“Oh well, I can handle this mission myself,” he popped the magazine out of his M-4, checked to make it was full and reloaded it back into the weapon. He pulled back on the charging handle and found the weapon had a round in the chamber. He flicked off the safety and moved in the direction that Pauline had directed him to. He took small steps, placing heel down first and then rolling his foot down. This gait looked funny, but he had practiced it since his father instructed him how to move. This kept his body from jostling and allowed him to fire his weapon effectively and with deadly accuracy.
Chun moved a good hundred yards away from the hangar and toward the end of the runways. He came around a cluster of Seahawks and found the fenced off depot topped with razor wire. He stopped, dropped to his knee and scanned the area, looking for danger and fuel trucks. Nothing moved, and for some reason this unnerved him. He knew he and the team had been on a lucky run so far, but he knew Mr. Murphy would be popping his fucking head into the situation and ruin it. His father and Seal training had instilled in him to be on constant alert and never rush into anything.
As he scanned the fuel depot again, he spotted something blue sticking out from a corner. Chun moved faster but kept his focus on the direction, not the object. It was too easy to become fixated on the subject, that kind of loss of focus caused men to die. He altered his path to come in a wide arc, allowing him to see around the fuel depot. Once he found himself in a better position, Chun dropped back to his knee and again scanned the perimeter around the depot. He thought it was empty and almost gained his feet under him and moved on when he spotted movement near the truck. He dropped to his belly quickly and brought his rifle to his shoulder and peered closer at the place he had seen the motion.
He stayed still and waited. He had a patience that bordered on a statue level. “There,” he softly spoke to himself. He saw the shadow of what looked like a human moving just behind the other side of the truck. He took his sight off the object and scanned around it. “Again,” he said. Another shadow peaked out from the other side of the depot’s corner. He slid his head and looked to the left. He smiled at a better spot that provided a wider view of the truck’s other side. He got to his feet slowly, and moved at a pace that equaled a sick snail. After what seemed like hours, he came to his new spot. It was under the wing of an F/A-18C Hornet. The current bad ass strike fighter that the Navy relied on for a multitude of roles. Chun again dropped to his belly and took in the scene that was afforded to him by his new spot. Now he could see that the human shadow form he had spotted earlier was nothing more than a pair of coveralls stuck to the side of the truck and blowing in the ebbing wind. He moved the rifle sight and checked around the corner of the depot. This time the sight he found was one that he could not wrap his mind around. The movement he had caught earlier was most definitely a moving human. One which had been handcuffed to the gate of the depot, and one he could tell was not alive, if the cantaloupe size hole in its abdomen was any indication. Yet the creature still moved, yanking on its bonds and moaning in defeat. Chun got to his feet and made his way to the fuel depot’s fenced perimeter. He moved away from the creature, making sure it hadn’t seen him, and tried to stay downwind from it. The smell was not something he enjoyed, but he had no idea how these things tracked their prey. He moved around the fence, stopping and scanning his direct surroundings for danger. As he came to the opposite corner from the creature he stopped, dropped his M-4 on its sling and drew his sword.
He moved swiftly but quietly, a move he had practiced thousands of times with his father, during those long sparring sessions, so many years ago. His sword held high, he moved to just beyond arms-length of the creature, and shifted his weight, allowing him to put more strength behind his swing. The creature turned as if sensing the blade and was in the act of letting out a moan when its head was separated from its body. It landed on the ground and rolled, stopping face up and looking back to Chun. He watched it for a moment and when it didn’t move he shifted his stance and swung the blade a final time. The body fell to the ground, crumpling in on itself. Chun admired his handy work and noted that the hand and wrists were still encapsulated by the handcuffs and swung in the breeze. Chun tried to open the gate only to find it locked. He had never had to use a fuel dump and was not familiar with the process. He had no idea if a locked depot was normal or not, he had blown up a bunch of them in foreign countries, but that usually consisted of throwing a satchel charge over a fence or sliding it under a big fat tank. He stared at the big padlock and briefly thought about trying to shoot it off like in the movies, but knew that wouldn’t work. In the movie, a basic nine-millimeter pistol could blow a lock apart, but Chun knew you needed a shotgun with designed loads to attempt that, and at this moment he didn’t have one of those. He looked down at the body on the ground and hunched his shoulders in defeat. Chun raised his head and slowly scanned the vicinity, the last thing he wanted was to be on his knees rooting around in some dead guy’s pockets and getting attacked.
