by Dave Edlund
He rubbed the back of his sleeve across his face again, trying to erase all evidence of his frailty, and then placed his right hand on the Colt pistol once again in its holster on his hip. Without ammunition it was pretty much useless. Still, he drew a measure of confidence from its presence. More useful was Hamaad’s machete, which Peter had in a sheath slung across his back.
Turning, he marched the few dozen yards to the tip of the finger ridge and joined the other snipers, ready to bring hell to the enemy below.
“Glad you decided to join us,” Homer quipped. And then, in a lower voice meant only for Peter to hear, he added, “He’ll be fine.”
Peter turned his head toward Homer who was occupied with the image through the BORS scope. “Let’s get this done.”
“Just another day on the job.” Homer responded.
The extraction team of Ghost, Magnum, and Bull were moving double time for the compound. The sun was barely below the horizon. The men hoped it would not be hard for the sniper team to pick out their targets.
The extraction team had only covered about 300 yards when the first report from a Barrett rifled echoed off the ridgeline. The men kept moving, not slowing or hesitating. They had to keep moving toward the danger, trusting that any threats would be eliminated for them.
“Remember to lead the target if it’s running,” Homer urged his fellow snipers. Firing at will, the four men made nearly every shot count, only occasionally missing.
The SGIT extraction team had gained another 70 yards leaving 800 yards to cover. They were measuring their pace, jogging at a comfortable and sustainable speed. It would take them at least three more minutes to cover the remaining distance… and a lot could happen in three minutes.
From their position on the finger ridge, the sniper team could see everything on the battlefield below them. Another group of four Homothals disgorged from the nearest building and ran toward Ghost, Magnum, and Bull. Right behind the Homothals were three Chinese soldiers. One of the men was lugging a machine gun, and he was closely followed by two others carrying boxes of ammunition in each hand. Bull’s squad had no idea they were running directly into a machine gun.
“Todd, Gary… take out the lead group of four; the ones that are running toward our guys. Peter… we’ll focus on that machine gun crew setting up down there. You see them?”
“Yes… the three men at the rear,” Peter answered as he pointed in the general direction.
“Yeah, that’s right. Try to make your shots count, but don’t sweat it if you miss. The point is to keep them distracted. We can’t let our guys run into that machine gun. Got it?”
Peter responded by firing the first shot. The bullet missed, but struck the ground very close to one of the ammunition bearers. The soldier looked up to the ridge in the direction of the snipers and tapped the machine gunner on the shoulder, and pointed. The gunner pivoted to his right and, pointing the machine gun upwards, began to fire in Peter’s general direction.
The shots all fell short, but as long as the machine gun was aimed at the snipers it was no threat to the SGIT trio charging across open ground.
Homer aimed and fired, taking out one of the soldiers carrying ammunition cans. Peter fired again, killing the other ammunition bearer. Amidst the roar of gunfire, the machine gunner had no idea his support team, standing slightly behind him, had just been eliminated. The gunner continued to focus on firing his weapon at the unseen enemy on the ridge above.
Homer took the next shot. He was well practiced with the Barrett. Under these conditions, no wind, stationary target, distance of just over 1,000 yards, the shot was easy for him. He gently squeezed the trigger and watched as a little over a second later the soldier’s head exploded in a splash of red.
The three-man SGIT squad was close enough now that they could see the Homothals closing on them. But just as one would raise its rifle to shoot, a silent bullet would strike the enemy down. Like a badly dubbed movie, the sound of the rifle shot came about three seconds after the impact. Bull kept moving forward, trusting that no harm would come to him or his fellow soldiers.
When the last Homothal was shot down, Bull’s team arrived within 500 yards of the compound. The fenced parade ground was off to their left.
As they continued their forward momentum, the team was suddenly showered by bullets striking the earth around them, followed immediately by the report of rifle fire. The SGIT soldiers quickly began to dodge left and right, while never slowing their forward pace.
