“Whoever is humming, knock it off,” Morgan said over the team's headsets.
“Oh, shit, sorry.” Amatuzo hadn't realized he’d been humming along to Heartbreak Hotel. “Shit.”
“That music has to go,” Cross quietly said.
“At least it’s covering any noise we make,” Doc Kegy added.
“Yeah,”—Cross nodded as she pushed Camacho along ahead of her—“but elevator music?"
"That’s muzak, Cross,” the medic chuckled. “It’s the soundtrack for serial killers and dentists.”
“Perfect.” She held Camacho by the right forearm. “You throw one helluva a party, Bob. Too bad we couldn’t have worked out something similar for you back in the States.”
“If you make it to the U.S." Camacho glared at her over his shoulder.
“We don’t make it, you don’t make it.” Cross smiled as she nodded. “Eyes forward, Bob.”
“Puta,” Camacho said under his breath. Cross gently twisted his right index finger and Camacho gave out a high pitched squeal.
“What the hell is that?” Morgan asked as he glanced back at the team behind him.
“Cross is just giving Bob the Butcher a lesson on manners.” Hale tapped Cross on the shoulder. “It’s all good, Sarge.”
One of the buildings near the rear of the team erupted in a shower of wood and bricks. The soldiers were peppered with slivers of glass and mortar. The explosion tossed Amatuzo and Duley, who had been the closest, to the ground. The rest of the team dove for cover as another explosion destroyed one of Bob the Butcher’s statues, sending shards of marble flying at the startled Americans.
“Incoming!” Snake shouted a little too late as he shoved Redwood to the ground. Another grenade exploded in the middle of the team.
“Shit!” Vanelli screamed. “I’m hit!”
“Stay down!” Morgan shouted, ears ringing. “Where is he?”
SHOOT AT THE GRINGOS!
CAMACHO’S COMPOUND
“American pigs!” Salazar shouted as he glanced around the side of one of the guest cottages. The grenade launcher hot in his hands.
“Give me Bob and I’ll let you live!” The new drug lord smirked. None of the gringos were going to leave the compound. Salazar waved for the pastry chef to move up next to him. Ramos shivered as he stepped in close to his new boss man.
“When I say go, you run over toward the tool shop and shoot at the gringos,” Salazar said, resting a big hand on his shoulder.
“But… they will shoot me.”
“No.” Salazar smiled. “I will cover you. It will be okay. No?” He clapped the smaller man on the back.
“Okay.” Ramos nodded timidly and raised the rifle up to his waist.
“Everyone okay?” Morgan asked in his headset. He crouched behind the ruined fountain that had once been an over-exaggerated statue of Bob wrestling a bull.
Hale, Cross, Doc Kegy, and Camacho were also hunched down behind the cover of the destroyed fountain. Snake and Redwood had found cover in a drainage ditch while Duley, Vanelli, and Amatuzo hugged the ground near the remains of the first building Salazar had blown up. A small fire burned in what was left of the structure.
“Bravo Six and Seven are okay,” Snake said into his headset. “We're in a ditch about ten yards from you guys.”
“Bravo Five and Ten are okay,” Duley said as he lay prone on the ground next to Amatuzo trying to get a bead on the mad grenadier in his rifle sights. “Bravo Nine is down.”
“I’m okay,” Vanelli grumbled. “Got some splinters in my ass but I’m alive. Tell the doc to sit tight.”
“Bob,” Cross whispered as she pointed up at the broken bodybuilder image of him in marble, grabbing a huge bull by its sharp horns. “Did you really wrestle a bull?”
“Put—” Bob started to growl an insult when he felt a tiny bit of pressure on his index finger. “Please,” he said quietly.
Cross relaxed her grip. “Now you’re learning.”
“You have a fix?” Morgan asked Hale as he scanned the buildings in front of them for their shooter.
“Naw, I can’t see dick.” Hale crawled a little closer to the edge of the fountain so he could get a better look at their attacker.
“I thought you Air Force guys were experts at seeing dick. Regular bunch of cock gazers.” The senior sergeant chuckled.
“Yeah.” He peered through the sites on his rifle and could just barely make out the outline of a figure near the edge of one of the bigger buildings. “That’s why I joined.” He squeezed the trigger.
“Fuck!” Salazar jumped back against the building as a round impacted an inch from his head. Ramos let out a scream and dove to the ground, tangling himself up in Salazar's legs. The cartel boss tripped over the pastry chef and fell on top of him as more rounds crashed above them. Salazar rolled off of the smaller man and landed prone on the ground. He crawled over to where he’d just been standing and fired off the remaining three grenades in the direction of the Americans. As the grenades exploded, Salazar popped open the launcher's cylinder and dumped out the empty casings. Still lying on his back, he reached into his suit coat and began shoving grenades back into the empty cylinder.
“What do we do?” Ramos sputtered, still on his hands and knees.
“Go!” He shoved the pastry chef. “Go! I have you covered!”
“I can’t!”
“Yes, you can.” Salazar drew his .45 out of his waist holster and shoved it in Ramos’s face. “You go or I will blow your fucking face off!”
