Goliath
Page 45
Dark gray smoke filled the air, blocking out the sun. The sound of automatic weapons firing combined with the smell of cordite filled Chang’s senses while he edged forward, calmly ignoring the sound of bullets whipping past him. They had one chance and one chance only to take the tower. If the fight kept going the way it was for much longer, he would be out of men. The sound of heavy machinery starting up made him look back over his shoulder at the large yellow earthmover as it drove through the camp. Chang smiled. His men had seen the terrible precision from the sniper perched atop the tower and had placed a row of 45-gallon drums inside the earthmover’s large shovel, hoping to absorb some of the impact from the deadly .50 cal rounds.
He called his surviving men over and quickly outlined his plan of attack. They would wait until the large earthmover passed them, then they would fall in behind, and use its mass for cover as it moved ever closer to the tower. With a quick nod from his men, Chang ejected the magazine from his rifle and slapped home a new one. He knew that when they got to the tower, the fight would be short but deadly, and his men would come out on top—of that he had no doubt.
Cardinal rolled on his side and dug through his breast pockets until he found what he was looking for, his last full magazine of ammunition. Quickly placing it on his rifle, Cardinal pulled his weapon tight into his shoulder as he scanned the ground below him for targets. Smoke from burning vehicles and buildings obscured his view. All he could see were those mercenaries he had already killed. It may have been a cold winter’s day, but Cardinal’s throat was parched. He thought it felt worse than some of the hottest days he had spent lying in wait in Afghanistan. He was fumbling for his canteen when he heard the sound of a heavy machine’s engine rumbling somewhere in the burning camp. Instantly forgetting his thirst, Cardinal peered through his sight and sought out the source of the noise. Barely a second later, the massive earthmover emerged from the smoke with its shovel held high, protecting the driver.
“Clever bastards,” muttered Cardinal to himself, when he saw the row of drums inside the long shovel.
Sam’s head popped up from below. “Do you see what they’ve got?”
“Yeah,” replied Cardinal, as he took aim where he figured the driver would be and pulled the trigger.
A loud metallic clang split the air, as the .50 cal round sailed through the 45-gallon drum but came to an abrupt stop against the extra plates of steel the driver had placed behind the drums. With a satisfied grin on his face, the driver slowed down slightly, allowing Chang and his men to dash over behind the tracked vehicle as it clawed its way forward.
“It didn’t stop,” observed Sam.
Cardinal once more took aim and then pulled back on the trigger. A loud bang filled the air as the rifle fired. He looked through his sights and cursed. He didn’t have any armor piercing rounds with him, and that was what it would take to stop the vehicle.
He looked over at Sam. “You and Miss March better make a run for it while you can. I’ll try to hold them as long as possible.” Cardinal knew that they had, at best, a couple of minutes before the tractor made its way to the base of the tower.
“Like hell,” was all Sam said, before disappearing from sight.
Cardinal shook his head in frustration. He looked back at the tractor as it ground its way toward them, like some kind of unstoppable, mechanical beast coming to finish them all off.
Sam dropped down onto the second floor of the tower, dashed over to the open gun port, and peered outside. She could see that the tractor was still a few hundred meters away, but soon it would turn onto the road leading up to the tower. She spun about and looked around the room, desperate to find something to stop the tractor. When she spotted Jackson’s bag lying on the floor, she picked it up and began to dig through it.
“What’s going on?” asked Jen, seeing the look of desperation in Sam’s eyes.
“Unwanted company’s coming,” replied Sam, without looking up from her task.
Jen looked out the window and watched as the large, yellow earthmover came into view. Jen shook her head. They had come so far; there had to be a way to stop them.
“Do you think we could use this cannon?” Jen asked Sam.
Sam pulled out a block of C-4 and several detonators from Jackson’s bag. “Sure, I don’t see why not. I can use this as the propellant, but I don’t see any cannon balls lying around.”
“Not cannon balls…rocks,” said Jen, as she tore past Sam, taking three steps at a time to the bottom floor and straight out the open door of the tower. Jen’s heart was racing, as she tried to find a rock that would fit down the barrel of the old cannon. Jen dropped to her knees and dug frantically through the snow, growing desperate to find a projectile, when she heard the sound of automatic gunfire erupt from above. Ignoring the loud, angry bursts, she continued to dig. Jen’s hands were becoming raw and stinging from the bitter cold as she clawed at the snow and ice, when she felt something hard. Digging as fast as she could, Jen found a couple of rocks frozen to the ground. She pulled at them with all of her strength, and let out a cry as they came free. She picked them up and sprinted back inside the tower.
Sam heard Cardinal open up with his M4. She knew that was not a good sign. Belatedly, she realized that the mercenaries were no longer firing at the tower, which could only mean that they were all jammed behind the massive vehicle. This was her chance. She threw herself on top of the cannon and crawled forward until she was half in and half out of the tower. She took her expedient charge and rammed it as far as she could into the barrel of the cannon. Her arms were too short to jam it all the way home. Swearing, Sam crawled back inside, sprinted over to the nearest old wooden table, and in one swift kick, knocked one of its legs off. She ran back, took the wooden leg and stuck it inside the barrel, ramming home the charge. She was about to crawl back inside when she heard Jen bounding up the stairs. Sam called out for whatever Jen had in her hands.