Todd was first to locate the new source of fire. “At the side of the closest building. See them?”
Two Homothals were shooting at the extraction team. Gary swiveled slightly to take aim and fired. Todd fired at the same time and both Homothals crumpled over. The remaining Chinese officer looked up in the sniper team’s direction and impotently held up his fist. Peter could imagine the officer cursing him and the other snipers. Homer fired and the officer slammed back against the wall, his chest a massive red stain.
Bull, Ghost, and Magnum continued forward—relentlessly. By now they were all breathing heavily. Each man was carrying about 85 pounds of weapons, ammunition, and explosives. Despite the cool early morning temperature, they were all perspiring heavily.
“Stay sharp,” Homer ordered the sniper team. “They’re close, but it’s not over yet.”
No sooner had he uttered the warning when the shutters on the two closest towers opened and machine-gun fire rained down on the SGIT team.
“Shit!” Homer exclaimed. “Gary, Todd—take out the gunners in the closest tower. Peter—we have the far tower.”
They fired rapidly, knowing that to fail could be disastrous for Ghost, Magnum, and Bull. The towers fell silent, but not before Ghost took a grazing round to his thigh. It burned like a hot poker, but other than missing a step, it didn’t slow him down. At over 300 yards distance, the enemy soldiers were still not able to place accurate fire on the running targets.
Homer feared that replacement soldiers could put the machine guns in the towers back into service. He needed to disable the weapons. Slamming a magazine of explosive rounds into his rifle, he carefully aimed, firing five shots at the gun emplacement in each of the two towers. Only time would tell if he was successful.
Finally, the enemy was driven from the field and the Barrett rifles fell silent. The thousand-plus yard gauntlet now behind them, Bull, Ghost, and Magnum finally reached the nearest building. They quickly ducked inside and disappeared from view.
Chapter 39
Darfur
June 14 0800 hours
Bull and Magnum moved along the right wall, Ghost along the left wall. Just inside the doorway they stepped over the body of a Homothal lying next to a Chinese soldier.
The objective was simple: quickly and efficiently sweep the building to find their commander. If he was not in this building they would split up and search the remaining four buildings, staying in touch through their scrambled squad-net communication sets.
All three men moved forward deliberately; legs in a slight crouch, senses on full alert, weapons held tight to their shoulders, sweeping back and forth. Magnum was frequently looking back to be sure no one came up from behind them.
A sound from down the hallway caught the extraction team’s attention. Two Chinese soldiers, reinforcements for the defenders outside, entered the hallway from the far end. Surprised at the sight of the SGIT team, they stopped and a half second later started to raise their rifles.
Bull and Ghost reacted much faster. Knowing that there were no ‘friendlies’ other than Jim in these buildings, the extraction team automatically assumed everyone they encountered was a threat to be eliminated.
Bull and Ghost fired short bursts from their automatic shotguns, killing the soldiers before they had even taken aim. The extraction team traveled half way down the hallway and did not encounter any additional resistance, worrying Bull. Where were the majority of the defensive forces? Would they encounter heavy fighting in one of the othe
r remaining three buildings?
The SGIT team pressed forward. Each time they came to a door, the nearest man would peek through the small window in the door. If the room appeared empty, he would check the door latch. If unlocked, the men would rush in, sweeping the room with their weapons. Fortunately, they had not encountered any locked doors—so far.
They proceeded nearly to the end of the hallway. Only two more doors remained to be checked, one on each side of the hallway. These last two doors were much further apart from the other doors, suggesting the rooms they opened into were large. Bull motioned to Ghost. They would check both doors at the same time.
Carefully, each man peered into the small window. Ghost abruptly dropped to a crouch and pushed his back against the wall. Bull and Magnum knew this meant trouble and they, too, dropped to the floor and scooted across the hallway to join Ghost.
“Boss Man’s in there,” Ghost whispered, “and he’s surrounded by Chinese.”
