by Jim Roberts
All that being said, things had gone fairly well up until the jump.
Parachute jumping into a city was an insane proposition, even with advanced technology and knowledge of the landing area. Jumping at night was near suicidal. They were entering a city they didn't know and anything could happen once on the ground.
God I love this job, Brick had told himself as he stood at the door of the airplane. Once they had made the leap, the Brit pulled his chute and began the descent into the city below−
Had it not been for a brutal wind shear blowing them a klick off target, things would be perfect. Now, rather than being in the relative safe zone of the southern district of the city, they were clambering through the bombed out ruins of downtown Sadoma.
Clad head to toe in night operations gear, the two men had so far remained invisible.
It hadn't been too hard. Pretty much the entire downtown area of the city was deserted. It had become an odd neutral zone in the conflict between the URAF rebels to the south and the ANDU forces−backed up by Olympus−to the north. So far, during the four hours they had been scrambling through the debris laden streets, they hadn't seen a soul.
Even at nighttime, wars didn't take breaks. They should have run across someone by now.
The whole situation bothered Brick immensely.
During their briefing with the Colonel before leaving for this charming slice of heaven, they had learned that nearly three quarters of the city's population had evacuated. Swarms of refugees were surging into Mozambique to the north and South Africa to the south. The fighting in the city had reached a fever pitch, with reports of extreme devastation being caused by Olympus in the contested downtown area. So far, the PMC was unable to breach its way into the southern section.
One more African war story to add to the history books.
Brick, himself descended from Rwandan grandparents, felt little kinship with this continent. He had been here several times with the SAS, serving in small-scale rescue missions in Egypt, Chad and the Democratic Republic of Congo. Back in 2011, during the military intervention of Libya, Reynolds had assisted in the training and commanding of French and Qatari opposition forces to the madman Muammar Gaddafi.
Now he was in another African country, searching down information on another African warlord.
The cyclical nature of war.
Brick steadied his grip on his own Heckler and Koch UMP9. The German submachine gun was fitted with a foot long suppressor, giving the Sergeant a perfect low-key weapon for this stealth mission. The 9x19mm Parabellum cartridge the gun fired−while light−helped reduce kick back and gave the edge of accuracy during a fire fight; something the veteran British trooper wanted for this stealth mission. Slung on his back was his backup; a FN FAL 7.62mm NATO assault rifle. A classic workhorse of the British army, the gun was powerful and accurate−a favorite of Brick's since he'd joined the service.
Krieger, following closely behind Brick, had opted for a different mission loadout. Wearing a black flak vest that left his massively muscled arms unclothed, as well as a pair of black fatigues, the Russian-Arab looked as if he was ready to take on an entire Centurion brigade by himself. Besides his MP5, on Krieger's broad back was slung a M60E3 machinegun, a lighter variant of the famous 'pig' used in wars since Vietnam. The powerful support weapon was a favorite of the Arab/Russian.
The two Peacemakers kept to the sides of the burned out buildings to avoid being seen by unfriendly eyes. The stink of asbestos and gasoline lay heavy in the air, leaving an unpleasant taste in Brick's mouth. Both men were using advanced Spectra night vision goggles, allowing them to see in the darker areas of the streets. Power was out in almost all of the downtown section of the city. At night when viewed from above, the city looked as if it was cut in half; sliced across the middle by some light sucking vampire. The ANDU forces to the north still controlled their own power stations, whereas in the south, the URAF had had to jury rig a multitude of generators and ad-hoc power plants to supply energy to their rebellion, unintentionally turning the Hatfield district itself into a sustainable city.
Brick checked the OpTab still strapped to his arm. The designated rendezvous location with the rebels was−according to the computer's internal GPS−still another klick due south. Miss Anders had told the Colonel to give whoever he sent to meet her the simple word phrase 'Raise the fog, stop the clocks'. The meeting location would be at a demolished high school just north of the perimeter of Hatfield.
