up with Ziv and cover his back. Below me I saw Hart grabbing Red from Brit, and she followed me up. Our plan of having Team Two clear the top floor had gone to shit, and I told them so on the radio. Ball answered and said he would link up with Team Four at the front of the building.

  At the top of the stairs, Ziv was holding out a mirror on a telescoping metal stick, trying to see around a corner. The mirror shattered as a burst of fire flew past him, rapid sustained fire from what sounded like a Squad Automatic Weapon.

  “Sandbagged doorway. SAW, maybe three guys. That’s the door to the room the President is in, yes?” He stopped and lit a cigarette, drew in a deep drag, then stubbed it out. “So, we cannot use rocket launcher, no?”

  “Nope. Gimme a second to figure this out.”

  Captain Hideyoshi’s voice came over the head set. “Nick, were getting some company here. The Apaches have bugged out, there’s a major air battle going on overhead. Break”

  “and we’ve got two Strykers coming up the road at us.”

  “Understood.” Shit, we were running out of time.

  Ziv put his hand on my shoulder, squeezed it once and said “I will see you in hell, brother.” He turned, threw another flash bang down the hallway, and charged out before I could stop him, firing on full automatic and yelling some kind of weird Serbian war cry. I dove after him, firing a burst past him as I landed on the floor. His rounds took out the machine gunner crouched behind plywood and sandbags, and I hit another one in the face. The third man fired back and cut Ziv down. Brit’s shotgun boomed over my head and the trooper was hurdled backwards by a load of buckshot.

  Brit screamed and bent down over Ziv, yelling at him. “NO, Ziv, you stupid Serbian asshole, no, don’t you do this to me.”

  He coughed and choked up blood as I advanced on the doorway. “Let me die in peace, you red headed useless skirt. I go to see” and he choked up some more blood “I go see my wife.” He closed his eyes and started coughing again, blood making a Joker’s type grin around his face as he grimaced.

  “Oh Jesus” said Brit and she started sobbing. “Oh no, Ziv not you. Oh no no. You stupid brave bastard.”

  “Come on, Brit, we gotta go. Brit!” I slapped her on the side of the helmet, not taking my sights off the doorway, and she stood up; but first she kissed her hand and placed it on his bloody lips. She wiped tears and snot away with the back of her sleeve and racked another round into her shotgun.

  “Ready up” she said, and we approached the doorway together, like we had done so many times in the past.

  Chapter 27

  I drew a flash bang from my vest, and looked Brit into Brit’s blazing blue eyes, framed by dirt and soot. She nodded and racked the slide, dropping four shells out and slipping a breecher round into the chamber, put then placed the other three rounds back in the magazine, followed by another breecher from her vest. She placed the twelve gauge up against the top hinge of the door and fired, shattering the corner of the door and ripping the hinge out. She started to move down to the bottom, and I pushed her hard back against the wall. The center of the door shattered, sending splinters flying as bullet holes ripped through the oak from top to bottom, joining the holes from a minute ago.

  She fired again, the shotgun slamming back into her shoulder, and this time she was ready for the return fire that came back at her, pulling back behind the doorway. She stumbled when she stepped on the bloody body of one of the dead guards and sat down hard. I pulled her back up, kicked the door at the doorknob, and threw the stun grenade in. It went off with a CRACK and a blinding flash that came right back at me through the doorway.

  My ears ringing, I pushed through the door with my shoulder, bringing my rifle up to bear as I did, and I couldn’t see. We, I could see, but I was seeing two of everything. Shit shit shit. I had been hit in the head too many times. Brits’ shotgun boomed and the two figures on the right went down. I took a bead through my scope, and placed the two dancing dots, which should have been one, on the two armored guys on the right, and fired a three round burst.

  “DON’T SHOOT!” screamed a man sitting behind a big desk in front of a row of computer monitors and plasma screens. I shook my head tryin
g to clear it, and saw Brit buttstroke the man with her shotgun. He collapsed to the floor just as my vison cleared. She stepped back and covered him with her gun as he tried to stand again.

  I whipped out a picture that I had been given back at Fort Orange, holding it up to his bloody face. “That’s him, let’s go!”

  President Taylor held up his hand, blood pouring from a cut on his forehead. He started laughing, and Brit raised her gun, pointing it directly in his face. “What’s so fucking funny, asshole?”

  “Brit, that’s a deadman’s switch. The second he lets go, something is going to happen. Maybe the building is wired to explode.”

  The man laughed even harder at what I said, a hard, maniacal laughter. “I have every single camp wired, every village and town in the Pacific Northwest, wired to let loose the Z virus. Forty million new undead for you and your asshole Army buddies to deal with!” He laughed even harder. “England Japan, Singapore, I’ve got them all!”

  Brit’s gun never wavered. “He’s full of shit, Nick. Almost the entire world has been vaccinated. Let me kill him.”

  “Go ahead” he said, making a visible effort to keep his insanity under control. “When you killed Doctor Morano, she left al her notes for our researchers. I ordered a new plague developed, one that the vaccine didn’t work on. Just a little DNA twist.”

  He saw Brit start when he said “you killed Doctor Morano.” He laughed again. “Oh yes, I know who you are, the famous Brit O’Neil and Nick Agostine.”

  I was covering him with my rifle now too half listening as the battle outside heated up. SFC Ball rushed in with several guys from his team, and I quickly told them to reinforce Captain H out front and get ready to move out. He left us in there with a look back at Taylor.

  “Here’s what I want. I want a jet and some loyal men to go with me to Hawaii. Say, a couple hundred loyal men and enough heavy weapons that I can set myself up there on one of the islands. Not a big price to ask for the world, is it?”