by Tyler Danann
There were over three hundred yards between them and the building site and Knight had time to ask snap questions.
“Lethal or non-lethal?”
“Use both if you have to.”
“What happened to subtlety you said—”
“I’m not having to explain to a mother why we let her daughter be gang-raped! All bets are off!”
The two ran on, passing one of the construction workers. He stopped and tried to tell them what they already knew.
“Undercover police! Get to safety!” Weyland said venomously without breaking his stride. The civilian obeyed and the two men of Albion ran onward past him.
Ali, watched impatiently as Jesse Young worked on his victim. She fought back like a wildcat though biting and scratching where she could to the extent that the rapist couldn’t properly initiate his foul deed.
“Ali, get up here and hold her arms!” Jesse scowled without turning from Nicola.
Before Ali could move a faint scuffing of boots on dirt distracted him. He had time to turn as a heavy, yet slender rod struck him hard in the face. The charged blow shattered bone effortlessly forever maiming him, but for now he was propelled into unconsciousness. The Moor fell without the others noticing properly. The other two had their backs to Weyland who barged past them to set upon Jesse Young. Knight was already engaging them as he did so.
The black lad was oblivious and trying to hold both Nicola’s wrists with one hand while the other tried to probe about with his manhood. A split-second later Weyland sent his sabre baton whipping down and around in an underhand arc. The vicious blow struck between Young’s legs, destroyed both testes and fractured his coccyx. As the assailant drew back his arm for a follow-up blows his fellow Yeoman rampaged his own attacks into both the other gangers. One fell from a destroyed skull while the second was paralyzed from the neck down as the deadly baton did its work.
An angry bellow of rage from Jesse Young rang out causing him to move his head. Weyland’s baton-strike was partially deflected off the man’s thick skull. Half-turning a long swinging arm lashed out in response, bashing into his body armor. Undaunted, Weyland delivered a final strike that battered into his face, shattering Jesse Young’s nose. Only then was the he stunned into a world of agony and pain. A booted kick from Nicola sent the black youth off her. Knight put down his enemies with less finesse than Weyland, but unleashed just as much ferocity. Both of them lay slumped upon the other bearing cracked skulls and maimed limbs that would never mend again. Such was the ferocity of the sabre baton. Its kinetic energy hummed internally, both men had used the rounded side of their batons instead of the wedge-like one. It was supposed to be less-lethal that way but regardless, at full power the weapons were indeed a force-multiplier. By now though the inner-charge that gave the sabre baton its extra bite dissipated.
Nicola Woodvine tugged on her pants seeing the armed man standing over her. Weyland stayed low on instinct and moved further in, using the stack of breeze blocks for cover as he circled the remaining enemies.
Knight was on the opposite side doing the same but had less cover to work with. The duo were fortunate and the remaining gang were oblivious. Nicola’s screams had disguised their fighting as part of the rape-tustle. Only two more of Omar’s gang remained on their feet, but one of them was armed. Two more were unconscious or dead with another holding his ankle and moaning like a girl.
Omar himself had ceased his onslaught with the revolver and put it down to take up a heavy sledgehammer.
“I’ll break all your legs and arms if it means taking your kind to what the future—”
“Armed police! Drop the weapon!” said Knight moving in on the group.
Omar’s face suddenly changed as he seemed to take on a different aspect.
“Don’t shoot! Project Cadre, codename ‘Sading.’”
Knight said nothing but paused a little.
“I’m Omar Jordan, a Cadre leader!” continued the enemy. “You all should have been briefed about us being active here? Anyway this bitch has been targeted for removal. We’re just having fun before the Ministry get here to take her away.”
“Is that so?” said the Yeoman lining up his pistol again.
“Yeah! I thought you police had been told to stay out of our areas?” he asked with a hint of arrogance.
“Guess what, we’re not your fucking police mongrel!” Knight said with a snarl.
