by Devon Ford
The round hit the wall inches from her face, sending shattered stone fragments towards her eyes.
She dropped so fast that Mitch bawled her name, thinking the sniper had got her, but when she hit the ground he saw her legs scrabbling furiously to get her body out of sight. Blood poured down her lacerated right cheek, but she managed to shout a single word.
“NOW!”
Mitch introduced the copper wire to the exposed ports of the battery, muttering a single, breathed word to himself. Contact.
Neither of them saw it, but if they had they would have probably enjoyed the sheer level of devastation they had brought upon their enemy.
The vehicle was almost through the choke point, but the rear wheels were only feet away from the rock piles which hid the mines.
As the charge flowed through the buried wires at impossible speeds, the detonators did their one and only job. Both mines exploded simultaneously, vaporising the people advancing between rock face and vehicle. The specially designed v-shaped hull of the Foxhound was powerless to withstand the blast, and with the people walking alongside it so too did the rear wheels disappear as though they had never existed. The back end of the truck concertinaed, violently popping the rear hatch open to crush two men advancing behind it and in what they felt was the safest position.
The advance was stopped dead in a roiling cloud of black smoke like the one which had consumed the gates, only far bigger.
Sabine, far behind with a few others, felt the explosion as the entire world blossomed into fire, smoke and flying debris. The heat from the blast hit her like a shockwave, a snapping sensation like she had received an electric shock, and brought with it deadly fragments of metal and stone. The man to her right jolted and froze before his knees gave way and he fell to the ground, a smoking, twisted scrap of steel protruding from the bloody wound in his face.
“Run,” she shouted, turning to see the three surviving men with her had already vanished. Torn between following the others and fearing staying with the others without the protection of Leo. Seeing a rough track up the steep hill to her side, she scrambled upwards and away from sight of the burning wreckage behind her.
~
Le chasseur was pleased. His bloodlust was beginning to feel slated, and he already relished his victory with anticipation. He was about to be the conqueror, and to the victor would go the spoils.
His momentary daydream was burst, and he flinched despite himself.
The unbelievably loud explosion from the advance below him sent a rush of dust and hot air from ground level all the way up to his position. Leaning over the side and trying to make sense of what had happened below, he watched in disbelief and horror as the dust blew away to reveal his bloodied and broken army lying in ruins below just as the inexorable pull of gravity rained a shower of stone on his position. What went up was now coming down...
His attack had failed, and he was now stranded in the enemy camp. All around him his men looked expectantly for orders, all except the sniper who still stared implacably through his scope.
“This is not over,” he told them. “We underestimated our enemy, but if they want us out then it will cost them dearly in blood.”
He surveyed the faces looking at him. For the first time since they had sworn to follow his orders, they seemed unsure and afraid. Plans A, B and C were finished, and plan D was simple, vengeful violence.
“WE DO NOT LOSE!” he screamed.
~
Dazed and confused, Simon began to stumble towards the gateway ahead wearing nothing but his underwear. He had two options. Three really, but as he decided staying put wasn’t going to help, he faced the choice of back the way he had come from or onwards.
The ground ahead of him erupted in a puff of dust, followed by the echoing report of a rifle.
Slowly, he turned his face to stare upwards at the fort. He saw nothing, but he felt that whoever was up there could see him clearly.
He was past the point of caring if he lived or died; he just wanted the pain to end in either death or sleep. He stared for a few seconds, then turned away and shuffled his bare feet painfully onwards towards the gate. No other shots came.
~
“Did you get one?” came the question to the Legionnaire’s right.
“Yes,” he lied to the man who wasn’t seeing what he was seeing. In his head, he said the words non-combatant.
He reminded himself that choosing not to take a shot wasn’t the same as missing.
~
Movement near the skyline snatched Claude’s attention. The old man had resumed his watch after ensuring that the one man sent to kill him was truly alone.
Now, gently sweeping the barrel of his gun over the terrain he saw a woman scrabbling desperately to gain the high ground away from the place where the explosions had happened. Claude saw her clearly, under no illusion that she was from Sanctuary, and smiled grimly to himself as he settled the crosshairs of his sight on her.
The juxtaposition of old man and state-of-the-art rifle was a thing of beauty as he carefully breathed the rhythm of a marksman which he had done so many times before.
Pausing his breathing at the right moment, he gently squeezed the trigger with a caress of his finger.
The bullet flew true, unwavering in its trajectory. He saw her face as the sound of his shot reached her, fear and shock battling for primacy, too late for her as the projectile travelled at impossible speeds and had already entered her chest.
The impact of the heavy round threw her down like nerveless meat, dead before she hit the ground.
Satisfied that he had acquitted himself well, Claude resumed his scanning of the ground ahead.
STAIRWAY TO HELL
Dan regained consciousness and looked over to see Kate stitching up Mitch’s shoulder. He tried to speak but no words came out. He tried again and was rewarded with Kate turning to look at him.
