Laura 02 The God Code
Page 14
Horst, still holding Shayna in a choke hold, slowly turns to face Walker.
“Let the woman go!”
Horst just smiles as he brings Shayna’s shotgun up and pulls the trigger. The shot takes Walker full in the chest, flinging him backwards against the wall and causing him to lose his grip on his pistol. As he slowly slides down the wall to the ground, he starts to lose consciousness. He mentally curses himself for not wearing his bulletproof jacket. As his hands touch the ground, his left hand comes to rest on his service pistol.
Horst drops Shayna as he speaks, “Screw you pig,” then reloads the shotgun.
Just as he lifts the gun to shoot Walker again, Walker quickly brings up his service pistol and shoots Horst in the head. Feeling his world start to spin and knowing he is about to pass out, Walker presses the button on the radio attached to his shoulder. “Officer down, shots fired, unit 10…” then he passes out.
Inside the room Estevan painfully gets up and peeks around the corner. Seeing Walker and Horst down, he decides to grab Shayna. Painfully, he throws her over his shoulder, accidentally bumping her head into the wall. He is not going to leave empty handed, and he is going to have his way with her for shooting him. With a struggle, he manages to limp downstairs, carrying Shayna. Angrily he jerks the front door open, and is greeted by a blinding light and four police cruisers parked outside the house.
“Put the woman down, and get on the ground!”
Estevan looks on as two more police cruisers pull up. Slowly, he puts Shayna down and steps forward a few paces, looking for an escape route; there is none. He has done time before, and swore he would rather die before ever going back inside again.
“On the ground now!”
Estevan looks from one police officer to the next, all aiming their service pistols at him; it is jail or death, an easy choice for him. It’s only a question of how many he can take with him.
“Fuck you pigs!” Estevan draws his gun as he yells.
Six policemen open fire, riddling him with bullets. As soon as his body hits the ground, they move forward.
Two men secure Shayna, while the other four go into the house after making sure Estevan is dead.
Shayna is slowly coming to as two ambulances pull up. While medics attend to her and her daughters, she sees them bring out Sergeant Walker and Lionheart, both still alive. Shayna rushes over to the men carrying Lionheart and puts her arms around the dog’s neck while crying. Weakly he opens his eyes and looks at her, and satisfied that she is safe, he closes his eyes again and dies, paying the highest price. Shayna hugs Lionheart tightly, shaking from crying and emotion while thanking Lionheart for saving her children. Lifting her head up, she looks at the medics attending to her children, then lets go of Lionheart to go to them, hugging each one tightly, giving each a kiss.
***
Ernest scans the streets below the building carefully with his night-vision device, to make sure that no one has been alerted to the movement behind the low wall on the roof. His men are already in position, and have activated the bombs. Each bomb can be detonated by a remote detonator, normally held in the bomber’s hand, or by shock to the device, a failsafe that was put into the design in case the suicide bomber gets shot before he can press the button on the remote.
Ernest had the bombs split up so that on the sides of the building where they will not exit, the men will drop four bombs each, saving eight bombs to clear the street where they will exit.
Ernest plans on having the men on the roof drop four bombs on each side, then Sam will remain on the roof with his .50-Cal sniper rifle providing cover, while the rest make it down and exit the building. Sam will then drop the remaining four bombs, two on each corner, to cover their escape and will then follow, providing rear cover.
Still scanning the men below, Ernest finds who he is looking for. 100 feet from the main entrance stands a man smoking a cigar, giving orders to the men around him. Ernest watches as yet another man walks up to Carlos.
“George, have you heard from Horst? He should have found the wife and kids by now.” Carlos is getting impatient. The scenario has been dragging out far too long, he needs the bombs within the next hour to get them to their destinations in time.
“No, none of them are answering their cell phones.”
“Then they are dead. How many men do we have?
“Just over 200, most have done the basic weapons course, about 50 have done the advanced four week program. They are ready.”