A glint of movement two-hundred or so feet from Brick's ten-o'clock stopped him dead in his tracks. He made a halt signal with his left hand. Krieger immediately stopped and knelt on one knee. The surrounding detritus would shield them for the moment if anything went down.
"What is it?" Krieger asked, MP5 at the ready.
"Saw something at ten-o'clock, just yonder."
Krieger checked his watch. "Is way past ten my friend."
Despite the tension, Brick rolled his eyes. Sometimes working with this guy was a real pain in the ass. He pointed his hand in the general direction of the movement.
"Oh, I see." Krieger shuffled forward, staying low; trying to get a better look.
Both men waited, avidly searching the ruined cityscape to spot the movement again. After one whole minute of searching, Brick was about to move on when a shrill sound began to reverberate around the streets.
"What is−" Krieger began.
"Hush!" Brick hissed, bringing his own submachine gun up to eye level. He couldn't quite pin the sound, but whatever it was, it was airborne and approaching their position quickly.
They were currently in what appeared to have once been a central business hub of the ruined downtown. A large four way crosswalk separated a collection of a half dozen abandoned twenty to thirty story office complexes, in varying levels of ruin and neglect.
Brick's trained ear heard another noise approaching from the opposite direction. The noise became louder−a jet engine sound, too small to be an piloted aircraft.
"Drones." Brick whispered, finally clueing in.
From around the blasted buildings on opposite ends of the boulevard came two automated drones, with active searchlights sweeping the damaged buildings and streets. Each drone was about the size of a large car, thrust into the air by twin rotating jet engines.
"Chimera Hunter Killer drones." Brick whispered. Krieger nodded, his flippant attitude turned serious at the prospect of facing what by all accounts were two of Olympus's most dangerous weapons. They had run into the machines previously back in Egypt during the summer. With two hardpoints on the small folding wings on each side of the drone, the weapon was capable of dishing out extreme firepower in the form of incendiary cannonade, as well as short range rocket propelled grenades.
Neither Peacemaker moved a muscle, hoping against hope they were well enough hid from the hovering machines.
As the drones moved, one of the Chimeras' began to blare an automated message from a built in loudspeaker. In a heavily filtered female voice, it said, "Attention citizens of Sadoma. This city district has been designated property and protectorate of the Olympus Private Military. An official curfew is now in effect. Until further notice, all civilians must stay off the streets at all times."
The drones were approaching the two soldier's location, their hover motors pushing them along at an almost lazy speed. The voice continued to speak in its bored, monotone voice.
"We would like to remind citizens that the Olympus PMC is here to help them regain their rights to a free and just society. Tribune Commander Titus, head of Olympus forces in Sadoma, has promised clemency to any rebels wishing to give themselves up."
Brick unconsciously rolled his eyes.
Give up...and be summarily executed, you mean.
The drones met each other approximately fifty feet from Krieger and Brick's position. Upon reaching one another, the machines fell into a straight line, heading back towards the north.
Before the two comrades could breathe a sigh of relie
f, the shit hit the fan.
From the blasted out building directly adjacent to their hiding spot, Brick saw a flash of fiery light hurtle towards the tailing drone.
RPG.
The rocket propelled grenade contacted the drone perfectly, exploding in an awesome flash of bursting fire.
The burst of light overloaded the night vision goggles, forcing both Peacemakers to yank them off. They blinked several times, trying to adjust their eyes to the low light in the area.
The drone was barely scratched; the rocket having glanced against its armored side. Instantly the two Chimeras' pivoted towards the building and opened fire. The loudspeaker began to resound what sounded like an alert message.
"Under fire, request support. Centurion gunship, ETA five minutes!"
Krieger looked at Brick. The SAS man shrugged.
"It's the rebels, I wager!"
"What should we do?" The Russian asked, preparing to fire.
"Hold. They haven't spotted us and we don't know the whole angle here."
Krieger tensed his lip, not happy with non-action. Nevertheless, he held his position.
