by Leo Nix
Kerrie Black was being tended by Fortune, the Delta medic. She was feeling faint and Fortune knew she was in shock, for many reasons. It was a combination of the heat, the horror of the fight, the loss of her friends and the loss of blood from her wound. She was exhausted and needed rest.
“Burger, help me out here, buddy,” he called as Kerrie fainted in his arms. Burger climbed out of his vehicle and jogged over to help Fortune ease Kerrie into the back seat of the Landcruiser. “She'll be out for at least an hour,” said Fortune as he injected their last vial of precious antibiotics into her arm, “you'd better keep an eye on her while I see what I can do for Hooky.”
Fortune then attended the tactical police officer, ex-SAS corporal, Paul 'Hooky' Pan. His collarbone didn't appear to be broken, it looked like his shoulder had dislocated and then popped back in during the fight.
“How's that feel, Hooky?” asked Fortune as he gently moved Hooky's arm back and forth.
“Yeah, it's a bit better now. I was sure I'd broken my shoulder or something in there,” Hooky replied, his eyes scrunched up tight as Fortune moved his arm back and forth again, this time in slightly larger arcs. “I'll be right soon enough. Don't worry about me, mate, just look after Kerrie, she's a gem.”
“Kerrie's asleep, Hooky, it's rest she needs more than anything. She's lost too many friends today, we all have,” said Fortune fixing a proper sling for Hooky's arm. Fortune's scar stood out bright on his sunburned face. “You just take it easy, buddy, we might need that arm of yours to hold a weapon. We have a lot of desert to cross and no idea what we'll meet on the way.”
Obi-Wan took another bite of the salted lobster they had packed for just such an emergency and studied his map.
“This road heads towards the Northern Territory. We'll have to head cross-country to get to this place, Meekatharra. There are a few farms out here too, we'll stop at them for fuel and supplies.” Obi-Wan lifted his cap and squinted into the sun as he rubbed his sweaty forehead. “Skip, can you get anything on the radio?”
“Nothing, no satellite, no Maverick, no Pine Gap, nothing.” Skip left the radio set and walked over to Obi-Wan. “I wonder what happened to the chopper? It's stealth, has the best counter-measures on the planet. Hooky said he saw it drop downwards like it was hit by one of those SAMs, but we don't know what happened to it. It could have packed up and gone home for all we know.”
Burger was in hearing range and walked over to the two. Danielle was now with him still holding on to his arm. Hooky noticed and felt a sense of loss. How he wished he was the one she was holding onto.
“I think they might have gone to the first fuel cache, what do you reckon?” Burger asked.
“Yeah, makes sense…” said Skip, “but this scrambler jamming our signals and those bullshit stoppages we're experiencing from Pine Gap, it pisses me off. We're blind and we've got, what, two, three thousand kilometres of desert to cross? We'll be driving forever. If we don't run out of water we'll run out of fuel and if none of that happens our vehicles will fall apart on us.”
“Hey, buddy,” said Burger, the good-looking Samoan Ranger, “come on, you're supposed to be our Aussie tour guide here, we'll make it. It might take us a month but we'll get to Pine Gap, just chill out a bit.”
Skip smiled, his face was covered in grime and dried blood, the cut to his cheek was starting to scab over and it burned when his salty sweat entered the cracks his smile made.
“Damn, it itches when I smile.” Skip ran his fingers gingerly through his short, thick red beard, then wiped at the sweat dripping down his face. “Yeah, you're right, Burger, we'll make it. Not by tomorrow like we planned, but we'll do it.” Skip left them to go back to his radio.
The scorching sun was shining down on them as Obi-Wan called everyone together.
“Right, we've enough food and water for about three days. We'll eat now then we'll head off. We've had to leave some of our gear behind in the other vehicles but there are some farms on the way into the desert itself that we can visit for supplies.” Obi-Wan pulled at his short, unkempt blond beard then drank deeply from the water bottle Murphy handed him. “Thanks, Murph. We've got about three or four hundred k's drive to get to Meekatharra. We'll stop there and stock up on fuel and food, then we'll drive night and day until we get to Pine Gap.” He paused to straighten his map. “We'll only stop to swap drivers, no CB chatter unless it's an emergency. Questions?”
