by Tim Jopling
Chapter 16
Friday, March 9th 01:00,
Cracow, Poland,
Operation Reprisal.
Jordan pulled up on the handbrake and the van came to a halt on the thick grassy verge of a small wooded area. He ordered two of the agents to cover the van, so it would merge with the undergrowth. Jordan watched for a moment and then began to assemble his urban assault combat gear.
It consisted of a waist length tactical vest and a Kevlar helmet. Both were capable of stopping high power pistol rounds. Each unit member had been armed with their chosen pistols, a Colt M16A2 rifle and several flash bang capsules. These would prove useful when storming the closely guarded areas. The cartridge would provide seconds worth of blinding light, which could be the difference between life and death.
Olsen tightened his level III tactical vest and loaded his Colt M16A2 rifle. At that very moment, he thought of Rachel and immediately felt guilty, knowing what her reaction would be if she ever saw him dressed in such a way, holding a rifle. He gave his head a quick shake and led his team into the woods in single file.
The darkness covered every corner of their vision, with no lights of any kind visible in the distance. A scything cold wind cut through them. The team came out of the dense woods and into an area with more open grass.
Olsen noted the signal from Jordan at the front of the group and rushed ahead to join his colleague. With his back to a large tree, he looked over. ‘Problem?’ He whispered.
‘We’ve got some company. Seven o’clock.’ Jordan gave a point of his head in that direction.
Olsen followed his deputy’s gaze and caught sight of a slim man in his fifties who was walking through the open area and heading to the dense forest. Olsen flicked a switch on his Kevlar-plated helmet and studied the target in more detail through the green display of his night vision. ‘It’s a negative, just a local.’
Jordan looked again and shook his head. ‘Not a chance, that guy is one of Kiprich’s men, I can feel it. I’m moving to-’
Olsen grabbed his deputy by the neck and pulled him back. ‘I’m in command here, you either do what I say or you stay in the van! Are we clear on that?’
Jordan shrugged him off and got to his feet. ‘Crystal.’
As team S.U.C.O. separated into two units, Olsen made a point of making firm eye contact with Jordan. ‘Let’s finish this and get out of here. We’ve got a job to do.’ With Carter and the other agents behind him, they set off towards the storage area that was two and a half miles away.
Jordan watched them go and exchanged a look with Gibbs, his deputy. Frustration boiled away inside of him. Jordan was the senior agent, with fourteen years of experience over Olsen. For the first time in too long, he had been given the chance to lead a team, and he wanted to make it count more than ever. He gave a signal to the four agents under his command and led them through the undergrowth, passing a redundant water tower as the house appeared in sight. Taking cover behind the trees, Jordan flicked a switch on his vest and was instantly in communication between not only his team, but Olsen’s as well. ‘Team B be aware, we have now reached our target residence. Repeat your status?’
Two and a half miles away, Olsen heard Jordan’s voice and saw the outlines of the Kiprich brother’s storage facility ahead. It appeared to be half the size of a football pitch and was on the edge of the surrounding woods. A side road was not far from their position. Olsen noted two men standing guard. He felt mildly surprised as he’d been expecting more outside resistance. The switch on the front of his vest was set to ‘Send’. ‘Acknowledged, Team A. Have reached our target, enemy presence has been identified. Going in.’
Almost three miles away, Jordan did not receive the message. The house ahead looked empty on first impression. No guards were around the perimeter, the area was in darkness and appeared deserted. Are they asleep? Or, are the Kiprich brothers more worried about the storage facility? He gave a hand signal and led his team towards the target. As they closed in, there was still no sign of life.
Ferec stood completely still next to the Kiprich brothers in the dark, dense undergrowth that was opposite the house. Since sending the report to MI6, all three men, together with several armed guards, had been waiting in the forest for over three hours. Ferec looked over at Jozef, the more dominant brother. ‘Everything is in place, Jozef?’ He whispered.
Jozef watched the MI6 strike team sprint towards the house through his night vision goggles. He felt like laughing uncontrollably at the ease at which he had lured the enemy. Even Akira couldn’t accomplish this. ‘They won’t know what hit them. The hostages are there as well.’
Ferec looked round to face his friend. ‘Hostages? Who?’
‘Oh…just some locals I happened to see in the market square. They will serve their purpose.’ Jozef’s eyes intensified as he continued to watch the MI6 team. He looked behind, to the rest of the group. ‘Load your weapons and take position.’
Jordan positioned a small charge on the front door, moved back and gave a sharp nod of the head to detonate as the door blew clean off its hinges. His deputy threw a Flashbang cartridge into the first room and stormed in with another team member. Jordan rushed into the living room, but saw no sign of the Kiprich brothers or the rest of the group. He kept his rifle out in front of him at all times as he looked at two of his agents. ‘Check the bedroom, storm it!’ As the two men moved off, Jordan and his deputy burst into the kitchen, weapons at the ready. They lowered them slightly at the sign of another empty room. Jordan studied his surroundings and could see no sign of recent use, the kitchen tap looked frozen over from either the weather or lack of use.