Finding himself alone, he took a knee and moved the body around, allowing him access to the creature’s pockets. He ransacked the body and found a key ring with two keys on it. One looked to be for the handcuffs and the other, he had no idea. He took the keys and tried to work them on the lock with no success. He moved to the fuel truck and checked the cab, he came up dry again. A thought came to him as he sat in the driver’s seat and climbed out, resigning himself to giving it a try. He stared at the flowing coveralls hanging from the side of the truck and moved over to it. He checked the pockets and came up with a big key ring. A couple of keys looked close to a fit for the lock. He jogged over to the gate and cycled through the keys, looking for the right one. He almost yelled out in celebration when one slipped into the lock and moved. He twisted the key and pulled the lock off, he thought about throwing it but a voice that sounded a lot like his dad's invaded his mind “Chun, are you really in such a hurry to get rid of an item that could end up being useful?” He dropped it into one of his many pockets along with the keys and unlatched the gate and slid it back and open.
Butch was in paradise as he stood in the weapon’s locker in awe over all the death and destruction that stared back at him. He found the roped off area Pauline had described to him and pointed at the weapon carts, “Alright gentlemen, grab all the deadly shiny toys and take them outside, to our new play thing,” Lupo, Dio and Hootie got to work, they made sure to grab every round and box, moving them out of the locker and through the warehouse. Butch helped push a heavy cart loaded with Hellfire missiles outside. On his way out, he identified the big rolling tool box that Pauline had said she would need. He pointed to it and then to Lupo who was coming back in to check out the weapons cache for future use and needs. Lupo rolled his eyes but grabbed the big tool box and rolled it out behind Butch. When they finished delivering everything to the Dragonhawk, they found Chun missing, but Pauline was up and looked a bunch better after copious amounts of water and food. She directed the men where to move the carts and went through directions on what she wanted done.
Hootie, of course, started bitching and moaning. “I am no mechanic, Petty Officer Macleod.”
Pauline spun on her heel and looked over to Hootie. Butch and the rest of the guys stopped to watch the unfolding scene. She stormed over until she was standing just inches from the big Seal, got to her tip toes and stuck her index finger into his face. “That is first class Petty Officer Macleod, you one nut, knuckle dragging, pencil dick, pus filled, glorified trigger puller. Last I checked, a First Class Petty Officer outranks a lowly lonely Third Class. So why don’t you stow your mouth and attitude and do as you’re fucking told!” She laid into him.
Hootie sputtered and for the first time any of the men had seen was left speechless. He opened and closed his mouth numerous times until finally he sputtered. “Aye, aye, First Class Petty Officer,” he moved quickly to follow his orders.
Butch couldn’t hold it in anymore and bust out laughing, so hard he had to bend over
and put his hands on his knees to help him try and breathe. Pauline shot a glance in his direction. “Master Chief, want to stop ass grabbing and get back to work?”
This made Butch laugh even harder. “Or what you are going to pull rank on me too?”
“No Master Chief, you are a much higher rank than I, but I will stride over there and kick you in the balls, maybe that will get you working. Last I checked this is my project and I have lead on it,” she gave him her best ‘try me’ scowl, with her hands balled up on her hips, legs spread.
Butch broke his laughing down to a chuckle and held his hands out, palms up, showing that he was giving up. “Yes, Petty Officer, what would you like me to do?”