“Salazar?” The chef turned pale.
“Go, I said I will cover you.” Salazar rolled upright and got to his feet using the building for protection. He replaced the pistol in his holster then pulled Ramos to his feet. “I will not tell you again.” He raised the grenade launcher into firing position. “Go!”
“Shit!” Hale knew he’d just missed the target. He fired again but was sure if those rounds hit the target either. “That building at our two o’clock. Bastard's there!”
“Bravo Six and Seven, you got it?” Morgan asked.
“Roger,” Redwood said, zoning in on the building.
“Light ‘em up!”
Before any of them could return fire, a grenade exploded a few yards from the fountain. Dirt and cobblestone chips rained down on the soldiers. Another grenade exploded behind Redwood and Snake, driving both soldiers into the ditch filled with waste water. A third grenade detonated in the air sending shrapnel down on Amatuzo, Duley, and Vanelli.
Ears ringing and stunned, the soldiers struggled to return fire on their attacker. Wiping debris from his eyes, Hale tried to focus on the spot where he had found the target before. In his blurred vision he saw a figure emerge from behind the building and make a beeline for another; all the while firing in their direction. The rounds impacted wildly. None were aimed but they were just as deadly. Hale fixed the assailant in his sites and fired.
His first round struck the man in the chest, causing him to stagger. Rounds from some of the other team members also smashed into the man, tossing him around like a puppet. A few more wild shots flew from the dead man’s rifle as he flopped to the ground.
“Got him,” Snake said.
“Fuck,” Amatuzo said, trying to pull off his pack. He’d been hit in the upper shoulders by shrapnel from the grenade that had exploded in mid-air.
“Hold on,” Duley said as he rolled over onto his side and tried to help the other soldier remove his backpack. Smoke streamed from where the red-hot shrapnel had penetrated his gear and vest. Amatuzo screamed as Duley frantically tried to remove his tac vest. Both men were unaware of the dead cartel men that shuffled their way, and another exploding grenade kept the rest of the team from noticing the group of undead that were about to fall upon the two soldiers.
“Aw, shit!” Amatuzo cursed in pain as he tried to wriggle out of his gear. “Doc!”
“Sit tight!” Doc Kegy shouted in his headset as another grenade detonated close to the fountain. �
��I’ll be there!”
Kegy tapped Morgan on the shoulder and crouched down as low as humanly possible, making a break for where Amatuzo and Duley struggled with his pack.
“Gotcha, bro!” Duley said as he finally pulled off the pack and tossed it to the ground. Two sets of grey, cold hands grabbed Duley by the shoulders and dragged him to the ground. Caught totally by surprise, the soldier glanced up to see the dead faces of three men hungrily staring down at him. Choking on the horrible smell of death, Duley wildly twisted around on his back trying to break free from the grip of the freaks that had a hold of him. Yellowed, broken teeth drooling black saliva snapped hungrily at his face and neck. Duley swung a gloved hand at one of the men, striking him in the face. The man just chomped down on his glove and tried to bite through.
“You nasty motherfucker!” Duley screamed as he felt the pressure of the man’s jaw close down on his hand. Screaming, he used his free hand to bat at the other two men. The soldier heard a scream come through his headset and he was pretty sure it wasn’t his own. Duley gave his trapped hand a hard jerk and pulled it free from the man’s jaws. His hand felt like it was chewed up, but he knew the teeth hadn’t been able to puncture the Kevlar. A black juice covered the glove as he used his free hand to draw his Beretta. Duley had already chambered a round and popped the safety off at the beginning of the mission. He jammed the barrel into the hand biters chest and fired off two rounds. The man’s upper body shuddered and he staggered back a few feet. Duley fired at another of his attackers, hitting him in the heart and causing the man to release his grip on him.
“AHHHHH!” Someone screamed through the headset and there was another explosion followed by the automatic rifle fire of the team.
Duley jerked himself free of the last man and rolled himself up into a sitting position. He fired at the third man, striking him in the throat. The man gurgled, wavered a second, and then lunged for the soldier. Duley raised the Beretta up and fired. The round smashed into the man’s forehead, sending him down to the ground for good. Duley jumped to a kneeling position and spun to face the two men who, unbelievably, still stood.
Letting out a weird, haunting moan, both of the fatally wounded men lunged for Duley. The soldier, a quick study of what works, fired two rounds into their heads. Both men collapsed in lifeless heaps.
“Damn.” Duley wiped some sweat and black blood off his face with the side of his gun hand. He quickly turned over in Amatuzo’s direction and saw his partner was on his back trying to fight off four of the crazed cartel men. “Tuz!”
Doc Kegy scurried over in the direction of where Duley and Amatuzo had been. More grenades were being fired at the team as they huddled behind the fountain and the drainage ditch. The medic made a sprint over to where Vanelli lay prone on the ground firing at the mad grenade launcher. Kegy slid in besides him and tapped Vanelli on the shoulder.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, Doc.” Vanelli slapped another magazine into his rifle. “Just a little wood chips in the ass. Nothing unusual. Better check Amatuzo. I heard him screaming pretty badly.”
