by David Spell
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Other Books by David Spell
Chapter One Atlanta, Friday, 1640 hours
The Pen Centre Mall, St. Catherines, Canada, Saturday, 1140 hours
The Consulate General of the People's Republic of China, Toronto, Saturday, 4:10pm
Palmer Woods, Detroit, Sunday, 11:15am
Atlanta Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport, Sunday, 1620 hours
Chapter Two Reston, Virginia, Monday, 0650 hours
CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia, Monday, 1050 hours
Trenton, New Jersey, Wednesday, 1310 hours
Woodhaven, Michigan, Wednesday, 1325 hours
FBI Headquarters, Washington, D.C., Friday, 1040 hours
Empire Luxury Apartments E 44th St, New York City, Friday 2255 hours
Washington, D.C., Friday, 2345 hours
Chapter Three Near the Metro Police HQ, Washington, D.C., Monday, 9:45am
Holiday Inn Express, Newark, New Jersey, Monday, 1105 hours
Century Tactical Solutions, Leesburg, Virginia, Tuesday, 0935 hours
Westland, Michigan, Tuesday, 1:55pm
Morrisville, Pennsylvania, Thursday, 1555 hours
Chapter Four Safe house, East 41st Street, New York, New York, Monday, 0725 hours
Trenton, New Jersey, Monday, 0820 hours
Morrisville, Pennsylvania, Monday, 0835 hours
Trenton, New Jersey, Monday, 0905 hours
Manhattan, New York City, Monday, 1735 hours
Chapter Five Westland, Michigan, Tuesday, 1505 hours
The White House, Washington, D.C., Wednesday, 0940 hours
One World Tavern, E 43rd Street, NYC, Wednesday, 1810 hours
Fly NYC Terminal, adjacent to the East River, New York City, New York, Wednesday, 1935 hours
Upper Deck Sports Bar, E 44th Street, New York City, Wednesday, 2025 hours
Empire Luxury Apartments E 44th St, New York City, Wednesday, 2035 hours
Chapter Six Newcomb, New York, Wednesday, 2335 hours
Best Western Hotel, North of Philadelphia, Thursday, 1010 hours
Newcomb, New York, Thursday, 1035 hours
FBI Headquarters, Washington, D.C., Thursday, 1250 hours
Chapter Seven Brooklyn, New York, Friday, 0500 hours
Philadelphia, Friday, 1135 hours
Empire Luxury Apartments E 44th St, New York City, Friday, 1405 hours
Westland, Michigan, Friday, 1600 hours
Palmer Woods, Detroit, Friday, 1625 hours
CIA HQ, Langley, Virginia, Friday, 2010 hours
Chapter Eight North of Philadelphia, Saturday, 1035 hours
Wynnewood, Pennsylvania, Saturday, 1055 hours
North of Philadelphia, Saturday, 1140 hours
CIA HQ, Langley, Virginia, Saturday, 1200 hours
North of Philadelphia, Saturday, 1235 hours
One mile downriver, Philadelphia, Saturday, 1325 hours
Ridley Park, Pennsylvania, Saturday, 1515 hours
Wynnewood, Pennsylvania, Saturday, 2015 hours
Riverside Apartments, Phildelphia, Saturday, 2030 hours
Chapter Nine Riverside Apartments, Philadelphia, Sunday, 0015 hours
Ridley Park, Pennsylvania, Sunday, 0155 hours
Roxborough Memorial Hospital, Philadelphia, Sunday, 0325 hours
Wynnewood, Pennsylvania, Sunday, 0730 hours
Wynnewood, Pennsylvania, Sunday, 1045 hours
Roxborough Memorial Hospital, Philadelphia, Sunday, 1115 hours
Wynnewood, Pennsylvania, Sunday, 1125 hours
Chapter Ten Starbucks, Philadelphia, Monday, 0905 hours
The Consulate General of the People's Republic of China, Toronto, Monday, 1030 hours
Roxborough Memorial Hospital, Philadelphia, Monday, 1220 hours
Reston, Virginia, Monday, 1935 hours
Chapter Eleven Dearborn, Michigan, Thursday, 0030 hours
FBI Headquarters, Washington, D.C., Friday, 1040 hours
Patrick V. McNamara Federal Building, Detroit, Michigan, Sunday, 0925 hours
Dearborn, Michigan, Wednesday, 2015 hours
