“How long have you known about this?” Tom demanded.
“The boss told me when he called in the change of plans,” Ron stated defensively.
“There’s a new pickup coming up behind us fast and a couple of cars behind that,” Mike informed the team.
“The small center panel slides. Open it and take a few shots. Try to make them think twice about moving up,” Ron said. He then called out to the chopper pilot, “Sometime today, guardian angel!”
“I’m moving over the target area now and so far…Oh boy, behind the building on the right they have a tank. Can’t tell the make or model, but it doesn’t look more than fifty years old. On the left, a couple dozen meters behind the building, I count six, no, eight men dug in with three rocket launchers getting ready to light you up,” Guardian Angel informed them.
“Take it out, take it out!” Tom shouted.
“Roger, lining up to take the shot,” Nate replied.
A large plume of dirt and rocks unexpectedly exploded to their left. “Shit, the tank’s trying to zero in,” Ron yelled and quickly gunned the engine, racing forward.
“How’s Steve?’ Tom asked.
“Steve’s unconscious! He’s lost a lot blood, and he’s getting the shit knocked out of him back here!” Mike called out. “We’ve also got lots of company coming up behind us. Additional company is circling around on the left in what appears to be an attempt to join the welcoming committee up front.”
“We’re headed in. Take out that tank!” Ron called out over the comlink.
“They’ve got rockets on the left. Rockets on the left!” the chopper pilot called out.
“Can you take them out with your machine guns?” Tom asked Ron.
“I can’t reach them from here. I won’t have a chance to fire until we’re past the building hiding the tank, and by then we’ll be right in the center of their field of fire.” Once more, thirty caliber rounds began pinging off the SUV as the Brigade closed in on them, forcing their forward movement. Mike returned the favor firing at the oncoming vehicles with his sniper rifle taking out the two gunners on the pickups.
“Pam, any gas left in the drone?” Ron asked hopefully as he started to procrastinate by slowing their advance instead of racing all out.
“Negative!” Pam yelled as another rocket propelled grenade exploded near the rear wheel on the passenger side. Ron plunged the gas pedal to the metal and got the SUV racing along once more. Mike quickly gave their pursuers something to think about by refocusing his aim and firing three quick shots.
“That’s enough of that for a while. I think they’ll keep their heads down until we make a move or they get more reinforcements,” Mike called out.
“Let us know if that happens,” Tom called back to him as a streak of white slammed into the ground next to the driver’s door courtesy of the group of vehicles circling around to the left. The SUV rocked heavily to the right, almost tipping over before slamming back down, leaving everyone dazed for a moment.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The first rocket attack on the tank didn’t quite work as planned. The tactical rocket fired at the tank by the chopper simply bounced off the heavy armor and ricocheted through a window opening in the building. It impacted on the front wall of the building, collapsing part of the two-story structure and creating a huge cloud of dust, but it didn’t hamper the tank’s operation.
Before the chopper pilot could fire a second rocket, he came under small arms fire from the roof of the building across the road. He was forced to take immediate evasive action. He made a sharp move to his left, quickly pulling up and away while putting the building between himself and his attackers.
Despite the attack on the tank, the men launching the rockets fired a second time at the SUV. Luckily, Ron saw it coming and jammed his foot down on the accelerator, then swerved to his right at the last second. The maneuver saved the team as the rocket blew past them and exploded twenty meters behind them. Shrapnel peppered the SUV causing the windows on the vehicle’s left side to develop spider-webbing, but the shrapnel failed to puncture them.
Pam, realizing there wasn’t any other choice, swung the drone around on her own accord and drove it forward at full speed, sixty knots, in the direction of the rocket launchers.
Just as the men were about fire a third rocket, the drone slammed into the row of rocket launchers from the left and exploded. The explosion took out all three rocket launchers, sparking a series of huge explosions and blinding white flashes. A bright yellow fireball leapt into the sky, where it lit up the entire area for several seconds sending out a shockwave that slammed into the chopper, two hundred meters away. The turbulence forced the chopper pilot to struggle to maintain control and delay the firing of the second tank buster missile.