The drones were firing ad nauseum at the edifice. The concussion cannons, much like those used by Olympus Hastati flight troopers, were extremely powerful; melting concrete and metal rebar like army men in a microwave. Brick saw another rocket careen towards the same drone. This time the projectile impacted directly against the front grill of the hunter killer. The rocket propelled grenade detonated the drone. It fell to earth, lighting up the dark streets with a rain of fiery debris.
"Ha! They got one!" Krieger shouted.
The surviving drone abruptly swivelled to face them.
"Goddamn it, you wanker! They've spotted us! Run!" Brick hauled himself to his feet and bolted from their low lying position. Krieger followed suit, firing the MP5 at the floating machine of war. The two men stumbled along through the mountains of debris littering the area.
The drone, by now, had marked their positions. It loosed a barrage of cannonade that struck the building directly behind Krieger and Brick. The drone continued to fire its concussive rounds again and again. The fusillade of fire shattered the remaining foundation of the ten story building. An ear-splitting rumble beside them told Brick the whole structure was coming down.
"Move your ass!" Brick shouted at the Russian.
The ground began to shake as the building underpinnings buckled, then loosened. The two men ran as fast as their legs could go in the uneven terrain as the building collapsed completely, sending a blinding wave of smoke and wreckage behind them. Slipping on the rubble, Brick pitched forward, and down a steady slope of blasted concrete slabs. Krieger fell soon after, rolling sideways over and over until coming to a stop beside his comrade. The whole area was obscured by a heavy cloud of dust. Their eyes watered from the sting of the thick cloud.
Krieger managed to turn his body around. He gave Brick a rough tap on the back.
"Look up my friend," He said, coughing roughly, "Is not over yet!"
Brick shook his head, trying to clear the bells ringing in his ears. He placed a hand against them and could feel blood leaking from them.
As Brick opened his eyes to focus through the stinging cloud, he saw the drone floating towards them, weapons trained. Its VTOL jet engines pushed away the clouds of dust, causing swirling vortexes in the air.
Brick shook his head. "God blimey. Remind me never to take your word again on which street to take for a midnight jaunt."
Krieger smiled grimly as they watched the drone train its weapons upon them. From their position, prone and immobile, there was nothing they could do in time.
And abruptly, the drone exploded.
Both men shielded their faces as the obsidian black machine plunged to the earth and vaporized in a messy fireball. It was another few seconds before the two Peacemakers took their hands away from their eyes. As the remaining dust cloud vanished around them, Brick saw a small crowd of people standing a few dozen feet from them. His UMP9 was long lost; jostled out of his hand during their little run. Krieger stood up, grasped Brick by the elbow and helped the Brit to his feet.
There were about a dozen people−men, women and a few older children−in the small crowd that faced them. All were armed with various weapons typical to African militias; AK-74s, RPG-9s, Uzi 9mms and other older weapons.
The URAF rebels.
They were dressed in ragged, slapdash uniforms, with bandoliers and grenade belts over their chests. All were very dark skinned, typical of the Zimbalan population. They were thin and emaciated, with hardly a drop of fat on any of their bodies. Dust and grit caked their faces, upon which the burdens of those who'd seen more than their fair share of the horrors of war, weighed heavily. Their weapons were trained on Krieger and Brick.
One of them spoke−a younger man, taller than the rest. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and an unbuttoned green T-shirt.
"Who be you?" He spoke in broken English.
Brick and Krieger half-heartedly raised their hands.
"We're friends," Brick said, managing a weak smile, "Your leader asked for our help."
The Zimbalan man regarded Brick for a moment before responding, "What is pass?"
"Pass?" Brick asked, not comprehending, "Oh pass! Uh...raise the fog, stop the clocks."
The man seemed to relax upon hearing the words. "Good. You must come now. Dark soldiers return soon. Follow!"
