Head of the Serpent

by Allen Manning

  He lowered the monocular, confused for a moment before raising it up again. The tunnel ended about a quarter of a mile ahead, expanding to an expansive space. How long have they been building this? he thought.

  This was not the type of facility he had expected the Four Serpents to have constructed. What John saw would have required far more resources than they had expected. In the opened space, he saw a pair of temporary buildings, like the kind used on construction sites, set up end to end.

  “What are you up to, bin Hashim?”

  John tucked the monocular back into his vest and raised his P90, pulling it into his shoulder as he walked ahead. The man returned to the stack of crates. John crouched in place, hoping to minimize his shadow, disguising its silhouette. The man hoisted the box and walked away, John hurried, making it to the open space.

  The muzzle of his weapon following his gaze, John reached the first temporary office. His boots rang softly on the diamond plate steel steps as he approached the door. John put his ear against the wood, listening inside. He spotted the crate mover returning, and eased the door open, slipping inside before someone spotted him.

  The buzz of fluorescent lights and faux wood paneled walls almost made John forget that he was in the heart of a mountain. He approached a desk, rifling through some of the papers in neat stacks.

  “Shipping manifests?” John raised an eyebrow, folding one of the pages up and slipping it into his back pocket.

  A faint voice echoed in the distance. Someone shouting in Arabic. More voices joined in, answering or acknowledging what the first man said. Serpents on alert and rushing to battle stations. John crouched underneath the window in the trailer as the group moved away. Looks like the others were putting up a good fight.

  Another page caught John’s eye as he shifted some of the sheets to the side, revealing blueprints for a drone. He only had a second to look at the page when the stairs at the front clanged and rattled. John. Brought his weapon up just as the door swung open. The crate man stared at the stranger in his trailer, his hand snapping to the grip of his rifle.

  John’s PDW split the air, stitching five rounds in a jagged line up the man’s torso, the last bullet cracking his collarbone. The man staggered backward, tumbling down the stairs as his AK chattered. Well if they didn’t hear my shots, they undoubtedly would have heard that.

  As if on cue, shouting and thumping steps rushed toward the trailers. The back door flew open as an overweight man barged in. John whirled around and dropped to a crouch, pumping the man’s body with bullets. As his body fell forward, another man was already storming in, rifle barking. John drove his body to the side, shoulder slamming into the wall and rocking the trailer.

  He returned fire, sending two long bursts at the serpent, leading his target as he attempted to dodge. John’s weapon ran dry as a third terrorist barged in, his shotgun releasing a thunderclap in the close quarters.

  John pivoted behind a steel filing cabinet, letting his weapon fall to its sling and hoisting the heavy office furniture up. The shotgun exploded again, but the cabinet absorbed much of the buckshot as John charged ahead. He slammed into the serpent, the weight of the steel filing cabinet adding to the force of the impact.

  The terrorist winced in pain as the collision cracked several of his ribs. John hurled the filing cabinet out the door, sending two more men diving to the side to avoid being crushed. John wrapped an arm around his foe’s head and wrenched it to his right. As the terrorist’s body slumped to the floor, John caught the shotgun before it hit the ground.

  He stepped out the back door, twirled the firearm around, and unleashed another fusillade of lead shot, exploding another man’s chest. John racked the weapon and blasted the second serpent, shredding his shoulder and severing the arm. The pump let out another ka-chock as John finished the screaming man’s misery.

  His boots rang out as he went down the steps, heading for the second trailer. The door opened, and John brought the shotgun up. The man coming out looked down the barrel, eyes wide, struggling to hold his Skorpion steady.

  Both men squeezed the trigger at the same time, the serpent’s bullets flying over John’s head, into the first trailer as the double-aught buckshot slammed into his foe’s chest, hurling him back into the next temporary office.

  John bounded up the steps and stepped over the body, racking the weapon again. As he passed the entryway, a blur of movement closed in, a glint of steel leading the way. Bringing the shotgun up, John blocked the machete as it clanged off the steel body. He deflected the attack and swung the barrel back, pressing the trigger. Click

  The madman swiped with the blade again as John leaned back, barely escaping the killing blow. He slammed the stock of the shotgun into the man’s jaw, cracking the bone and sending the serpent flying out the window.

  John saw one more man in the office with him, and whipped the shotgun through the air, in a flat spin like a boomerang. The barrel struck the terrorist’s face, exploding in a spray of blood, saliva, and teeth. Drawing the USP, he ended the man’s misery with a double tap, sending a pair of .45 caliber slugs through him.

  The firefight now over, voices from further in the caves echoed as they approached. John scanned the immediate area with his pistol before swapping the partial mag for a full one and sliding the weapon into its holster. He picked up the AK-47 from the last man and stepped over his body, exiting the office.

  I guess they know I’m here now, he thought. John checked the selector, finding it still set to fire, and exited the second office trailer, making his way ahead, into the dark tunnels ahead.

  CHAPTER

  33

  The large space narrowed again branching off into a series of tunnels. John could hear voices, almost arguing. He turned his head and listened. Distant popping and thumps let him know Gavreau and the others were still in the fight.