Julie, the tall, attractive lawyer, spoke up. “Obi, we're deadbeat, do we have to drive all night? Why not spend a few days at Meekatharra and get some proper sleep. We've got three thousand kilometres of desert driving ahead of us. I think we'll all be needing a few nights of decent sleep before we leave Meekatharra.”
Trisha looked at Julie and gave a slight nod. “That's a good idea. I'll second that, even one night in a proper bed won't hurt.”
Obi-Wan nodded his head up and down as he processed the many possibilities. “Sorry, girls, we're too close to the enemy. All they need do is send a patrol to Meekatharra or get word that we're in the vicinity and we're history. Don't forget we have wounded and civilians. We're not a fighting patrol we're compromised and retiring to home base.”
“It's going to be tough, Julie,” said Skip, his beard still a mess of dried blood. “We can sleep in the vehicles while we drive. It's not the best but we have little choice. Maybe once we're in the deep desert we can take a day off but right now, I'd prefer not to.”
Julie stepped up to Skip, waiting for him to notice her so that she could wipe the blood off his face. The two had grown closer since that night they had made love - they now spent most of their free time together.
The girls looked at Obi-Wan, they saw he wouldn't change his mind. “OK, it was just a suggestion,” said Trisha, the bubbly party girl. She scuffed her feet in the dry sand, “but at Meekatharra I bags buying the first beer!”
That first day of driving through the desert Ranger Corporal Burger began to struggle with the reality of having a new love in his life, Danielle. He realised that he still grieved the loss of his wife and family. Sitting in the vehicle he had time to reflect. 'This is all too much, too fast. I need to pull back a bit before I get hurt again,' he thought as he sat in the driver's seat and started the engine.
Burger, Fortune and Danielle now drove off behind Obi-Wan. The three vehicles made a convoy as they drove cross-country to Meekatharra. It took them much longer than they expected.
Fortunately they met some healthy kangaroos, wild goats, and even some cattle on their journey, and ate them. The farm stations were few and far between, they decided to only visit when desperate. They had enough food from their rations and what they shot and dried; and enough water from the few dams and water-holes they came across. But fuel was getting low as they approached the mining township of Meekatharra.
“Shhh,” whispered Obi-Wan, “they're probably all sleeping.” Murphy, Pipeline and Burger were lined up behind him on the outskirts of Meekatharra. The convoy had arrived late that evening. Immediately Obi-Wan organised a reconnaissance of the town with the intent of filling their fuel tanks. He also considered that a meal and a beer or two at the Royal Mail Hotel would be good for morale. After their gruelling desert crossing the possibility of a cold beer was worth investigating.
“Burger, you and Pipeline check out the petrol station, meet me back here in five.” Obi-Wan turned to Murphy. “Murph, I need eyes inside that hotel, you're with me.”
The fuel station was close to their entry point and proved to be a winner. Electricity was supplied by solar panels to the entire Meekatharra region. All they needed to do was switch the pumps on from inside the station and they could pump as much diesel as they needed. Pipeline and Burger investigated the station itself, the door was unlocked and by shielded flashlight they checked to make sure they could fill their cans in the dark. Once satisfied the two headed back to their rendezvous point.
While Obi-Wan waited for Murphy he saw a half dozen four-wheel drives pa
rked in the rear car-park. It looked like they belonged to visitors staying at the hotel. Carefully shielding their flashlights they saw, lying on the backseat of one of the vehicles, magazines of AK47 ammunition and what was definitely female underwear.
“If these are our friends from Geraldton then we've got a fight on our hands. They could be dingo or kangaroo shooters but those panties and bra just don't quite fit my image of a rugged, outback kangaroo shooter,” whispered Murphy with a grin. He wanted so much for the Perth Revelationists to be sleeping in the hotel, he was spoiling for a fight.
They made their way to the back door of the Royal Mail Hotel. The rear door was unlocked so entry was simple. It was pitch black inside, there wasn't even a night light.
Silently the two began the slow but thorough examination of the downstairs bar, lounge, toilets and kitchen. They found nothing to suggest terrorists were staying there. Obi-Wan motioned for Murphy to follow him up the stairs.
