“We’ve had a couple of lessons at the shooting range yes,” Ethan answered for both him and Roy.
“Van, I think your answer is evident. I’m not even going to ask how you got your hands on this much ammunition.”
Van shrugged his shoulders without answering.
“Right, listen up. The weapons are all loaded and ready to shoot. Take your pick, and take up positions by the windows and doors. Stay out of sight and wait for my order. Do not shoot and do not come out of hiding until I say so! Got it?”
The men did as the commander instructed and hastily took up their positions behind the window dressings, inside cupboards and behind the couches. On the wooden porch outside the house the shuffling of feet alerted them to the fact that their attackers were on the doorstep and about to access the house. The commander silently signaled to his soldiers, one of whom stuck a tiny optic cable through a hole between the wooden planks at one of the windows. He signaled back that he had eyes on four hostiles. Ready and with their fingers on the triggers, the group of men anticipated the impending attack on the house. Sam’s left hand was clammy against the handle of his gun as the barrel rested on his broken wrist. He secretly prayed it provided sufficient stability and that his aim wouldn’t be off by too much. Glen and Angus hid behind the drapery on either side of a window; their faces ashen with fear.
The handle on the front door turned slowly, sending ripples of fear through the charged atmosphere in the house. More feet scuffled on the porch outside and Glen jumped when the latch on the window next to him rattled. It became evident that they were completely surrounded and outnumbered by the approaching assailants. Van fought the urge to blast his gun off through the door from behind the couch. Anger overwhelmed his usually composed demeanor. As if he could read his mind the commander shook his head at Van and held up his hand for him to be patient and wait. The front door rattled against another attempt by the attackers to open it. It was locked. Moments later an axe sliced through the wood of the front door, followed by several more strikes. Two hostiles barged through the door. They were entirely oblivious to the fact that the house was occupied by the commander and his army of men. From where they stood they could not see any of the soldiers or the relief members hiding out.
The two hostile men stood in the middle of the foyer and took in the quiet dark surroundings of the farm house. Satisfied it seemed unoccupied the leader finally spoke in his native language and one by one his men entered the house through the front door behind them. Their postures relaxed as they moved through the house and eventually reported back to their leader that there was no one inside the house except them. Loud cheers echoed through the house as they foolishly celebrated their luck.
And when they least expected it, Commander Burger signaled his men to deploy from their places of hiding. The soldiers opened fire at the posse of eighteen surprised men who had assembled in the middle of the kitchen.
In a matter of minutes the frenzied shootout subsided and dead bodies covered the kitchen floor.
“Clear!” one of the soldiers reported followed by two more reports that the enemy had been taken down.
“I need a Scotch,” Angus said as he flopped down on the couch in the sitting room.
“You might need to change your pants first, mate,” Glen said behind his hand nodding his head towards the dark patch across Angus’ groin area.
“Ah bugger,” the Scotsman replied embarrassed.
“Happens to the toughest of men, Angus. All in a day’s work,” Sam replied in an attempt to brush it away.
Angus disappeared down the passage to the bedroom.
When Elaine emerged from the bunker and lay eyes on the bloodbath in her self-claimed kitchen, she shrieked and buried her head in Glen’s shoulder.
“There, there my dear, it’s all over now. Why don’t you take a seat in the sitting room instead? We’ll clean up this mess.” Glen ushered her toward the lounge before turning back to the kitchen.
Elaine’s piercing screams followed by a muffled moan filled the house. The commander charged to where he met two armed black men in the lounge. They had their arms around Angus and Elaine’s necks from behind and their guns pointed at their heads.
Shielded by Angus and Elaine’s tensed bodies, the two black men shouted panicked orders in their language at the commander. The commander had his gun pointed back at them; his arm sturdy in front of his face.
The one man shouted at him again, this time pushing the barrel of his gun hard against Elaine’s temple. She flinched and then broke out into an anguished sob. It angered the man and he pulled his arm tighter around her neck. Her body quaked with terror. The man shouted at the commander again. This time the army leader responded.
“English; speak English!”
The attacker spat onto the floor in front of Elaine causing her face to twist into a grimace to one side. The man scowled and muttered obscenities at the commander before pushing his gun hard against Elaine’s cheek.
“Let them go,” the commander chanced.
Three soldiers sneaked in behind the two hostage keepers who were unaware of their presence. It was only when they spotted the red laser beams on the floor in front of them that the one who held Elaine captive caught on.
“You can’t win here, let them go,” the commander warned again.
The man’s nostrils flared as he nervously looked back to see the commander’s men standing firm in a shooting stance behind them. He was trapped and outnumbered, and even if he shot and killed both Elaine and Angus, it meant the end for them too. The sobering thought didn’t stop him. Instead, it angered him further and he mumbled something to his partner under his breath. The two men instantly reacted by turning their backs to each other, all the while holding Angus and Elaine firmly in a tight grip in front of each of them. If the soldiers shot from either angle now they would certainly also kill Angus and Elaine and possibly each other.
The soldiers were not prepared for the clever maneuver on their enemies’ part and remained in position. Back to back the two attackers shuffled their hostages toward the front door.
