"Wait," hissed the black avenger, placing his thumb on the fob button. The first Mutant had got to within three metres of the Fort Warwick leader, the others were several metres apart and would arrive individually which was not ideal for The Preacher. He wasn't even sure if Boardman’s efforts would work but now was the time to find out. He pressed the button.
Bruger watched the craft hover, he guessed they had run out of ammunition. He watched as the side window opened and saw an arm extend towards him. He frowned as he took in the sight of what looked like a fob pointing past him. Glancing behind, he saw the first of his Mutant guards pounding towards him, then in that instant he was blown off his feet as his guard’s head exploded in a blinding orange flash of light. Despite the damage he had done to his own brain over the years, with the substances he had pumped into himself, as his back hit the tarmac, knocking the breath out of his lungs, he knew instinctively that this was Boardman’s work. In a split second of clarity, he pieced together details that had not made sense before this moment of illumination. The fob had to be the one he had seen when The Preacher was caught. Boardman had prepared his Mutant guards and probably wanted some insurance by turning his bodyguards into walking bombs. Sitting up, he still had the Glock in his hand, lifting it he placed three shots into the chest of one of his Mutant guards as he got to within six or seven metres.
The Preacher pressed the fob anyway even though he knew the Mutant was too far from Bruger. The Mutant had dropped to its knees, the damage to its chest caused by the three shells critical, it's head exploding in a bright flash saved him worrying about his wounds but the blast was well short of Bruger who was already on his feet and on the run once more, but he was tiring and his two faithful guards were gaining on him.
"What the hell just happened?” blustered Hog, sliding the Apache alongside Bruger, two more shots skidded off the helicopter as Bruger’s Glock found them easily.
"We have to slow him down," responded The Preacher. "Boardman placed plastic explosives in the Mutant’s earpiece but the killing zone is ten feet.”
"I take it that fob is the detonator?" offered Bryan.
"You got it," responded the frustrated Preacher as Hog tried to herd Bruger to a halt.
A heavy burst of automatic fire suddenly skidded around the Apache as Blade came roaring down the road towards them. Hog immediately banked away and lifted the craft vertically away from the firestorm. "Time’s up Preacher," warned the Angel.
Blade skidded to a halt and jumped from the Beast. Running to the back he pulled open the door and yanked out a 9K32 Strela-2 rocket launcher, turning quickly he swung it up onto his shoulder.
Bruger knew the Russian launcher was heat seeking and would chase down the Apache. "Bring it down," yelled the Warwick Leader to his second-in-command. The crazed man watched in disbelief as his enforcer let the launcher slip off his shoulder to hang down at his side, staring blankly after the escaping Apache.
"What the hell are you doing Blade?" growled the furious Warwick leader, running at his enforcer.
Blade saw the black line in the skies at the same moment he fixed his sights on the launcher towards the Apache. It sparked a faded memory as if plucked from a long ago dream but that memory turned into a nightmare. The Stealth bomber took shape and form as it banked, showing in full detail the iconic shape as it roared across them in a blur of speed.
Bruger stopped in his tracks and spun around, his gaze fixed on the jet black aircraft carving across the sky.
"Not again," cried Hog as the Stealth thundered past.
"We're running on vapour," warned Bryan, checking the read out.
"It's making a run," warned The Preacher, craning his neck to see the Stealth.
Hog swung the craft south towards City Airport, not wanting to be anywhere near the Stealth if it was going to deliver the same cargo he had seen devour the Destroyer, it was time to join Anderson.
The Stealth began dropping its barrels a thousand metres out from Bruger’s massed army, the wide swathe of a firestorm extending half a kilometre wide and nearly two kilometres long. The pilot had placed the inferno well noting on his flyover that the force was far larger than he had anticipated and so widely spread that his only option was to cut off the head of the column. This was where he assumed the leader known as Bruger would be positioned and he wanted him cut off from the bulk of his troops. His mission to strike at Bruger’s forces took all of two minutes and as he pulled away into the skies heading for the coast and America he left a fiery carnage behind him.
