The impact of his shin bone across his target’s upper body took the man off his feet as he slammed into the concrete. Millie stood as Chance continued his assault, the stolen weapon roaring down the tunnel connecting the cell blocks to the central facility.
The windows rattled as the shooting died down. They watched the last of the guards disappear into the distance. Chance’s shoulders and chest heaved as he fought to catch his breath. He wiped a sleeve across his forehead to soak up some of the sweat. Millie dropped her M4 and picked up one of the guard’s rifles, grabbing a couple of spare magazines.
“You do triathlons or something?” Chance asked. “You haven’t even broken a sweat.”
Millie dabbed at her head with a gloved hand, looking at the moisture on her exposed fingertips before showing Chance. “See? Sweat.”
“Unbelievable,” Chance muttered, frustrated. “Let’s go check the next floor. I’m pretty sure it’s clear, but no need to take chances.”
* * *
John let his rifle hang from the sling and started digging through a file cabinet. He glanced over at Faust and Owen, ensuring that they were still secured to the railing against one wall.
His weathered fingers pressed down hard, wrinkling the edges of the pages as he rifled through them. Halfway through, he confirmed that these had to be the files taken from the storage facility in Michigan.
Walking back into the control room, John held his rifle again, crouching in front of Faust. “Is that everything? All of the files you brought here for safekeeping?”
The fire in Faust’s eyes burned brightly. John could see the hatred leveled in his direction. He ground his teeth together, locking eyes with the CARR Group CEO.
“Alright. You don’t have to talk to me,” John said. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities during your trial.”
“Cell Block B secure,” Millie said. “C was empty.”
“Great job,” John said.
“There’s probably half a dozen guys heading in your direction, though,” Chance said. “We winged one or two, but they’re running scared. Just figured you should have a heads up.”
“Thanks. How about the rest?” John asked.
“Block A is secure,” Roland said.
“Yeah, about that,” Ty started, “I think we’re asking a lot of the word secure.”
CHAPTER
36
Standing in the doorway leading into the cell block, Roland held his rifle low, in a non-threatening manner. He held a hand up trying to regain control of the situation.
“Hey, I’m on your side,” he said.
“Then get out of our way,” one of the inmates said, holding another of the rifles taken from the downed guards.
“I can’t,” Roland said. “Not yet.”
The inmate brought his weapon up. “We can roll right over you. You can’t stop us by yourself.”
“I’m not trying to stop you. I’m just trying to contain the situation,” Roland said, tightening his grip on his own rifle.
“Situation? Is that what we are?” another inmate asked.
“No. Listen, I’m in the same boat as you. I was transferred to a training facility like this one.” Roland looked around. “Well, not quite like this one, but it was run by the same people.”
“So what are you doing here now?” The leader of the prison riot asked.
“And what’s wrong with your man?” the other inmate asked, pointing to the security room.
“I have a kidney condition,” Ty said through the speakers. “My doctor says I'm not supposed to let anyone stab them with a shiv.”
Roland closed his eyes and sighed in exasperation. “Are you worried that I’ll stab you too?”
“Yes, actually,” Ty said. “But it seems you’ve proven to be a fine upstanding citizen that has paid his debt to society.”
“You’re not helping, Ty.”
The leader tensed as his weapon snapped to his shoulder. Chance and Millie stepped into the room behind Roland, their guns trained on the group standing in the open area.
“Whoa whoa whoa.” Roland spun and held his hands up, backing up toward the inmates. “Don’t shoot. We’re all on the same side.”
“Are we?” Chance asked, locking his sights on the only inmate with a weapon. “They didn’t transfer these people here from the Boys and Girls club. These men are felons.”
“Like me,” Roland said, stepping further away.
“Kid, don’t do anything stupid,” Chance said. “Come on back.”
“We’re here to shut the CARR Group down,” Roland said. “That means all of these men behind me are in the same situation I am. I’m not leaving them locked up just so they can be forgotten when Faust goes down for all of this.”
“Man, I’m lost here,” one of the inmates said, stepping out of the crowd. “What’s happening? One minute we’re locked in our cells, the next thing we know a bunch of intruders show up, and now we’re supposed to just trust you?”
“I let you out, didn’t I?” Roland asked over his shoulder.
“Not exactly,” the leader said, looking at Chance’s rifle.
Roland turned. “Let’s talk this out. Give me a chance to show you that we’re here to help.”
“Great idea,” Ty said. “Just stroll back into your cells, and we can discuss this like gentlemen.”
“Ty, get out here, you coward,” Millie said, slinging her rifle over her shoulder.
* * *
The inmates gathered away from Roland and Chance, huddled up as they discussed their options. Only one man, their leader had a weapon. The others had successfully forced the guards to retreat before the wave of bodies could swallow them up.
The armed prisoner nodded and headed over to talk, followed by a much larger man from the back of the crowd. He only had a few inches on the leader, but easily carried an additional 40 to 50 pounds of extra lean mass.
