by John O'Brien
Her mind settles to some extent but there is still the feeling of being overwhelmed. She doesn’t feel the kick anymore and has the dawning realization that she is out of ammo. Her mind settles even more as she ejects the mag and reaches for another. Burst fire, fire in bursts, Lynn’s instruction comes to her. Lynn had instilled that time and time again during their training. Trigger control. Bri realizes she’s burned through her entire mag without letting up on the trigger.
Slamming a fresh mag into the lower receiver, she hears the tinkling of expended brass as it scatters across the floor. The sight of so many night runners to her front, trying to pour into the room, almost brings the panic, held just barely below the surface, back up. She lays her dot on the horde at the door being met with a hail of steel as the other teams join in. Well, the one to their right anyway. A flash goes through her mind that this is because her dad is backing away from the counter and towards the door from the counter on her left, adding his own rounds to the mix. His position is preventing the team to her left from engaging. She realizes that her dad is actually angling toward her and Red Team.
Night runners are piling up on the floor at the door. Her mind calms. She pulls the trigger in short bursts; this time finding and focusing on individual targets rather than just firing a stream of bullets into their midst. She sees her dot settle on one face and she squeezes. The face vanishes behind a burst of something splashing in the air. She realizes it is blood and registers the fact that she has killed her first night runner. Sure she fired a whole mag into them but this is the first that registers in her mind; that she actually records as a memory.
Several night runners make it past the doorway and branch off to the sides. Bri alters the direction of her barrel and feels her finger press against the trigger. One of them falls to her rounds but others make it by. She continues firing into those that slide along the wall attempting to get around them. She has forgotten the fast beating of her heart and nervousness. The fear is still there but now is associated with action so it stays below the surface. There are only targets. She hears the muted barks of Gonzalez’ and Robert’s carbines to her side but those are only informational thoughts. She’s in a different world.
“Get out now!” She vaguely hears her dad yell as she fires at another night runner streaking along the wall in front. It slams against the wall as her rounds find the mark. She looks up to see her dad standing next to her, his boots straddling the dead one’s open-jawed head.
“Gonzalez, move back now. Robert, Bri, move!” Her dad shouts.
Bri becomes aware of the sheer number of night runners in the hall beyond the doors being held open by the bodies of the dead and injured. Many have also made it to the sides of the room but are taken down by the teams to the side and behind her. The dread of seeing so many night runners and the danger of her situation intrudes upon the other world she was in. She responds to the urgency of her dad’s voice and rises with the rest of Red Team. Together, they back towards the door still adding rounds into the fray. Bri stops firing when she sees her dad directly in front of her. It’s then that she notices the floor in front of her lit by the light coming in the door. Bri feels a tap on her shoulder.
She turns and sees Gonzalez motion her out of the door. Drescoll and Lynn are at the door guiding everyone out. Besides her dad, Red Team are the last ones still inside. Bri turns and runs out of the door followed by Robert and the rest of Red Team. Her dad is the last one out. Roars, howls, and shrieks pour out of the door with them. They’ve made it.
Bri’s awareness returns and she realizes she’s panting. She feels like she’s run for an hour and can’t catch her breath. Bending over, with her hands on her knees, she feels an arm around her. She doesn’t feel nauseous but vomits anyway. The eruption is sudden and unexpected.
“Happens to all of us the first time,” she hears Gonzalez say. “It’s the adrenaline.”
She feels another arm fold around her. “Are you okay?” She hears her dad ask.
“Yeah, Dad, I’m okay,” she answers wiping saliva from her chin.
“You should’ve seen this little warrior in action, sir. She took down the entire front line of night runners on her own as soon as they broke in,” Gonzalez says to her dad. “I’m not sure I’d even finished yelling ‘fire’ when I heard her gun start chattering.”
Her eyes light up with this little bit of unknown news. She had no idea. Her heart swells hearing Gonzalez call her a little warrior. She hears Robert tell her nice job and her heart swells a little more. If she could only remember; it all happened so quickly. Henderson and Denton add their kudos. “That was a lot like Robert during his first action,” she hears McCafferty say. “You two are kin.”
She looks up into the face of her dad standing before her. He is giving her a look over to see if she is in fact alright. He has always been protective of her and Robert in a loving way. Not too overly protective as he also lets them get into trouble at times. Nothing dangerous although some of the stories Robert shared of his and her dad’s time after a weekend together made her doubt some of that ‘not too dangerous’ aspects though. There were times when he was a little overly protective but those were infrequent. She feels this is one of those times and loves him for it.
“Jack,” she hears Lynn call. A momentary flash of fear crosses her dad’s face. Her dad looks behind him as if looking for a place to hide. Shrieks can still be heard emitting from inside the ER.
“We can’t call you a noob anymore,” Robert says as her dad walks away towards Lynn.