Patrick V. McNamara Federal Building, Detroit, Michigan, Friday, 1145 hours
Chapter Twelve Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport, Washington, D.C. Tuesday, 1605 hours
Dearborn, Michigan, Wednesday, 1245 hours
Patrick V. McNamara Federal Building, Detroit, Michigan, Thursday, 0150 hours
Roxborough Memorial Hospital, Philadelphia, Saturday, 1725 hours
Chapter Thirteen The White House, Washington, D.C., Tuesday, 1010 hours
The Chinese Embassy, Washington, D.C., Wednesday, 0645 hours
The White House, Washington, D.C., Wednesday, 0920 hours
Chapter Fourteen Six Weeks Later, Roxborough Memorial Hospital, Philadelphia, Wednesday, 0250 hours
Winchester, Virginia, Wednesday, 1115 hours
Hometown Inn, North Avenue, Maryland, Wednesday, 1025 hours
Reston, Virginia, Wednesday, 1620 hours
Century Tactical Solutions, Leesburg, Virginia, Thursday, 1210 hours
Chesapeake Drive, Edgemere, Maryland, Thursday, 1630
Edgemere, Maryland, Thursday, 1510 hours
Chapter Fifteen Century Tactical Solutions, Leesburg, Virginia, Friday, 0810 hours
Reston, Virginia, Sunday, 0745 hours
Between Destiny and Duty:
A Chuck McCain Novel- Book Two
David Spell
This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to events or persons, living, dead, or fictitious are purely coincidental. Some actual locations are used in a fictitious way and the descriptions included here are not meant to be accurate. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.
Copyright © 2021 David Spell
DavidSpell.com
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 9798458202756
Imprint: Independently published
Other Books by David Spell
The Zombie Terror War Series
When the Future Ended
The Darkest Part of the Night
When the Stars Fell From the Sky
Running Towards the Abyss
Climbing Out of the Ruins
Where the Vultures Gather
The Chuck McCain Series
Storm Clouds Rising
David’s Police Memoirs
Street Cop
Street Cop II: Reloaded
CHAPTER ONE
ATLANTA, FRIDAY, 1640 HOURS
The six heavily armed men moved into position, lining up along the brick wall beside the gray metal door. Each wore the distinctive olive-green uniforms of the Atlanta Police Department’s SWAT Team. They were on the clock and had no time to waste. The rear man in the stack put his hand on the shoulder of the teammate in front of him. That officer, in turn, performed the same maneuver alerting the next in line that he was ready.
As soon as point man, former Clemson University defensive tackle Greg Thomas, felt a hand on his right shoulder, he stepped out of the stack and slammed a thirty-five pound steel battering ram into the door, shattering the lock and creating an opening for the tactical officers. Thomas smoothly side-stepped to his left, dropping the ram and bringing up his M4. He would follow the team in, taking up the rear position. The second officer in the stack now led the way into the structure, his rifle locked into his shoulder.
Across the room, a masked hostage-taker held a gun to a young woman�
��s head. The lead SWAT officer quickly placed the red dot of his EOTECH site over the gunman’s head and squeezed the trigger. A loud “click” echoed in the room instead of the sound of a gunshot.
“Jam!” the officer yelled, ducking to the side.
The third officer in the stack was already on target, triggering his M4 twice, both shots striking the hostage-taker in the forehead, blood spraying out as the target dropped to the floor. The next officer in line swung his rifle to the left, covering the open door leading into the next room.
