The Cobra circled overhead, picking targets and cutting enemy forces down with its whining turret gun. On the far side of the White House, its twin performed the same grisly task, dodging fire from the ground. As he watched, a point of light emerged from the roof of the White House and streaked across the night sky like a falling star. The Cobra never had a chance. It rained down in pieces on the north side of the White House.
Cooper turned and caught Charlie's attention. Charlie's headset was gone and the left side of his head had been coated in blood and dust. He had a grim set to his face. He nodded at Cooper, pointed at his eyes, then up, holding up four fingers. Four targets on the roof.
Cooper nodded and crouched behind a block of granite facade laying in the parking lot. The usual throbbing in his knee blossomed into a full-blown raging inferno of pain at the simple movement.
Only Jax and Charlie were with him. Where the hell are the rest?
He pointed at himself and raised a finger. He pointed at Charlie and raised two fingers, and three at Jax. Jax and Charlie looked at each other, then turned back to Cooper. Jax shook his head slowly and looked down, his shoulders hunched, gripping his big M60 like he would snap it in two. Charlie shook his head slowly and drew a line across his neck, then flashed four fingers again.
Swede's dead.
Charlie flashed "5" and "6" with his fingers, then shrugged.
Juice and Maughan are MIA.
Cooper leaned his head back against the granite block and closed his eyes. Brenda's dead. Swede's dead. LT's dead. Tank. My team's dead, Mike's in a coma. Atlanta…how many more are we going to lose?
Brenda.
Cooper took a moment to remember Brenda. The way the light in the Underground reflected off of her auburn hair made it shine like bronze. He held tightly to the way her green eyes lit up whenever she saw him.
Anger welled up in Cooper's stomach. All of this—everything—the fall of his country, the deaths of his comrades, the deaths of so many brothers in arms and so many senseless deaths of civilians…all of it the Council's fault. And Barron was a part of it. The men who shot at him right now—the men who caused Swede's death were part of it.
The ringleaders were down in the President's secret Bunker under the White House. He dropped the magazine from his M4 and slapped home a fresh one. Cooper ripped back the charging handle and caught Charlie's eye. It was time to root them out.
Cooper turned his face and peered over the top of his cover. Almost immediately a chunk of granite exploded just left of his face. He pulled back and cursed, surprised he could hear his own voice again.
"If you got smoke, now's the time to pop it," he said.
Cooper's voice sounded distant, as if he were on the other side of a gym. Charlie nodded and pulled a smoke grenade from his kit. Without any fanfare, he pulled the pin and tossed it over the top of Cooper's granite block. He counted down from three, then nodded.
On cue, a thick billowing plume of white smoke roiled over the top of the rubble and enveloped them like a dense fog. Cooper reached up to turn on his night vision and realized his helmet was gone. His gloved hands brushed damp hair. When he pulled his hand back, the dust was streaked with blood. He frowned, then stood and vaulted over the rubble, leading his men into the West Wing.
They rushed through the breach and into the Chief of Staff's office. The blonde—the one from the video where Barron died—it was her office. He immediately turned left upon entering the room and dropped the man in a suit and tie who appeared behind the executive desk.
Charlie rushed over and dropped to a knee, checking for a pulse. Jax moved past Cooper to the door and secured it. Charlie stood and shook his head.
Cooper took up a covering position just left of the breach hole and cued his throat mic. "Cutter Actual, Striker Actual. We have gained access to the target, repeat we've gained access to the target."
General Rykker's voice cut through the screams for reinforcements and EVAC. "Copy that Actual, push forward—don't know how much longer we can hold out. The rogue cells throughout the city are lighting up what's left of our flank. I'm redistributing force allocation to that sector, but I can't guarantee you much more cover. Alpha will breach the East Wing momentarily. You'll have friendlies in the target. Repeat, friendlies in the target."
Cooper nodded, relieved his hearing had returned enough for him to make out what the General had said. He was sure he wasn't up to full speed, but it would have to do. "Copy that, Actual."
Cooper turned to look at Jax. "We good to go?"
