The Zombie Terror War Series (Vol. 6): Where The Vultures Gather

by Spell, David

  “Please, my friends, come work with me,” the older man had said, shaking their hands and slipping them each another thousand dollars. “Let’s just call it a signing bonus,” he had laughed.

  Now, they moved quickly but quietly through the thick forest. Part of their Special Forces training had been conducted in similar terrain around Fort Bragg, North Carolina. United States Army SF advisors had made them feel welcome as the Mexicans trained alongside the American Special Forces candidates. They had received the same instruction that the Green Berets received, each man being presented with one of the coveted berets upon their graduation. Now they were returning to the United States to kill some gringos.

  The former Mexican SF soldiers knew that El Lobo and the other three cartel soldiers would probably die. The other teams’ job was to attack the main entrance of the hospital, drawing the security forces to defend the front doors. The cartel warriors might even kill some of the security unit before being eliminated. This frontal attack was scheduled to start at 0300 hours and would allow the two American-trained SF killers to enter from the rear, kill the gringo federale’s family and anyone else who got in their way, and then escape.

  There was no question that Gonzalez and the other three soldiers were as tough as any in the cartel. At the same time, the Americans would have numbers and better training on their side. Sure, the super drug that El Lobo had offered Pablo and Nazario would delay their deaths, but it did not make them invincible. Neither of the two SF men had taken a puff of the cocaine/PCP mixture, preferring to stay clearheaded. They did not consider themselves expendable and planned on completing their mission in the hospital and then making their escape.

  Nazario was the better land navigator, walking point, his American manufactured NVGs pulled down over his eyes, a handheld GPS device in his hand. Pablo stayed five yards to his rear, offset to the left, his NVGs also in place on his face. The GPS indicated that the forest would end in half a kilometer where they would have to cross a two-lane road. From there, it was just a few hundred meters more through the woods, and then a three-block walk to the hospital.

  Both men felt the familiar tingle of adrenaline as they pushed towards their objective, just as they had done dozens of times before. Slip in undetected, take out their targets, and disappear back into the forest. Up to this point, they had not heard anything to indicate that they had been detected. Maybe all the gringos were asleep.

  The QRF and Colonel Jefferson had shown up within minutes of Andy and Josh leaving the CP. Gonzalez and Whitehead quickly brought Jefferson up-to-speed, sharing Fleming’s suggestion of how to best use the QRF. The colonel agreed, sending the eight heavily armed MPs to confront the four invaders approaching from the east. Four others were sent to the parking lot where Josh and Andy had deployed, close enough to back up the federal officers if they needed it.

  Fleming drove to the base’s admin building with the Suburban’s lights off, parking on the front side of the structure. The two men did a quick equipment check, making sure their radios and NVGs were working. They quietly chambered rounds in their M4s, setting the selector on ‘Safe.’ Andy leaned in and whispered to his comrade.

  “Gonzalez is going to guide us in over the air. Let me handle the radio traffic unless it’s an absolute emergency. I’ll take point and find us a spot where we can set up and take these two down. And just between you and me, I don’t really care if we take them alive or not. You ready?”

  “Let’s do it,” Josh said, softly. “Following you.”

  For Matthews, the nerves were finally gone. Now that the op had started and they were in motion, he was good-to-go. He had done this so many times before. Well, maybe not exactly this, he thought, but he had lost count of how many times his SWAT assault element had gone into a building, or even searched wooded areas like this for murderers, armed robbers, or violent gang members. You never knew what you were going to find.

  As a street cop and as a SWAT cop, the only actual shootings Josh had been involved in were with zombies. He had lost count of how many Zs he had put down, but in his dealings with armed living people, either one of his teammates had made the shot or the bad guy had given up before Matthews had pulled the trigger.

  They hurried around the three-story building and paused at the wood line.

  “Fleming to Gonz. You got us?” he asked, quietly.

