Infiltrator

by Bob Blink

  Glen was only partway across the hallway when one of the bad guys suddenly stepped in the open and started to raise his weapon with the intent of unleashing a string of rounds to cut him down. Without hesitation, Glen raised the shiny revolver which he'd been carrying in his hand as they came down the stairs. He looked like he was on the range as he took aim, and fired the first round. The blast was horrific, the small barrel unable to contain the blast of the powerful .357 round. A ball of fire spit from the barrel. Without hesitation, Glen fired again, and then, still composed, a third time. The shots came quickly, and Mark could envision him blasting soda cans out in the country, walking them out of range with his shots. He was far better than he had implied, but that was often the case with those who really knew how to shoot.

  But this was a combat situation, and the man was exposed. Mark thought of warning him, but there was little chance his words would be heard after three ear piecing blasts from the little gun. He also thought conservation of ammo should be considered, but Glen was focused on his adversary. The little gun only held a handful of cartridges, and probably wasn't fast to reload.

  The Major's marksmanship was every bit as good as his poise. The first shot struck the intruder in the right hip, spinning him slightly, and ruining any chance he had of getting off an immediate return shot. The second was dead center in the chest, killing the man, but even before he could drop, Glen's third round struck a mere two inches to the left of the previous hit, ensuring the kill.

  Glen then advanced toward the fallen killer, holstering his weapon as he approached. Once he reached the body, he calmly picked up the intruder's fallen MP5, and relieved the body of the two magazines he could see. He also took a moment to pull out a cell phone and snap of picture of the body. As he turned, the wall to his left erupted spitting plaster and other debris as a string of rounds stitched across the surface, a mere nine inches from where Glen was standing. Brave as he was, he was smart enough to duck as he hurried back to join the others.

  "You have brass balls," Mark said when the Air Force Officer joined them.

  Glen grinned, sensing Mark's comment more than actually hearing it. His ears were still ringing from his shots.

  "I got one of the bastards. The other one was firing blind. I could see that he didn't have the angle to shoot at me, but he came damn close. Closer than I thought he could come."

  He displayed the MP5 happily, checking the magazine verifying his earlier comments that he'd had some experience with the weapon sometime in the past.

  "This is more suited to our situation," he said, settling down next to the other two who were still armed with their handguns.

  "Your phone?" Mark asked, wondering if that was how they'd been tracked.

  "Glen's hearing must be improving because he replied, "No SIM. I powered it so I could use a couple of the Apps. Decided as fast as these guys disappear, I wanted a picture of the one I killed. Now we have some proof if something happens to these guys like it did to Johnson."

  Their conversation was interrupted when Ed shouted their way.

  "I could use some help over here if you are done resting," he said.

  Jessie grinned, and indicated the others should follow her.

  Inside the room they couldn't been seen by the shooters in the other rooms, but a burst through the walls could easily cut them down if they were heard moving around. Staying low, and moving with a minimum of sound, she hurried over to where Ed was crouched down behind the large stone fireplace, about the only place in the room that was somewhat immune to random fire that was periodically being sent into the area. The enemy could have probably gotten Ed had they rushed his position, but it would have been a costly move. Mark had the distinct feeling that their enemy had underestimated the force they were likely to encounter, and might have been expecting just the four of them, although that made little sense if they'd somehow tailed the group here.

  Mark noted the fireplace hadn't been entirely effective in protecting the man. Ed was bleeding, his left sleeve soaked with red blood. He was holding a very short-barreled AR style rifle, with a thick suppressor tube on the end. It wasn't an M4 as Mark would have expected.

  Ed noted his glance and said, "Wandering off from the Agency with the full automatic version isn't as simple as you might think. There is a lot of paperwork and signatures involved. They keep a close eye on the M4s. This is my own. Anyone who's competent is more than effectively equipped with a semi-auto."

  Mark could recall a couple of times he'd been quite thankful for the rapid three-round burst capability of the M4, but generally he had to agree with the older agent.

  Before they could ask, Ed provided a brief summary, at least as far as he knew the situation.

  "There was no warning. One moment all was quiet, then they were inside the house. I have no idea how they located us, or how they managed to get past all the security this place has. They nailed Joe before he even knew they were inside. Took out Murphy and Dick the same way. Jan is across the hall in the kitchen area, hunkered down with Jeff and Andy. That's all that's left of our group. The rest bought it during the first minutes of fighting. Oh, I no longer have any doubts about that strange weapon you described. One of the intruders had something that he pointed at Bill, and in a flash of light he was gone. I don't know if he was simply vaporized, or sent away some somewhere, but he's history. I'm assuming he's dead. I got the guy who used it, and hopefully the device is still out there where we can recover it. That would go a long way toward supporting your story."

  "After we win this engagement, you mean?" Jessie asked with a wry grin.

  "Yeah, that's what I was thinking," Ed said.

  "How many are there?" Glen asked.

  Jessie knew that Ed would had said if he knew, but Glen didn't know Ed like she did.

  "Don't know, and I'm not certain if more aren't coming. We've taken down four of them, but there's still a small pocket at the far end of the hallway."