Jax nodded. "It's time to get shit done."
Charlie took up position opposite Jax at the door. "On three…two…one, breach!"
Jax pulled the door open and Cooper rushed between the two of them, stepping out into the reception area and turning left. Across the hallway, the nameplate on the door showed the next office belonged to the Deputy Chief of Staff. Cooper waved Jax to the right. The big SEAL kicked in the door to the Presidential Counselor's office and cleared the room.
Charlie then leapfrogged past Cooper and checked the first door on the left. It turned out to be a small storeroom full of electronics gear, but otherwise empty.
"First floor of the East wing secure!" called out Alpha's leader.
Cooper ignored the chatter between General Rykker and another squad of Marines about to breach the front door of the White House. He could tell resistance had faltered and felt confident it would only be a matter of time before they took the entire structure. That also meant time was running out to capture the traitors alive.
They were in the Bunker and it was time to be a tunnel rat. Cooper had been briefed that two elevators led to the President's nuclear shelter and emergency operations center under the White House. One of which was just down the corridor to the left of his current position, according to his dust-covered forearm screen. The other, smaller one, was in the Oval Office.
"Jax, watch that elevator—Charlie with me," Cooper called out.
Jax took a position across the hallway from the elevator and covered the north side of the hallway toward the offices of the National Security Advisor and the Vice President. Someone poked their head out of the Vice President's office and was rewarded with a burst from Jax's M60. A hand appeared and fired a pistol blindly.
Never taking his weapon off target, Jax waited. Charlie and Cooper crouched, watching. When the shooter stepped out into the corridor a moment later, Jax cut him down.
Charlie and Cooper took up positions behind and to the left of Jax, aiming at the elevator. The thick steel door was partially cracked and a thin stream of smoke trickled out at the top. Charlie frowned. "Don't think we're going anywhere in that…"
Cooper moved forward and clicked on his rifle's barrel-mounted flashlight. He aimed down into the gloom of the elevator shaft. Only a few feet below the floor, he saw the top of the elevator covered in debris and wires.
"Contact north!" called out Jax before letting loose with a long string of lead.
Charlie added his rifle to the mix and Cooper brought his own weapon to bear on four Secret Service agents in tactical gear who had exited the National Security Advisor's office. They worked their way south down the corridor toward his fireteam. Cooper ignored the rounds impacting the elevator door behind him and zeroed in on the first man to appear through the hazy smoke. He squeezed the trigger and brought another traitor to his knees with a three-round burst. The agent fell forward and his partner stepped over the body without even blinking.
"Drop your weapons!" called out Charlie
"US Navy SEALs! Drop your weapons!" added Cooper.
The Secret Service agents continued forward, laying down a withering fire.
"Go for the knees!" called Cooper as they scattered for cover. All three SEALs opened up at the same time and two of the three remaining agents screamed in pain and fell to the floor. The last man got tangled up with one of his comrades and fired an errant shot from his pistol. Charlie grunted and dropped to the floor.
/>
Cooper stood and fired a three-round burst into the remaining agent's chest, stitching him from crotch to chin. He hit the ground and didn't move.
"God damn it," screamed Cooper, "drop your fucking weapons!"
"Drop your weapon!" replied one of the wounded, defiant agents. A few poorly aimed rounds spackled the corridor.
Charlie cursed. "Movement, 3 o'clock!"
Cooper spun to the right, down the hallway that led to the Oval Office. Three more tactical-clad agents appeared through the smoke that snaked down the corridor.
"Jax! Cover us!" Cooper said. In one smooth motion, he spun right, facing north down the long hallway toward the wounded agents and sent three-round bursts into them. Behind him, Cooper heard the roar of Jax's M60 as he fired toward the Oval Office.
"Reloading!" Jax called out as he dropped back around the corner. Charlie grunted and rolled until he could bring his own rifle to bear down. "Covering!"
"North clear!" called out Cooper. His stomach rebelled at what he'd just done, but Cooper clenched his jaw shut. The men he'd just killed were traitors. He had to keep telling himself that as he looked at the bodies. A cold sweat broke out over his forehead as he fought to block the searing pain in his leg.