He waited for Omar’s expression to change with horrific realization before the Yeomanry operative fired a double-tap from his handgun.
Weyland was stalking up towards the adversary just as his accomplice opened fire and he went down to the ground instinctively. The first bullet struck center of mass into the target as did the second. The 9mm hollow-point ammunition was neither large nor small compared to other types, but they made short work of wrecking Omar’s vile heart. He sank down, dropping the sledgehammer.
The last gang member was the only white lad of the group, he took off running and Knight drew a bead. His weapon fired once and the boy fell forward to the floor adjacent to a wall. He crawled away around it clutching his leg and yelling.
Weyland seethed at Knight’s actions but concentrated on the mission. He raised up the near-naked girl gently.
“Your mum sent us Valerie!”
“What?” she whimpered.
“We’re from Albion. we’ve got to get you out of here!”
Nicola Woodvine scurried across to join her friend.
The violence was almost too much for the girls though and for a moment they viewed the armed pair with intense shock.
“You’re the one on the news, the Heysham killer!” Woodvine said with a combination of fear and awe.
“I was there, but not as a killer of civilians and police like you’ve been told. Terrorists were my enemy on that one, and those raping our women like they nearly did with you girls.”
He picked up Valerie from the ground and she stayed on her feet, albeit in an unsteady fashion.
“There’s no time! You have to trust us Valerie, we can’t stick around! You are wanted on trumped-up charges and we have to move! We’ve a safe place and can guarantee you won’t be harmed,” Weyland said holstering his baton.
By now onlookers from the college were closing in and it was time to move.
“Enforcers!” warned Knight.
Valerie thought the ordeal was over when the sight of a blue-flashing light on an unmarked vehicle appeared. The Ford Mondeo roared to a halt just outside the building site. Warrant Officer Atkinson got out together with a much younger man. Both were armed, Atkinson with a pistol and the unknown one with a carbine. Both Yeoman agents dived for cover, Weyland close to Valerie and Knight close to Nicola.
“SOTF! Surrender!” the carbine gunmen had time to say before gunshots rang out back and forth.
Weyland had a slight advantage as both adversaries seemed overconfident. Atkinson went to throw a stun canister but an uncanny pistol shot that missed his face fluked a hit on the musty device. It exploded with choking smoke, enveloping him with a loud, rushing whoomph, he went to the floor in blinded pain. As he went down the other attacker opened fire again, almost catching Weyland with a short burst of automatic fire. A bullet skimmed his waist, ripping the light armor like paper. As he cowered behind a stacked pallet Knight fired back unassailed and winged the police enforcer slightly.
As some more gunfire went back and forth an unexpected sight passed them on the right and they both noticed it was Jesse Young staggering like a zombie. Despite his injuries he had roused himself from unconsciousness and blindly wandered to get away from the terrible scene. There was a pause then two silver objects, one after the other came hurtling over from the police car. They landed perilously close to Young and the other group. Weyland had the presence of mind to flatten to the ground completely. He held his hands to his ears, protecting his face and head. Then both devices exploded, sending a strange, non-fragmentary pressure wave that first reached the staggeri
ng gang-tough. He was dashed violently into a chain link fence then swept to the ground, this time he could not fend off unconsciousness. The brick-wounded ganger who’d been nearby was likewise afflicted. Slightly further away was the main target of Weyland. His low-profile, body armor and instincts paid off. He felt a ringing pass overhead and a pressure-wave that tingled over his light body armor and fingers.
Knight was more shielded from his solid pallet of breezeblocks but the two girls were not and both fell unconscious from the weird effects of the shock-grenades.
