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Operation Freedom

Page 3

by E. G. Michaels


  He casually felt his vest and pants pockets and they were comfortably packed with additional magazines and ammo. Like the rest of his men, he had a pair of flash-bangs and frags. At the last minute, he tossed an additional box of ammo for each of his weapons, a pry bar, and spare batteries into his backpack. It was a lot of extra weight to carry, but nobody in the middle of a firefight ever complained about having too much ammunition or replacement batteries for their optic sights. Especially when the hostiles coming at you were trying to eat your face.

  Black glanced out the window. Both MRAPs had weaved in and out of the abandoned vehicles like professional obstacle course racers might do. Black sat back and shut his eyes to take a quick combat nap. He was just settling into a comfortable slumber when suddenly all hell broke loose.

  11 Hours 10 Minutes Until The Bombs Fall

  Black was instantly jolted awake when Zimmer hit the MRAP's brakes. Out of the corner of his eye, Black saw a school bus, which seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. He watched in horror as the bus swerved to avoid a Reaper that was feeding in the middle of the road. The driver overcompensated, hit the brakes hard, and promptly locked the wheels. The bus slid sideways and slammed into the intersection of two wrecked cars. There was an unmistakable sound of metal crunching, followed by a chorus of screams.

  A voice broke over the command set. “Stop the MRAPs now,” Atkins ordered. “There's a bunch of kids on that bus.”

  “Do it,” Black told Zimmer. He activated his comms. “Unscheduled stop. Everybody out and ready to engage.”

  Atkins spoke up over the team's comm channel. “Black, I want you and your men to secure the perimeter around our vehicles,” he said. “Keep our asses clear of unwanted company.”

  “Copy that,” Black replied. “You heard him, boys. Let's go.”

  The Bradley Team dismounted and quickly formed a protective ring around the MRAPs. Black was stationed near the front of his vehicle and watched as Atkins and his Andy Team approached the bus. Black glanced to his right and saw one of his men, Gimble, standing in a low ready position. There was an unmistakable look of extreme pain on the younger man's face.

  Black tapped the group intercom system. “Gimble, what's wrong?” he asked.

  “My arm. I think it's broken, sir.”

  “How the hell did that happen? Weren't you secured in your seat?”

  “I was, but then I unbuckled for just a moment to get something out of my pack. Next thing I know I'm flying across the vehicle, hitting the wall and then the floor. All I know is my arm isn't working right, sir.”

  “Gimble, hold on your position,” Black said. “Hawkins, report.”

  “Here, sir.”

  “I need you to switch spots with Spags and then check Gimble's arm. Gimble, you are eyes and ears for both of you until he's done treating you. Do you understand me?”

  “Loud and clear, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  “No problem. Just keep your eyes open and your head on a swivel.”

  Black watched as Atkins used a series of hand movements to command his men. Alvarez and Collins moved towards the driver's side of the bus. There was a Reaper that had been feeding, and it lifted its head up to see what was disturbing its meal. Black looked closer at the monster. Its skin had become almost completely covered with thick hair. The creature's mouth opened to snarl at the person who had the audacity to interrupt its meal. Collins didn't give it a chance to scream out loud before he fired his shotgun and nailed the Reaper in the head. The creature immediately dropped and a pool of blood started forming underneath it.

  The sound of the shot echoed loudly on the city street. Diaz and Graves approached the passenger side with Keane and Atkins moving towards the rear of the bus.

  Collins looked in the driver's side window. “Driver's not responsive,” he said. “Somebody needs to get those kids to quiet down before we get unwanted company.”

  “Lieutenant, I got a problem,” Diaz said. “I can't get the doors open.”

  “Why the hell not?” Atkins demanded.

  “This wrecked car is too close,” Diaz replied. “The bus doors swing out and there's not enough space for them to open. I can try to breach the door and knock it into the bus.”

  “Negative. We need to keep a low noise profile, and any debris from the door could hit the children. Keane, open the rear door so we can extract the civilians,” Atkins ordered. He motioned towards Diaz and Graves. “You there.”