Another team member came in, looking puzzled. ‘No sign of anyone in the bedroom or the other room’s sir. Is it possible they are all at the storage unit?’
Jordan looked away for a moment. ‘All of them? I don’t think so. Unless they really are storing something lethal at that place.’
‘SIR!’
Jordan swivelled around at the sound of the shout and rushed into the back room. His eyes turned wide at the sight ahead of him. Several adults were tied up and gagged. ‘What the hell?!?’
Gibbs could speak Polish and removed the gags from the mouths of two of the five adults.
Before anyone could talk the living room window exploded in a mass of flying glass. A large gas pellet flew in and dropped onto the wooden floor.
Jordan shut the door and rushed into the living room as he frantically searched in his backpack for his mask. ‘MASKS ON! NOW!’ He placed the mask over his face but saw one of his team struggle to breathe as he grasped his throat in a struggle for air. Jordan threw himself on the deck and frantically tried to call for backup on his radio as his remaining agents tried to locate the attackers and return fire. Adrenalin was surging though his body at speed, and with it the loss of control in his mind. ‘IT’S A TRAP!’
At the storage facility, Olsen and his team had dealt with the guards outside. As they waited at the door, neither of them could hear any sound emanating from the facility. Olsen decided to take the safe option.
‘Carter, circle this box house, check for other exits and terrorist backup. Go!’
As they moved off, Olsen placed a small charge on the doorway. The device did the trick. He rushed in and was presented with two aisles of storage racks, with an office at the far end. Olsen sprinted down the left aisle with his Beretta 92G pistol out in front of him at all times as he headed for the backroom. He heard a colleague give the all clear on his side, so continued. As he closed in, he flicked a switch on his communications device and sent a signal to Team A.
Silence.
‘Team A, come in.’ Seconds passed but still no reply came. Olsen kicked the office door clean off its hinges and swept the area with the sights of his pistol, only to find a storage bay full of redundant equipment. Olsen’s concern for Team A grew stronger and he felt the need to finish his task quickly. He laid the charges, set the timer to two minutes and rushed out of the storage
bay.
Jordan cursed loudly as he ducked down behind the nearest wall. Sniper fire smashed into the living room and kept him pinned down. The situation took a turn for the worse when he looked back and saw that two of his agents had been killed because their tactical vests had been penetrated by the sniper fire. A surge of dread filled every part of him as he realised the attackers were using the latest armour-piercing bullets. It was a struggle to be heard as the gunfire continued. ‘REPEAT, NEED URGENT ASSISTANCE, WE ARE UNDER HEAVY FIRE! OLSEN, CARTER, RESPOND!’ Jordan waited for a moment but still heard no reply. ‘SHIT!’ He could not even speak to his deputy five feet away, the noise level of the attack was so great. The question of whether his unit was damaged or if the attackers had found a way to block their transmissions came into his thoughts. We can’t stay here much longer! Jordan moved alongside a colleague to obtain a better viewpoint. Through his gas mask, all he could see was the dense, heavy undergrowth ahead of the house. He wondered just how long the attackers would wait until they would enter the building. Even the most positive guess did not make him feel any better. Jordan felt his stomach turn, but he stuck with his decision. ‘FOLLOW MY LEAD! WE’RE GETTING OUT OF HERE!’
At first, Gibbs and the other surviving agent didn’t move. The noise level made it almost impossible to communicate. Gibbs reloaded his rifle and fired several rounds in the direction of the undergrowth ahead. ‘WE SHOULD STAY AND FIGHT, SIR! IF WE CONTACT THE OTHERS, MAYBE WE COULD-’
No time for this! Jordan told himself, as he grabbed Gibbs, pulled him back from the line of fire and shoved him in the direction of the back door. ‘WE’RE LEAVING RIGHT NOW! GO!’ Jordan watched the last surviving members of his team move off as he stayed for a moment, in an attempt to draw the attacker’s gunfire.
Gibbs followed his colleague through the back of the house but watched his body jerk unnaturally as bullets rained in from all sides. Gibbs fell back into the living room and he saw to his right the kitchen back door being smashed down.
The attackers were moving in for the kill.
He cocked his rifle, turned and emptied a whole cartridge, spreading bullets in every possible direction. Fear took hold of him as he jumped over several bodies and made his way back to Jordan, in the hope that the more experienced leader would have an escape plan. Before he could speak a grenade blast shook the house. ‘WE LOST CARSTON! WHAT NOW?!’
Jozef heard the gunfire stop outside the kitchen door and looked up slowly. As he moved towards the house he saw his brother, beside him, get up and then drop to his knees. Jozef turned his back on the house with no thought for another attack, just concern over his only family. ‘Gyorgy! Are you all right?’ To his shock, he saw his brother clasp his chest, where blood was beginning to seep down his combat suit.