Blade positioned himself, safety first on his mind, slightly back from Bruger who stood looking at the wall of flame two kilometres wide a hundred metres from them. The Warwick leader was visibly shaking as he took in the devastation caused by the Stealth, the screams from the burning troopers clear even above the roaring sound as the napalm devoured everything it touched. Neither he nor Blade could make out through the wall of flame how much of their army was still intact and Bruger had no intention of waiting for the inferno to die down to find out. He had his Mutant army of 200 and several thousand troops along with hardware to take out Anderson camped at City airport with the child. Everything else could wait, everything else, including ‘Vanquish’, paled against his hatred of the Fort London Leader. “We’re moving out," snapped Bruger, turning to his enforcer. As his two remaining Mutant guards closed on him, he pulled out his Glock and shot each through the temple. "Anderson and the child will die this very day," he muttered to himself, striding towards the Beast.
Hog wrestled the coughing Apache down inside the City airport fence line hitting the ground with a jarring thump as the last dregs of fuel was devoured by the Rolls Royce turbo engines.
Anderson and Bull jogged over to help Bryan and The Preacher extricate themselves from the tight space at the back of the craft.
"You responsible for that fireworks display north of here Hog?" asked Bull as the Angel leader clambered down from the now silent aircraft.
"I wish," chuckled the Angel leader.
"I'm guessing it had something to do with that Stealth," cut in Anderson.
"You would be right Craig Anderson," filled in The Preacher, finally escaping the cramped aircraft.
Anderson took The Preacher’s offered hand. "Glad you made it Preacher," beamed the SAS man with genuine warmth.
"You have Hog and Bryan to thank for that," replied his friend in his deep rumbling tone.
"As you can see," he indicated with a swing of his arms at the battles going on at the fences, “We need all the help we can get.”
"Hog has informed me that we await aircraft from America?” questioned the man of God.
Anderson shook his head. "They are way overdue my friend, it was a long shot and in all honesty I was surprised to see the Stealth.”
"There was a second one," informed The Preacher. "It took out the Destroyer that sank the cruise ship."
"Not before it launched a nuclear missile," reminded Hog. "The last I saw it was heading east towards the English Channel and Holland.”
"It might not detonate," suggested Bryan.
"The way this day is going I wouldn't bank on it," snapped Bull.
"We can't worry about that now," cut in Anderson. "What happened to Bruger?”
"Unless he has been caught in that firestorm...... he will come," warned The Preacher, looking north.
Each man followed his gaze and for several seconds they were silent.
Chapter 36
"Cap we can't hold the perimeter"
Anderson looked yet again to the skies east, hoping beyond hope that the Galaxys would come but in truth, deep inside his heart he had given up. There would be no escape from this place, all of the battles to survive, all of the hopes they had built around finding a cure to the plague with the discovery of the child, Hope, would all turn to ashes. This final stronghold, they had fought so hard to contain, would become a graveyard, a graveyard to them all so the thought of Bruger registered lower than it had on
the Richter scale of his concern.
"Breach," came a desperate shout from far down the fence line. They all ran to plug yet another gap but the Pure were flagging. A fatal break-in was imminent.
#
Bruger’s force came down every artery street leading onto Victoria Dock Road and the A1020 on the north of the Airport. On this fence line, for whatever reason, there were few WDs and Mutants unlike the south fence 500 metres away where he could clearly see a swarm of several hundred thousand clamouring at the wire. His strategy would be to smash through the airport perimeter set up along the A1020, sweep across the Connaught Bridge and hit Anderson and his struggling force from behind. Once he spotted the Fort London SAS leader he would lose his army of Mutants to feed on his nemesis along with the child he protected. Pure, dead or alive, would be quickly loaded into the meat wagons before the creatures at the southern fence line inevitably poured through the airport. Then he would pull back to his main army to re-group and continue with Vanquish. "Blow the fence Blade,” he ordered, pulling on the head set that would link him directly to his 200 Mutants. "Prepare," he snapped, causing 200 hungry creatures to howl in anticipation as their ear pieces brought their master’s voice with the command that always preceded feeding.
