by Mike Kraus
“Listen up. I want the exact location of the house where Omar’s staying. I want to know the lay of the land between the edge of the road here and the house. Is it a field? Are there trees? Any big holes? Any fences? What’s around the house itself? You tell me everything you know, got it?”
The guard nodded and began talking at a rapid pace, telling them everything he could think of that might be relevant to Jackson’s demand. The trio listened closely for a few minutes until the guard wound down, then Jackson roughly put the gag back in. “Good job. Stay here and don’t try anything stupid.”
Jackson, Linda and Frank all moved down away from the guard and Linda spoke first. “You still sure about this, Jackson?”
“It sounds like a straight shot between here and the house. By the time you two get into position I’ll be back with the truck and we can get this show on the road.”
“Honk three times before you turn in, okay? Let us know that you’re starting your run.”
“Three times, yep. Will do.”
“Good. And stay safe. That thing’s not bulletproof.
“Relax, I’ll be fine.”
“See that you are. We’ll start moving out now.” Linda looked at Frank, who nodded at her.
“I’m ready when you are.”
With one final exchange of looks between the three, Jackson turned and began jogging back toward where they had left the truck. Frank and Linda, meanwhile, headed in the opposite way down the ditch. Frank was in the lead and continued on while Linda took a few seconds to stop and kneel down next to the guard, whispering in his ear before getting up and following after Frank. The guard’s face, which already looked like he was scared half to death, turned pale. As the trio split up he stayed motionless on the ground on the ditch, too frightened to do anything but blink and take shallow breaths through his nose.
Frank glanced back at the guard as Linda caught up with him and raised his eyebrow. “What on earth did you say to him?”
Linda gave a coy smile and shrugged. “They call me Shey’taan so I’m just embracing it.”
“You’re terrible.”
“Not nearly as much as they are. Now come on; we need to pick up the pace if we’re going to get into position before Jackson gets back.”
***
The truck barreled down the road, the engine roaring as Jackson kept the accelerator pressed down against the floor. There was no more pretense of stealth as he followed the curve of the asphalt, preparing to make his move from on-road to off-road. His rifle sat on the floor of the passenger seat nearby and his backpack was in the rear seat. His vests were stuffed full of mags for his rifle as well as a small plastic and metal device with a handle, short antenna and pair of buttons.
Sitting on the dashboard—secured against the movement of the truck by several strips of tape—was a tan block with a small antenna and electronics housing mounted to one end. A pair of wires led from the housing to a detonator buried in the tan block. Despite the fact that the C-4 was incredibly stable, Jackson couldn’t help but feel nervous and glance at it with each bump and sharp turn he took in the truck, as though they could somehow trigger the blasting cap.
“Here goes nothin’.” Jackson turned the wheel and guided the truck at an angle over the ditch on the left side of the road, cringing as it groaned from the bumps and jostling. Saplings and tall, brown stalks of grass slapped the underside of the truck and the noise from the road vanished, replaced by the soft thumping of dirt and debris as the wheels fought for traction amid the leaves, sticks and loose earth.
“Straight across the field, take a left at the first fence.” Jackson mumbled to himself as he drove along, repeating what the guard had told them about the location of the house. Trusting an enemy combatant for information on said combatant’s superior wasn’t the most reliable way of getting intel, but given their situation and the time crunch they were under, it was all that they had to go on.
Jackson kept the truck moving at a slow but steady clip as he tried to keep from rattling the vehicle apart. There had been no sign of guards near the road or in the field, and as he approached a line of trees with a fence nearby he turned to the left to swing around the fence and had his first direct encounter with a patrol.
Gunfire exploded out from the trees, punching holes in the doors on the passenger side of the truck and shattering the glass in the rear right window. Jackson ducked low in his seat and pushed hard on the accelerator, trying to get out of the line of fire. Two men stepped out of the line of trees as the truck roared by, rifles to their shoulders as they continued to fire, though most of the rounds failed to connect. Those that did plinked harmlessly off the back of the truck.
As the trees thinned out into brush and saplings, Jackson pulled the wheel hard to the right, intending to go around the trees and use them as cover as he continued speeding toward the house. The sight of a trio of armed men running across the field made him spin the wheel back in the other direction as he veered away from them. They opened fire, sending more rounds into the truck, and he felt a searing pain in his right arm as one nicked him near the shoulder and two others hit the dashboard, with one slicing through the upper portion of the tan brick of C-4.
“Dammit!” Jackson shouted as he pushed the truck to go even faster while he swerved back and forth to try to make himself harder to hit. As he crested a small hill, he saw a large house and barn that the guard had described loom into view and a rush of fear seized his gut. Somewhere inside was the man that they had been hunting, the one who had caused so much damage and destruction, and Jackson wasn’t nearly ready enough to face him.
Pulling the wheel to the left, he pointed the truck toward the nearby woods just as the doors to the barn off to his right flew open, revealing a small tracked vehicle with a heavy machine gun mounted on the top. The vehicle pulled out of the barn with surprising nimbleness and speed and the gun rotated around at the direction of a man standing atop the vehicle and opened fire on Jackson’s truck.