“Hold that,” she mouthed to Mitch, handing him the needle and thread she was using. Stepping over to Dan, she mouthed, “Are you ok?”
“Yes,” he lied, still in silence.
It was only then he realised that the lack of sound was because of him, not for him.
He was deaf.
“It’s probably temporary,” Kate mouthed again, meaning his deafness. “You were stood next to an explosion, do you know what happened?”
“Chris,” he said, not hearing his own voice so mouthing each word carefully. “Suicide bomb.”
His words obviously came out because the others in the room, who hadn’t heard the news about who carried the bomb, all stared at him in disbelief.
Mitch, foolishly attempting to carry on with the needle work as he pulled a face to try and see his own shoulder, added to the bad news.
“They’re in the fort, too,” he said.
Dan didn’t see his mouth clearly as he spoke, merely heard a weak noise as though he were underwater, and looked at Kate for a translation.
“He said they are in the fort,” she enunciated with deliberate care, this time the pitch of underwater noise changed and Dan could make out some of it; like being able to see shapes in the fog but the hearing version of it.
“How?” he said, rewarding himself with a ringing noise returning to his brain.
Shrugs all round didn’t help him, and he sat up despite Kate’s protestations. “Anything else?” he asked.
Kate, finally realising what Mitch was trying to do, slapped his hands away and took back control of the stitching. Craning her head back towards Dan she told him, “Everyone is hiding indoors out of sight. People are guarding the gate from the inside and the steps to the fort are barricaded, but we’re trapped.”
That, Dan understood just fine.
His head ringing and his legs feeling a little unstable, he stood. Kate knew him well enough by now to know that he would not listen to her advice that he should stay in bed for seventy-two hours and rest. She knew that wasn’t an option.
He had another infestation to
clear; questions and rest could come after.
~
“There is only one way to do this,” Dan said, barely able to hear his own words as he spoke over the tinny whine still ringing in his ears. “We have to climb up and kill them.”
His assembled audience was all volunteers, and all understood that without control of the sky fort they were all prisoners under cover of the stone walls. They had no other assets, he told them. They had no way of clearing the fort without going there and doing it themselves. There were no reinforcements and there was no artillery or air support, so they had to do it the medieval way.
He was way past trying to tell Leah she had to stay, he had told her repeatedly all afternoon and into the evening as they planned what they could do.
He wanted to say that this time, of all the times she had put herself on the line, of the times she had saved his life, that this time was different. If their counterattack failed, then he didn’t expect anyone to survive. He wanted to say that she had to stay and look after Marie and Ash; that he had to do this for all of them.
From the way he spoke, it sounded as though he had already accepted his death.
Mitch had protested that he had to come, but his wound had debilitated him too much. Dan told him to raise his rifle, and although perplexed at the order, he tried. He tore his stitches and fresh blood seeped through as his face contorted with pain. The wound was simply too big and on a body part which moved too much. He would drop from blood loss before he reached the top of the steps. Dan told him, resolutely, that he had to stay behind.
“And you keep my bloody dog here, too,” he finished, brokering no argument on either subject.
Mitch grudgingly accepted that he would be more hindrance than help, and asked what he could do.
“Heal,” Dan told him, “and if I fail you starve the bastards out and finish the job.”
Dan looked at his assembled volunteers. Neil was there, unwavering in his resolve to protect the town he had grown to love, as were Adam and Pietro and a collection of angry townspeople intent on ridding their home from danger.
He could not fault their commitment or their burning hatred for the men on the mountain who had come to do them harm, but he did doubt their ability on the whole. He kept those doubts to himself.
“Go get some rest,” he told them, “and be ready to move in three hours.”
Shortly before the sun began to set, before the invaders would have chance to become more entrenched in their position above the town, Dan led the assault. They moved very slowly in the dark, step by step and making sure they reached the top with breath in their lungs. Even to Dan’s damaged hearing, the sounds of ragged breathing and the occasional scrape of a weapon on the stone walls sounded impossibly loud in the claustrophobic confines of the near-vertical tunnel they were entombed in.
The climb took close to an hour as they moved slowly, and Dan stopped as the closed door at the top came into view.
The fading light shone around the edges and the air changed almost imperceptibly as they neared the surface. Watching and waiting, he crouched next to Neil who acted as his ears for the interim.
The older man turned to him and shook his head.
No sounds.
Creeping closer as stealthily as he could, he reached the door and peered through a crack in the wood. Nobody guarded the door, instead a large shape had evidently been dragged in front of it to serve as a barricade. Standing carefully, Dan checked all around the edges of the doorframe. He found no wires indicating that it was booby-trapped, nor were any bolts showing in need of blasting away before they attacked. The door was just propped shut.
Glancing back down into the gloom, he saw the faint reflections of eyes staring back at him.
Finding no reason to delay, he braced himself and heaved the door inwards.