Synel Shildz, now moved in low and fast from the police car to finish off the Yeomanry. He had orders to seize both women, regardless if it was before or after the gang had had their way with them. He half-expected the opposition to be neutralized from the pulse grenades, first he saw the black lad and another nearby, as his weapon swept around to check the next area he almost had time to aim. The sights of the MP5 almost aligned on a recovering Weyland who was groggily trying to raise his pistol. Moments before the iron ring could affix on him a series of shots from Knight thudded into him. For all Knights gung-ho talk, he was an excellent combatant and shot nearly all his remaining shots into Shildz. A few from Weyland followed and the trauma of the impacts sent the man to the ground. He was out of sight, obscured by a large trailer and thirty yards away. More police sirens could be heard approaching.
As Knight reloaded Weyland set about picking up Valerie. “Let’s go!” Weyland said to him.
From the vehicle vague movement could be discerned by Knight. He removed a small grenade from his inside jacket pocket. Taking no chances the driven warrior pulled the pin and hurled the explosive accurately towards the Interceptor vehicle. It went far over Synel to land and roll deep underneath the pursuit vehicle.
“Grenade out,” Knight had time to say before it detonated. Atkinson, barely coherent from the intense effects of the stun grenade took the full force of the blast as it ignited the petrol tank. The heavy machine momentarily lifted up awkwardly as the deafening roar sounded across the area. The SOTF officer was slain outright but aside from a few fragments of metal, Shildz was shielded from the blast. He lay unmoving, seemingly unconscious as more reinforcements from Birmingham neared the city.
Knight just had enough time to holster his gun, lift Nicola up onto his shoulders and bear her away, following on behind Weyland. His fitness and agility were such he’d caught up Weyland. It was like this that the two girls were carried towards the transport. Weyland narrating to the body camera he wore. In the upcoming information war of the incident, video footage with audio commentary was crucial to countering the hostile media forces.
At their vehicle both the girls were loaded in, Valerie in the passenger seat, Nicola in the rear along with Knight. By the time they’d moved off from the car park the police were just arriving at the college and construction site. By the skin of their teeth the Yeomen got clean away.
Before long they’d reached the A-Roads and were only a short distance from a manned border-crossing into Albion. The green hills and overlooking Pennine mountains were a reassuring sign and only then did both men relax enough to talk casually.
“That was a close one mate!” Weyland said with an intake of breath.
“I know, what was that thing he threw? A stun grenade?”
“I don’t know any stun grenade that can knock someone out as long as those girls have been. It could be SOTF are getting their own brand of gear to match our own.”
“These batons really are romper stomper Eric, I’ve never seen damage like it before.” Knight said still in a buzz with his adrenaline.
“Aye they are the business,” Weyland said, his mind was more concerned with the VIPs though. “How are the girls doing?”
Knight rechecked both girls. Nicola Woodvine had a cut to the forehead from her fall but both were breathing evenly and their pulses were steady.
“Good as far as life-signs, not so sure about their mental state though. We showed that gang though didn’t we?”
“Yeah you had to throw that mini-grenade eh?” Weyland said mostly in amazement and somewhat in admonishment too.
“That was a pursuit vehicle Eric, better it’s in pieces than on our arses mate.”
“Aye, but there was no need to shoot Omar.”
“He was invader filth! He’d have taken her then the other gang scum would have had their turn. Just like they did with Neville’s sister. As it was he had a sledgehammer handy.”
I was gonna takedown him with my baton, that way I could have wrung some more truth from him.”
“You wouldn’t have gotten much, the cops weren’t far behind either. There was no time for extracting him. Hell, dragging him four hundred yards, all the way to the car with the two girls? It was crossing the line Eric.”
“I’d have done it on the spot, thirty seconds and I’d have the low-down. Then he’d be liquidated, not before!”
Knight did not answer back but instead stayed silent. Both didn’t say anything else for a few seconds.
“Alright listen,” Weyland said calmly. “The Cadre Leaders are a new development. It sounds like Omar was a sleeper agent or a vanguard of some sorts. Low-level thugs who target people that don’t tow the government line. Send them into colleges, medium-sized businesses to act as snoops, bullies and snitches. They can act with near impunity if the state gives them a carte blanche.”