The brilliance of the blast caused the tank’s gunner to see spots and turn away from the gunsight momentarily. The blast unintentionally provided the time needed for Ron to race the SUV past the tank.
Upon recovering from the blast’s shock wave, a few moments later, the chopper pilot fired his second rocket. This time though, after having seen what happened with the last rocket, he targeted the building instead of the tank. The rocket plowed into the cinderblock wall blasting a huge hole in the structure, destabilizing the whole building. The rear wall, after wavering briefly, collapsed on top of the tank. It didn’t damage or disable the tank but took it out of the fight by trapping it in the rubble. The debris left it unable to move and unable to rotate its turret.
Remembering the men on the opposite building’s roof, the chopper pilot immediately turned his attention on the building, strafing the roof with his machine guns. After several seconds, the chopper was forced to pull away to evade small arms fire once again.
The team’s SUV raced up and past the two buildings drawing plenty of small arms fire from the building on the left and the surrounding fields. Unbeknownst to the team, in addition to the small arms, the men on the roof of the second building also possessed RPGs. Two of the men took aim as the SUV passed and then fired in concert.
Just as the RPGs streaked away, the chopper fired a rocket. It was a fraction of a second too late to stop the attack. The rocket destroyed the building, killing the men in it. The RPGs landed on opposite sides of the SUV as it passed the flame-filled trench where the rocket launchers had been. Exploding simultaneously, they crushed the SUV in the dueling shockwaves.
Inside the SUV, the team was slammed about as if they were pinballs in a pinball machine set on permanent tilt. The windows that had been previously spider-webbed blew inward, showering the team with bits of cubed safety glass, dirt and rocks. The two side windows that remained were now densely spider-webbed.
Though no one was seriously hurt, everyone received numerous small cuts and scrapes to their faces, arms and hands from the flying debris. The rear tires on both sides of the vehicle should have been destroyed by the blasts but true to their advertising hype, they withstood the peppering by shrapnel and debris, quickly filling the newly created holes and gashes with the nitrogen-based foam.
“What was that?” Tom called out as he looked over his shoulder out the back of the SUV at the pit of flames that had been the site of the rocket launchers moments before.
“Don’t know, boss,” yelled Mike from the rear.
“How expensive was that drone? And did you really tell them you’d bring it back in one piece?” Pam asked.
“What? That was the drone?” Ron screamed. He purposely kept his face turned forward to hide his grin from Pam.
“When that rocket practically fried us back there, my hand jumped, and the next thing I knew, the drone flew right into the launchers,” Pam explained.
“Shit! Now, I’m going to have to marry the Turk’s daughter!” Ron exclaimed, still grinning. Tom and Alex both nervously chuckled.
“The Turk’s daughter? What?” was all Pam could say before more small arms fire once more started thudding and pinging off the SUV. Everyone stopped tal
king and tried to sink a little lower in their seats as Ron tried willing the SUV to go faster.
“Mister Disney, can I have my money back now?” Steve called out, having regained consciousness momentarily.
“Hold on, buddy. We’re almost there, I think,” Mike replied. The rest of the team smiled knowing that if he was able to chide Mr. Disney about his terrible trip, Steve would live.
“Give me a sitrep, guys. How are you holding up?” the chopper pilot called over the comlink.
“A bit battered and bruised but we’re still hanging in there. You?” Ron replied.
“I’m running low on ordnance and fuel. It’s going to become an issue real soon. Can you handle it while I get reloaded?”
“Do we have a choice? How long will it take?” Ron asked.
“If my dealer meets me halfway and we don’t have any issues, we’re looking at maybe twenty minutes,” the chopper pilot informed him.
“Okay, it’s better you do it now and meet up with us at Bardale as fast as you can. We should be able to make it there on our own,” Ron informed him.