"Ready!" cried Jax as he pulled the charging handle on his machine gun.
Cooper waited three heartbeats, staring into the swirling smoke at the end of the north hallway. He expected more targets to appear, more Americans blinded by their loyalty to a false President. Come on…if you're coming…do it now…
"Clock's ticking, Actual," said Sparky's voice. "I'm seeing movement out here…lots of it. We're fixin' to have company."
When no one appeared through the smoke Cooper keyed his mic. "Get to the Oval Office! Go, go, go!"
He heard movement behind him as Jax disappeared down the east hallway. Charlie got to his feet, holding his arm at an odd angle, but slapped Cooper on the shoulder as he ran past. Sure his men were now safely behind him, Cooper raised his rifle and rolled around the corner himself. Ahead of him, down the hallway toward the Oval Office, Jax had already reached the corner. Cooper followed Charlie past the Roosevelt Room and glanced through the windows. Empty.
"East wing second floor is clear!" reported Alpha team's leader.
"First floor, main building clear!" called out a second voice. "We got 'em on the run, boys!"
"Striker 2-1 encountering resistance in the West Wing. Be advised we are outside the Oval Office, preparing breach," Cooper responded.
"Roger that Striker, Alpha and Bravo will provide support and take care of the second floor."
General Rykker's voice cut in. "All units, we are engaging reinforcements from the south and east. Get to your primary targets. The line will fall back to the White House perimeter. Execute defensive plan Delta!"
Jax kept his focus down the long hallway past the President's Cabinet Room and the White House Communications Office. "Sounds fun."
Charlie glanced at Cooper, his face a mask of pain. "He went to Delta already? That's not good, man," he said through gritted teeth.
Cooper ignored the comment. The Marines were big boys, they could take care of themselves. "You hit?"
Charlie glanced down at his shoulder and half shrugged. "I've had worse."
Cooper nodded. "Jax cover us, we're breaching."
"Copy that," said Jax as he took a knee, peering around the corner. "All clear for the moment, but I don't know how long that'll last. We got a lot of doors down here…and they've got to have an idea what we're doing."
Charlie gripped the doorknob and waited, watching Cooper. Cooper nodded and his XO swung the door open. Cooper rolled a grenade through.
"Frag out!"
Cooper backpedaled and grabbed Charlie's arm, both of them pulling the door shut. They spun away from either side of the door and hit the deck as a muffled boom rattled the hallway. Plaster fell from the ceiling near Jax and smoke curled under the door. Cooper, still on the ground, kicked the door open again and immediately heard screams.
One agent stood, clutching his bloody face in one hand and blindly firing his pistol in the general direction of the door. Cooper shot him once in the left knee and the man went down, losing his weapon.
"One down!"
Charlie stepped over Cooper's prone body and sprayed a burst from his rifle into the iconic office. "Two and three down!" Charlie stepped into the smoke and turned right, toward the President's study.
Cooper painfully got to his knees and noticed his knee brace was broken. A sharp pain dug into his right thigh. He cursed and ignored it, limping into the office looking for the last man. He scanned around, rifle at his shoulder but still only counted three bodies.
"Three," he whispered. "Where's the fourth one?"
Further to the right, Charlie turned around. "I got three…"
Cooper and Charlie turned their attention to the large famous desk at the far side of the room. Cooper pointed down. Charlie nodded and moved right while Cooper worked his way left over the bodies of the other agents. He winced as his right foot slipped on the blood-soaked carpet, torquing his knee. He'd have to check his injury later—for now, he had one more agent to dispatch.
His headset echoed with Marines calling out shots and orders. Cooper angrily ripped the bone phone from his ear—now was not the time to be distracted. He caught Charlie's eye through the smoky gloom and nodded.