  Something dripped onto his earlobe. He wiped it away and glanced down at the blood on his gloved fingertips. John dabbed at his ear, taking note at the stinging pain. His adrenaline was receding and no longer working to mask the smaller wounds across his body.

  Buckshot, grenade shrapnel, and flying shards of glass had all done a number, slicing small lines and punching tiny holes in various limbs. John couldn’t help but smile. With everything the enemy had thrown at him, including the kinetic-strike javelins, he could only count himself as lucky.

  “Can’t get lazy now, John,” he said, swinging the rifle’s sling over his body and heading into the dark network of tunnels.

  * * *

  Pausing to let his eyes adjust again, John crept forward. The discussions in the deeper tunnels separated, and he could tell now that only three men approached, judging by their conversations. They spoke in a mix of French and Arabic, but John still had no idea what they were saying.

  He spotted another hollow in the wall and sliced the corner before settling inside. This one was deeper than the other two, starting to turn before ending. He bent down at the box along the back wall, lifting the lid. Flares. Again.

  It wasn’t clear what the serpents were doing with the branches, but John could only guess that these were expansions or additional paths to the larger clearings. Before he made it back to the central tunnel, the flickering glow and hiss of a flare clattered along the ground up ahead.

  The angry red glow exposed another hollow up ahead on the other side of the tunnel. John held the front sight of the rifle, expecting someone to emerge, but instead, a figure rounded the bend of the primary pathway.

  The man wore a suit much different than the other serpents John had faced up to this point. More tactical in nature, with hard shell knee and elbow pads, and a helmet. The man had a bullpup weapon of some type, close to his body. Perfect for fighting in tight spaces like a network of tunnels. Perfect, John thought.

  Another figure followed behind, and a third, with the same loadout as the first man. As they approached the hollow up ahead, the serpent in the lead shifted his angle to cover anyone
that may have been hiding in there while the other two kept their aim straight ahead.

  He wouldn’t be able to stay hidden while they pass. Even with the short bend in his side passage. John had no other choice but to engage, while he had a half decent fighting position. He held the front sight on one of the men in the back, aiming his way. John tucked his elbows in, braced his rifle and let out a slow breath as he pressed the trigger.

  Chaos erupted from the muzzle as the flash pulsed in the darkness. As the light faded, John saw the man stagger away in the flare’s light. The other two spun and opened up on his position.

  The report from their rifles came in precise, three-round bursts, the muzzle flashes constrained to the sides, like the wings of a phoenix. Bullets carved gouges and knocked dents into the stone walls.

  John dropped to a crouch and leaned out again, opening up. His shots hit the wall in the distance as the lead serpent ducked into the hollow. The second man had also crouched, pressing his body against the wall. The third man rose to his feet again.

  Body armor. He cursed and opened fire once more, rewarded with a puff on the chest of the serpent, knocking him down again.

  “Stay down, this time,” he shouted.

  John knew the man was still in the fight, but getting hit in the chest with a sledgehammer, even in body armor had a demotivating effect that he hoped would sap some of the motivation out of the man.

  The other two returned fire, a series of tight bursts lighting up the tunnels. John took cover again. He could hear the men talking. If he had to guess, they were planning to rush his position.

  No doubt the third man surviving multiple hits only served to confirm the effectiveness of their armor. He leaned out and fired another pair of bursts. The serpents answered as all three men carved away at the wall.

  The leader shouted something, and the shooting stopped. Rocks and pebbles falling and bouncing along the tunnel surfaces blended with the approaching boot steps, gravel crunching as the serpents slithered forward.

  John cradled the AK in his arms and retrieved one of the flares from his pocket, pulling the cap. “I surrender. Please, don’t kill me.”

  “Come out. Hands up, American,” one of the serpents snapped.

  Snapping the striker across the tip, the flare hissed to life. He leaned out and tossed it at the lead terrorist. The second man hadn’t come as far, and the third took cover in the distant hollow.

  The flare’s glow flipped, end over end, playing tricks with the shadows. The serpent knocked the light to the side with his weapon, sending a shower of sparks as it struck. John had the AK against his body as he stepped out fully, advancing as the rifle roared to life, shaking more debris loose.

  The heavy slugs didn’t penetrate his foe’s body armor, but a half dozen jackhammer blows to the sternum had its own distinct flavor that John could use to his advantage when cooking up chaos.

  Dropping the now empty AK, he grabbed hold of the lead man’s weapon, using it spin him around and pin their bodies together. The second serpent raised his rifle, but hesitated, not wanting to kill his own man.

  That falter cost him as John drew his pistol and raised it up, squeezing off three shots. The first round cracked the lens of the goggles in a blood-spattered spiderweb. The next two rounds sparked off his helmet as the serpent crumbled.

  The third man leaned out, ready to fire. John, hoping for more luck, shifted his aim. Before he could press the trigger, his hostage struck his wrist with a hammer fist, knocking the USP 45 from his grip. John tried to grab hold of the man’s free hand when the serpent drove his helmeted head back into John’s face.