Pauline calmed down and started giving out orders as she pulled the tools she was going to need. As she started bolting on the weapons and parts, a blue tanker truck moved towards them. Hashkeh was the first to move, quickly he pulled his 1911 and ran towards the truck. He paused and calmed as he recognized Chun driving. Chun pulled the truck near the Dragonhawk, but was smart enough to park it out of the way. He climbed out of the truck and made his way over to Butch. “Master Chief, how goes it here?”
Butch chuckled. “That little lady is a slave driver. She has already dressed down Hootie and shut his mouth. Oh, and she threatened to kick me in the balls.”
Chun looked over to Pauline and checked her over. “She isn’t more than what five foot nothing and probably weighs under a hundred and ten pounds? And yet she has successfully threatened and made this bunch of hairy killer Seals cower?”
Pauline turned her head to watch the two talking. “Hey, Master Chief. Don’t you have a job to complete? Maybe you can talk the Lt into being part of the solution instead of part of the problem by flapping his gums and bugging my team,” she turned and yelled something to Dio.
Chun raised his eyebrow at the dig from Pauline. “Well I guess I don’t need to wonder anymore. What can I do to help, Master Chief?”
The two worked on moving the Hellfire missiles Pauline directed them she needed. Three hours went by, and the sun was getting low in the sky, threatening to plunge into the ocean and snuff out the heat and light of the day. The Dragonhawk sat on the tarmac, fully armed and fueled. Butch was in awe at the menacing and dangerous machine. Chun climbed aboard and looked over the cockpit one more time, Pauline sat next to him and went over the firing procedures and use of the new sensors she had bolted and wired in. Once done, she moved out of the way as Lupo took the seat, acting as co-pilot for their little mission. Butch waited on the tarmac, as the rest of his team climbed aboard. He noticed the stacks of nylon rope that had been picked for this mission lying on the tarmac. He moved over and collected it, tossing it into the aircraft, where Hashkeh stowed it into place. With that done, Butch pulled on his heavy duty Kevlar leather gloves and stepped up into the aircraft just as Chun had lifted the mighty helicopter into the air. They climbed higher and higher, until they could see the city beyond the island and the fires that still ravaged it. The wind thankfully kept the majority of the smoke pouring east and away from the island, leaving the air clear and clean. Chun maneuvered the Dragonhawk over the airfield and toward the commissary, the horde came into view and could be seen reacting to the helicopter’s sound. They turned as one and raised their heads up to the helicopter. Butch hung his head out the window and ignored the wind whipping around his head. He watched the creature’s behavior and cocked his head thinking. He pulled his body back in and made his way to the cockpit, grabbing a headset off a hook and stuffing it on his head. “Chun, circle around the commissary and then head off toward the golf course. I want to see if those bastards will follow us,” Chun was very busy trying to fly the craft and instead of affirming Butch’s request with words he nodded his head.
Butch took his headset off and climbed back to the door again. He sat at the edge and tilted his body forward. Chun maneuvered the Dragonhawk in a wide circle around the commissary and then dipped lower towards the horde and slowed his speed down as he flew toward the golf course to the west. Butch watched as the horde as one, raised their hands to the sky and shuffled forward towards the helicopter as it moved away. Butch nodded his head in approval, and pulled himself back to the cockpit and donned the headset. “Excellent, we have a big chunk of them following us. Can you make a wide circle to the south and then come back up to the commissary from the city over the water? If we race ahead, they should lose sight of us and we can hurry around, before they can return.”
