Goliath

by Richard Turner

Mitchell watched as the second ATV pushed past and pulled ahead of the one he was cuffed to. A few seconds later, Alexandra strolled past him, and climbed aboard the lead ATV with her head held high. Riding in Alexandra’s ATV were Markov, and two of Chang’s men. Another bomb specialist and three more mercenaries jumped onto Mitchell’s ATV. The man who had cuffed Mitchell to the bomb sat propped up on the back of the ATV, his FN-2000 resting on his lap, its short barrel aimed at Mitchell’s stomach.

  When he saw that all was in order, Teplov walked outside the tunnel and took out his cellphone to make a quick call to Dmitry Romanov.

  No matter how hard Mitchell tried, he could not make out what was being said. Mitchell was positive that Teplov, the ever-loyal henchman, was reporting in and getting the final go ahead from Romanov to place the nukes. He looked back over his shoulder at his guard and gave the stone-faced man a smile as he tried to wiggle his hand out from the tight cuff restraining him to the bomb. No matter how hard Mitchell tried, he was getting nowhere. All he was doing was rubbing his skin raw. Mitchell ground his teeth in frustration; he knew he had to get his hands on the keys to his cuffs if he was going to escape.

  A faint noise seemed to seep inside the tunnel, growing louder by the second; Mitchell recognized it as the sound of a helicopter flying over the island, but whose?

  Several of Chang’s men jumped off their ATVs, walked to the entrance of the tunnel, and watched as two dark-blue police helicopters swooped down to land in the open area in front of the camp.

  Mitchell knew that the police did not stand a chance against the small army of trained killers guarding the bombs. If shooting erupted, which Mitchell knew was only seconds away, the fight would be one-sided.

  Teplov finished talking and snapped his satphone shut and, with a look of disbelief on his face, watched the two helicopters land. He picked up the nearest Motorola and hurriedly spoke into it. From out of the mining camp’s buildings emerged a couple of local criminals hired by the Romanov Corporation to keep an eye on the camp. They ambled over and were soon engaged in an animated discussion with the police as they climbed out of their helicopters. The police ignored the guards and pushed right past them, intent on approaching the tunnel. It was obvious to Teplov that their cover had been blown. He turned his head and glared at Mitchell. Although he couldn’t prove it, he suspected that the pain-in-the-ass former soldier had somehow contacted the local authorities. He bit his lip in anger. Teplov tasted the coppery tang of his own blood. He yelled at Chang to deal with the police. A second later, a volley of anti-tank rockets slammed into the police helicopters, blowing them to pieces and instantly killing anyone still inside. Hundreds of bullets tore into the stunned police officers from Chang’s well-concealed men. In less than five seconds, the area outside the tunnel became a bloody funeral pyre. A tall, thick, black cloud shot up into the blue morning sky, warning others that death waited for any who came.

  Mitchell watched in horror as the police were mowed down. They’d never stood a chance. His blood boiled at his inability to stop the massacre. He tugged as hard as he could at the restraint, regardless of how much it hurt. Mitchell knew he was going to free himself, even if it meant tearing his hand off in the process.

  At that moment, at the far end of the camp, a backhoe exploded, sending shrapnel and debris flying into a couple of luckless guards, tearing both men apart. The explosion made Chang’s men duck and look around for their unseen assailant.

  Jackson watched as fear and confusion gripped two inexperienced guards, who quickly panicked, dropped their weapons, and fled for the safety of an old cement mixer. He waited a couple of seconds longer to allow the growing panic to spread out of control like a disease. Jackson then pressed down on the remote detonator in his hand; the cement mixer detonated, turning those who had sought cover behind it into red mist. His only regret was that he was a minute too late to help the police officers, lying dead in the snow. He walked out from his hiding spot, a smile creeping across Jackson’s face as he dropped the remote to the ground, slung an appropriated FN-2000 over his shoulder and sauntered toward the entrance of the tunnel, his borrowed gray guard’s uniform bursting at the seams.

  “Now, Gordon,” said Sam into her throat-mic, as she darted out from behind the cover of her building, her legs pumping for all they were worth. She figured it would take her less than ten seconds to cover the distance, but that was an eternity to her as she sprinted across the open ground. A guard turned and saw Sam in her white camouflage uniform emerge out of nowhere. He raised his weapon to take a shot; however, he never had a chance. A half-second later, his head exploded. The other guard died with a hole torn straight through his chest by Cardinal’s well-aimed .50 cal sniper rounds.

  Jen sat on the floor with her arms wrapped around her legs. The sound of firing and explosions outside rocked the flimsy building as if it were made of paper. She closed her eyes and prayed for salvation. With a loud crack of snapping wood, the front door burst open. A second later, a white-clad figure holding a weapon slid inside and came to a stop just in front of Jen. She was certain that she was going to die.

  “Miss March, it’s all right, I’m a friend of Ryan’s,” said a female voice.

  She opened her eyes, still fearing the worst, and looked into the face of Sam Chen. A wave of relief washed over Jen. She fought back tears and looked past Sam at the two bodies lying bloody on the ground outside the office. For a brief instant, she hated herself for being relieved that they were dead; the feeling quickly passed when she realized that she was now safe.

  “Come on,” Sam said, looking back over her shoulder at the mayhem tearing through the camp. “We have to get out of here while all hell’s still breaking loose outside.”

  Jen nodded and stood, ready to follow Sam wherever she went.

  They moved to the open door. Sam quickly scanned around for any hostiles. When she saw none looking their way she told Cardinal that she had Jen and were on their way back to his location. Waving for Jen to follow, Sam jogged back the way she came, with Jen following close behind her.

  Cardinal followed the women through his scope. He knew it would take them a good half-minute to make it back to the hole in the fence, but once there they would be under the cover of the rocks. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a bloodied guard stumble out from behind a building. The guard went to raise his rifle to fire at Sam. Cardinal aimed dead center on the man’s chest and pulled back on the trigger. The guard never knew what hit him as his body was cut in two.

  At the hole in the fence, Sam guarded Jen as she made her way through the opening. Sam then dove through the gap, rolled over her shoulder and came up on one knee. Satisfied that things had so far gone to plan, Sam took the lead and quickly led Jen into the safety of the low ground.

  42