* * *
Needless to say, the ass-chewing by Lynn wasn’t pleasant but all-in-all, it wasn’t bad. I’ve had worse. My kids and everyone are okay and that’s what matters. The tan binder I found contains diagrams of the facility but I don’t know what good they’ll be. It doesn’t look like we’ll be able to use the place. We won’t be able to clear this place short of using an entire battalion and that’s still even odds. I think of the hordes that poured in the door and both of my kids in the room. The memory still leaves me shaky. Yeah, Lynn’s ass-chewing wasn’t without validity. I told her they needed to learn and accumulate some experience but both she and I know that was just me making excuses. Part of what I said is true about wanting to give Bri some experience but not against a horde like that right off. Thankfully, the door was close and we could exit quickly.
I look over the parking lot and the expanse of the buildings. I’m standing with the others in our group and about to have everyone saddle up.
“Dad,” Robert says.
“Yeah, what’s up?” I ask thinking he wants to talk about the action or even my bringing Bri inside. Maybe to give some assurance that I did the right thing in letting her go or coming to Bri’s defense in some manner. None of my thoughts about what he wants pan out.
“If those walls,” he starts pointing the concrete wall surrounding the hospital, “can keep night runners out, won’t they keep them in too?”
The sheer brilliance of his unspoken idea, or I should say the sheer lack of my own, explodes in my mind like a firecracker. Duh, I think. The others stare at him as if saying the same thing and having their own epiphanies. Such a simple yet brilliant concept and one that completely slid by everyone present.
“You, my son, are absolutely right and brilliant,” I say. We’ll just keep the night runners locked up in here and visit in a few weeks after they’ve starved to death. Well, I hope it’s a few weeks and they don’t have some super hibernation skill that allows them to live indefinitely without food.
We head back to base. Next on the agenda is going out to look for the families of the soldiers who fit within the parameters. We’ll have to reorganize one of the teams so we’ll have two teams going out. All of Red Team is going but the others are scattered among the other teams. I may have another team go as added security. I’d like to get going soon. I’ll talk with the team members about where we need to go and begin flight planning. And yes, my kids are going because it’
s damn tough to fly a 130 alone. If we don’t leave soon, we’ll miss our opportunity.
Talking with Bannerman that night, we make plans to hit the distribution centers upon our return as we have enough to keep us going for a little while. Not through the winter, but a while longer.
I sit with Lynn, Robert, Bri, and Red Team that night for dinner. The kids usually eat with their mom but with the action of the day, they seem to want to spend it with their team. There are a certain amount of war stories told with some embellishments. Well, maybe those were my own. A flash of a picture goes through my mind.
I look up from the fork that is half way to my mouth. Sure I have pictures and thoughts in my head all of the time. This is different. I don’t know how to describe it other than to say it isn’t my own. More flash through and I have a momentary feeling like I’m going crazy; you know, the voices in your head thing. But this is more than that. I can understand what they’re saying. I know, weird, but the pictures are like a language and I know what they are saying. It’s just an occasional flash but it’s clear nonetheless.
“Are you okay, Jack?” Lynn asks.
I don’t answer but rise and walk downstairs to the front door. I hear Lynn following with the “Jack, are you listening? I know you can hear me.” I wave her question away with my hand and hold a finger to my lips when we reach the door.
There, there it is again. It’s like I’m hearing part of a conversation. I can actually feel where it’s coming from. I know, this is weirding me out as well. I stand at the door with my head tilted; listening.
“Jack, what the hell is going on?” Lynn finally intrudes on my wish for quiet.
“They’ve cornered a small pack of dogs,” I answer.
I Shall Not Return
Chief Petty Officer Vance Krandle looks toward the compound a couple of hundred meters away from an overlook position they found a couple of hours ago. The dark jungle around them stirs only slightly with the animals of the night. They landed in this god-forsaken place two nights ago and made their way cautiously to this location. Avoiding the small villages along the rutted, rocky jungle road, they paralleled it here. He can’t see the other team hidden nearby but the others of his team lie close.
“What do you think?” His point man quietly asks.
“I haven’t seen any movement so far,” Vance answers.
“Do you think we have the right place?”
“Has to be. The coordinates match with the satellite Intel,” he answers.
“Yeah, but shouldn’t there be lights on or something? I mean, they don’t even have guards posted. Guard towers, yes, but guards, no,” the point man asks.
“Maybe they went to bed early but it does seem a little odd for the guards not to be out,” Vance replies.
“Think they know we’re here then?”
“I suppose that’s always a chance but I doubt it. They’d have hit us earlier or set an ambush,” Vance whispers not taking his eye off the compound.
He is relaxed but feels his nerves tighten. He’s seen a lot but there’s something about this that doesn’t seem right. Compounds of this nature always have lights on unless they’re trying to hide from overflights of aircraft or satellites. And to not have guards posted when it’s evident they are meant to be there adds to his worry.
They were alerted with little to no warning for this mission. That in itself wasn’t unusual and they all took it in stride. Satellite footage had picked out this encampment and Intel had it that this was the leader of a large group of terrorists that has been causing havoc in the local area for the Philippine government. A government asking for help wasn’t anything unusual either. Whether the U.S. responded with the help was a matter of whether the mission supported current doctrine or if the U.S. wanted an IOU in their back pocket. Apparently this fit into one or the other category. They were here and it didn’t matter why. This was their job. The State Department had their job and CPO Krandle had his.