  They all hugged the floor as a long burst strafed the room, busting a couple of lamps and raining down plaster on them. It was answered by a burst from across the hall.

  Mark looked around and spotted the bodies of two of the agents on the far side of the room. Holstering his pistol, he snaked across the floor, retrieving the fallen weapons and a sack of magazines. When he made it back, he passed one of the weapons, semi-auto AR's not unlike the one Ed held, to Jessie. Each checked their weapon and the load in the magazines. Mark found only two rounds remaining in the magazine from the rifle he held, and changed it out for a fully loaded one.

  "Where are they," Mark asked, as Jessie finished checking the man's wound. It was messy, but not life threatening.

  Ed gave them a rundown on where the enemy was known to be.

  "Most seem to have settled into the control and monitoring room," he said. "I assume they nailed Jerry who was on duty there. There was also a pair in the small office where Jessie and I talked earlier. I think I got one of them. Can't say about the room directly across from us."

  Basement?" Mark asked, as more rounds ripped into the room, some of these thudding into the backside of the fireplace that was sheltering them. The enemy was fairly certain where they were.

  "Don't know," Ed admitted, when the firing stopped. "Can't see the stairs heading down from here, and haven't been inclined to stick my head out into the hallway. Could be a whole division of them down there for all I know."

  "How about Janet and the two men with her?" Jessie asked.

  Ed spoke briefly on the comm set he was wearing. After a moment he said, "Jan's fine, but both Andy and Jeff have taken hits. Andy can function, but Jeff can only provide support where he's at."

  "We need to flush them out," Jessie said.

  Ed nodded.

  "I'll ask Jan to have her team provide covering fire so we can move down the hallway when we are ready."

  "We?" Glen asked.

  "I'm coming along," Ed said. "A little cut like this isn't enough to take me out of th
e game."

  Even knowing it was a bad idea, Stephanie slipped out of her room with the intention of joining the defenders against whoever was attacking. Unfortunately, she'd delayed too long in making the decision, and her friends were nowhere to be seen. She scanned the hallway in both directions, wondering which stairwell they might have taken to the lower level. The one to her left would take her to a spot adjacent to the front door, while the one on the right would bring her to the back hallway near the kitchen. A pair of sharp blasts caused her to flinch. Whoever had fired the shots clearly wasn't using the suppressors she'd heard earlier.

  Heart hammering in her chest, she headed toward the other stairwell, the one that would bring her to the back of the kitchen area. It was quiet there, and she'd hopefully have a chance to see what was happening before becoming involved in the fracas below. Glancing ruefully at her door, wondering if it was too late to change her mind, she headed down the stairs slowly, listening in an attempt to hear if anyone was nearby. As she descended she heard the chatter of suppressed weapons several times again.

  "Damn it!" she cursed silently. Jessie had warned her that it was the novices that normally got killed first. It took a couple of times in combat to develop the proper responses and reflexes, assuming you survived, the female agent had explained. Jessie hadn't told her how scared she'd be out in the open. Steph knew nothing in her life had frightened her as much as the current situation. She didn't know what was better, the silence between firing, or the sound of the guns blazing away.

  She'd reached the lower level, and was halfway down the hall toward the entryway to the kitchen, when another series of shots rang out. These were impossibly loud, and she almost screamed in response. That was enough, she decided. Jessie had been right. She had no business down here. What was she going to do with a tiny handgun and no real idea how to use it?

  She turned and scurried back toward the stairs. She was on the fourth step on her way up when a coarse voice stopped her.

  "Hold it right there," the voice commanded. "Turn around."

  Knowing she was about to die, Stephanie turned around slowly, her left hand still in the pocket of her robe wrapped around the little pistol, her right held out to hold off any potential bullets.

  "Don't shoot," she said in a small squeak.

  The man was coming down the hall toward her. He carried a black rifle with a large cylinder on the end, a silencer she realized. With dark curly hair and several days stubble for a beard, the man grinned as he came her way. His powerful arms were covered with strange looking tatoos.

  "We need one of you alive," the man said. "Just one. It can be you if you behave."

  Steph wasn't certain she believed the man, and was equally uncertain she wanted to be the prisoner of a man that looked like this. She considered the distance. Twenty feet, maybe a bit more. Too far. Glen had told her that if she used the weapon she held in a death grip inside the robe, she needed to be almost touching her target. She'd miss at any greater range given her lack of experience. Her mind screamed for her to shoot, but somehow she held off.

  "I give up," she said, seeing the muzzle of the rifle pointed unwaveringly at her midsection.

  "A wise decision," the man agreed, as he continued her way.

  Ten feet, she estimated. Still too far.

  "What is your name?" the man asked.

  Good, she thought. Her mind had locked up and she'd been unable to think of anything to hold the man off until he came closer. She told him what it was.