From his pack, Ghost removed a miniature fiber-optic camera probe connected by a flexible wire to a small hand-held LCD screen. He powered up the device and carefully positioned the probe at the corner of the window, slowly moving it from side to side until he had Boss Man in view.
He could easily see his commander with an IV in his arm strapped to the examination table. A Chinese officer appeared to be questioning him. Another man wearing a white smock stood off to the side and was filling a syringe with something from a small glass vial. Surrounding them were three soldiers and three Homothals.
Ghost was trying to make sense of it. “This room must be soundproof, otherwise the guards would be posted at this door. The bottom of the door seals against the floor; maybe there’s an air filtration system—looks like it might be a lab or something like that.”
The man in the white lab coat, syringe in hand, stepped toward Commander Nicolaou.
“We have to move now!” Ghost whispered. “It looks like they’re preparing to inject something into Boss Man.”
Bull nodded. “What do we have?”
“Six armed bad guys, one officer who appears to be interrogating Boss Man, and a mean looking doctor.”
“Tight group?”
“Yeah. The bad guys are maybe three feet away from the examination table to the right. The officer and doc are to the left.”
“Are the officer or doctor armed?”
“The doc is unarmed near as I can tell… can’t see if the officer has a pistol belt on… he’s standing on the far side of the table.”
Bull nodded again. “You know the drill. Standard hostage rescue. Check the latch, is it open?”
Ghost reached up and very quietly applied pressure to the door handle. There was no resistance; the door was not locked.
Chapter 40
Darfur
June 14 0648 hours
“I am a reasonable man, Commander. All you need to do is answer my question and we can avoid this messy business.” Colonel Ming’s fake smile looked more like a grimace.
Jim Nicolaou remained firmly strapped to the examination table and the doctor had inserted an IV into his arm; the shirtsleeve neatly folded up to his bicep. Dr. Hsu was preparing the viral agent that he would inject into the IV drip to infect Nicolaou’s body. Jim struggled against the bonds holding his arms and legs to the table, but to no avail.
“You can go to hell, Ming.”
“Perhaps… but not before you.” Ming looked over at the doctor making his preparations.
“Are you ready with the viral dose?” The doctor was withdrawing a measured sample from a small ampoule into a glass syringe.
“In just a moment, sir,” the doctor replied, not breaking his concentration. “It is very important that the dose be correct. The margin between an effective dose and a fatal dose is slim. Too little, and the patient’s immune system is likely to overwhelm the virus before it can fully infect his body. Too much, and he will go into cardiac arrest.”
“Hmm. That would be a shame,” Ming admitted. “The serum you will be injected with is 33vK; it is based on the common cold virus. This is our standard treatment. Dr. Hsu would have preferred to use an experimental serum based on a new strain of the Filoviridae virus—what you know as Ebola—but I told him no because the risk of death is too great.”
“Your concern for my health is touching.”
“Oh, don’t flatter yourself. I am only interested in seeing how you perform as a Homothal. Until now, all my test subjects have been culled from the native population. They had no prior training as soldiers.
“But you… perhaps you will be the first of a master race of genetically superior warriors. I should have recognized these possibilities sooner. This should make you proud Commander, you are at the leading edge of science!”
“Tell me something, Ming. When did you become so perverted—or were you just born that way?”
Enraged, Colonel Ming struck Jim across the face with the back of his hand, drawing a small trickle of blood from his nose.
“Where did you send the transmission?”
Jim remained silent.
“Very well. Doctor, proceed.”
Suddenly, the door burst open and the three SGIT soldiers rushed into the lab, weapons raised and firing. The Chinese soldiers and Homothals were focused on their prisoner and were unprepared for the sudden attack.
A barrage of lead cut through the guards; so closely grouped around the table, they had little chance of returning fire. One Homothal, though struck by buckshot and bullets, managed to raise its rifle and fire a poorly aimed burst, but none of the SGIT team were hit.