Roland kept his weapon strapped across his back as he extended a hand. The other inmate shook it, still holding his rifle in the other.
“My name is Roland.”
“Jason,” the inmate said, shaking hands. “But I’m going to include my lawyer in the discussion.” He gestured to the wall of muscle with his thumb.
“What’s your name?” Chance asked.
“Clifford. Cliff, my friends call me Cliff.”
Chance nodded. “You really a lawyer, Clifford?”
“No, I just read a lot. You know, trying to find something to appeal my case,” Cliff said.
“Listen close. We’re here to shut this place down,” Chance said.
Cliff’s eyes widened. “Why?”
“Isn’t that what you guys want?” Chance asked.
Jason held a hand up. “Don’t misread his curiosity as our desire to stay. We’re just wondering why a heavily armed group of strangers is trying to stage a prison break.”
“Do you know why they brought you here?” Roland asked.
“To join International Security. To make a difference and finally do something positive with my life,” Cliff said.
“What did they pin on you guys before the transfer?” Chance asked. “Contraband? Did you start a fight with other inmates?”
Jason lowered his weapon, dipping his chin as he looked at Chance from under his brow. Cliff’s face twisted up into a mask of confusion.
“Is that what happened to you too?” Jason asked Roland.
“Yeah. I was just trying to keep my head down and finish my stretch when I got caught up in some random fight. Never had any beef with the other guys, but it was enough to add more time to my sentence.”
Jason laughed. It lacked any hint of mirth, and dripped with incredulity. “It’s just some big scam. They just want to feed the war machine with bodies.”
“Bodies that don’t matter to the general public,” Cliff said. “So that’s their plan? Frame inmates and threaten them with more time.”
“Then offer a sweet deal to join INSEC,” Roland said.
/> “Serve your country. Make the world a better place,” Jason said with a sneer. “I knew it was too good to be true.”
CHAPTER
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John unrolled the empty backpack he brought with him, stuffing the most critical files inside. He found a few flash drives that he included, just in case. Before zipping it up, John moved to the warden’s desk and tugged at one of the drawers. A lock held it closed.
Placing a hand on the edge, he yanked the handle, snapping the latch and pulling the drawer free. John busted the others open as well and went through the contents, finding a few more data drives and a couple of important files.
He lifted a bottle of whiskey tucked in the back of the bottom drawer. “Such a cliche,” he mumbled, placing it on the desk.
He tossed the backpack on the desk and walked out of the office, watching as Faust and Owen huddled together, messing with the bonds around their hands.
“You rats trying to chew your way to freedom?” John asked. “Sit tight, Faust, we’ll have you out of here and ready to answer for your crimes soon.”
“John, we’ve got incoming,” Parker said.
“That was fast. Is it Clarke?”
“I’m afraid not,” Travis said. “Looks like quite a few choppers coming from a nearby INSEC facility. We’re scrambling Lieutenant Clarke’s team now, but they’re about an hour out.”
“How long do we have until the enemy lands?” John asked.
“Five, maybe ten minutes,” Parker said.
John looked over to Faust and Owen. A smile grew, spreading across the CEO’s face.
“Oops, did I forget to mention that?” Faust sat up straighter, defiantly puffing his chest out. “I’m afraid your plans have changed. When Hawke and his team get here, I’ll have your head mounted on my wall like a trophy.”
* * *
“Copy that,” Chance said.
He walked back to the rest of the group.
“Playtime is over,” he said. “There’s a team inbound. In five minutes they’ll be knocking on our door.”
“Captain Hawke?” Roland asked.
“The one and only,” Chance said. “Faust knows if we get out of here alive, he and the entire CARR Group are done. Hawke and his strike team are only here to make sure we’re all dead.”
“And then they’ll dismantle this entire facility like it was never here,” Millie said.
“Right. So we’ve got a few minutes to set up our defense,” Chance said. “Our objective is to hold out until our reinforcements arrive.”
“How long is that?” Ty asked.
“An hour. Maybe longer.” Chance checked his magazine before reinserting it.
“Then why are we still standing around?” Jason asked. “You gotta let us out of here now before those guys get back.”
“You’ll never make it out in time,” Millie said. “They’ll gun you down from the air on their approach.”
“What if we lock ourselves in our cells?” another inmate asked. “Just pretend we were always there. Still loyal to them?”
“Do you really want to take that risk?” Chance asked.
“We need your help to fight,” Roland said. “Captain Hawke is dangerous, and we could use all the manpower we can get.”
“We need more than that. We need firepower,” Jason said. “And right now, the four of you seem to be holding it all.”
Ty raised his hands. “Don’t look at me. I’m unarmed. Hey, we all remember the part about them being felons right?”
“Stow it, Ty. Roland is right,” Millie said. “If armed mercenaries are on their way now, we need every able-bodied participant to join the fight.”
“We can scrounge up a couple more rifles, but the rest of the guards fled with their weapons,” Roland said.