The group of rebels turned and headed down the south facing street. Brick and Krieger cast questioning glances at each other before following. Brick unslung the FN FAL off his back which, remarkably, seemed undamaged during the attack. Krieger still had his MP5. The two men followed the group of rebels away from the destruction and, hopefully, towards their desired objective.
Sarah Anders.
* * *
IT WAS nearly three o'clock before the group came to sudden halt.
The leader gazed down the boulevard they'd been running as if he was listening for something. Brick's right ear was throbbing badly; he couldn't quite hear from it as well as with his left. He prayed it was only temporary. Krieger seemed none the worse for wear, besides several bad cuts and scrapes on his naked arms.
After a moment of listening, Krieger tapped Brick on the shoulder, "I hear Hyperion coming."
Great, thought Brick. All we need now.
The leader beckoned the group of rebels to follow him towards what looked like an outlet mall, now burned out and shelled. The windows were boarded up and no life could be seen inside. Krieger and Brick followed them through the main entranceway. Piling inside, they crouched away from view; huddling down around cracks in the structure so they could peer out at the street. After a moment, Brick too could hear the shrill sound of a Hyperion VTOL. A large floodlight swept across the street as the aircraft moved back the way the group had come, presumably to investigate the drone attack site.
As the Hyperion left the area, the whole group started to relax. The tension of the run through the streets subsided for the moment. Everyone staked out a temporary spot to rest.
Perhaps now, they could get some answers.
"So, who are you people?" Brick asked, leaning against the dusty wall of the mall interior.
The leader wiped his brow, his lanky form sitting on a piece of overturned cement mortar.
"I am Jacob Muzenda. This is squad I command. We fight the dark soldiers."
"Muzenda...you mean as in Donald Muzenda, the URAF leader?"
The young man nodded, "He is father. He is our best hope. Our true leader."
Krieger checked his MP5 and saw that the silencer had bent during the attack. The metal had permanently damaged the nozzle of the gun. He tossed the weapon to the ground with an angry grunt.
"Quiet!" Jacob said, making a waving motion with his hand. "There may be dark machines out still. Can hear very well. See very well, even at night."
"How long have things been like this?" Brick asked.
"Like this?" Ja
cob seemed to think Brick was asking about the entire war itself, "Over one year now. Fighting is long and difficult. But we train and recruit others from outside city to help."
"I mean, how long have the machines been patrolling?"
"Oh. About a week now. Started very bad three days ago. Hundreds killed in fight near Hatfield. Dark soldiers only leave after we destroy their floating plane."
Brick tried to piece together what the man meant. Before entering the city, Brick had received intelligence that there had been a large engagement near the Hatfield district that had seen the destruction of several Hyperions. That was probably what the young rebel was referring to.
Jacob continued, "You are looking for Miss Anders, yes?"
Brick straightened up at the name. "Yes, indeed we are. Can you take us to her?"
"You are late. Much has changed since last time Sarah call you."
"Like what?" Brick shifted uncomfortably, hoping they weren't too late.
"My father has been...hurt. During attack yesterday. Legs hurt, can't walk."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Brick replied, genuinely, "But we need to see Miss Anders. Soon as possible, ya' know what I mean?"
"Yes, long walk to there. Very dangerous. I will take..."
A loud clank from inside the mall caused everyone to start. Jacob leapt to his feet, turning around to face the corridor that lead into the main concourse of the mall. Brick hefted his FN FAL to his shoulder, with Krieger following suit with his M60E3.
Brick put a hand to his lips, urging the rebels to stay quiet. He then motioned for them to stay low and not to move.
Jacob readied his AK-74 and whispered to Brick, "I shall check it with you."
Brick nodded. The two Peacemakers lead the way into the mall, single file; Krieger covering his comrade's back. Jacob followed behind, eyes alert. The mall was very dark, with only a few rays of moonlight entering the shattered ceiling windows in the concourse for illumination. Brick pulled a small flashlight from the pocket of his fatigues and flicked it on.