Unlike the smaller 7.62 rounds fired from the guards’ weapons, the vehicle-mounted gun fired .50 BMG rounds which tore through the truck like it was made out of tissue paper. Jackson yelped in surprise and veered off to the left, driving away from the house and barn as the vehicle and several guards from patrols and from near the house followed in pursuit. His truck slowed as it neared the woods and turned again, to the right, before continuing onward and smashing around a tree. A few seconds after the impact, the smoking and bullet-riddled vehicle exploded with a deafening roar that shook the trees for miles around.
Even though those in pursuit of the truck were a fair distance away, they couldn’t help but shield their eyes and pull back a few paces as the truck vanished in a massive fireball. The tracked vehicle, having driven too close to the truck after it crashed, was caught in the blast and torn apart as the gunner went spinning off of his perch out into the field. Pieces of metal flew in all directions, and several nearby trees virtually disintegrated as they split apart at their bases, sending wood and sap raining down for a good hundred feet in every direction. The heat from the blast was intense, and it made it impossible for the guards to get close.
They formed a half-circle around the truck at a distance instead, keeping their weapons closely trained on it as though the driver could have somehow survived the impossible and might come crawling out at any second. Minutes ticked on as the flames slowly spread through the trees, prompting the guards to fetch water hoses and fire extinguishers to try and slow its spread, but there was still no sign of Lieutenant Jackson.
***
As Jackson was nearing where they had left the truck, Frank and Linda were already deep inside the boundaries of the property where Omar was hiding. They had made a beeline along the road to the north, slipping past one two-man patrol and venturing toward what they hoped was the northern side of the main house. The guard had described the house as having thick woods on nearly three sides, and up ahead in the distance Linda and Frank could see t
he trees growing thicker as they angled back toward the south.
Both Frank and Linda walked along in silence, saving their energy for their quick pace that occasionally sped up to a jog before winding back down to a walk. As the brush and trees grew thicker the closer they got to the woods, the slower they were forced to go. It seemed like no one had taken care of clearing out the area in years, and every step was one filled with scratches and scrapes.
Linda took the lead as they closed in on the house, and as they left the field and smaller trees behind for the mature woods, she suddenly stopped and knelt down, motioning for Frank to do the same. He squatted down just behind her and whispered in her left ear.
“What’s going on?”
She shook her head at him, wanting him to keep quiet, then motioned up ahead with a tilt of her neck. Frank straightened his back, looking over her to get an eye on what she was seeing, then immediately ducked back down as he saw it. He nearly muttered under his breath but kept quiet instead, cursing silently instead.
A pair of men dressed in thick jackets, camouflage pants and carrying rifles were walking through the forest, heading directly for where Linda and Frank were kneeling. The brush in the woods had thinned out, making it easier to walk through and offering less options for concealment. As the men got closer, Linda adjusted her grip on her rifle, unsure of what to do. Firing her rifle so close to where Omar was supposed to be would alert him, but if she didn’t do something then the men would see her and Frank before they got much closer.
Just as she was about to stand and fire on them, the two guards stopped in their tracks and turned around, leaned up against a pair of trees and began quietly talking to each other as they broke out a pair of cigarettes and a lighter. Their behavior made it obvious that they weren’t supposed to be taking a smoke break, but Linda didn’t mind a bit. She slipped her rifle strap off of her shoulder and passed the weapon to Frank before she crept forward, her right hand going to the knife strapped to the small of her back.
With the breeze already creating a fair amount of background noise, Linda’s quiet steps through the damp leaves and dirt underfoot were barely audible, and neither of the guards noticed her presence until the one closest to her had his throat slit from one side to the other. His partner fumbled with his rifle as he dropped his cigarette, but Linda was on him in a flash, covering his mouth with one hand while plunging the knife between his ribs and deep into his heart. She sat atop him for a moment, holding him down until he stopped thrashing, then she slowly stood up and put a hand against her chest.
Frank was about to speak when the sound of a huge explosion made him instinctively duck down. A brief flash of light shone through the trees and he turned to Linda. “Holy…” Frank’s eyes were wide as he whispered to her. “You think that was Jackson?”
Linda nodded, closing her eyes and taking another slow, deep breath. “Probably.”
“I hope he’s okay.” Frank looked out in the direction of where the sound had originated, then he looked back at Linda and saw the look of pain on her face. “What’s wrong?”
“It hurts. Bad.” She held out her hand, motioning with her fingers. “Get in my pack and get out the black case, the one with the syringes.”
“Are you sure? Jackson said—”
“I swear if you don’t hand me that case you’re going to wake up on the ground a week from now wondering what hit you.”
“Okay, okay!” Frank shrugged in surrender and leaned her rifle against a nearby tree before unzipping her backpack and retrieving the black case containing the two remaining syringes. Linda nodded her thanks as she opened the case, rolled up her sleeve and got a syringe ready.
“The house can’t be much farther ahead. Give me two minutes to deal with this and then we’ll move in.” She glanced at her watch. “Jackson should be in position to assist here in a few minutes, too.”