  “I got you,” the voice instantly responded in their earpieces. “Step off at your one o’clock and get moving. There’s a road they’re going to have to cross. It might be the place to set up. It’s a few hundred meters ahead.”

  “How far away are the bad guys?”

  “They’re moving like pros, not rushing. I estimate a little over a click from you.”

  “Fleming, clear and out.”

  In seconds, the two federal officers were moving through thick underbrush, focusing on speed. They would slow down and get quiet later. For the moment, they needed to cover almost half a kilometer as quickly as they could. The Fall temperatures were cool but not cold. In minutes, however, both men were sweating from their exertion. Gonzalez gave occasional course directions as he watched the drone feed.

  “Gonzalez to Fleming. Slow down, amigo. You’re almost to the two-lane. The bad guys are heading straight towards you, maybe three hundred meters from the road.”

  Andy clicked his response rather than saying anything, looking for a place to position the two of them. They found themselves on a slight ridge that sloped down to the roadway, providing a good vantage point to cover the opposite side of the street. Fleming positioned Matthews ten yards down from him and then checked in with Gonzalez.

  “Talk to me, Gonz,” he whispered, glancing at his watch, 0240 hours.

  “They slowed way down, moving like they’ve done this before. They’re just fifty meters in front of you, approaching the street.”

  Matthews heard Fleming click his acknowledgement, not wanting to speak with the intruders so close. Josh scanned the forest on the other side of Pohick Road, the scene in front of him an unnatural shade of green through the night vision goggles. He quietly slipped the selector switch on his rifle to ‘Auto,’ pulling the stock into his shoulder, his gloved finger outside the trigger guard.

  Nazario held up a fist, sinking slowly to a crouch. The woods opened up just a few yards in front of him. Pablo crouched beside him, his mouth next to his partner’s ear.

  “What do you think?”

  “I don’t like being so exposed when we cross the road but we don’t have any choice. Plus, everything’s quiet. I think we’re taking the gringos completely by surprise.”

  “Bueno,” whispered Pablo. “I’ll go first. You cover me and then I’ll cover you. We need to make up some time. If El Lobo hasn’t gotten lost, they should be launching their attack in fifteen minutes. I’ll check in with him over the radio when we get across the street.”

  Andy and Josh watched the figure in dark clothing exit the woods on the opposite side of the road. He was holding an M4 in a low ready position and also appeared to be wearing NVGs from his helmet. The figure glanced to his rear and then started a crouch walk across the empty street, his rifle locked into his shoulder, up and ready, the muzzle moving as he scanned the area in front of him.

  When the intruder was in the middle of the street gunfire erupted from the direction of the hospital. In the quiet night, the sound carried, sounding as if it was right behind them. The armed man paused, hesitating for just a second in the middle of the street, the sounds of the gunfight startling him.

  Fleming had hoped to catch both gunmen in the open but the unexpected shootout from behind them altered their plans and he raised his rifle, squeezing the trigger. Three of his four round burst hit flesh, catching Pablo in the throat and face. The cartel gunman spun and fell onto his back on the double-yellow line of the roadway.

  Nazario had also been surprised by the eruption of gunfire. El Lobo was either attacking early or had been detected by base security. The sound of
gunshots much closer, however, was his bigger concern, especially as he saw Pablo go down. Nazario caught a glimpse of a muzzle flash across the street and fired a long full-auto burst in that direction from his own position five yards inside the tree line. He quickly stood to move, having been taught by the American SF soldiers not to stay stationary in a gunfight.

  Sudden return fire, however, converged on his location as he turned to run. Clearly, their cover was blown and it was time to leave. El Lobo and his team were in a gun fight. Pablo was down and not moving. It was time for Nazario to make his getaway. Suddenly, something slammed into the back plate of his body armor driving the breath from his lungs. A second impact knocked his right leg out from under him, sending the cartel soldier face first into the hard ground, writhing in pain.

  “Contact,” Fleming spoke calmly into the radio. “One down in the middle of the road. Do you still have eyes on the other tango, Gonz?”