“Doorway, nine-o’clock,” he called, as he moved in that direction. “Throwing a bang!”
The door breach and the shots had alerted anyone else inside the structure to their presence. A flash-bang grenade would regain the SWAT team’s advantage. The officer quickly pulled the pin on the cylindrical device and lobbed it into the next room. The arming spoon flew off and two seconds later a loud explosion shook the building, the tactical officers looking away so as not to be blinded by the burst of light. The flash-bang was designed to stun and disorient. While the detonation could injure bystanders, there was no shrapnel in the weapon allowing the SWAT team to enter safely.
The officers rushed into the adjoining room, dust and smoke from the explosion filling the air. Three armed men stood against the back wall. Two held AK-47s while the third aimed a pistol at them. The first officer through the door got off one round before his M4 also jammed. Fortunately, that one round caught an AK wielding terrorist in the throat. The rest of the team fired as they moved, placing several shots into each of the other gunman.
“Three down,” team leader Sergeant Reggie Davis yelled from his vantage point in the middle of the stack, glancing down at the unmoving bodies. “We’ve got another doorway at one-o’clock.”
The officer with the misfire let the now useless rifle hang from its sling and drew his Smith and Wesson M&P 9mm pistol, nodding at the team leader that he was still in the fight.
“Hey, is that someone in the corner? It looks like a kid,” Greg Thomas called out.
In the shadows of the room, the SWAT team had almost missed the small, crouching figure. All muzzles swung towards it, unsure of whether or not it was a threat. Greg’s weapon light illuminated a young boy, huddled in the corner, holding his head in his hands.
“Thomas!” The team leader pointed at the officer who had first seen the child. “Stay with him until we clear this next room.”
The lead officer pulled a flash-bang off his vest and started to pull the pin. Suddenly, a loud scream, the sound of a child in distress, came through the open door from the dark interior.
“Hold on the grenade,” Davis ordered.
He pointed at three team members, signaling them to go right. He and the remaining officer would go left. Reggie and his backup led the way through the doorway, turning left, only to see three figures pointing rifles at the them from the corners, a fourth gunman holding a gun to a young girl’s head against the far wall.
The team leader’s rifle roared twice as he moved further down the wall, the 5.56mm rounds striking a gunman armed with a shotgun, sending him spinning to the floor. The rest of the team quickly engaged the other gunmen, making headshots on each of them. One of the tactical officers rushed over to the downed hostage-taker and snatched the girl from his arms, her faced splattered with the blood of her attacker.
Davis quickly moved through the room making sure each of the threats were down and out.
“We’re clear,” he called.
From a metal walkway above the shoot house, Chuck McCain, Andy Fleming, and Jimmy Jones observed the tactical team in action. This was the third group to run this last exercise of the week, each team hoping to outdo their friends in speed and accuracy.
After Davis called out that they were clear, Fleming took charge.
Andy, a former MARSOC Marine, called down to the SWAT officers, “Okay, gentleman, let’s make the range safe. If you have a pistol out, holster it. Remove the magazine from your rifles and lock the action to the rear. Confirm that your weapon is clear and empty. Team leader, let me know when you have verified that the line is safe.”
Reggie checked each team member’s M4 to confirm that it was now unloaded. He had Greg Thomas visually check his weapon to make sure that he was empty, as well.
“The line’s safe,” Davis called up to the three men who had spent the last week training them in advanced close-quarter tactics.
McCain was the vice-president of Century Tactical Solutions based in Leesburg, Virginia, and Fleming was the company’s training director. They specialized in training SWAT Teams and small military units in cutting edge tactics. Jones was one of their adjunct instructors.
“This is the last debrief of the week, Andy,” Chuck said. “Let’s wrap it up and hit the road. I’m ready to get home.”
Five minutes later, the three teams crowded into the first room where entry had been made. The SWAT officers were now laughing and giving each other a hard time, knowing that their intense work for the week was over and they could allow themselves to unwind.