Helpless the commander watched them drag Angus and Elaine out onto the porch. Contrary to Elaine’s panicked sobs, Angus clung in submissive silence to his assailant’s arm that choked him across his chest. With his men next to him in the house, there was nothing the commander could do at this point apart from allowing it to play out.
When the hostage keepers shuffled their way out onto the porch and down the steps, still with their hostages shielding their bodies, a single gunshot exploded through the air. Elaine fell to her knees and before anyone could react, a second shot was fired and Angus fell to the ground.
The commander and his men charged forward to where Van stood over the two dead kidnappers’ bodies; smoking gun in hand.
Elaine didn’t move until she felt the warm thick liquid run down the side of her face and a drop of blood splattered onto the dirt in front of her. She screamed the most anguished scream imaginable; fully under the impression she had been shot. It was only when the soldiers helped her and Angus to their feet that she noticed the blood drenched bodies behind her and she realized the blood wasn’t hers. A moment later she fainted.
Van held two fingers over his brow as he saluted the commander. He wasn’t mocking him. Instead, he was thanking him; grateful that he had the opportunity to take revenge while simultaneously pleading his patriotism to a country he loved so much. Killing wasn’t something he was proud of even though he had saved the lives of two innocent people. But he was faced with unsurmountable odds that left him with no other option.
“The first time is always the hardest,” the commander spoke as he saluted Van back. “You’ll never get over it but you can stand proud that you fought for what was right. If you hadn’t intervened both Angus and Elaine would have been dead. That much I can tell you for certain. You saved them, Van. What you did was extremely brave.”
Van nodded and rubbed the sweat from his bald head. “I hope
I never have to do this again, my friend.”
And with that the two men disappeared into the safety of the farmhouse.
Chapter Seventeen
ICCRU headquarters - London
Matt Fletcher paced the length of his office. It had been several days since they lost contact with Alex and the team and knowing Volkov was after the tooth had him uneasy.
“I have the general on line two for you Matt. It’s urgent.” His assistant announced over the intercom. Matt rushed to his desk and eagerly lifted the receiver to his ear.
“General, please tell me you have a lead?”
“Affirmative Matt, we found the plane. It crashed just north of the airport. They never landed.”
Matt bit down on his jaw and rubbed the back of his neck. “Any fatalities?”
“It appears they might have evacuated prior to the crash. The wreckage is scattered in a field. They’re still searching for any survivors but so far my men haven’t located any bodies. We found the crate containing the parachutes empty, so we suspect they might have jumped before the plane went down.”
“Great work, General. Send me the details of the rendezvous point. I’m on my way.”
* * *
It was shortly before sunrise the next day when Matt’s parachute touched ground in the Kalahari desert just outside the Namibian border. Upon the general’s advice it was the safest place to enter South Africa. He had a few miles on foot to his pick-up point. The red rippled Kalahari sand gave way under his feet making it particularly strenuous to walk in and even without the sun up yet it was hot; the steady breeze drying the sweat on his brow almost instantly. He fixed his eyes on the horizon and checked his GPS coordinates. According to his map the desert would subside about three miles south where he should find the dirt road and another mile down that road toward the East the ground team should be waiting for him.
A puff adder slithered across the mesmerizing sand about five yards ahead of him and the sudden surprise caused him to jolt. The desert might look arid and serene, but it was very much alive. He needed to stay alert. In the distance he heard what he suspected were hyenas. There was no way of knowing how far away they were but he wasn’t about to take any chances. He kept moving — as fast as it was possible to walk in the thick sand.
The deep orange line that threatened across the horizon signaled the sunrise was imminent. It was a spectacular sight that brought about a sense of relief knowing he wouldn’t feel as exposed to early morning predators. He stopped briefly for a drink of water at the foot of a large sand dune. It would be his seventh dune to climb since he landed with his parachute and his unpracticed legs were feeling the strain. Navigating through the red sand was relentless so he paused a bit longer than he had intended and heard movement in the sand behind him. He froze. Without turning around, his mind raced through a list of possible dangers. Nomads were prominent, so were the tribal bushmen. Neither posed a threat to him so he dismissed these. He recalled the hyenas and ruled that it was most likely them. Keeping his body still he slowly turned his head sideways and squinted his eyes to one corner to try catch a glimpse of what was behind him. If it were the hyenas or worse, lions, he’d be trapped between them and the high dune in front of him — and outrun them he couldn’t. He swallowed hard turning his head even further to the right. He saw nothing. Confused he decided to look to his left just to be safe so he repeated the exercise over his left shoulder. He still saw nothing. Deciding it was time to slowly attempt turning his torso around, he did and much to his relief, spotted a small group of wild meerkats that curiously sat erect on their hind legs. Matt exhaled and turned to fully face them. This mess with Volkov had him on edge.
“You gave me the fright of my life you little critters. If you’re looking for food, I’m out. But I can do with the company climbing this dune.”
The meerkats scattered as soon as Matt spoke. Somewhat disappointed he started up the hill alone; laughing at himself for entering into a conversation with the meerkats. His fears were short-lived once he reached the dune ridge and caught sight of the dirt road below. A quick look through his binoculars confirmed the ground team was already waiting for him at the pick up point.