  After Andy had shot the first bad guy, an explosion of return gunfire had forced him to duck down, the bullets impacting the ground and trees around him. At the same time, he heard Josh’s rifle fire two bursts towards the remaining gunman’s muzzle flash.

  “Tango number two is down, as well,” Gonzalez answered after a moment, staring at the infrared video from the drone feed. “Maybe fifteen meters inside the wood line. He appears to still be alive if you guys want to go check him. The security forces are in contact, as well.”

  Two minutes later, Josh and Andy were standing over a groaning Nazario. Fleming covered the gunman with his M4 while Matthews moved in to disarm, handcuff, and search him. The leg wound was pumping blood out at an alarming rate. Josh quickly cinched a tourniquet around the gangsters thigh and tightened it down, the pain causing the Mexican to scream.

  After the suspect was secured, Andy moved back to the roadway to check the status on the perp that he had shot. One round had punctured his throat, while two additional rounds had punched into his face, an ever-growing pool of blood around the dead man’s head. Gunshots, both single-fire and fully automatic continued fill the night air, the other shootout still ongoing. Andy suppressed the urge to rush back over there, knowing they had to secure the scene where they were. After a few more minutes, however, silence returned to the military base.

  “Fleming to Gonzalez. The second gunman is down but alive. Request an ambulance. Tango number one is KIA.”

  “I’m clear. Be advised the QRF had contact with the other four intruders. They’re all down. Two KIA, two WIA. Two minor wounds to the QRF. The hospital is still secure.”

  “Fleming clear. Thanks, Gonz,” Andy replied, relief sweeping over him.

  Andy returned to Josh’s side, watching him continue to administer first-aid to the wounded man, applying a combat gauze to the large exit hole on the front of his thigh in an attempt to start the blood clotting process.

  “Good shooting, rookie. I thought we were going to lose this one in the forest.”

  Matthews shrugged, inwardly pleased that Fleming was happy with his performance. “Thanks. I just sighted in on the muzzle flash and sprayed the area.”

  “That’ll work,” Andy nodded. “And so will you.”

  A few minutes later, the sound of a diesel engine approached them.

  “Gonzalez to Fleming. Your backup team is pulling up. Don’t shoot them! They can take your prisoner to the hospital.”

  A humvee slowed and stopped fifty yards up from Andy and Josh’s position. The former MARSOC warrior turned on his flashlight and waved them in. The four soldiers quickly loaded up the wounded man, not concerned with being gentle. The assassin had lost consciousness from the loss of blood by the time the hummer sped off. Fleming and Matthew’s would stay put until others came and removed the dead body from the roadway.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  A Needle in a Haystack

  Marriott Hotel, Los Angeles, Saturday, 0015 hours

  Chuck had just gotten back to the hotel, showered, and collapsed into bed when Elizabeth had called him. She was safe, she had assured him, but the sound of gunfire had come from different locations around the base for about ten minutes. She had tried to call Andy but his phone had gone straight to voicemail.

  McCain was surprised at how calm his wife sounded over the phone. Of course, she and the other two women were armed and four big ex-spec ops security contractors were stationed outside their residence. He had spent a lot of time with Beth, developing her weapons handling skills and teaching her to shoot in the base firing range. That confidence had gone a long way towards empowering her to protect herself in a crisis.

  After disconnecting with Beth, he was just about to try Fleming himself when his phone vibrated with an incoming call from his team member.

  “Andy, what the hell’s going on over there? I just got off the phone with Beth.”

  “Yeah, those cartel pukes are persistent, I’ll give them that!”

  Fleming quickly recounted what had happened. He and Matthews were on their way back to the CP. Gonzalez had just updated him via radio that one of the other intruders had died from his wounds before they could get the ambulance to them. At the moment, the two remaining wounded gunmen were at to the hospital with serious injuries. Four others were dead.