Jen, her hands numb from the bitter cold, looked down at the three rocks in her hands. Quickly deciding that the middle one was the best, she handed the rock to Sam, who hurried to jam it into the barrel and ram it home.
“Move,” cried out Sam, as she crawled back inside the tower. She looked down at the cannon’s mount. Sam saw that there was no way to elevate or depress the cannon. She would have to wait until the tractor was almost upon them to fire it.
Jen stood there, rubbing her hands together, trying to get some warmth back in them when Sam turned and, with a serious look on her face, dug out her pistol, pulled back on the slide, and then handed it to her.
“In case this fails,” said Sam.
Jen felt the gun’s weight in her hands. She had never used a weapon in her life. Jen knew that if their plan failed, there would be no other way to stop the mercenaries, and she did not intend to die without a fight.
Jackson, his hands gripped tightly on ATV’s handlebar, had expected a welcoming committee the instant they sped out of the tunnel. The bright sun rising up in the sky momentarily blinded him, however, the path in front of them was empty. Jackson could hear the sound of firing. He jammed his foot down on the gas pedal. His friends were in danger and he was not going to slow down for anything or anyone.
“Over there,” called out Mitchell, as he pointed at the gaggle of men using a large tractor for cover as it closed in on the tower.
“Hang on,” said Jackson, as he turned the handlebar hard over, the wheels of the ATV clawing at the icy ground as it slid sideways for a few meters, before gripping the rocky path that led down from the volcano toward the destroyed mining camp.
As they sped past the still-burning remains of the two police helicopters, Mitchell changed the magazine on his pistol, and then looked up at the tower. He knew his friends were fighting desperately to protect Jen. Kicking at the floor of the ATV, Mitchell cursed at the vehicle to move faster. He wanted to be in the fight before it was too late.
Cardinal was trying his best to ricochet rounds under the spade of the tractor, hoping to hit t
he driver. He doubted he was doing anything but wasting ammunition, but he had to try something. With a flick of his thumb, Cardinal ejected his empty magazine. He could see that the tractor was less than one hundred meters away and closing. Quickly jamming a new magazine home, he decided that he would make his stand with Sam on the floor below. He crawled back on his stomach and ran down the stone staircase. Cardinal dashed down below, only to have a pistol thrust into his face.
“Jesus, you should have said you were coming down! I could have shot you,” stammered Jen, as she slowly lowered her pistol. Her hands were shaking so much that she thought she was going to drop the gun.
“Sorry,” replied Cardinal, his heart jackhammering away in his chest.
“I suggest everyone lie down on the floor, as I’m not sure if this is going to work,” said Sam, as she held up a remote detonating device in her hand.
Cardinal and Jen dove to the floor.
Sam took one last look out of the window and saw the tractor looming large.
“What are you planning to do?” asked Cardinal.
“This,” replied Sam, as she depressed the button on the remote. In the blink of an eye, the C-4 inside the cannon detonated, sending the rock flying out of the barrel, straight at the uplifted shovel. First striking the top of one of the 45-gallon drums, the rock easily sliced through the metal, and then tore a hole into the top of the shovel, sending razor-sharp shards flying into the face and neck of the driver, killing him. His foot slipped off the gas pedal. A few seconds later, the tractor came to a shuddering halt about fifty meters short of the tower.
Chang saw the blood trickling down the side of the tractor and knew that his driver was dead. He shook his head in disbelief and anger. He was about to climb up and over into the cab when a man behind him called out in pain and dropped to the ground. Chang turned his head. He could not believe his eyes as an ATV came charging towards them, the driver and the man beside him firing away like madmen. His blood boiled when he recognized Mitchell. At that moment, he knew the plan to detonate the bombs had failed. With bullets cutting men down where they stood, discipline among his men evaporated in an instant. They had had enough. Men dropped their weapons and ran for their lives, some foolishly turned and sprinted to the tower, only to die in a deadly barrage from Sam and Cardinal, while others tried running back to the camp. They never made it, either, as they were shot in their tracks by the men in the ATV. Throwing himself under the tractor, Chang crawled out of sight. It was over. He did not see the point in dying when he did not have to.
“Don’t stop,” yelled Mitchell over his shoulder at Jackson, as he emptied his pistol magazine into the panicked crowd of mercenaries.
Jackson had no intention of stopping. Firing his weapon on automatic, he sprayed the area in front of them with bullets.
In seconds, it was over. Not a single mercenary was left alive.
Jackson brought the ATV to a sliding halt in front of the tower. Both men leaped from the vehicle and ran toward the open door of the building, met by Jen, Sam, and Cardinal as they all ran outside.
Jen, with tears welling up in her eyes, threw her arms around Mitchell and pulled him in close.
“Ow,” mumbled Mitchell as Jen crushed his broken wrist in her viselike grip.
“Is that all you’ve got to say?” said Jen as she let go of Mitchell and wiped the tears away from her face.
Mitchell smiled. Jen’s face may have been covered with tears and dirt, but to him, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever met. “We can talk later,” he said as he looked over at Sam. “Get Yuri and Fahimah here ASAP.”
Sam dug out her phone to make the call.
The sound of rotor blades made Mitchell look skyward. With a smile on his face, he watched five V-22 tilt-rotor Ospreys come in to land.
“God bless the United States Marine Corps,” said Jackson.
“Come on, let’s go and greet our party crashers,” said Mitchell.
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