“Good,” Carlos replies smiling, finding it funny that America is fighting terrorists in other countries, when there is a massive terrorist training camp right under their noses. It took him five years to build the underground shooting ranges and workshops for bomb building and weapons training, including hand to hand combat.
“Take 50 men, cover the rear exit. Have 25 men each side of the building cover the flanks. I will lead the assault with the rest on the main entrance. When you hear the attack start, enter from the rear of the building, kill everyone.”
“The women as well?”
“If they have been freed, yes, for they will know our plans and will be useless as cover wives.”
George turns around and whistles to get the men’s attention. Making a circle in the air with his right hand, he signals for the group leaders to form up. Immediately everyone starts getting ready, checking that their weapons are loaded. The group leaders form on George and he quickly gives the orders to them. When done they start to split the men into the four teams, then lead them away. Ernest and his team watch from the roof as the attack begins.
“Blue, movement,” comes Sam’s voice over the earpiece in Ernest’s ear.
“Red, same here,” Mark replies.
“Yellow, I’ve got movement as well,” Virgil confirms.
“Green, they are attacking, lock and load. Engage on my command only, conserve ammo. Drop the bombs when there are groups close together,” Ernest commands. Ernest watches as the leader with the cigar who he saw earlier, takes a large group of men and has them line up 20 feet from the building, and then selects ten men and has them line up in front of the others.
Ernest immediately knows the plan is to have the larger group shoot indiscriminately at the windows of the building, while the ten remaining men storm the front door. If the men below start shooting, Ernest and his men might not be able to drop the bombs. Ernest was hoping for the attackers to move right up to the building and try to open the front door quietly.
“Change of plan, drop the bombs.” Ernest gives the command while gently picking up one of the vests. Looking at the other men, each ready with a vest as well, he nods, turns and throws the vest over the wall.
Carlos is standing behind his men and starts to lift his right hand to give the order to attack, when one of the men turns and runs away yelling “Shit, bo-” The sound of the explosion drowns out his words, and the shockwave of the blast slams the man to the floor. Kevlar and ceramic balls fly through the air, ripping the men apart. Suddenly more bombs detonate around the building, and then a rain of fire comes down at the men below as Ernest and his team open up with automatic fire. Bloodied and wounded in the right hip, Carlos sits on his knees and returns fire while yelling for his men to get up and retreat while firing at the roof. Two of his men grab him, helping him up and away from the building. One of the men takes a bullet in the back and falls down yelling in pain. Carlos leaves him and goes to hide behind one of the cars parked in the road. Just as he reaches the car, another bomb explodes behind him, and balls riddle the car, passing by his head within inches. Furiously he looks on as his men get cut down trying to retreat.
“Commander, there are still too many of them left!” Edmund fires as he speaks next to Ernest.
“I know, I was hoping they would get right up to the building and try and take the entrance by force, allowing us to kill more with the bombs.” The battle starts to get fierce and the men on the roof can no longer look over the wall to aim, nor can they try
and throw more bombs over, in case it gets hit with a bullet and explodes.
“Deactivate all the remaining bombs.” Ernest points his rifle over the wall, shooting blindly as he speaks.
“Take a hand grenade, secure it to one of the straps on the vest and pull the pin on my command, then throw it over. As soon as you have thrown it over, move out.” Ernest is afraid that the remaining men below will regroup, causing Ernest and his team to lose the element of surprise.
“Tipper, we’re coming down,” Ernest orders, then waits for the men to get ready with the hand grenades and vests. As soon as he sees that the other men are ready, he pulls the pin of the hand grenade and throws the vest over. Five vests fly over the walls and explode seconds after each other. In the confusion created from the explosions, Ernest and his team clear the roof and quickly make their way to the ground level with two ropes they had already hung from the inside balcony on the top floor. All the men make it safely to the ground, with Ernest waiting until last. As soon as each man touches the ground, he runs towards the back exit. Just as Ernest makes it down, the front door is blown open and four men burst in firing. They walk into a wall of death as Tipper’s gun answers back, cutting them to pieces.