Jordan caught sight of the hostages in the corner of his vision and looked at his deputy. ‘WE DON’T HAVE A CHOICE!’ He held his weapon of choice, a black Glock .45 semi-automatic pistol in one hand and his Colt rifle in the other. ‘WE’LL HAVE TO TRY TO MAKE IT BACK TO THE VAN AND HOPE THE OTHERS ARE STILL ALIVE. READY? ON MY MARK!’
Gibbs turned his back on the scene behind him where he had lost another colleague. Suddenly, he grabbed his leader’s arm. ‘THE HOSTAGES! WE CAN’T JUST LEAVE THEM HERE!’
Jordan looked again at the room where the hostages were. He made an effort to crawl towards them but several more bullets flew in from the main window and forced him back. As hard as it was to make the decision, he just wanted to make it back to the van in one piece. ‘WE’RE LEAVING NOW!’
Gibbs looked to his leader, then back to the room. He immediately had his mind made up for him as the living room door was blasted off its hinges. He forced the images of the hostages from his mind and followed Jordan out of the front door as both men made a desperate run for the cover of the undergrowth not far away.
Jozef dragged his brother into the kitchen and continued to scream at his only family to stay with him. He gave an order to Ferec to cease fire on the house and then grabbed him by his shirt collar. His voice was full or vengeance, out of control. ‘Take the rest of the men and blow them all to hell!’ He found some towels in the kitchen and placed them on his brother’s chest, who was looking weaker by the second. One of his loyal guards loomed in the doorway. Jozef’s green eyes locked onto him. ‘I want a doctor here in the next five minutes or you’ll be on the floor with him. Move!’
From the next room, Jozef heard noises that made him investigate. There, in perfect health, were the five Polish locals he had rounded up for the operation. A bolt of surprise shot through him as he realised the MI6 team had left them behind. Jozef looked around the room and saw a Colt M16A2 rifle lying next to one of the fallen members of the MI6 strike team. He calmly placed a pair of gloves on his hands, picked up the weapon, took aim and without even a moment’s hesitation, fired every possible round from the rifle. His mind continued to boil over with fury…
Carter returned to the armoured van and looked back sharply at the exploding storage area. As everything died down, Olsen’s voice attracted his attention from behind, as he saw the group return. ‘What’s the score, Sam? Anything?’
Olsen shook his head quickly and reloaded his rifle. ‘Nothing. I’m more concerned with Jordan’s team, have you heard anything from them in the last five minutes?’
Carter shook his head. ‘No response.’
Olsen signalled to two of the agents. ‘You’re with me! Dan you’ll leave in the van with the others if we’re not back in ten minutes!’
Carter watched them go but caught sight of something ahead. ‘Wait, we’ve got company!’
Bullet fire hit the ground and the surrounding trees. Olsen and his team took cover behind the van. He grabbed hold of Carter. ‘Get to the van and start the engine! Move it, Dan!’ He watched his close friend set off as more bullets came closer to their targets. ‘And keep your head down!’ Olsen turned to another agent. ‘You’re with me, we provide cover for any survivors!’
Carter pulled out his Heckler and Koch P7M8 pistol as he watched Olsen return fire. The dark-skinned agent saw his chance, crawled round the side of the van and took cover behind the front seats. He flicked a switch on his radio and screamed into his helmet, which would relay back to Olsen. ‘READY!’ Ahead, the attackers could be seen to be moving forward to make the final push. Carter took a Level III tactical vest from the racks and placed it over his existing armour as he made a move to the driver’s seat.
As the engine roared to life, Carter turned the van around. In the rear-view mirror he saw Jordan and Gibbs emerge from the undergrowth.
Jordan made it to the van and was out of breath. ‘Get this thing moving!’
Carter revved the engine again but wasn’t going to leave without Olsen.
‘Get us to the rendezvous point, Dan?’ Asked Olsen, who climbed on board. ‘I’ve sent a signal to the recovery team, not sure if it reached them, there is interference all around us. All being well, the chopper should be waiting.’
Carter’s left shoulder was bleeding. ‘No sign of them following us. Hold on!’ The van turned sharply onto the main road and sped towards the checkpoint. It looked like they were going to make it after all…
Ferec emerged from the shadows and discontinued his pointless fire. The MI6 team had escaped. He picked up his radio and attempted to contact Jozef.
‘How is Gyorgy, my friend?’
Jozef leant back against several kitchen units and heard the radio message almost from a long distance away. For the past few minutes, he had watched a doctor attempt to save the life of his beloved brother. He picked the radio up and raised it to his mouth, but for a moment he didn’t know what to say. ‘The doctor is with him now, Ferec. Gyorgy has been critically injured.’ His tone changed to one of indifference. ‘The MI6 team?’
Ferec paused for a moment and didn’t want to give his friend more bad news. ‘I am sorry, Jozef. They eluded us this time. I will see you shortly.’
Jozef dropped the radio and watched the doctor continue his efforts. For a moment, the thoughts of MI6 simply faded away as his childhood and every waking memory of his twin brother consumed him.