Chun again nodded his head and advanced the throttles, revving the engines and speeding up the Dragonhawk. Pauline came forward and studied the gauges, checking on her baby and making sure it was operating at peak performance. Chun swung the copter out over the ocean and shot down the island and the spit of land connecting it to an area close enough to Tijuana that you could almost taste the street tacos and Tequila. He banked the helo east and increased power. Chun was beginning to get a feel for the powerful Dragonhawk and was becoming a little more anxious to play with it. They were over the city proper quickly and Chun had to fight with the controls as the hot air created by the firestorm raging through the downtown area created updrafts and crashed it into them causing the helo to vibrate a little. Chun got control quickly and moved out over the water of the bay and pointed the Dragonhawk towards Coronado again. He flew over two aircraft carriers that were tied up to their moors. Nothing moved on the silent behemoths. Chun wished he had the men and know how to crew one of those bad boys. He would be unstoppable with their firepower and nuclear power would see to them not having to refuel for years. He maneuvered the helicopter in fast and flared out over the commissary, dropping to the roof fast and settling the Dragonhawk down. He chopped the power and the men climbed out fast and begun checking the roof for danger and obstacles.
Chapter 4
Butch strode over to the two massive skylights on the roof and tried to peer through. He used his gloved hand to wipe away some of the grime and used his hands to cup around his eyes to cut down on the dying light. He thought he saw movement from down below, then was surprised to see a green light waving in the air slowly. He smiled, knowing that someone was alive and knew they were there. He pounded on the window hard with three strikes, letting the people within know he was there.
Chun appeared by his side and looked down into the skylight and smiled at what he saw. “Alright men and woman, we have movement inside. Looks like someone is at least alive in there. Hashkeh and Dio get the ropes, Hootie, grab the harnesses. Master Chief, if you and Pauline can work on getting these things open I would appreciate it. Hootie help me come up with something to tie the helo down with, I want to secure it just in case we get some of that hot wind coming this way from the fires across the water,” the team broke up to complete their orders.
Butch and Pauline checked around the frame of the skylights and found that they could not be opened. First thought of Pauline’s was to break the glass, but Butch talked her out of it. “Falling glass is not a very nice thing to do to those poor souls down there. Try and think unconventional, the building has to have an access door or something,” he held his hand out to Pauline and she sheepishly took it.
“Don’t think just because I’m holding your hand means we are going steady now, Master Chief,” she gave him a smile that crinkled her eyes. They walked hand in hand around the perimeter of the roof and came across a steel trap door in the roof. It was secured and they could not open it no matter how hard they pulled.
“Must be padlocked from within,” Butch kneeled down and tapped on the door, quickly varying the length and pauses.
“I thought Morse code was a dying art?”
“Not to us, many times it has saved our lives,” he kept knocking then finally stopped and sat back waiting for a reply.
“What did you say?”
“I asked if anyone could hear me,”
A light knocking came from the door. Butch listened to it and closed his eyes as he worked out the message. He shrug
ged his shoulders and knocked back. “Someone just let us know they have no way of unlocking the trap door. I am now letting them know to stay away from the skylights.”
He finished his message and waited for the confirmation. When it came, he got to his feet, took Pauline’s hand, helping her to her feet and strolled back to the helo and skylights. When they arrived, Butch examined the windows again. He got to a knee and pulled his blade free. First, he attempted to pry a piece of the glass up, but the caulking holding it in place was too strong. When that failed, he put the blade away and whistled until he got Lupo’s attention. “Still got that steel baton you took from the gun store?”
Lupo reached into his pack and pulled it free. He handed it over and shook his head. “That is going to suck breaking open. The windows should be designed to be impact resistant. I would shoot it first then use the baton to crack through once it is weakened,” he suggested.
Butch shook his head. “No can do. The round might hit someone after it passes through. I will just have to make do,” he took the proffered baton and looked over the glass. “Petty Office Macleod, you are a structural mechanic. Any ideas?”
She bit her bottom lip and tucked some of her blonde hair that had come loose back under her ball cap as she thought. Butch couldn’t resist staring at her beauty. He had always been attracted to can do take charge women. She caught him gawking and stuck her tongue out at him. “Told you Master Chief, just because we held hands doesn’t mean anything,” Butch went beet red and coughed, trying to hide his discomfort. “I would suggest trying to break the glass near one of the corners. The center is going to be the strongest and will dissipate any strike through the glass. But in the corner the strike may cause more stress.”
Zombie Theorem (Book 4): Aces Mortis Page 10