#
Three Mutants scrambled over the top of the high fence twenty metres to Anderson’s left. Bull, Pump, Hog and his Angels along with Bryan were running up and down the fence line along with his regular SAS troops urging the remaining populace from Fort London to hold the line. Anderson broke away, sprinting after them, racing away towards the building where Hope, Andrew and Saphire had been told to stay by the SAS man. He never paused as Spider’s voice came into his ear piece.
"Cap, Bruger is massing along the Northern perimeter. Looks like he is planning a break in."
"If you can spot him, take out," ordered Anderson, closing on the Mutants.
"Out of ammo Cap, shall I........." Spider stopped in mid-sentence as the thunder of round after round of heavy artillery rolled across from the Northern perimeter. “He’s in Cap.”
Anderson heard the artillery but his immediate concern was for Hope. As the Mutants got within ten metres of the building, Andrew, who had been watching through the window, burst out of the door with a length of pipe raised high over his shoulder. He hit the first Mutant a vicious swipe across the throat, the creature's run was stopped as if it had hit a brick wall, the rabid creature dead before it dropped to the floor. Anderson caught up with the second one, clipped the back of its heel sending it sprawling forward onto the concrete. As it howled in anger and scrabbled to get to its feet Anderson dropped his full weight onto its back, gripped its head and gave a savage twist snapping its neck. Mutant three reached the door and ran in but was blown back out as Saphire gave it both barrels of a shotgun she had acquired somewhere. "Use the doorbell next time," she yelled, stepping out and staring down at the corpse.
Anderson ran past her, plucked Hope from under the table she was hiding under and ran back out with the distraught child clutched to his chest. "With me," he snapped to the Angel and Andrew, he knew the airport was at best minutes from falling and he wanted Hope with him.
"Cap we can't hold the perimeter," shouted Bull, swinging the bloodied baseball bat at a screaming woman closing on him, the blow striking the lower shin, snapping it cleanly, dropping her face forward to the floor. The Preacher moved in and drove a length of reinforcing bar through the base of the woman’s neck bringing her thrashing to an immediate halt.
The Preacher and Bull ran back to the fence line, it was now rocking alarmingly in at least a dozen places and WDs and Mutants were sliding over the top. In numerous places the razor wire tearing open horrific wounds that neither slowed nor deterred the creatures intent on reaching the Pure inside whose flesh was driving them crazy.
Anderson ran to join them. Hope, clearly distraught clung tightly to his neck, her face buried into his shoulder. Saphire and Andrew were close on his heels.
"Cap, you've got hell on earth coming your way," shouted Spider. "Bruger's sent in a pack of Mutants through the north fence, got to be a couple of hundred or more."
"How long?”
"Two or three minutes. I'm coming down to join you and....."Spider paused, "Cap I've just seen Tom running towards the north perimeter."
"Tom, what the hell are you doing?" demanded Anderson, prising Hope from him and passing her to The Preacher.
"Buying some time Craig," gasped Tom. "Keep the southern perimeter, I'll take care of Bruger’s pack of dogs.”
"We need more than time Tom," responded the SAS man, exhaustion taking its toll." We need a miracle."
"You have it," came the deep rich tones of The Preacher, pointing east. "A second sign," he whispered under his breath.
Every man turned, every man saw what he had. Four tiny black dots like a formation of full stops moving through the summer blue sky.
#
"Feed," barked Bruger as his 200 Mutants poured through the gaps blown in the perimeter fence. "On me," he yelled to his other troops as Blade drove through one of the gaps created in the wire in the FV Bulldog. Behind came a column of armoured vehicles that was like a British Army brochure of fighting machines. There were two Wolfhounds, a Panther, three Foxhounds, a Ridgeback and a pick and mix of troop carriers and Land Rovers. Bruger’s eyes were ablaze as he followed his pets, raging like a pack across the Connaught Bridge that would take them directly into the airport. The Warwick Leader’s brain was corrupted by a fog created by his designer drugs and revenge, it was a lethal cocktail that fostered poor choices. This was one of them but nothing, absolutely nothing would deter him, or so he thought.