They had five days to accomplish their task. Their mission was to 1.) Infiltrate to the compound and verify that the leader and group were indeed using this location as their base of operations, 2.) If the opportunity presented itself, to take out the cell leader, and 3.) Rescue the Australian journalist that the group was believed to have captured a week prior. The cell was also believed to be responsible for ‘intercepting’ a Red Cross shipment of flu vaccines and other medical supplies.
They would have five days to accomplish any or all of their mission before they were to meet up with a fast attack submarine lying off the coast. If they were able to take out the leader, well, it would be a big IOU by the local government. If they were only able to positively identify his location, there would be a lesser IOU. Rescuing the hostage would bring the thanks of the Australian government along with a big publicity coup. The State Department men, in their dark suits, that briefed them made it abundantly clear that the removal of the cell leader was the optimal solution.
“Blue Team, move to my location at the southeast corner,” a voice calls quietly in his ear piece.
“On our way, sir. Do want me to leave an overwatch at my location?” Vance whispers using his throat mic.
“Negative. Everyone goes inside,” Vance hears.
“Okay, guys, you heard LT, let’s go,” Vance whispers to his teammates.
“Shouldn’t we leave an overwatch,” his point man whispers back.
“The LT doesn’t think we need one, now let’s go,” Vance answers.
They make their way silently down the ridge overlooking the compound. The rough, rocky road lies to their left as it snakes its way down into the small valley. The dense vegetation shows with a green glow through their goggles and slows their progress. Six men silently creeping through the jungle growth; weapons ready for the first sign of violence and senses heightened. There’s a tension pervading the atmosphere as each feels something isn’t quite right about this mission. But they are professionals and have been in tight situations before. They continue.
“Coming in, sir,” Vance whispers in his radio as he draws near the coordinates given.
“Copy, come on in,” a voice answers. The point man takes several more steps before a head rises above a dense patch of foliage. They’ve found the other team.
The wooden walls of the compound lie just a few meters through the trees and across a small open area that has been cut back from jungle. Vance and the LT hunker down in the middle of the perimeter of men keeping a sharp eye on the surrounding area.
“How do you want to play this, sir?” Vance asks.
“We’ll creep up to the edge of the trees and take a last look at the guard towers. If it’s still clear, I want your team to cover as we go over the wall at the southeast corner, then follow,” the LT says.
“Okay, sir. We could just about stroll in through the front gate. Shit, they even left that open,” Vance replies. A scream from within the camp rises loudly and resounds across the jungle.
“What the fuck was that?! Sir,” Vance asks as he turns and aims his suppressed M-4 toward the sound.
“They must be torturing that poor girl. Or worse,” the LT responds.
“I have to tell you I don’t like this. No lights. No guards. Front gate open. Something just doesn’t feel right about this,” Vance adds.
“We have our mission and it’s obvious someone is in there,” the LT replies. “Let’s move.”
They creep to the edge of the jungle and observe the ten foot walls surrounding the various buildings within. Vance eyes the guard towers; the tops of which he sees over the walls. Nothing moves and he doesn’t see any sign of anyone occupying them. Another scream echoes from within the compound. It doesn’t even sound human to Vance and the adrenaline rushes through. He and his team keep an eye on the front and along the walls as the other team materializes from the undergrowth and dashes to the wall; silent shadows moving in the night.
He watches as they deploy tactical ladders and start quietly scaling the rough wall
. They glide over the top and disappear into the compound.
“We’re in. Move up,” Vance hear the LT call.
“Okay girls, we’re up,” Vance says and mimics the other team to the wall and over it.
They pause at the top and pull the ladders up collapsing them as they do so. Vance is hesitant about not leaving anyone outside to keep watch and provide for an escape path but orders are orders. He drops to the ground and sees the other team spread in a semi-circle in the darkness close to the bottom of the tower.
Several more howls, apparently coming from the large building in the center of the encampment, echo out into the night. The sounds send shivers down Vance’s back and tighten nerves already stretched taut. The compound is dark and nothing moves. I’m getting way too old for this shit, Vance thinks as the echoes die down bringing silence to the area once again. He’s said that a number of times before yet the call always comes and he always responds. He isn’t quite done with the adrenaline rush as yet.
If you would ask him, he would say he does it for the country and because of the good they do but deep inside, he knows it’s purely for the adrenaline. Yes, there is a big patriotic motivation and that’s precisely why he joined years ago but he is also honest as to why he continues mission after mission. If it was from a purely patriotic nature, he could teach and has been offered those positions quite a few times but he would miss the camaraderie and being out in the field. It’s the ultimate rush and if truth be known, the ultimate competition.
He quickly checks his satellite uplink and finds no signal. That’s not unusual in some areas so he is not overly worried. They still have their radio so communications will be available should they need them. That is the part that is most important. He’s been in a couple of situations when they needed radio communication and it has failed them. Not a pleasant situation when you really, really need support. Not support in thirty minutes or last week but right fucking now. The thought of those times makes him want to do a comm check but he knows it’s just his nerves. The ‘something isn’t right’ feeling is making me paranoid, he thinks crouch-walking up to the LT.