Ernest fires over Tipper who is kneeling on his right leg for stability. Together they stop more men from entering the building. A few men outside put their guns around the door frame and shoot blindly inside. Tipper’s gun runs dry and he quickly reloads, putting two fresh 500-round magazines into the gun.
Suddenly Tipper falls backwards from the shock as two bullets hit him in the chest. Ernest immediately grabs him by his backpack and starts dragging him towards the back of the building while still firing. Twelve men storm into the building through the large door, four abreast. Ernest empties his magazine into the men, killing the first four. Knowing that he will need to let go of Tipper to reload, Ernest drops his weapon, letting it hang from its sling, and drags Tipper with both arms. If he lets go of Tipper to reload, it will be the end of Tipper. The remaining men jump over their fallen comrades and storm forward. Ernest looks over his shoulder; only a few more steps and he is at the door leading down to the basement and the back exit.
Ernest looks forward again to the main entrance. His heart sinks to his stomach, the remaining men are taking aim. Suddenly their bodies are shredded, arms and heads exploding as Tipper’s Microgun’s rounds chew them up. Six barrels spin around and spew 1000 rounds of hot load at the men. He has regained consciousness and continues shooting while being dragged backwards by Ernest. Suddenly two men appear by Ernest’s side. Looking up he looks directly into Sam’s face. He and Edmund heard the shooting and came to help.
As the men make it through the door towards the exit, Carlos throws his cigar down and stomps on it in anger. His men are dribbling back, many are wounded. When Carlos had taken cover behind the car, he had ordered all the men who were left in the secret base, even the cleaners and cooks, to report to him. As the men now gather round, he makes a quick count, 110 in total.
“Boss, they have escaped out of the back, do you want to corner them in the streets?” George is bandaging his arm as he speaks. The bullet went right through his bicep, just missing the bone.
“No, I know where they are going. They will go to their extraction point and radio for extraction. The base will send some transport helicopters or troop carriers, which we can easily take out with rocket launchers. We will get them as they try to leave. Take what is left of your men and keep engaging them at a distance. Get them to use up their ammo and drive them on. The rest, follow me.” Carlos starts running as soon as he speaks, and almost 100 men follow him, ready to die for him.
George has 15 men left, and leads them through the building towards the rear exit just as Ernest and his team exits the building slowly, scanning for survivors. There are cars smoldering in the street, and dead bodies and pieces of men lie everywhere.
Ernest takes point, while Sam covers the rear. The women and the rest of the men are spread out in the middle, carrying the dead and wounded. Ernest has the group spread out across the road to make it more difficult to kill everyone with one grenade or machine gun fire.
They are halfway down the block and silently moving from cover to cover, with four city blocks still to go before getting back to the sports field. Suddenly bullets slam into the car next to Ernest and all around him. As he turns to shoot back, three bullets hit him in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Ernest is half dazed from the shock, but returns fire in the direction the attack is coming from as he lies on the ground. His chest feels like a truck went over it, but he is ok, the bullets stopped by his body armor. The rest of the group immediately returns fire and engages a small group of men coming out of the building where they had come from. Ernest orders his team to move out as quickly as possible towards the extraction point, while returning fire. It takes them 20 minutes to cover the four blocks, fighting all the way, sometimes almost pinned down. With most of the group low or out of ammunition and wounded, they reach the edge of the sports field. The men following them suddenly back off and there is a few minutes of silence. The men are possibly regrouping.
“Where is our support?” Sam is standing next to Ernest, scanning the field.
“They will be here,” Ernest replies as he pulls his backpack off to retrieve the Sat phone. Sam and Ernest both stare in shock at the backpack, torn from multiple hits, the gear inside destroyed, including the Sat phone.
“What now Commander?” Sam asks.