  “I’ll give you a better sitrep in a little while. For now, I just wanted to let you know that we got all the bad guys, as far as we know. The drone’s FLIR is clear for the moment.”

  “Okay, thanks, buddy. I’ll be waiting to hear from you. I’ll call Beth back and let her know that everything is under control.”

  “Sounds good. And Chuck? Great call bringing Matthews on board. He handled himself like a pro out there. I know he’s a SWAT guy and all but I threw him into the deep end tonight. There was no mission prep, just ‘let’s go get some bad guys in a dark forest.’ He made good shots on one of the two we were going after. The guy was running through the woods, trying to get away and Josh tagged him twice, once square in the back on his body armor and another round in the back of his leg. It was great shooting.”

  “Glad to hear it. Call me back as quick as you know more.”

  McCain did a video call with his wife, assuring her that everything was under control and telling her what Andy had told him. The big man then laid down, knowing that he needed to get some sleep. Two hours later, Fleming called him back.

  “McCain,” he answered, groggily.

  “Sorry, Chuck, but I figured you would want an update.”

  “Definitely,” he yawned, turning on a small lamp, sitting up, and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “What’ve you got?”

  “Six bad guys. Four came through the woods to the east of the base and the two Matthews and I took out came from the west. The QRF confronted the first group just as they came out of the forest a couple of blocks from the hospital. Two of the MPs were wounded, but nothing serious. Of the first four bad guys, three are KIA. The fourth is still in surgery but should live. All four of them had the ‘Tijuana’ tattoo on the inside of their right arms.

  “The other two that we dealt with are different. No tattoos and their gear was top notch. They had body armor, helmets, the latest NVGs, and newer M4s. Gonz watched them moving on the drone feed and said they moved like pros through the forest. Everything inside of me is screaming military. Nobody in the other group had any armor and their weapons were all older.”

  “So what’s our status there now?”

  “The MPs fingerprinted everybody, living and dead, and sent them off, hoping for some kind of ID. The one Josh shot is in bad shape. That round shattered the femur in his right leg and he lost a lot of blood. If Matthews hadn’t got that tourniquet on him as quick as he did, that scumbag would be dead, too. As it is, he’ll probably lose the leg.

  “The other wounded guy was hit multiple times and the doctors are working on him. It might be several days, though, before the Army investigators can interview either one of them. I know you had wanted us out there in LA by Monday…”

 
; “No, I think it’s better that you two stay there for a couple more days. Let’s see if those prints come back. I can’t imagine the cartel trying again but who knows? Great work, Andy! I feel so much better knowing you and Josh are there, along with Kevin’s guys.”

  San Bernardino, California, Saturday, 0300 hours

  Omer and his team had had another good practice run, going a little deeper into the city this time, picking out several areas where they could do the most damage. At the same time, Deniz did not want to get trapped in LA’s legendary traffic, preferring to attack away from the center of the city. If everything went according to plan, though, central Los Angeles would soon feel the fury of Allah’s wrath.

  The plan now was for everyone to sleep. They had stopped at a twenty-four grocery store and Marquette had purchased a bag of food to last them through the day. Omer would make sure that each man did his prayers when they woke up and Samer would read to them from the Koran. In the afternoon, they would have another mission briefing. After that, Deniz would encourage everyone to take a nap and tonight, they would make history.

  FBI Los Angeles Division, Saturday, 0930 hours

  Nothing solid had come in during the night in regards to Omer Deniz or his team. McCain sat at his desk, sipping coffee and looking over several police reports of sightings of Deniz, Ali, Walters, or Davis. The reports had all turned out to be false; cases of mistaken identity. The local and cable new channels continued to put the four men’s photos up and Chuck hoped that someone might have contact with them. They needed a break in the case.

  Both CDC and HRT agents sat in the briefing room, talking with Scotty and Eric, looking over maps of LA. They would all be heading out momentarily to cruise the city. They would break for some rest in the early afternoon and then head back out in the evening.