  “Me?” Diaz asked, pointing to himself.

  “Yes, you.”

  “I'm Diaz.”

  “Right, sorry. Diaz, tap on the door and try to get the driver's attention,” Atkins said. He pointed to another squad member. “And you-”

  “Graves,” the man replied.

  “Okay, Graves. Cover Diaz and sound out if you need help.”

  The two men went into action.

  A minute later, Diaz called back. “I can see the driver through the door,” he said. “A priest. No visible injuries, but he's not moving. Maybe he had a heart attack or a stroke while driving?”

  “Keane, why the hell isn't that door open yet?” Atkins demanded.

  “I think it's stuck,” Keane said. “Either that or it's been jammed from the inside.”

  “Contacts,” Alvarez called out. “I got three coming towards us from eleven o'clock.”

  “Incoming,” Graves said. “Four monsters enroute.”

  “Atkins, do you want us to engage?” Black asked.

  “Negative,” Atkins replied. “Keep the MRAPs secure and cover our sixes. Diaz, fall back and join Collins to repel invaders. Come on Keane, get that fucking door open.”

  “I'm working on it,” Keane said. He was trying to force a prybar into the edge of the door. “The damn thing isn't budging.”

  “Then shoot the hinges,” Atkins yelled.

  “I can't. The kids would get hit by the pellets or shrapnel.”

  Atkins banged on the door. “Come on kids, open the damn door already.”

  The kids continued to scream hysterically and move around the interior of the bus. None of them moved towards opening the door.

  “Boss, I got two monsters in my sights. Two hundred yards out and still headed in our direction,” Nico said. “Permission to engage.”

  “Negative,” Black said. “Give them a chance to lose interest and move on.”

  “Got an ugly fucker at six o'clock,” Spags said coolly as he sighted through his scope. “Give the word and I'll paint the wall behind them with their brains.”

  “Two more monsters at ten o'clock,” Alvarez said as his voice started to crack. “I got five incoming. Somebody get those fucking kids out of there already.”

  “Sir, permission to engage,” Black said. “If we wait much longer, we could be overrun.”

  “Negative. Hold the line and cover our backs,” Atkins said. “Keane, keep trying to get that fucking door open. Everybody else take cover and get ready to fire if any of those things attack.”

  “Tell them to hurry the hell up, sir,” Spags said as he looked through his scope. “I got two more that just popped out of a building. Range is one hundred fifty yards from my location.”

  Black watched as Atkins moved to take cover behind a nearby parked car, leaving Keane struggling with the stuck door by himself. The lieutenant was halfway to his intended cover when the first sound of new gunfire broke out.

  11 Hours 5 Minutes Until The Bombs Fall

  “Who the fuck fired? Answer me,” Atkins screamed from behind the car. There was a look of sheer panic on the commander's face.

  “Incoming,” Collins said before opening fire on the three Reapers charging towards him.

  “We got company,” Graves shouted. “I got multiple contacts.” He laid down a layer of suppressing fire, which cut the legs out from four incoming monsters.

  “Keane, get that fucking door open and get those kids out of there,” Black shouted over the comms. “We're running out of time.”

 
“What do you think I've been trying to do,” Keane yelled back. “The fucking thing is jammed!”

  Black looked at Atkins. The man looked shell-shocked. Black swung into action. He moved towards the driver's side of the bus.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Black saw the commander do a double take. “Black, what the hell are you doing? You are supposed to cover our sixes,” he shouted.

  “Alvarez, take out that window,” Black said. “Get your ass through the window and unjam the exit door now!”

  “Yes sir,” Alvarez replied. At 5'10” with a runner's build, he was the smallest and thinnest man on the squad. If anyone could shimmy through a window easily, he was the most likely one. Black watched as Alvarez slammed the butt end of his rifle into the driver's window. There was the sound of glass breaking as the window gave way. He used his rifle to clear the rest of glass fragments out of the frame.