“Our only chance is to use the darkness as cover, silently make our way to the middle of the field, and hope they detect us with satellites and send support.” Ernest replaces his backpack as he speaks, leave no gear behind if you can is his motto.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Sam replies.
“We have no option, move out,” Ernest commands.
Slowly the group makes their way across the dark field until they are in the center, then forms a circle on Ernest’s command.
“Ammo count,” Ernest whispers softly.
Each member replies his ammo status, mostly none, some a few half clips or less. In total, they have only six full magazines left. Ernest commands that the ammo be spread amongst all members who can still shoot.
Just then they hear the faint noise of helicopter blades, running in silent mode above them, descending. Slowly the helicopter lands 40 feet from the group.
“That helicopter is a UH-60L Black Hawk; it can only carry 11 people at a time with gear, maybe all the women alone,” Sam comments next to Ernest, who nods back.
“Our mission is to save the women. Nothing has changed. Help the women board. We’ll make it out another way.”
Suddenly the sports field’s lights come on, placing the group and the helicopter under powerful spotlights. Immediately everyone ducks down, scanning the edges of the field. To their horror, more than a hundred men are walking slowly towards them, guns ready. Carlos is standing on the back of a Dodge Ram pickup, with a machine gun fitted behind the cab. Using a loudspeaker he calls to them.
“Stay where you are or we will shoot. Inform your pilot that we have rocket launchers and will shoot him down if he tries to take off.” No one responds, and Carlos continues.
“Throw your weapons on the ground now!”
“Commander?” Sam looks at Ernest, waiting for a command, knowing what can follow.
“If we give up, we will be tortured and killed, dying like cowards. Target the men with rocket launchers, maybe we can give the women a chance to escape. On my count we attack and the women-” Ernest stops as a sniper’s bullet goes over them and hits the helicopter pilot in the head. A red splash of blood and brains appear on the window where the bullet exited his head, and his body slumps forward over the controls.
The armed force is now 100 feet from Ernest and his group, standing in line, a firing squad. Carlos has his truck stop 50 feet from the group, then addresses them once more.
“This is your l
ast warning. You have five seconds to drop your weapons on the ground or I will order the men to shoot.” Carlos glares at the party in anger, and then lifts his hand to give the signal to attack. Suddenly his head explodes and for a second the headless body stands upright on the truck before tumbling over.
Everyone looks in surprise at each other, there was no gunshot, no sound, and no one had fired. Then the sky opens up and rains death on the terrorists, cutting the men down in mere seconds. Ernest looks up and sees a trail of red streaks coming from far above in the sky, like a dragon blowing fire on the men below.
“Puff the magic dragon,” he comments, as over a hundred men are shredded, making it look like they were put through a mincer. In five seconds, all that is left is pieces, not even broken bodies.
Suddenly a second helicopter lands next to the first and as Ernest looks on, Tipper asks, “What happened to the men? What’s a magic dragon?”
“C130 high altitude support airplane with multiple weapons. Its GAU-12/U Equalizer five-barrel 25 mm Gatling-type rotary cannon can fire up to 4200 rounds a minute. It’s the modern version of the old AC-47 airplanes used in the Vietnam war as support and night raids. Although a few variants were used, many had three General Electric six barrel 7.62 mm Gatling guns mounted on one side and could cover every square foot of a football field with one round, in one minute.” Turning to the group he commands, “Move out.”
The copilot from the first helicopter takes over control of the helicopter, after placing his fallen comrade in the back with the injured and fallen Seals of Ernest’s team, including four women that got killed when they made their way to the sports field. Slowly the second helicopter lifts off first, with Ernest’s one waiting for it to gain altitude before lifting off itself. No one is aware of the person hiding in the shadows at the edge of the field, waiting for the right moment. The helicopter slowly takes off, weighted down with all the people inside, and starts to make its way back to base. Ernest is sitting behind the pilot, by the door. Suddenly the helicopter’s radio comes to life and Ernest listens to the message.