A few hours later he stood in the field assessing the plane wreckage.
“Glad you could join us, Sir.”
“What do you have for me Lieutenant?”
“We’re trying to make sense of things. So far we found both pilots dead in the cockpit. Strange thing is, they weren’t in their seats.”
“Someone else was flying the plane?”
“It appears so. There’s more. The steering wheel was tied in place by one of the seat belts.”
Matt scratched his chin as the lieutenant took him around to the broken off cockpit.
“And the two pilots? What was their cause of death?”
“Both had multiple gunshot wounds to the head and chest. Preliminary forensics suggest the bullets penetrated the cockpit from the outside. They were dead before the plane crashed.”
“So that confirms the reason for their initial distress signal. They were already under attack.”
“Affirmative, Sir. We also managed to locate three of the four engines so far and recovered several bullets in all of them. They might have flown on only one engine. With nowhere to land it seemed impossible to stay in the air for very long. There’s also no further indication that there were any more fatalities at this stage, Sir. My men combed the area over half a mile yesterday and found nothing. Trackers have been at it since 4 a.m. this morning expanding the search to a mile.”
“Good job Lieutenant, let me know if your men find something.”
Matt hunched at the pile of personal effects next to the wreckage. He picked up the reporter’s camera. There’s not a chance any reporter would ever part with his camera unless there was absolutely no other option. He checked for the SD card. It was gone. Ok, so he was sharp enough to remove it. The nearby laptop was badly charred. He doubted they’d be able to recover anything from that.
“Sir, my men found something.” The lieutenant interrupted a short while later and beckoned for Matt to follow him on foot. “We found several deployed parachutes just outside the half mile point east from here. It’s ours. There are fatalities.”
A short walk later the two men hovered over the two dead bodies at their feet. Matt felt his chest tighten as they approached Geoffrey and Murray’s bodies still tangled under their parachutes in the field.
“Gunshot wounds. Most likely before they even touched ground,” the lieutenant commented. One was a relief member from Scotland and the other, a soldier from the South African Defense Force.
Matt placed his hands on his hips and looked across the field. It wasn’t quite light already and the sun’s first rays cast silhouettes against its orange background.
“What is this place?” Matt asked turning ninety degrees.
“I believe we’re on a private cattle farm, Sir.”
“Is that a house?” Matt pointed out in front of him, squinting against the sun rising behind the farm house.
“Get down!” The lieutenant promptly ordered in light of this new discovery. He instructed his men to move in and investigate further. His team moved stealthily through the tall grass ducking down every few seconds. As they approached the house, the porch light flashed on and off several times.
“I think it’s morse code,” Matt declared to the lieutenant as he watched through his binoculars. “I’m a bit rusty. Can you read it?”
The lieutenant fine-tuned the lens of his binoculars. “Looks like it spells allies.” He radioed his men to respond with SADF and a minute later the porch light followed suit.
“It’s them!” The lieutenant exclaimed and pushed the button on his radio. “Move in with caution. I repeat. Proceed.“
“Roger that Lieutenant.”
The squad moved toward the house and moments later the front door opened and Commander Burger stepped out onto the porch.
�
��Commander Burger, 2nd Paratrooper Regiment Pretoria,” saluting the lieutenant who promptly saluted back announcing his rank.
“Lieutenant Botha, 24th Infantry Winfield. What’s your status, Sir?”
“Unit is secure. A few casualties but all is under control. We lost comms with HQ and three of our men are in the field.”
“Matt Fletcher, ICCRU HQ. Where’s Hunt?” Matt barged in pushing past the two service men.
“Deployed in the field, Sir. She decided not to abort her mission. Dr. Quinn is inside.”
Matt followed the lieutenant through to the kitchen where the remaining relief crew and Sam waited for the all clear.
“You’re Sam Quinn I presume?” Matt, equal in height to Sam, bombastically approached him.
“Well, if you’re going to be that abrupt about it, I guess I’m forced to own up? Who’s asking?” Sam replied cheekily.
“Matt Fletcher, ICCRU. Where’s Alex?”
“She’s on the mission you recruited her for, remember? Somewhere out there chasing your tooth.”
Matt bit down on his jaw. “Can I have a private word with you please Dr. Quinn?”
“Sure, but only if you drop the title.”
Matt wasn’t smiling at Sam’s humor and stormed out into the sitting room.
“You were supposed to accompany her, Dr. Quinn. Why are you here? Who is she with?”
Sam lifted his splinted wrist. “I don’t think I had much of a choice now, did I? My injury could have jeopardized our safety. We thought it best she go at it without me. She has two of Burger’s men with her.”
“And Volkov?” Matt asked with apprehension.
“Volkov? What the hell are you talking about? You mean the Russian billionaire who just built the Mars shuttle? What does he have to do with this?”
Matt turned away and scratched the back of his head. He didn’t answer.
“Dammit Fletcher, are you telling me Volkov is somehow involved with this?”
The Alpha Strain Page 11