#
Tom knew he had to do something the second he heard the warning from Spider. Grabbing his pack he sprinted for all he was worth, knowing he had only minutes to reach his goal. He knew if Bruger’s Mutants were allowed to attack from their rear then their struggle would be over and they would be overrun. He had made a point of checking the perimeter right around and he knew that the only way in from the north was over the Connaught Bridge, he had also noted that there were a number of industrial propane tanks close to the airport side of the bridge. These were his target.
#
"This is Stealth Three, I require the confirmation code for launch of the cargo." Stealth Three was on schedule, he had not heard from the Galaxys or from base on the flight over but he knew that the Galaxys should have loaded by now and be on their return journey to the States.
"This is President Nelson, Stealth Three," responded Nelson who had insisted that it would be him personally that gave the final drop instruction, no one else should have to carry the burden of releasing such an awesome weapon. "Your launch code is XB6259X, please confirm."
"Drop code is confirmed," responded Stealth Three.
"What is your position?”
"I am twenty minutes from the target zone of Sheffield, may I ask about the success of the rescue mission Sir?”
There was an awkward silence. "Please focus on your mission Stealth Three.”
"Affirmative Sir. Going dark on radio until after drop, Stealth Three out.”
"God help them," whispered Nelson.
#
Tom made the run in one minute forty seconds. Yanking the back pack off he pulled out the magnetic unit he had prepared and slapped it onto the huge gas container. Turning immediately he ran thirty metres and dropped into an open storm drain he had spotted on the way to the tank. He quickly pulled out the remote detonator and peaked out over the top of the drain. Fifty metres beyond the tank he could see Bruger’s Mutant army coming like a pack of wolves, the scent of flesh driving them crazy. Beyond the pack he could see Bruger at the head of a following column, his torso jutting out from the front hatch of the Bulldog like a conquering general entering a fallen city.
"Come on," hissed Tom. "Just another ten metres....... Ok," he yelled, pressing the detonator. "Share this out."
The soun
d of the explosion was like a thousand claps of thunder squeezed into one, the ground shaking as the pressure from the ignition bounced off the earth and shot outwards taking with it the ignited gas engulfing everything in a fifty metre radius in a boiling raging firestorm of orange and reds. The tightly packed Mutants took the full blast as they came level with the tank. Many of the creatures had the flesh stripped from their bones as the heat blast reached well over three thousand degrees centigrade, a few came stumbling out of the firewall with their clothes and hair on fire, stumbled a few feet and then collapsed into heaps of smouldering corpses. Tom climbed out of the drain as three Mutants, usually so swift, staggered forward, their clothes still smouldering, what was left of their facial features blackened and split. Tom drew his Glock side-arm and placed a round into each, dropping the creatures to the floor. Beyond the flames he could hear Bruger in an out of control rage, his screaming threats covering many people but mainly Craig Anderson. Turning before he was spotted, he sprinted back towards the southern fence line. As he ran he looked right and saw something that lifted his spirits, four Galaxy aircrafts in the clear sky on their final approach.
"Hog, gather all of your people and make sure the Pure on the fences don't turn and run when they see the Galaxys, Bull and Pump you drop in with them to stop a stampede. Preacher I need you to stay with Hope and make sure she and Andrew get onto one of the planes.”
"Cap, this is Spider," came the guardian angel’s voice through his ear piece.
"Go ahead Spider.”
"Would it be a daft question to ask if you've seen those four Galaxys coming in from the west?”
Before Anderson could confirm Spider’s supposition, the reverberation of a massive explosion filled the air to mix with the sounds of the creatures at the fence, the screams of terror from the Pure and the growing roar of four giant Galaxys. "What the hell was that Spider?"
The team's sniper brought up his Leopold Scope and checked the site of the explosion. "You son of a bitch," hissed Spider.
Bravo Two Zombie (Book 3): The Final Solution Page 30