  Black hauled ass towards Alvarez's location. Once there, Black cupped his hands. Alvarez put his foot into Black's hands, used it to get a boost up, and then pulled himself through the open window. Black saw his man push past the unresponsive priest and start working his way towards the back of the bus.

  “We got incoming,” Nico yelled over the comms. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Take them down,” Black replied. “Aim for their heads.”

  “About fucking time,” Spags grumbled. He sighted on a Reaper that was about ninety yards away and fired, scoring a perfect headshot.

  A moment later, Alvarez's voice rang out over the comm system. “Boss, there's a bar jammed into the handle,” he said. “I'm trying to move it, but it's not budging.”

  “Keane, haul ass and get a winch line from one of the MRAPs,” Black said. “Alvarez, break the glass on the door and find something that you can attach the winch line to. I want that fucking door pulled off the bus in the next minute.”

  “On it,” Keane yelled as he ran towards the closest SWAT vehicle. Black saw the butt end of Alvarez's rifle smash into the door's window. The first blow left a long crack in the glass. The second blow knocked a foot-wide jagged hole in the middle.

  “Winch line is coming in,” Keane said in a ragged breath. He started feeding it through the hole and Alvarez snatched the line immediately. With a well-practiced motion, the man wrapped the steel cable in and around the interior door's metal frame. At the same time, Keane ran back to the winch motor, turned, and waited for his partner's visual cue.

  “Let it rip,” Alvarez yelled as he made a whipping motion with his hand.

  Keane triggered the winch's motor and the machine started pulling the steel cable tighter. As the motor relentlessly turned, there was a gradual groan from the bus's door and then a loud tearing noise as the hinges bent and then finally broke. The door landed on the ground with a loud boom.

  There was a blood-curdling scream over the comms and then Collins yelled, “Damn it, Diaz is down. I need help now.”

  “Hang in there, Collins,” Black replied as he charged towards his man's last known location. “I'm coming up from behind you.”

  Black fired twice, kneecapping a Reaper who was charging towards Collins's blindside. Collins pivoted towards the crippled monster and unleashed a trio of bullets that obliterated its face.

  “Alvarez, get those kids off the bus,” Black yelled. “Keane, get them loaded into MRAP 1 and then back-up Collins and Graves. Alvarez, I need you up here right away. Atkins, do you copy?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Sir, I need you to fall back and help Keane load the civilians. After that, can you help Spags and Nico on rear guard?”

  “Why don't you do it?”

  “Negative. Diaz is gone and we got multiple hostiles incoming,” Black said. “If I leave right now, we may be over-run.” There was a loud bang and Black turned to face the source of the noise. He saw a Reaper had landed on the corner of a nearby wrecked Civic. The monster looked like a sick experiment that had gone terribly wrong. Black didn't hesitate to unload half-dozen rounds into the approaching creature. Each shot flew true and one of the bullets delivered a final killing blow that dropped the Reaper fifteen feet away.

  “Coming up on your five, boss,” Alvarez said over the comms. “I've got the firing zone to your left.”

  “Copy that,” Black replied as he took a step towards his right.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Black saw Graves fire at a charging Reaper twice. The first shot missed. The second one struck the monster center mass but failed to slow it down. Graves fired two more shots, striking the torso of the charging monster again, but the Reaper kept moving forward.

  Black watched in horror as the creature tackled Graves. As the man fell backwards, he unleashed a burst of bullets that stitched an errant path towards Keane. One of the bullets struck the unsuspecting man in the calf. Keane immediately screamed and clutched his leg.

  Black fired a double-tap into the head of the Reaper nearest to Keane and then swung his rifle back towards Graves in time to see two more monsters pouncing on the fallen man. One of the monsters bit into Graves’s neck and there was an immediate gush of blood. Black fired two head shots into each Reaper, but it was too late. One look at the fallen man and Black knew Graves was dead. He turned his attention back to Keane, who was trying to stem the flow of blood from his leg while still firing his rifle one-handed.

