“Smithy” Jacko spoke as he began to slow down, “Mile and a half, seven minutes?” he asked as the back door flung open, they were still doing about fifteen miles an hour. “AND REMEMBER, AS MANY AS POSSIBLE ALIVE!” he shouted after the Sniper.
“Make it six boss, see ya” he flung himself out and rolled at the same time, the door closed under its own momentum. Holding the rifle firmly at a right angle across the chest prevented anything from going into the barrel. But all the while he was thinking on the command Jacko had just given and thinking ‘you gotta be kidding me!’ but he had no intention of disobeying, there was too much respect for the man.
Paratroopers are used to hitting things at speed, unlike when a skydiver comes to ground and has controls to slow his or her rate of descent down, a paratrooper doesn’t have that luxury, the ‘chute’ slows them down enough that the jump isn’t going to kill them, but if you don’t know how to control the landing you’re gonna get a bone or two broken on landing, Smithy was ex ‘paras’ and knew just to how to do it.
As soon as Smithy was clear Jacko hit the accelerator again, the wheels gravel flew as the wheels spun and the vehicle sped away, “Two miles to our debus point” Mac readied his weapon, as the passenger he would exit first and cover Jacko as he sought to hide the vehicle.
They were on a track that ran parallel with the road but didn’t go all the way to the farmhouse, about a mile further up it veered off to the left, skirting the forest, far enough away that they wouldn’t be heard approaching, yet near enough to get in close without too much trouble.
The .303 is an old bolt action rifle, but it’s one that’s absolutely loved by hunters! First developed at the turn of the twentieth century, the ten round bolt action rifle was one of the most accurate rifles ever made, and using the MkVII .303 round gave the thing an effective killing range of upto two miles, in the right hands it’s a lethal weapon with few equals, the beauty is that upto a thousand yards, if your ‘Mk1’ eyeball is that good, you don’t need telescopic sights, or as Smithy would say, “Yer can shoot the pimples of a gnat’s arse”
‘Bloody typical’ Smithy thought as he took a first look at the position, ‘no sodding sentries, no bloody clue!’
All eight were in the vehicles, that just made his job a whole lot easier, it did, however, mean that there would be a lot more who wouldn’t live out the day, that couldn’t be avoided and there wasn’t room for complacency, he needed to get things right.
He had ten rounds in the magazine and fifty more in clips where they came from. One of the great things about the .303 is the ease with which you reload. The ammunition comes in five-round clips, all you do when you run out is open the bolt, grab a clip, slide into the slot just behind the sights and push, all five will slide in smoothly, then take the second clip and do the same, no need for changing mags and losing pieces as you fumble in the dark, less than a second later and you’re blasting away again, and the rate of fire is so good you can easily get 30 rounds a minute down accurately, and all from a bolt action that’s supposed to be obsolete!
“Fuel cap’s facing me!’ he couldn’t believe his luck, ‘makes it so sodding easy it’s almost an insult’ he aimed and let the first round off.
Not all ammunition is made equal; if you cut the end of a bullet with a file you create what’s known as a ‘dum dum’ bullet that literally flattens out as it hits a target and rips a body to shreds, get hit with a dum dum and you’re as good as dead, the blood loss will be so great, that’s why they’re illegal under the Geneva convention, but there are others that are legal, and just as deadly in certain situations.
Back in the days of the world wars, there wasn’t any such thing as night vision equipment, so they did something different, how about a bullet that shines a big red light all the way to the target? That ‘light’ is actually a small gunpowder charge that burns all the way, result, anything flammable that it touches ignites, and that can make a pretty good spectacle.
Most Lannies aren’t Diesel, they don’t need the extra grunt of a Diesel motor, not when you’ve got four and a half litres of pure strength under the bonnet, not that it would matter much.
They were less than two hundred yards away, and he had a clear line of sight, four rounds would cause mayhem, actually, he was confident he could do it in two but didn’t want to miss an opportunity for some target practice.
It was time, he’d been down behind a log getting ready, he swivelled up and lined the shot, took it and was back down before he heard the explosion, no one would want to get caught in the blast of a fuel tank exploding, the three men in the vehicle didn’t stand a chance, but the men in the second one were already running for cover.
One man had survived the first shot, that was because he’d just gotten out of the vehicle on the opposite side to go talk with someone in the back vehicle when the explosion happened. He was blown five feet into the trees, the others were all gone, burned to a crisp.
Half a second later he was up again and took the second shot, diving back down just as the first rounds of return fire began, they’d seen the flash of the rifle, it’s the one drawback of the .303, no flame eliminator like the modern assault rifles, if an enemy was half expecting fire they’d probably see you, and considering the carnage he caused with the first, that wasn’t surprising.
Smithy was already slithering along the ground in a snake-like manner as the second explosion went off, he heard another scream, that meant another was down, only ‘God knows’ how many more to go.
Bullets were pinging into and off the log now, a collection of small arms fire, three or four separate weapons, he only needed to move a couple of yards for his next part to work.
Ten whole seconds later something like a voice of authority began giving commands, Smithy knew what was coming and he was ready, more importantly, he wasn’t where they thought he was.