“I can direct you to the armory,” Parker said. “There should be enough hardware for you there.”
CHAPTER
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“There really isn’t anything we can do to help out?” Miranda asked.
“I’m afraid not,” Parker said. “I’ve got access to their systems, but the anti-aircraft weapons are on a different network. We don’t have the time to crack through that.”
Miranda rolled back to her workstation. “If I started now—”
“You would be shooting the pilots down after they’ve deployed the soldiers,” Travis said.
Parker leaned in toward his monitor. “All we can do is watch.”
“What’s Lieutenant Clarke’s ETA?” Travis asked.
Miranda ran a finger along her display. “Fifty-two minutes.”
Travis folded an arm across his body, propping the other elbow up as he brought his forefinger to his lips. “This is going to be tight.”
* * *
The massive plastic case’s contents rattled as it settled onto the roof of the cell blocks. With a crack, the latch popped open, and one of the inmates swung the lid out of the way. Roland reached inside and pulled one of the ammunition belts out, settled in a steel case, dropping it next to the M240 machine-gun.
“I’ve only done this a couple of times during training,” he said.
“That’s far more than any of us,” one of the inmates replied.
Roland placed the first round of the linked 7.62 ammunition onto the feed tray and lowered the cover assembly. He reached over and pulled the charging handle before pushing it forward again.
“It’s in safe now, but just flip that switch, and you’re ready to rock and roll,” he said, pointing at the weapon’s safety.
The inmate knelt next to the machine-gun and lifted the stock, swiveling it side to side, testing its range of motion. Several more inmates joined them on the roof. Two had the G36 rifles like the other guards while a third carried a Remington 870 pump action shotgun.
“We’ve only got the one machine-gun,” Roland said. “You’ll need someone ready to supply the ammo, while the others provide cover.”
All of the inmates looked nervous, one bordering on terrified. Roland felt the same, but he pushed the feeling aside, not wanting to make things worse for the others.
“That shotgun isn’t going to do much good from up here,” he said. “Take this.”
He traded with the inmate, taking the Remington and handing him the rifle he grabbed from the guard downstairs. Roland turned back to face the man next to the M240.
“Remember, short bursts. Five to seven rounds at a time. You’re not Rambo,” he said. “The last thing you want to do is warp that barrel.”
* * *
“Two minutes out,” Captain Hawke said.
He turned and signaled to his team to prepare for the assault.
Rhino wound the cylinder spring in his Milkor six-shot grenade launcher. He set the MGL to the side and checked the M249, ensuring the SAW, Squad Automatic Weapon, was loaded and ready for combat.
Burst brought her carbine around front, to her chest and patted each of the pouches on her belt and vest, taking a mental inventory of spare ammo. Her hand dropped to the SIG Sauer M17 on her right hip, and her left hand swiped across the pair of spare pistol mags on the opposite side.
Flash leaned back in her seat, bullpup rifle hanging from its sling down her centerline, with the muzzle pointed between her feet. The muscles in her jaw flexed and relaxed several times. She opened her eyes and leaned forward, waiting for the signal to deploy.
Hawke looked out at the other helicopters trailing behind, each Super Huey carrying eight to twelve combat-equipped INSEC contractors. His body sank into the seat as the chopper followed the contours of the mountains, rising with the slopes.
He turned to the pilot. “Remember, we still don’t know if the anti-air defenses are operational. We can’t risk coming in too high.”
The pilot nodded and brought the craft around another peak rather than coming over the top. The other pilots followed, circling around toward the southern side of the base.
Hawke pressed the earphones tighter to his head listening to the incomi
ng broadcast over the angry thrumming of the rotors above.
“Set us down over there.” He pointed to a clearing near the training grounds. “It looks like the AA missiles aren’t functional, but no need to take any unnecessary risks.”
“Roger, Captain.” the pilot said, dipping the nose of the Huey as they crested the final ridge.
Switching to the channel for the entire operation, Hawke issued commands to the other aircraft to touch down along the southern and eastern faces of the base, providing a clear line of sight to the buildings with plenty of cover from the construction equipment.
Donovan knew the anti-air wasn’t tracking their movements, but the risk of losing a bird on approach didn’t sit well with him. Did the enemy even know they were coming?
The helicopter bounced as it touched down. Hawke gave the orders to the team as they hopped to the ground, seeking cover. As soon as the last man deployed, the pilot lifted off, rising above the ridge to the west.
The rest of the choppers did the same along the southern and eastern zones. Hawke turned to give the order to advance when he heard the distinct chatter from a machine-gun. Everyone hunkered down behind cover as the remaining choppers scrambled.
The gunner opened up again, the unmistakable bloom of fire from the weapon’s muzzle pulsing against the night sky from the base’s rooftop. Figures moved along the ground, running toward his teams. Several INSEC contractors opened fire, gunning two down.
The rest stopped and dropped to the ground. None returned fire, even though Hawke could see they had weapons through his rifle’s scope.
The Hard Core Page 16