They found a lounge room with a wide-screen TV, the room was large enough for a dozen or more visitors. This was where they found their first confirmation that the enemy were staying at the hotel.
In an ancient armchair slept a large man, beside him leaned an automatic rifle, an AK47, and an empty bottle of Bundaberg rum. Murphy looked at Obi-Wan and opened his eyes wide in anticipation. There was enough light for Obi-Wan to recognise Murphy wanted to put the man into a deeper sleep, one he wouldn't wake up from. Obi-Wan finished searching the room then motioned for Murphy to do the deed.
The SEAL grabbed the man by his greasy hair and slashed his knife across the man's throat. As he sliced deeply through both the terrorist's jugular vein and carotid artery he whispered, “This is for killing my friends, you bastard.” He released his grip on the man's hair letting his head drop to his chest, the man was very dead.
Obi-Wan had kept guard, now he inspected the man's weapon and ammunition. He collected what he could including a grenade and a knife. He handed the AK47 and webbing pouch filled with ammunition magazines to Murphy. He then motioned for his buddy to leave the gear in the stairwell while they went from room to room silencing the terrorists - at least that was their intention.
The first room they came to wasn't locked, they slowly opened the door and crept in. The blinds were pulled down and the room was pitch black. Murphy switched his flashlight on and covered it with his hand. The glow was enough to show a man and a woman asleep in the bed, curled into a spoon shape. Obi-Wan had the terrorist's knife in his hand. It had a razor sharp, 8-inch blade, perfect for killing.
'Right now I'd just love to have my old Ruger GP 100. Damn, I'd have some fun,' he thought. The pistol he had in his webbing was an old M1911, one he'd taken from the terrorists in Geraldton. 'There just aren't any decent pistols in this whole darn country.'
Obi-Wan held his knife in his hand as he deliberately slung his automatic rifle over his back, keeping it well out of the way of his killing arm. With a swift and decisive movement he plunged his new-found knife into the neck of the sleeping male. Immediately he withdrew the blade and plunged it into the back of the female. Their bodies stiffened then relaxed. The solidly built Ranger staff sergeant leaned on the twisting bodies until they'd settled to a deathly stillness. It wasn't pleasant and he didn't enjoy it. It was a task that just had to be done.
Something then fell, crashing beside the bed. The noise was so loud that both special ops froze where they were - listening. Murphy turned off his torch and they waited, pistols drawn.
“Can't you pair stop having sex for five minutes? We've got a big day tomorrow! Arseholes!” cried a male voice from the room next-door. The walls were so thin they could hear him fart as he settled back into his bed.
The two soldiers now checked the room for weapons and gathered what they could carry without compromising their stealth, and executions.
The next room was also unlocked. Inside was a female, sound asleep, snoring softly. With the blinds up there was just enough light to see her lying on her back, naked except for a sheet covering the lower part of her body. Murphy drew his knife and stabbed upwards, up into the woman's chest and into her heart. She stiffened then slumped. There was no noise except her release of breath, it made no more sound than her snoring had.
So far they had been successful in delivering death to four of their enemy, but Obi-Wan was getting nervous, something was wrong, his breathing accelerated.
Murphy noticed and checked the room. He held up a pair of men's trousers for Obi-Wan to see.
'Damn,' thought Obi-Wan, 'she's got a lover and he must have gone out for a smoke or a piss.' He motioned for Murphy to step behind the door while he positioned himself on the other side. Murphy indicated that he would take the man down. Just then the sound of an approaching pair of bare feet came to them through the closed door, the door swung open.
“What the..!” cried the man loudly, just before Murphy's hand found his throat. The man didn't have time to say anything else, his guts spilled onto the floor as Murphy's knife sliced up through his stomach and into his heart.
But that was enough to waken the terrorists. There were sounds of movement, voices calling to each other, a door swung open.
At a nod from Obi-Wan the two raced quietly along the hallway and down the stairs. The Ranger set up position ready to fire into anyone coming down the stairs while Murphy raced for the door to signal to their two buddies.