“Roger that. I’ll try to say hello to any party crashers trying to sneak up behind you on my way out,” the chopper pilot stated as he broke away and headed back northeast, while each team member silently prayed that the twenty minutes was an over-estimation.
“Thanks and hurry back. We need all the help we can get,” Ron replied, signing off.
Two kilometers behind the SUV, the Martyrs Brigade was amassing their forces on the fly, trying to keep up the pressure on the team. Nate, the chopper pilot, was true to his word. He did his best to slow the attackers down by making two strafing passes, but he was forced to break off his attack due to the low fuel levels. His efforts eliminated several vehicles from the chase and slowed the Brigade’s pursuit considerably.
Racing down a dirt track leading to Bardale, Ron kept weaving from side to side across the road, dodging the occasional pockets of attackers using small arms. The exterior of the SUV quickly started to look like a mobile map of the moon, but it held together keeping the team protected behind its heavy armor and what was left of the Lexan windows. Several times, Ron had to brake hard and turn sharply in order to dodge an errant RPG, which would pepper the SUV with debris as they passed. It was only by the grace of God they had not taken any direct hits by RPGs.
“We’re almost to Bardale,” Ron called out. It had been fifteen minutes, and the whole team was getting a bit nervous knowing the chopper was at least five minutes away, still.
“Once we’re through the center of town, we’ll hang a hard right and run to the border. When we get within sight of the border, the Brigade should fall back. Then, it’s just a matter of me talking our way through the checkpoint. In the glove box you’ll find IDs for everyone, Tom, including asswipe back there. Be sure to pull his hood off before we get there. If you don’t, it might draw the border guard’s attention to the fact that something isn’t quite kosher,” Ron instructed the team.
“Mike, you’ll need to cover Steve and act like you’re leaning on some boxes. You’ll find the blankets and wire framing in the left hand panel, behind Alex’s seat. If you do it right, Steve will look like boxes of computer stuff, provided they don’t look too close.”
“We’ve got more company!” Mike interjected. “They came off a side road, and they are right behind us!”
Ron swerved to the left and then quickly back to the right as the new threat fired a small rocket at them. Luckily, it glanced off the driver’s side of the SUV as Ron swerved away. The explosion burned the paint off the side of the SUV and blew off the side view mirror next to Ron but failed to impede the vehicle’s progress.
Shards of flying debris covered both Alex and Ron, and the shockwave left them dazed. Ron managed to trigger the rear-facing Gatling gun before losing consciousness, and the VW van trailing them quickly took on the look of Swiss cheese. The van rolled to a stop almost immediately due to the damage caused by the Gatling gun and blocked the roadway which would require several minutes to clear.
With Ron unconscious, his foot slipped from the gas, and immediately the SUV began slowing down. Chaos erupted within the Suburban. Pam scrambled over Ashrawl and began wiping blood from Alex’s face using one of Ashrawl’s shirt sleeves, and Tom grabbed the steering wheel while calling out to Ron to try access his fitness.
“How bad are you hit?” Pam asked Alex.
Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, Alex took a quick inventory by patting his arms and shoulders.
“Lots of small cuts but nothing major,” he replied.
Tom, trying to rouse Ron, shouted, “Ron! Ron! Talk to me.”
Pam continued to work on Alex as Mike began shifting first aid supplies from the med kit onto the seat next to Pam.
“Time to let me drive,” Tom stated and began pulling Ron out from behind the wheel as he climbed over him to take his place. As he slipped past Ron, Tom couldn’t help but notice that he had large head wound that was bleeding profusely.
Once Alex had been cleaned up, he helped Pam shove Ashrawl over as far as they could to the passenger side of the vehicle. Then Pam was able to slide into the middle of the back seat and lean over it to attend to Ron. She helped Tom finish shoving Ron’s unconscious body into the passenger seat and immediately began trying to stop the bleeding, while Tom jammed the gas pedal to the floor once more.