Cooper crouched by the floor, his leg on fire, and covered the left side of the desk. Charlie kicked the right side of the desk and crouched. As Charlie contacted the desk, the last Secret Service agent stood behind the desk and fired where Charlie had been. Before the man got a second shot off, Cooper put three into the back of his helmeted head. The man fell forward on the President's desk, his blood painted on the far curved wall.
He put the bone phone back in his ear. "Cutter Actual, Striker 2-1 has secured the Oval Office. Oval Office is secure."
"Nice work, Striker. The rest of the White House is locked down—I'm sending in two extra squads to help with cleanup. The rest of the defenders are surrendering but the reinforcements keep coming. Be advised we are falling back on your position. Best pick up the pace."
"We gotta secure that elevator," Cooper said.
"You boys better get with the securing then," replied Jax from the corridor. "I got a large group of foot mobiles at the far end of the hallway. They haven't spotted me yet, but they're working their way through the rooms."
"Friendlies?" asked Charlie, rummaging through his pack.
"Negative, no IR markers with night vision."
Charlie cursed. "It's gotta be the last of the defenders—they know about this elevator. Think they can beat us to the Bunker."
"Cutter Actual, Striker Actual. We have a large group of enemy foot mobiles approaching our position. Request immediate assistance!"
"Actual copies all, Striker—I'm sending Alpha and Bravo to you. Whatever you do, hold that elevator!"
"Roger that," replied Cooper.
"Coop, the desk! Help me," called out Charlie.
Cooper turned to see Charlie had dropped his weapon and was trying to lift the corner of the President's desk. Cooper let his rifle hang by its tactical sling and went to the other side of the massive slab of a desk.
"On three," he said. "One, two, three!" Both men strained, and the desk tilted forward and slammed on its face, creating an effective barrier. "It won't stop Jax's M 60," Cooper grunted. "But I think it'll do until the Marines get here." He pulled his rifle up and crouched, wincing in pain. "Jax! Fall back, reinforcements are on the way."
"Moving," was the terse response. Jax threw himself into the Oval Office and slammed the bullet riddled door behind him as gunfire exploded down the north hallway. Holes appeared in the wall and door as Jax rushed around the desk and took a position between Cooper and Charlie. "I think they know we're here…" Jax said with a grin.
Cooper spotted lights and shadows in the corridor through the bullet holes. "How
many?" he whispered.
"I spotted at least seven…" replied Jax, propping the barrel of his M60 on the upturned desk.
"Down to two mags," reported Charlie.
Cooper checked his own ammunition. He switched out the half empty magazine from his M4 and slipped it into a pouch on his vest. He slapped home a fresh one. "I got one."
A voice shouted something indistinct out of the hallway. "…surrender!"
Cooper stretched his hearing, trying to pinpoint where the speaker was. As trained Secret Service agents, he knew they wouldn't be stupid enough to stand right on the other side of the door. "Left or right?" he whispered.
"Left…I think," said Charlie.
"Left," said Jax.
"Striker One, Alpha team is inbound, 30 seconds."
The voice in the hallway piped up. "I said, throw down your weapons and surrender! We have you surrounded!"
"Light 'em up," said Cooper in a calm voice. Charlie put three-round bursts to the left of the door at the same time Jax redecorated the Oval Office with a hot stream of 7.62mm rounds. Hedging his bets, Cooper turned his barrel right and put three-round bursts through the wall.
"Alpha team engaging!" called out the Marine detachment leader in Cooper's headset. The gunfight noise tripled in volume. The Marines had caught the Secret Service agents from behind—it was over in seconds.
"Cease-fire, cease-fire, cease fire!" called out a new voice over Cooper's headset. "Striker 2-1, hallway is secure."
Cooper looked at Jax and Charlie. Charlie shook his head slightly. "Oval Office is secure, Alpha, come on in."
All three SEALs aimed at the door on the off chance it was a trap. The shredded portal opened and a camo-clad Marine moved in with his rifle in at the low-ready. Cooper saw at least six other Marines in the hallway taking up defensive positions. The SEALs pointed their weapons at the ceiling and stood behind the desk.
Firestorm: Book III of the Wildfire Saga Page 19