Two machine guns opened up, from the way they were stopping and starting Smithy guessed they were AKs, he’d have to deal with them, but later, if two were firing that meant three were coming his way!
They heard the mayhem from two miles away, it was the signal
Chapter 50
The tower wasn’t huge, but the top resembled the battlements seen on medieval castles, with a parapet and stone wall for archers back then to shoot from behind, it might only be ten feet above the roof of the house, but was perfect for giving a great view of the area and preventing anyone getting too close without being seen, Hene was up in the tower when things kicked off.
“Will ya listen to that” Hene spoke softly into the mike he was wearing, a throat mike, it picked up every syllable he uttered, no matter how low his voice was, he slowly moved so he could see the direction he’d heard the noise from, there was a pall of smoke rising from the east, and it wasn’t the kind from a dying fire, this was burning furiously.
“Just a wee intro” he recognised the Scottish accent, Mac and Jacko can’t have been far away. “Thought we’d let you know we’re here, Smithy’s enjoying himself at their expense. Now, where are those arseholes?” ever direct he brought them back to reality.
“Seven of ‘em approaching from the north” Hene replied as he ran for the stairs, he’d just reached it when he heard the ‘whoosh’ and explosion
“And three more coming from the east, they’re seriously considering turning back I’d say” Sam butted in, she was watching the video feed, “If you can get word to Smithy, tell him the two machine guns are about fifty feet in front of the second vehicle he hit, but they’re staying put for the moment”
“Roger that” Mac replied, “but I'm pretty sure he's got it under control” there was a couple of seconds pause, then came back on the line, “you two get to the bolt hole, we'll take it from here”
No one needed any encouragement. Hene was halfway there anyway, and Sam wasn’t far behind. Whoever was coming for them was close, less than a couple of hundred yards, they weren't on the cameras anymore, that meant it was time to leave.
“On my way” Hene reached for the trap door to the stone stairs, he got it open and was halfway down when the first pings of metal started hitting the stone walls, “Shit, we’re taking fire!” he shouted into the mike as he cleared the last step, Sam was already in the kitchen, trap door to the cellar open and ready to go, the fire was increasing.
Hene almost jumped the whole length of the kitchen, he wasn’t even using the steps, he just seemed to dive right down slamming the door shut as he landed half way down, reaching up he slid the bolts across that would hold the trap door closed, it wouldn’t deny whoever it was coming for long, just long enough for them to make it to the ‘bolt hole’
Sam went back up to make sure the trap door was closed properly, it wasn’t “the dam trap won’t seal!” She shouted into the mike as she she tried to pull the stones down to seal the entrance.
“Don’t worry about that!” Jacko responded harshly into the mike, “Get your arses moving into that room NOW, we’ll deal with the rats chasing you!” it was all part of the plan, he just didn’t want to tell them that.
Most of the ‘pings’ were coming from the door, not a chance of it giving way, not to small arms fire, it was two inches of solid English oak followed by half an inch of armour, it wasn’t giving way easily, then there was an eruption as the door shook in its hinges, it seemed to buckle and bend yet didn’t give way, “what the hell was that?” Sam shouted as Hene ran across the kitchen to her, she began to descend the steps two at a time, Hene would have to secure the trap door.
“I think they’ve got an RPG or something” he sang out as he slid the last bolt into place, “didn’t penetrate the door with the first one, but the next will!”
“They know they haven’t got much time before we get here” Jacko’s voice came on the line, “I’m guessing they don’t think we’ve made it here yet, but they know we aren’t far away, they’re coming in hard and fast, but RELAX we have this under control!”
‘If this is under control’ Sam was thinking, ‘I’d hate to see what you think out of control looks like!’ she reached out to her right, there was a small ledge there with a standard Army issue torch, nothing else was in the tunnel, no lights, nothing that could be used to light the way, just the torch, flicking the switch the torch came to life with a dull red glow, just enough for them to fumble their way into the tunnel to find the safe room.
“What the hell was this place?” Hene asked as they moved along, instead of the neat if somewhat damp concrete walls, maybe even with mould on them, they were feeling rough crumbling what almost felt like bricks, it felt like the tunnel was about to fall down.
“Sandstone” Sam replied, “same as the house, I’d guess this place was built about the same time, maybe as an escape route, all ‘six’ did was block the tunnel and shove a concrete bunker down here!” they got to the steel door of the bunker, it was shut and locked, not a problem as it was a combination lock, Sam found the pad and tapped in the six-digit combination, there was a faint click as the lock disengaged and the door slid open.
“I know what the damn stone is!” Hene replied, “But what’s with the tunnel and rooms underground?”
“It’s an old house” Sam replied, not really sure why the house would have the tunnel and the like, “I think it’s from the middle ages, you know! When it wasn’t all that healthy to be Catholic” she stopped for a moment, “if I remember my history, some people wanted to stay Catholic, and help hide the priests, so they built tunnels into their houses along with hiding places and the like, Joey said this place was a rich man’s house back then, maybe he had a place like that, wouldn’t take much to upgrade the place, just a new door and lock!”