“Just tell me what to do if you need help.” Frank watched as she pushed the tip of the needle into her vein and slowly injected the potent mixture. She pulled the needle out and put it back in the black case, which Frank put back into her pack, and it only took another moment for her to feel the effects. She leaned against a tree to steady herself as a feeling of euphoria rushed through her head. The pain in her chest began to melt away and she felt energized and ready to conquer the world. She took her rifle and looked at Frank, giving him a determined nod.
“Let’s finish this.”
Chapter 15
While the lack of gunfire involved in taking out the pair of guards on their smoke break helped to hide the advance of Linda and Frank at first, the massive explosion did most of the work in keeping them concealed. All of the guards on the property came running toward the noise, and though Frank and Linda had to duck down and stay still a few times to avoid being seen, they were able to make progress toward the house in a safe and fast fashion.
At the edge of the woods they pushed up against a pair of large oak trees, keeping low and behind scraggly brush and bushes. The flames from the explosion were licking at the trees farther away in the woods, down to the south and west of the house, and the source of whatever had blown up wasn’t visible.
What was visible, however, was the house itself and the collection of guards wearing military-style gear who surrounded an unarmed man. The guards and the man were staring at something off in the distance, and the man was gesticulating wildly as he shouted orders. It took Linda a moment to realize that the man was, in fact, Omar, but when she recognized him she raised her rifle. Frank saw the motion out of the corner of his eye and turned to warn her not to shoot. It was too late, though, and a single shot rang out just as Omar began to turn back to the house with his entourage.
One of the guards who had been standing just next to Omar toppled to the ground, blood spilling from a hole in his head. The other five guards turned in unison toward the direction of the shot and opened fire without hesitation, sending their shots wildly into the woods. Frank pulled Linda back just before she could be spotted and they sat behind the oaks as rounds whizzed past.
Frank looked over at Linda with wide eyes, not daring to speak as the guards continued to fire. She shook her head at him in return and he shrugged, not knowing what to do. She motioned with her hands and head, pantomiming returning fire, then held up five fingers and began to mouth out a countdown. Frank took a deep breath, waited until she mouthed “one,” peeked out from behind his tree and opened fire.
Linda was able to drop two more guards and Frank winged a third before the surviving three guards made their way back around the house and into cover. The few seconds of respite from the hail of gunfire was immediately punctuated by more from the southwest, off toward where the explosion had occurred. The patrols and guards near the house that had been focused on the wreckage of the truck were drawn up closer to the house by the gunfire and the shouts from the three survivors still behind the house.
Frank dug his back into the oak, shielding himself from the house as he began firing on the enemies advancing through the edge of the woods, sending them scrambling for cover as they split up and branched out, looking to flank the pair. Linda, meanwhile, stayed focused on the trio around the side of the house and managed to take another one of them down with a round through the head before a spray of heavy fire from an upper floor of the house drove her back behind the tree.
“Linda!” Frank shouted at her over the staccato gunfire. “We’re getting surrounded! There’s too many of them out in the woods!” He fired again, grunting in satisfaction as he finally dropped one of the advancing guards.
“Don’t stick your head out around the trees; Omar’s got someone upstairs shooting down. We can’t fight that kind of elevated fire until we get the ones in the woods cleared out!” She squeezed one eye halfway shut and aimed down her sight, trailing the scope across a runner in the woods before firing three times. He fell with a scream and she ducked down into the scrub as return fire peppered the area. Even as the man fell, three more
took his place, and soon all Frank and Linda could do was press themselves to the ground and take a few potshots all while hoping that a stray round wouldn’t slice into them.
“We’re in trouble here!” Frank shouted at Linda.
“No kidding!” She rolled her eyes as she fired from a prone position, tearing bits of bark and wood from a distant oak. The guard she was firing at crouched out of sight and she crawled forward into some thicker brush. “Just try to keep them pinned down! Maybe we’ll get lucky or something!”
The heavy thumping and snapping of the 7.62 rounds continued unabated for another moment until, off in the woods, Linda’s ears perked up at a new sound. Lighter and snappier than the guards’ weapons, it came in bursts a few seconds apart and seemed to be changing position rapidly, like the bearer of the weapon was moving through the trees at a breakneck pace. Shouts went up a moment later and the gunfire that had been solely directed at Frank and Linda’s position was suddenly redirected, offering them a welcome reprieve.
“Frank!” Linda shouted at him as she pushed herself up on one knee. “Start taking them out!”
“Are you crazy? They’re just going to shoot us once we stand up!” Frank lifted his head, but still kept his body pressed to the ground.”
“It’s Jackson! He’s coming in on their rear! Come on!” She stood and fired, then ran forward to a nearby tree and fired again, taking out two of the guards who had spun around to hide from the surprise attack, exposing themselves to Frank and Linda’s position.
Frank stood up, took aim and fired at another guard who was running and downed him, then Frank joined Linda and they began to advance, each covering the other while they advanced. The rapid-fire bursts of their weapons soon drowned out the heavier fire from the guards, and in less than a minute they had managed to down the last of the guards in the woods, all while staying in cover from the ones still at the house.