The hair and scalp on the left side of Ron’s head had been peeled back about five inches, and he was bleeding profusely. Pam gingerly flipped the flap back down and placed a thick gauze pad over it. Then she applied pressure to stem the blood flow. She had to change the wound pad several times in quick succession in order to slow the bleeding, tossing the bloody pads out of the shattered window each time. After several minutes, the blood was slowed enough to wrap gauze around Ron’s head to hold the wound pad in place. When she was done it looked as though Ron was wearing a sloppy turban. Despite having received numerous cuts and scrapes to their faces from flying debris, neither Ron nor Alex had suffered any eye injuries, because they had kept their NV goggles on to provide protection for just such incidents.
A short time after Pam had finished dressing Ron’s wound, he regained consciousness. “I guess it couldn’t last forever, but she held together for quite a while,” Ron mumbled, startling both Tom and Pam who weren’t sure how bad his injuries actually were.
“We ain’t dead yet,” Tom replied.
“Don’t slow down, they’ll be on us like white on rice. We’ve got to hold together until we can get the choppers in to pull us out or we reach the border,” Ron stated in a clear voice, belying the pain he was experiencing. Tom glanced at Pam who tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, not sure how he was holding on.
“Guardian Angel, Guardian Angel, are you still out there?” Tom called out remembering they had chopper support.
“Roger, I’m still here,” Nate, the pilot, replied.
“What’s your ETA? We’ve taken a couple of hard hits and are in need of evacuation.”
“That’s a negative on the evacuation, Archangel. The transport took heavy fire escaping from our rendezvous. Seems the Syrians don’t appreciate our use of their airspace. I should be in range to provide more help in less than ten minutes.”
“Were you able to get reloaded and refueled?” Tom asked.
“That’s a negative. I’ve only got a three quarter load of fuel and only half the ordnance,” Nate shared with Tom.
“Okay, we’re coming into Bardale which is likely to be extremely hot. We’re pretty beat up. Can we get you to plow the road for us?” Tom asked.
“I’ll do all I can to clear the way. Can you wait until I arrive?” the pilot asked.
“That’s a negative. Our forward progress is being hastened by party crashers,” Tom explained.
“Roger that. I’ll kick it into high gear. I think I can cut two or three minutes off my ETA if I run flat out.”
“Anything you can do will be g
reatly appreciated,” Tom replied and turned to Ron. “Okay, stay with me, Ron. I don’t know where I’m going.”
Suddenly, another round of small arms fire peppered the SUV as yet another pair of vehicles closed in on them from behind.
“The hell with this!” Pam shouted.
Pam grabbed her MP10 and leaned out the passenger side window over top of Ashrawl and sprayed the vehicles trailing behind them with a couple of quick bursts. She then quickly ducked back inside to avoid being hit by their return fire.
Mike slid the firing port in the rear window open again and did his best to line up the driver of the pickup closest to them. He fired three shots but wasn’t sure if he hit the mark until the vehicle slid off to the right and stopped. Through his night vision goggles, he saw the driver’s body shoved out of the door and the truck come roaring back into the race.
Tom took a savage right turn following the signs directing them to the border and didn’t bother decelerating upon entering Bardale. Tom almost lost control of the SUV making the right turn causing it to tilt up on two wheels before righting itself. Immediately, Tom jammed the gas to floor, the engine red-lined, and the SUV roared off into the town ahead.
At least two Brigade pickup trucks followed his move. The pickup trailing them the closest tried to match the pace and sharp turn of the SUV but swung too wide and clipped a parked car in the narrow street. Flipping on its side, it blocked the way for the rest of the vehicles behind it. This gave the team some breathing room, while their attackers sought ways around the wreckage.
Speeding through town, Tom turned to Ron to ask for instructions only to find he had passed out. “Where to?” Tom called out to anyone who might answer.
“Give me the laptop!” Pam directed Alex as she let go of Ron, gently leaning him against the door. Alex fished around and found the laptop on the floor under Tom’s seat.
“I’m surprised he made it this far. He’s pretty torn up,” Pam told Tom about Ron as she snatched the laptop from Alex.
Reprisal!- The Gauntlet Page 17