“That sounds like something they’d get up to. Yet it just reinforces what a few of the Colonels are saying.”
“What’s that then? The coming civil war? I hope we avoid that.”
“Yeah but this is a race-war when it comes down to their kind on this island Eric. You said yourself once that Albion and Britain are like two masters. Both are part of an island big enough for only one. The colonial folks are one thing, but millions more from deepest Africa and Arabia are quite another.”
“Yes but Yeomanry Operatives aren’t supposed to wage war like that during a ceasefire.”
“They were SOTF guys, you heard them call it out.”
“True, but the dead invader bodies will create a stir in the media, again. I’m not blaming you really, I made the call to move in to stop the gang rape, but there’s always consequences, even when good guys step in. You just have to be ready for the debriefing once we get to Eagle branch.”
Knight stayed quiet as realization dawned on him. For another score of minutes they drove on.
“It’s not all bad PR though,” Weyland said after a time. “I had my body cam working, so it ought to vindicate our work showing them acting like animals. We’ll see what the tech guys can do and our own media folks can spin. At the end of the day we got Valerie who is mostly unharmed I think. Her friend too if she wants to stay in Albion.”
“Speaking of which, that’s our checkpoint coming up after this next bend.”
Weyland made contact with the short-range radio and received specific entry instructions. Unlike previous times he was given orders to travel five more miles south-east. “This is strange,” Knight said thoughtfully, “normally we’re just waved through.”
“I think there were Ministry cops waiting on this side of the border. Words out about us, or at least Valerie.”
After they traveled distantly parallel to the borderline of Albion a vague country lane led back northwards to the border. They turned left and headed northwards.
At a small chain-link gateway two Yeomanry Provost from a nearby Land Rover were waiting. They opened it for them as they approached the safe-zone. Once through it Weyland powered his window down to talk to them. One of them moved close to him and he recognized the Provost as a Sergeant who normally garrisoned the Estates area.
“Raven Five and Crow Three. Operation Retrieve. Two VIPs. One primary and secondary.”
“Confirmed. Good to see you back Eric. The Colonel sent me to see you back in ok.”
“Much appreciated. Were the enemy waiting at that border crossing for us?” Weyland asked jerking his thumb in
the direction of the main crossing-point.
“Waiting and then some. There’s a load of Ministry guys pulling over everyone that’s trying to pass into Albion. Times are changing now, the enemy is setting up counter-crossings everywhere we have a manned crossing. Times will be harder for sneaky-beaky work.”
“Maybe have to go with airborne insertion and extraction in future times?”
“Maybe, or unmanned crossings in remote areas like this. Glad you called in advance though, sometimes your lot don’t bother.”
“Figured it was worth doing. Just as well eh?”
“Any updates?” asked Knight.
“None, just head to the Estates.”
Weyland put the car in gear as the Provost told him directions to get onto the main road to the Estates from where they were.
“Oh, and well done mate,” the ally said. “We were taking bets on whether you’d bring back the VIP. Good to see you made me some coin,” the Sergeant laughed. “Hey who is the other girl? I thought it was just for one VIP?”
“Oh you know what he’s like,” Weyland joked with a thumb at Knight, “He had to grab her mate for good measure.”
“You greedy gits,” the Sergeant laughed. “Safe travels Raven.”
They departed the area and the Land Rover headed back towards the main crossing. They were about halfway to the Estates when the first of the girls, Valerie began to stir.
“She’s pretty tasty your bird mate,” Knight said with a lusty grin. It was a comment meant in good faith, with no malice or ill-intention. Weyland’s lifted spirits of the mission finally being over were soiled slightly by the words. While Knight was a bachelor and would probably go about wooing one of the two girls after the debriefing. Weyland’s heart was with another, and she was in the heart of darkness spying for the Yeomanry.
“No mate, my woman’s in London, on the whims of Colonel Seymour.”