I toss the grenade behind as we near the crossing. The turn is to take us out of the hall so we don’t get peppered by shrapnel. As we turn, five night runners enter the corridor at the junction ahead of us. We are charging toward each other and the distance quickly dwindles.
I raise my carbine and begin firing bursts into their midst just as the grenade goes off behind. The first two go down as if tripped, hitting the floor hard. Still, we race toward each other. Another burst sends a night runner crashing into a rolling cart, tipping it over and spilling its contents to the ground with a crash. I hear two gunshot reports over my shoulder and watch as the two remaining night runners fall. The first flips backward with its feet in the air and the other follows in the same manner a split second later making it look like the two executed a poorly timed synchronized swimming maneuver.
We push past the bodies and turn left as we make our way once again to the east. The halls are filled with such a volume of noise that it seems like a physical presence – which, technically, I guess it is. Doors fly by as we streak down the passage. The grenades slowed the night runners, but they are catching up again. It’s a race for outer offices. It’s one I’m not sure we’re going to win.
As we pass another hallway crossing, I glance left and see night runners streaking past just one hall over. Some stop and turn after us with others surging ahead. They’re faster than we are so there’s a good chance they can draw ahead and trap us. The doors at the far end of the hall draw closer. I feel the toil of the morning beginning to take hold. One can rely on adrenaline for only so long before the body wilts, and we’ve been at an all-out sprint. My breath is starting to get ragged despite my best attempts to push my body on. I don’t know how Lynn is holding up as well as she is. That’s one thing I’ve always admired about her – her toughness.
Crossing yet another junction, I see an unlit sign indicating a stairwell with an emergency exit sign next to the door. This must lead to the stairs I initially attempted to enter. I curse the fact that the door is still tied off or we’d be able use it to escape to the roof. Looking left, night runners are halfway down the hall coming toward us. If these were from the same group that we passed a junction ago, they are gaining a half hall’s length on us with each intersection we pass through. That means we’ll collide head on at the next intersection with the others who plowed ahead. With the night runners now close on our trail, we’ll be trapped between the two groups.
There’s only one more hallway passage after the next intersection between us and the outer offices. We’re so close but if those night runners gain entrance ahead of us, we’re done for. The next crossing looms with the scream of the night runners just behind us shaking my very fillings. It’s so loud that it vibrates my skull. Lynn is running beside me as we near the next intersection. The moment that will tell whether we make it or not is fast approaching. The night runners will either enter the hall ahead of us or we’ll streak by barely in front of them. If we make it through however, it doesn’t guarantee that we’ll make it to the outer offices. It just means that we’ll be alive for just a little longer.
I grab one of the carts as I pass and pull it into the hall behind us in an attempt to slow those on our heels. Even as loud their screams are, I hear the cart clatter as several night runners trip over it. The intersection looms…my breathing is ragged. As we close on the corner, I see the first movements of night runners an equidistance away in the intersecting hall. We’re about to collide into each other at top speed.
I open up and push the pictorial equivalent of ‘Noo! Stop! Death!’ out with force. It’s the only thing I can think of. Any slowing to shoot will only allow the ones behind to catch us. Grenades are not an option due to our proximity and, with the fuse time, even though quick, it will still allow those closest to be past it when it goes off.
The night runners closing from the side slow with startled expressions. Lynn and I race by. They are quick to recover though and resume the chase, colliding with those that were directly behind us. This gives us just a touch more breathing space. I begin tossing the occasional cart and IV stand against the wall into the hall behind. I raise my carbine and fire at the handle of the door directly ahead seeing rounds splinter the wood of the jamb and around the latch.
Lowering my shoulder, I smash into the door at full speed, only slowing as I hit the solid object. It gives under my momentum, crashing inward. I see blinds pulled down over a window, similar to the ones in the office through which I entered. Slivers of light leak through the minute openings. My momentum into the room slams me against a desk. I feel my thighs immediately bruise from to the impact. Ignoring the pain, I reach up and pull on the hanging cord. Sunlight streams into the room.