The first life-size 3D rubber target had fallen over from the impact of the two .69 grain soft-point 5.56mm rounds to the head. The blood capsule inside the skull added to the realism of the exercise. The first bullet had struck just above the bridge of the nose, with the second round striking two inches higher.
“Good shooting,” Fleming commented, looking at the placement of the two rounds. “I liked the way the lead guy ducked to the side after that misfire. This allowed the next officer to step up to deal with the threat.”
“Man. that was dirty setting us up with those jams,” a young Hispanic officer said, eliciting sympathetic laughter from the other SWAT officers.
Andy nodded. “Don’t ever forget that our good friend, Mr. Murphy, is present on every operation. Whether it’s an operator tripping and blocking a doorway, a firearm malfunction, a flash-bang that bounces back and blows up in the middle of the stack, or a team member getting shot, we have to be able to improvise, adapt, and overcome.”
They moved through the other two rooms, with Fleming, McCain, and Jones dissecting their tactics, pointing out things the tactical officers did well and things that could be improved on. In the second room, Andy walked over to the child-sized plastic figure in the corner.
“Thomas, good job on spotting that kid in the corner. The second team moved right past him.”
This elicited more laughter from the SWAT officers.
Jimmy pointed at the team leader. “Sergeant Davis, why’d you not let your guy throw the flash-bang into the last room?”
“That soundtrack you guys played of a kid screaming,” the dark-skinned team leader answered. “I was worried the grenade might injure the child.”
“You got some big balls, man. That was good judgment on your part, but we all know doorways are fatal funnels. It’s very likely someone on your team would’ve taken a round charging into that room.”
“That’s why I went first,” Reggie shrugged.
“You might just have a little Marine in you,” Jones, a former Marine officer, smiled. The African-American had risen to the rank of captain, serving two combat tours in Iraq before resigning his commission to take care of his mother who had been diagnosed with terminal ovarian cancer. After she had passed, Jimmy joined the Alabama State Patrol where he had led the agency in recovery of drugs and the arrest of fugitives.
Five years later, he was recruited to join the new Centers for Disease Control Enforcement Unit working with Chuck and Andy. The CDC ended up on the front-lines after the zombie virus was deployed. Jones had then followed his friends to the CIA, serving in the ops directorate. When a corrupt CIA Director had gutted their division, Jimmy again ended up working with his friends, this time at Century Tactical as one of their contract instructors.
“Okay, any questions?” Andy asked, looking around the room at the tactical officers. When no one responded, he concluded, “That’s it for the debrief.�
�
He pulled out a stopwatch. “All three teams performed very well. But I know you want to know who gets the bragging rights as the fastest in clearing the house. Team one, 31.3 seconds. Not bad but team two, 29.8. Team three, you’re our winner at 28.6 seconds. Well done, guys. I’d go to war with any of you.”
The winners all raised their arms in victory, as the other two teams gave them a one-finger salute in unison. Fleming presented each man with a certificate for completing the course, as McCain and Jones shook everyone’s hand.
Twenty minutes later, the rubber 3D targets were loaded into the back of McCain’s Silverado. The instructors pulled their own body armor off, placed their rifles in their respective cases, and prepared to leave.
“Hey, Chuck,” Jimmy said, “I’m not going back to Virginia with you guys. I finally managed to get Grace to return my call. She’s picking me up and we’re going out for dinner. If things go well, we’ll hang out tomorrow and then double-date with Eddie and Candace and I’ll fly home on Sunday.”
“That’s awesome, buddy!” McCain replied, giving his friend a fist bump. “Give her a hug for me and tell her she needs to come visit. We’ve got an extra bedroom and Beth would love to see her. Look for a deposit into your account next week for this course. You’re an awesome instructor, Jimmy, and we’d love to use you again.”
“Thanks, Chuck. I appreciate you thinking of me. It’s always good hanging with you guys. See you next week.”