  He heard a crunch and felt a wet spray splash over his mouth and chin. A bright flash pulsed in his head as his eyes watered. John blinked away the pain as the terrorist spun around. Before he could fire, John forced the barrel down and away with one hand and pushed forward, launching a powerful elbow across his foe’s face, returning the kindness.

  The serpent fell, tugging at the weapon in John’s other hand. He maintained his grip, reaching down with the other hand to wrap around the rifle. He watched the third terrorist emerge from the hollow with his weapon raised. John hoisted the injured serpent up by the weapon’s sling as he brought the front sight up.

  Both men fired. John held his ground, ready and steady as his foe leaped to the side, sending his shots wide. John tracked his movements and sent another two bursts, stitching holes through his target’s body. To John’s relief, the rifle’s rounds penetrated the armor, dropping the serpent for good.

  The leader reached up to wrench the weapon free of John’s grasp, but he brought a boot down, stomping the man’s head into the ground and tearing the clasp from the sling, freeing the rifle. He triggered a final burst to finish the man and tore the other end of the sling free from the fore end.

  He ejected the empty magazine and found another on the man’s body, glancing down at the odd appearance. Caseless ammunition.

  “This is a little sophisticated for some snakes hiding in a mountain,” he said, reloading the rifle.

  CHAPTER

  34

  Following the trail of flares, John clutched the rifle close to his body, leaning to the side as he rounded the corner. Like before, this tunnel also opened up, but this time when he reached an area where he could stand comfortably, the path ended in a steel door.

  Checking the handle and finding it unlocked, John stepped into the entrance, keeping his weapon trained ahead. He eased the door closed, letting it latch when he noticed a strange crackling and popping.

  He knelt on one side of the hall and put a finger to his ear, keeping his voice low.

  “Parker? Is that you?”

  He could make out what sounded like a transmission, broken up into small pieces, only syllables slipping through the static. John looked around as he walked to the end of the short entryway, like an airlock.

  A second door greeted him, this time with a tall and narrow window along the upper right corner. The glass had reinforcing wires crisscrossing diagonally.

  The room on the other side was massive compared to the first area with the trailers. The window allowed him to see how high the ceiling went, looking more like a natural cave about twenty feet high. But it wasn’t wide enough for John to see very far on either side.

  Like the first door, this one was also unlocked. John had to push against the door with his shoulder, fighting the pressure from the other side. He slipped by the narrow gap, not wanting to open the door any further, and eased it shut.

  John stepped further inside and found a deep shadow along one of the walls, and knelt down in it to stay hidden.

  “—opy? I repeat, this is Parker, do you copy?”

  “Parker. Good to hear your voice again,” he said.

  “Is the rest of the team ok?” Parker asked.

  John turned his head to one side, listening for the distant battles still raging on. “I think so. The serpents have their hands full fighting against someone.”

  “Where are you guys? Is Gavreau there?”

  “We were separated. I pushed ahead and ended up in a giant cave.” John looked around, finally noticing a couple of men working to move some parts from one area, full of opened crates, to the far end.

  “I can see your feed again,” Parker said. “What are all those cables for?”

  John scanned the floor, spotting the large bundles snaking along the ground, into a side tunnel. Unlike the other passages, a bright light cast its glow from the depths, brighter than where he was.

  “Give me a minute. I’ll find out,” he said.

  John stood up just enough to see over some equipment where the cables disappeared into the darkness in the distance. He saw a faint bluish flickering glow on the far end of the area.

  “I think it’s computer equipment,” John said. “This could be our primary objective.”

  “Fantastic. John, You have to make sure nothing makes it out of there. No flash drives, no floppy discs, not
hing.” Parker stressed the importance of the mission through his tone, none of the usual jovial nature left.

  “You can count on it,” John said.

  He made his way along one of the curving walls, toward the point of origin of the bundled cables. As he moved deeper into the cave, his eyes pulled more details from everything inside, aided by a semi-circle of work lights.

  “Is that a truck?” Parker asked.

  “Yeah. Looks like a fuel tanker,” John said. “The only way they could get that in here is if that tunnel with the cables heads outside.”

  “That’s got to be it,” Parker said. “It explains why you’ve got a signal again.”

  John raised his weapon, sighting down the barrel as he stepped further into the cave. He kept his focus on the fuel tanker parked close to the center of the massive cavern.

  Reaching the cable bundle, John turned to peer down the tunnel, seeing a series of work lights, like the ones set up inside. In the distance, he could see trees and a sliver of the night sky.

  “This tunnel leads outside,” he said. “I don’t see anyone there. They must all be inside working.”

  Pivoting to follow the cables to the equipment inside, John moved quicker, stopping next to the truck as he heard some more voices. He saw two younger men in the distance grabbing more parts, but someone else was yelling something at them.

  On the other side, he spotted part of a drone. The fuselage was mostly assembled, but the wings were sitting on a separate rack.

  “Probably won’t fit through the tunnel if they left the wings on,” Parker said, finishing John’s thoughts.

  John swept the area, looking for the man shouting at the young serpents. He found a large muscular man and put the rifle sights on him. The man wore an outfit similar to the three he just fought in the central tunnel.