  He kept coming. Surely this was close enough? But she held off, now because she realized he could kill her many times over before she'd be able to get the gun out of the pocket. He'd ignored her left hand up to now for some reason, perhaps because she gestured with her right and he'd assumed she was right handed. He also appeared a bit preoccupied with her chest which was on partial display through the loose robe. But he'd realize immediately what she was doing if she tried to withdraw the weapon to shoot. She also wondered if she'd left the safety on the pistol. She thought not. Glen had told her that the kind of gun she had often didn't have an external safety. It was an optional feature, and not necessary. It had been difficult to operate, so she normally left it off, but because they'd been traveling she'd considered putting it on. Now her mind refused to tell her what she'd done. If she guessed wrong, it could be fatal.

  Then someone shouted at the man, and he turned his head to shout back. It might be the only chance she got. She'd have to hope the safety was off. She pulled the gun out of her pocket, pointed it at the man who was now just over an arm's length away, and pulled the trigger. The shot was impossibly loud. It almost caused her to fail to follow up as Glen had worked so hard to impress upon her. She was to keep shooting until the threat collapsed on the ground. She fired again. Then again, and again. On the fourth shot the man coughed and stumbled, dropping his own weapon. Steph fired once more, her last shot going into the top of the man's head as he fell toward her. It was enough.

  She stared aghast at what she'd done. She was too stunned to think, and turned and fled up the stairs. It wasn't until she was back in the room that she remembered she was to switch magazines in the gun after firing it so much.

  Ready to make their move, Ed alerted Janet to lay down a near continuous burst of fire. Ed and Jessie would be making for the control room, while Glen and Mark were tasked with taking out anyone in the small study next to it. Once those two areas were cleared, they'd check the rest of the floor.

  As the firing started, the four of them burst out of the large living room, eyes scanning for any sign of the enemy and guts clenched against the possibility of an unexpected bullet striking home. His destination almost dead ahead, Mark momentarily scanned down both hallways as he moved determinedly toward his target. He was stunned to see a petite young woman carrying one of the strange weapons he'd last seen in Monica's hands some days ago.

  Pam! he realized. She was pointing the weapon at a fallen badguy, who vanished as she pulled the trigger on the device. Mark shouted her name, and she looked up, frowned, and sped for the stairs heading downward. Mark fired a couple of quick shots her way just as she turned the corner and started down the stairs, but apparently to no avail. Then there was no time for considering the implications of what he'd just seen as the room was coming up. He burst into the room with Glen along side, both firing as they entered the room, taking care their shots were directed away from the room next door where Ed and Jessie would be at the moment.

  Shots had been fired at them from the room as they'd begun their charge, but now there was nothing. No bodies and no one to confront.

  "Clear," Mark heard himself shouting, and moments later the shooting from next door stopped. He heard Ed shout the same message.

  A careful clearing of the house revealed nothing. The intruders were gone as mysteriously as they had come, and those killed were missing as well. Jessie was certain she'd hit someone as they'd raced down the hallway, but no body and only a little blood was found in the room. Even the one intruder Glen had photographed was gone. Nothing was found on either upper level, nor in the basement, and the weapon Ed hoped to recover was not to be found.

  "I saw Pam," Mark told the others when the house clearing was completed.

  Ed nodded.

  "I saw a woman matching her description just as we charged out of the room. She had one of those vanishing guns. I think you hit her when you shot her way."

  They checked, and found a small splatter of blood that could have been Pam's, if that was actually who the woman had been, but no body and no weapon.

  "We've got a problem," Ed said, as they considered the attack and the loss of five of their companions. "I can't think of a more secure location, and they found us right off." He also knew he was going to have to explain to someone about the loss of his men, and soon. Other than Joe, all were due to be at work that day. Also, all of the intruders had used normal weapons, nothing off world-like except for the strange device that had clearly rem
oved their dead, but they had nothing beyond their word to prove it even existed. Ed suddenly had more appreciation for the situation Jessie and her friends were in.

  Chapter 30

  They assembled in the kitchen once the house was secure. Much like the great room area where Ed had taken cover, the room was badly ripped up by the bursts of automatic gunfire that had been directed into the area. Janet was unharmed, but both Andy and Jeff were bloodied and crudely bandaged. There were only eight of them at the moment, an ironic number Mark thought thinking how this whole miserable adventure had started with eight of them who went to the strange semi-annual meetings.

  "The wounded come first," Jessie said, looking at the three men who needed medical care. Ed was fully functional, but was still bleeding, although his wound could become an issue if not treated properly before much longer. Jeff was the real issue, and having lost a great deal of blood was weak and looking pale. Andy was clearly in pain, but trying not to show it.

  Janet was already on her cell, making arrangements with another of the special doctors the Agency kept on retainer for such emergencies. After a few moments she hung up and stepped back to the group.

  "Doctor will be waiting. I have the location. It's about fifteen minutes from here."

  "Let's load up and roll," Ed directed. "We can deal with the aftermath of this situation later. "Jan, contact the rest of the team and inform them what has happened. Make certain they know that five of our group were killed, some by the strange weapon Jessie told us about. I don't know if they are currently at risk, and how many might wish to withdraw. Tell them we've made no decision what to tell the Agency just yet, and are seeing to medical care for wounded."