After the dim tunnel, the light inside was almost painful to look at. The room was little more than a broom closet, but the door had six inches of steel that stopped anything coming at them from the tunnel, at the other end it looked like a concrete wall with the Sandstone tunnel walls running in between, barely wide enough for two to pass there was a ledge with a bed of sorts running down the length of the space, then again it wasn’t meant for long stays!
Jacko and Mac reached the edge of the wood just in time to see the second shot from the RPG rip the door clear from its hinges, they knew what the plan was, and they knew they only had seconds to get ready for it, two men headed around the back, and two others got ready for the front, three were heading inside while the front and back were guarded.
“I’ll take the back” Mac slowly moved from the crouch position, he turned and made eye contact, “you’ve got the door boss, that okay?” he was ready for a sprint
“See you inside” was all Jacko said as he began to creep forward, “One minute”
There are times when the most important weapon you have is stealth, this wasn’t one of those, it was important, but much more so was speed. More importantly now was now that Sam and Hene were in the tunnel they were effectively ‘blind’ and that meant that things had to happen super fast so that O’Flanagan and the Russians didn’t get too far from where they’d been known to be.
He was still inside the treeline, and they weren’t paying attention to it, he could see them, but they weren’t even looking for him, as soon as they got to the rear door he could see them preparing to go in, he guessed they were timing it with the team at the front, just as Jacko and he were using the entry to time their move.
The Russians were wearing body armour, and it looked as if it was top of the line, the stuff would stop a bullet from even a high powered weapon at close range, he was just weighing up the options when Jacko came on air, “Remember we need prisoners”
Normal SAS procedure was a thing called the ‘double tap’ where they shot for the torso first and then went in with a headshot to make sure the target was dead, that worked for 90% of operations, but there were circumstances where the double tap wasn’t a good idea, that was the ‘suicide bomber’.
The thing with the suicide bomber is you have to stop them pressing the detonator button, and even a jerk reaction from a kill shot can set them off, the only way is to make sure the spine is snapped before it has chance to give the command, and that means a ‘headshot’ and in particular one to the base of the skull, right where the spine connects with the brain.
Jacko had just ruled all that out, they’d have to improvise, and that meant using the Russians body armour against them, that was when he realized the challenge they had.
The speed with which a bullet or round travels when it leaves the barrel is called the velocity of the weapon, and they can be anything from two hundred yards per second for low-velocity weapons to the fastest at over one thousand yards per second, literally twice the speed of sound for the highest velocity weapons.
Body armour stops most weapons from penetrating the body, but you’ll never stop the velocity and something that hits you at even two hundred yards a second is going to literally ‘kick the crap’ out of you, and the Commando was about halfway at 700 yards a second, it would feel like you’d been hit with a sledgehammer at full swing.
He waited for the bang of the flashbangs.
They entered the house firing in both directions, they didn’t have time for trying to identify where the targets might be, not that it mattered as Serkhov wanted everyone here killed, three seconds later the shots stopped as they ran out of ammunition in those mags.
“There’s no one here” the voice to his right shouted as he slapped a fresh magazine on, they’d half expected that and had both exits they knew of covered, there was no escape.
“You” he pointed to the man on his right, “back room, I’ll take the stairs” he headed for the stairs to the next floor.
“I’ll check for exits,” the third man, the youngest in the group said as he began checking for windows, the ones they saw weren’t large, and sealed, no one had gotten out of them.
“Igor, come in” O’Flanagan called into the radio as he moved up the stairs, there was no reply, ‘don’t tell me the stupid basta
rd’s gone and left us!’ was his first thought. “Igor, WERE ARE YOU?” he demanded as he reached the top of the stairs, reaching down he took a stun grenade, pulled the pin and tossed the grenade onto the landing and ducked waiting for the bang.
As soon as the bang went off he was up and firing, coming over the top of the landing spraying bullets everywhere ricochets flying in all directions, two actually hit the body armour and damn well hurt, but nothing else, no one there, just furniture with holes in where the bullets had gone clean through. ‘But where the hell was Igor? He should have called back, O’Flanagan didn’t like that, he might just have to teach the stupid prick a lesson he isn’t going to forget in a hurry. All hell was about to break loose, he just wasn’t aware he’d be on the receiving end!
Chapter 51
Three men were running to where Smithy had been, he was only ten feet to the side, but far enough they couldn’t see where he was, they were grouped pretty close together, but the .303 would be too slow to take all of them, he laid it down and reached for the Glock.
The Glock pistol has a conventional magazine of seventeen rounds, powerful enough to do serious damage at close range, and is fully automatic it fires just as fast as he could pull the trigger, he just couldn’t keep the trigger pressed as it would only fire the one shot.
The two AKs had moved slightly, so that they could give covering fire as the men approached, the men had been steadily approaching using ‘fire and maneuver’ to keep Smithy’s head down, normally he’d be returning fire to ‘win the firefight’ but they outnumbered him, straightforward tactics weren’t going to win this fight.
Scorpion's Vengeance Page 24