~
Leo did not expect an attack up the stairway. In truth, he expected nothing of these weaklings other than to try and flee. His men would pick off anyone foolish enough to show their faces and after that he would accept their imminent surrender. How could they possibly expect to win? He had the high ground, he had destroyed their defences, in part, and he held the advantage.
They were, at the worst possible time, arguing about their position.
This was not something le chasseur was accustomed to, and he did not like it one bit. His orders had always been followed, and nobody had questioned his judgement until that moment.
His men had raised the subject deftly, implying that the tactical situation had changed, so they too should re-evaluate.
They all seemed to want to climb back down the rope and melt away. He stood and stared them all down, burning them with his malevolent gaze. One by one their shame showed and they turned their eyes away.
One man, evidently braver than the others, picked up his weapon and turned his back to walk away.
“Stand still!” Leo snarled. The man paused, but continued without turning.
Drawing the gun from the holster on his waist, Leo told him once more to stay where he was. He didn’t.
A single shot sounded, making everyone atop the windswept fort jolt. The man, a bullet lodged in his spine just below his neck, dropped wordlessly. Slowly, deliberately, Leo holstered his sidearm and addressed his men once more.
“Cowards die with bullets in their backs,” he said simply.
Just at that moment he heard a noise from the other side of the courtyard.
~
Just after the forlorn hope of attackers had begun to climb the stairs, Leah paced up and down in the hospital with Ash nervously dogging her heels, occasionally emitting a whine of uneasiness.
Mitch, from his enforced position on a bed, grew increasingly frustrated by the girl’s inability to stay still.
“You trying to make a bloody trench, girl?” he asked, making her stand still and stare at him.
“What?” she said, half in hostile challenge and partly because she had been too preoccupied to hear his words.
“You’re wearing a rut in the stone,” he said in a softer tone of voice. She opened her mouth to answer, but a noise to her left down the corridor snatched her attention away.
It wasn’t quite a scream, but it was unmistakably a female in distress. Still staring, her open mouth dropped lower as she saw Marie being helped around the corner by Polly.
Her light grey trousers were showing darker all down her legs. Leah’s first thought was that she had been shot, seeing as that was popular at the moment, but her brain kicked the information into shape quickly. Mitch saw her face.
“What’s happened?” he said seriously, struggling to get up from the bed.
“Marie,” she answered woodenly. “The baby’s coming.”
It was Mitch’s turn to stare with his mouth open as the women came through the doorway shouting for Kate.
As Marie was helped back onto a bed and Kate began to fire off a series of professional sounding questions, the soldier turned to the teenager and the two exchanged a look of understanding.
Mitch hated himself at that moment, but he knew he would never even make it up the steps in his condition as he had simply lost too much blood.
He had to leave the task to a child and her pet.
Nodding once, she turned on her heel and stalked away.
Deciding that Mitch didn’t really want to be in a room where a woman was going to give birth, he dragged himself out of bed to go and take a seat at the foot of the stairs.
Leah’s mind raced as she half walked, half ran through the series of corridors to the barricade at the entrance to the almost vertical tunnel to the clouds.
“Where are you going?” a voice asked her as she pushed past.
“Going to get my dad,” she answered.
~
Dan heard a shot, then burst through the brittle wooden door and into the fading sunlight, weapon raised.
He pressed forward, all semblance of tactics abandoned as he didn’t have trained men behind hi
m.
They weren’t trained as he was, but everyone spilling out onto the exposed stone was brave and fighting for their lives. Their home.
Neil split off left, just as Dan’s peripheral vision clocked the tip of an arrow on his right which led back to one of the most frightening men he had ever seen with his compound bow half drawn.
It struck him that he had never seen the Russian use the bow, but not once did he ever doubt the lethal combination of man and weapon.
No targets were presented, so Dan’s training took over subconsciously and he made progress away from the door which would be the obvious point of return fire.
A man rounded the central stone pillar and died with a burst of automatic fire from Dan’s HK416.
Two for two, he thought to himself, instantly regretting the fact that his weapon’s first kill had been a friend.
Gunfire erupted to his right and he sensed more than saw three of his group drop to the stones. The unfamiliar sound of hissing air, a twang, immediately answered by a butcher’s thump of flesh registered in his brain as Pietro neutralised the threat to their right flank. Gunfire to his left made him aware that Neil was in contact, and he pressed onwards.
Speed, aggression, surprise.
He scoffed at himself for using the mantra of special forces; this operation was far from special in any way other than it was a desperate fight for survival. Still, speed was the key. They couldn’t have many people on the ramparts of the fort and they had to be cleared away before they had any chance to rally.
~
The legionnaire sniper heard the stairs door burst open, not taking the time to check what came out. Abandoning his rifle, a thing he had never done, he threw himself into the doorway of the low building which served as the sleeping quarters. Two others followed him, and together they set up a killing ground to cut down anyone who showed themselves. A man with a fair coloured goatee beard leaned around the corner of the stone wall and aimed a rifle, unable to squeeze off a shot before the sniper hit him twice with his backup weapon.