The SGIT soldiers fired their weapons in full automatic mode. The firefight lasted only three seconds.
When the gunfire ceased, the soldiers and Homothals were all dead on the floor, Dr. Hsu was still standing over Commander Nicolaou, but Colonel Ming had disappeared.
“Get Ming!” shouted Jim.
Magnum rushed forward toward the closing door just beyond the table. Reaching the doorway and placing his back to the wall, Magnum reached down and pulled the door open just a crack.
Bullets peppered the door and frame. “They got us pinned down in here, sir,” Magnum reported.
Meanwhile, the doctor moved to inject the virus into the IV drip line. Ghost and Bull were pointing their guns at him. “Let me go—or I will inject him.”
“Drop the syringe now,” Bull commanded, “or my next shot will take your hand off at the wrist.”
The doctor hesitated for a second before dropping the syringe; it shattered on the floor.
Ghost covered the doctor while Magnum and Bull undid the restraints holding Jim to the table.
“To say I’m glad to see you guys would be an understatement. You can brief me later on how you got in, but now we need to get out of here.”
“Sir, I spoke with the Colonel,” Bull interrupted. “Our orders are to toast the entire compound once we have secured your release. Colonel Pierson was very clear, no research data, records, reports, or related documents are to remain.”
“A half dozen 2,000-pound bombs would do the job nicely,” Jim suggested.
“Yes, sir. I explained the situation to Colonel Pierson. He told us to improvise; said he cannot order an air strike or cruise missile attack.”
Jim looked around the lab as he hopped off the table. “I was in this room earlier. There’s a storage room over there, through the door Ming went out,” he nodded his head to the left, “and it’s full of chemical reagents and solvents.”
“That’s fine for taking care of this building, but there are three others, too,” Magnum reminded everyone.
Jim thought for a moment, and then turned to the doctor standing silently under Ghost’s watchful eyes.
“I think the good doctor will help us.”
“I will do no such thing,” the doctor answered defiantly.
“Doctor, what are the other buildings used for?” Jim asked casually, as if they were acquaintances exchanging small talk.
“I will not help you.”
“Oh, I think you will.” Jim walked to the bench where minutes earlier the doctor had been busily preparing the viral agent for injection. The bench, one of several like it in the lab, had cabinets below and open shelving at the back. On the shelving sat an endless selection of chemicals in glass and plastic bottles, all neatly arranged in alphabetic order.
He picked up a bottle, examined the label, and then put it down before moving to the next bottle. He repeated this process several times, not finding whatever he was looking for.
“Doctor, I think I’ll take a lesson from Colonel Ming’s notebook. He has some rather extreme ideas on obtaining information from prisoners, but perhaps they’ll work for me. What do you think?”
The doctor recoiled in terror. He had no idea what Jim was preparing to do to him, and his imagination only amplified his fear. Ghost grabbed the doctor by his shoulders.
“Don’t worry Doc,” Ghost said, mocking the man’s obvious fear. “This won’t hurt much, will it Commander?”
“I don’t know—depends on what we use as a pain scale.”
Jim picked up another bottle, totally at random, but the doctor had no way of knowing.
“I wonder what this one tastes like. Ghost, I think we should let the doctor taste it, don’t you?”
Ghost smiled thinly. His hold on the doctor’s shoulders tightened.
Jim held the bottle in front of the doctor so he could read the label… potassium hydroxide. Jim vaguely recognized the chemical name and was sure the doctor was well versed in its uses. From the rising terror in his eyes, it was evident he guessed right.
“No, you can’t make me eat that. It will kill me!”
“Really? Well, we won’t give you very much then… at least, not all at once. We can start with… say… a couple hundred milligrams?”
“No! You can’t; you are in violation of the Geneva Convention!”
“So is experimentation on people. Not to mention murder, rape, and genocide.”