“What's going on here!” cried the same male voice they'd heard earlier, he stomped loudly along the hallway. “I've fuckin' told you lot to shut-the-hell-up and get some sleep. It's 4 o'clock in the fuckin' morning and we've…” his voice suddenly ceased and Obi-Wan knew the man had found the dead bodies. The light in the hallway came on as the sounds of movement grew into shouts and orders. The hotel now turned into a boiling cauldron of terrorists.
“Perfect,” whispered Obi-Wan removing the pin from the terrorist's grenade. He waited for the sounds of movement to approach his position then pulled the pin. He gently lobbed the grenade into the hallway above, then raced for the back door.
There were shouted yells then the sound of an explosion. This was followed by screams, all hell broke loose as Obi-Wan was joined by his recon team.
Smoke billowed out of the windows and doors, flames illuminated the terrorists as they ran to escape.
The special operatives positioned themselves at all exit points and opened fire as the enemy tried to escape the building. 'Fire superiority' in a situation like this is a strategy that not only kills but it also terrifies and forces the victims to make mistakes. The terrorists made the big mistake of trying to get out of the building where they were quickly cut down.
The sounds of gunfire not only woke the township it also alerted the remaining special ops team waiting beside their vehicles parked not far from the hotel itself.
“Fortune, I'm going in to see what's up. Get the girls ready and have the vehicles started. I'll come back with news, give me five minutes,” called Skip as he raced towards the sound of firing.
He could now clearly see the action centred on the hotel, as he got closer he saw his team members firing. There appeared to be no return fire. He saw his friend and called out to him. Obi-Wan motioned for him to stay where he was. Skip immediately prepared for any terrorists who may have been billeted in some of the houses in the town.
With the intensity of firing into the hotel no-one noticed Burger hit by gunfire and slump to the ground. The big Samoan Ranger knew that he was hurt bad. His jaw stiffened and his chest wouldn't let any air in. He tried to crawl towards his buddies, tried to call out, but he hurt too much inside. The bullets had gone deep into his chest smashing muscle, bone, organs and punctured his lungs.
Pipeline looked to see where his friend was, it was standard practice to know exactly where friendlies were. Burger wasn't at his station. When he scanned the ground a second time he saw a figure curled-up on the ground.
“Obi!” he called, “Burgers hit, I'm going over to check on him.
”
There was no longer any movement or noise from inside the hotel, so Obi-Wan motioned for Skip to come to him. Before he could get a word out they heard Pipeline's voice rise then catch in his throat.
“Obi, Burger's dead,” he cried with a rush of emotion that choked his voice, it came out more as a sob than a statement. “He's just dead.” Pipeline had to say it again. The big man collected what he could of his friend's gear and trotted over to Obi-Wan's position. “He's dead, Obi,” he repeated to himself, his head bowed.
The township was now alive with movement but no one had come near the special operatives around the hotel. It appeared that the terrorists were either dead or subdued. Obi-Wan made the decision to bring the vehicles in and fill them up, now, before the terrorists re-organised, if there were any left.
Skip left with Burger's gear and ran back to the vehicles, he didn't say anything just tossed the gear into his Toyota and signalled for the girls and Fortune to follow. They silently filled their tanks and jerry-cans at the fuel station.
Obi-Wan took a confused Danielle aside and told her that Burger had been killed. It was an unpleasant task that had to be done. Danielle burst into tears and collapsed to the ground. Julie and Emily saw and raced over to comfort her.
By now the garage owner was there. He was confused and angry, as were some of the townsfolk who came to see their precious hotel going up in flames.
“What the hell is going on here?” asked Joey the mechanic and garage owner. “I go to bed with the missus and wake up at 4 am to gunfire, the hotel's in flames and some bastard's stealing my diesel…”
He moved to stop the boys from helping themselves to load up their vehicles and jerry-cans - with his fuel.
“Now you can't do that, fella's. Come on, I've gotta make a living.” He stopped when he saw the look on Skip's face.
“You had terrorists living in that hotel of yours, you lot should be ashamed of yourselves,” said Skip, his face reflected his fury and grief at the loss of his good friend, Burger. “I'd suggest you cooperate or you'll be one sorry bastard.” His voice was cold and hard.