  “Keane, hold on,” Black shouted. “Alvarez and Collins, I gotta help Keane. Cover me.” He rushed towards his bleeding team member, unleashing a barrage of bullets, which took out the legs of three charging Reapers. It wouldn't kill them, but it would slow them down enough that Keane could finish them with a well-aimed shots of his own. Black watched as his man did exactly that and the monsters' heads exploded like a series of breaking bloody balloons.

  “Keane, let me bind your leg,” Black said as he pulled out a quick clot bandage from his pack. “Shoot anything that comes near us or we're both dead.”

  “You got it, Sarge,” the man said through gritted teeth.

  Black opened the quick clot package and pulled out the bandage.

  “Looks like the bullet went through and through,” he said. “I'm going to pack the wound. This might hurt a little.” He pushed the bandage directly into the wound as Keane howled in pain. Black whipped out a roll of tape and wrapped the wound tightly.

  “Done. Try not to move your leg too much,” Black said. “It'll hold for now, but we gotta get you to a doctor.”

  “You think we're gonna find one of those out here, boss? 'Cause I don't,” Keane yelled. He swung his rifle to his left and double-tapped a charging monster in the throat, stopping it dead in its tracks. “Reloading.”

  “Covering,” Black said. He swung his rifle up, sighted on a monster charging towards Keane's blind side, and shot it directly in the eye.

  “Collins and Keane, fall back to the rear corners of the bus. Alvarez and I will cover you. Sound out when you get to the corners and then we will face back while you cover us.”

  “Rear guard is clear, boss,” Nico said. “I recommend we move towards you to give support.”

  “Negative,” Black said. “We're working our way back to you.”

  “Hostiles are down,” Collins said. “I'm reloading.”

  Black scanned the area in front of him and saw it was clear too. “No contacts here either. Everybody sound out.”

  “Clear,” Hawkins said.

  “Area is Reaper-free,” Nico said. “Thank God.”

  “Clear,” Spags replied. “And Gimble is still ugly as hell.”

  “Fuck you Spags,” Gimble said through gritted teeth. “If my arm wasn't hurt, I'd kick your ass.”

  “Settle down, boys,” Black warned. “I need everybody to keep their shit together and their heads on a swivel. I want Collins, Alvarez, Nico, and Spags in overwatch positions. The rest of you make sure all of the civilians are secure and inside the MRAPs. Make it happen pronto.”

  10 Hours 55 Minutes Until The Bombs Fall

 
A few minutes later, the civilians had been secured in Atkins's MRAP. Black and Atkins were standing next to it trying to decide what they should do next.

  “So much for this mission being smooth as silk,” Black quipped. “With all due respect, what the hell are we going to do with all of these kids?”

  “I don't think we have much in the way of options right now,” Atkins admitted. “I have two injured men. I just lost Diaz and Graves extracting the civilians. It's not like I can count on any of these kids to be handy with a gun.”

  “Wait a minute. Your team? These are my men. I've spent months training, sweating, and bleeding with them, not you.”

  “Don't turn this into a pissing match,” Atkins snapped. “I'm talking about the men who were in the MRAP with me. Alvarez and Collins are the only ones I have left.”

  “Well, that's a fucking problem. We haven't even gotten to the mission site and we've already lost two men.”

  “Tell me something I don't know. Andy Team has got two healthy shooters, Keane has a fresh leg wound, and then there's me who was fucking retired until this shit storm dropped on us,” Atkins said. He paused for a minute before continuing. “I hate fucking surprises. Absolutely hate them. Eight kids and they only had the priest with them. From what your man Hawkins is telling me, the guy just had a heart attack behind the wheel. Talk about shitty timing.”

  “What the hell were they doing out here?”

  “Same as anyone would be,” Atkins said. “According to the Fred Flintstone-looking kid, they were hiding in a church. Thought they were safe until the building was overrun by the Reapers. The old priest barely got them out of there alive. If he hadn't remembered the church owned a bus, then they wouldn't have stood a chance of escaping.”

 

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