Two night runners that crashed into the room with us fall to the ground with agonizing screams of pain. Yeah, it was that close. The others pull back from the light, some with screams of pain and others with shrieks of frustration. We’ve made it. I bend over with my hands on my knees, panting heavily.
“Are you okay?” Lynn asks between gasps of breath, her hands also on her knees.
“I’ve been better,” I pant.
With the night runners still screeching just outside of the open door, and having caught a little wind, I raise the window and radio the team. I can hear the elation in their responses.
“Now, let’s get out of here,” I say, rigging Lynn up with a spare D-ring and tying a length of 550 cord off around a heavy filing cabinet.
I test the weight as it wouldn’t be cool to come through what we did only to fall forty or fifty feet upon exiting. We rappel down the side into the midst of the others gathered around the snaking end of the cord. Everyone gives Lynn hugs along with heartfelt ‘welcome backs’. All rank is forgotten. Drescoll, his team, and even Robert have come to welcome Lynn back.
I look at Bri. She is standing nearby with tears streaming down her cheeks. She runs over and throws her arms around me. I feel her tighten her hug and begin sobbing.
“Dad…I was so scared,” Bri says through her sobs, her voice muffled against me.
With the continued shrieks of night runners drifting out of the open window above, I wrap my arms around her and hold her close.
“I love you, Bri,” I say.
“I love you too, Dad.”
She pulls away after a moment and wipes the tears from her cheeks, spreading dirt across them. Robert even steps in and gives me an embrace.
Lynn turns from the others, and, without saying a word, wraps me in the tightest hug I think I’ve ever had. I hug her back fiercely, feeling warmth course through my body. I cannot even begin to describe how happy I am that she’s safe and I can hold her again. I can feel the weight she has lost. Her ordeal must have been horrific. It’s time to get her back so she can clean up, eat, and rest.
“Thank you again, Jack. I love you so much,” she whispers in my ear.
“I love you so very much, Lynn.”
We release each other, too soon in my opinion, and I tell the others to load up and return to Cabela’s. Red Team stays as they’ll be our ride home.
“What about the helicopter?” Robert asks. “Are we flying it back?”
“I suppose we should,” I say, hearing the other vehicles start up and pull away. “You ride with the others, I’ll fly Lynn back.”
We begin walking through the knee-high grass growing on the hospital grounds. The others are behind me with Robert nearly at my side. Away from the walls and nearing the sidewalk, I release my nearly spent mag. Fumbling, I drop it. Robert reaches down to pick it up.
“I’ve got it,” I say, stooping to retrieve it.
I feel a pressure of air and hear an all too familiar ‘zip’ pass over my head. Warm liquid splashes on the back of my neck and in my hair. A sharp report follows.
“Sniper,” I yell, instinct taking over.
# # #
About the Author
John is a former Air Force fighter instructor pilot who transitioned to Special Operation
s for the latter part of his career gathering his campaign ribbon for Desert Storm. Immediately following his military service, he became a firefighter/EMT with a local fire department. Along with becoming a firefighter, he began a career in the Information Technology industry starting two large casinos in Washington as the Information Technology Manager and becoming the Network Manager for the Washington State Legislature, the Northwest Information Technology Manager for the Federal Aviation Administration, and the Network Systems Manager for Hollywood Video. Currently, John is self-employed with his own Information Technology consulting company, consulting and managing various businesses with their information technology needs. He also volunteers for a local youth center managing their computer lab.
As a former marathon runner, John lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest and can now be found kayaking out in the waters of Puget Sound, mountain biking in the Capital Forest, hiking in the Olympic Peninsula, or pedaling his road bike along the many scenic roads.
Connect with me online
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Web site:
http://anewworldseries.com
Email:
[email protected]
Merchandise Store:
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A New World: Takedown Page 31