“You sure?”
“I’m good. I’ve been shot, hit in the face with a bottle, and ran over by a big fucking tiger.” Vanelli smirked. “I’m all right.”
“Somebody loves ya.” Doc Kegy slapped him on the ass as he got to his knees to move over to Amatuzo’s position.
“Fuck, Doc!” Vanelli winced.
“Ah shit. Sorry,” Kegy said, running over to where the other two soldiers had last been seen.
As another grenade exploded in the distance, the medic sprinted the last ten yards and stopped in his tracks. A few men were on top of Amatuzo, biting and tearing at him as the soldier tried in vain to fight them off. As the medic brought his rifle up to point, he noticed Amatuzo’s headset laying a few feet away from him.
“Bravo One, we have a problem.” He fired a round at one of the men on top of Amatuzo. The bullet struck the man in the right side and exited out of his back. The round blew a fist-sized hole in the man’s upper back splashing black blood and flesh on the other three attackers. The crazed man continued grabbing for Amatuzo’s throat, the wound having had no impact on him. Kegy fired again, figuring the man was drugged up, hitting him in the right shoulder. The man’s arm went slack from the would-be fatal wound but he just used his undamaged left arm to tear at the soldier on the ground. Kegy squeezed the trigger, aiming for the druggies head. In the dim light of the compound, he just barely missed.
“Damn, Doc!” Duley jumped to the side as the round crashed into the cobblestones near his feet. “I’m right here!”
“Sorry.” Kegy readjusted his aim. Both men had stepped out in the open, not concerned about the cartel thug wielding the grenade launcher. The soldiers' only goal was to try and save Amatuzo, who still lay on his back flailing at the four frenzied crazies.
“Headshots, Doc!” Duley shouted as he aimed his Beretta at the one Kegy had hit. The front of the man’s head exploded and he fell to the side. One of the crazies was down at Amatuzo’s left leg, his face buried deep in his thigh.
Duley quickly stepped over to where his teammate was sprawled and pulled the man off him. The soldier saw the thug’s lips and teeth were red with Amatuzo’s blood. He angrily jerked the man back to the ground and shot him in the head. Duley heard the crack of a nearby rifle shot and another one of the cannibals fell and didn’t get back up. The remaining crazie was chewing on Amatuzo’s left wrist while the soldier weakly pounded him in the face with his right fist. Kegy swiftly stepped over the badly wounded soldier and smashed his attackers head in with the butt of his rifle. The cannibal let out a moan then dropped to the side unmoving.
“Tuz!” Doc Kegy dropped to a knee and quickly started to assess his wounds. “It’s gonna be okay, man.”
“They… they… ate… the… Doc!” Amatuzo mumbled as he bled from the mouth. One of the crazies had bit off part of his lower lip. He grabbed Key's left hand as the medic tried to calm him and stop the bleeding from the ragged bite on his throat. “Doc… he fu… fu… it… e…”
“It’s okay, buddy. I got you,” Kegy said, pulling a compression bandage out of his pack. Duley glanced around the fire lit area to see if there were any more of the cannibals lurking about. Seeing it was clear for now, he knelt down next to Doc Kegy.
“What can I do?”
“Just talk to him,” Kegy said, giving Duley Amatuzo’s hand to hold. “I got this.”
“Doc, what the hell is going on?” Morgan asked in his headset.
“Amatuzo is down. I’m fixing him up.”
“Need help?” the sergeant asked as another grenade exploded in the background. Vanelli had made a run for their position and slid in next to Duley and the medic.
“Naw, we're good. Just get that grenade-happy, dirt bag.” Doc Kegy slapped Vanelli on the arm. “Watch our three o’clock. I don’t know if there’s any more of these fuck sticks around.”
“Got it.” Vanelli crawled around Duley and lay prone, aiming his rifle in the direction the cannibals had come from.
“I.… liss,” Amatuzo mumbled and glanced up at Duley. He was trying to say ‘my lips’. “Dee-Jay, I… liss… sill… ere?” The soldier groaned as Doc Kegy shot him up with morphine.
“Your lips are fine, Tuz.” Duley smiled as he held onto the wounded soldier's hands. He could see the exposed jaw and teeth from where the cannibals had bitten him. “You look good.” Duley swallowed trying not to lose it in front of his teammate. “We get back to base and the first beer is on me.”
“I… ids… I…ids…” Amatuzo was trying to say something about his kids. The morphine was starting to kick in and a lot of the pain from the bites and shrapnel wounds started to ease up. “ell… I… ids…,” Amatuzo slurred, his eyes glassy.
“You’re doing fine, Tuz,” Doc Kegy said as he quickly wrapped his leg wound. “Duley, I’m going to tape up his jaw then we can move him.”
“Might be good to stay her
e a minute, Doc,” Vanelli said, still watching the area that led out towards the hacienda. “Grenade boy is shooting at us right now.”
“Good point.” Kegy grabbed up a bandage and some tape. “I’m going to bandage up your face. It’s just a small wound but I don’t want it to get infected,” the medic lied.
“Kay,” Amatuzo said dreamily.
“What the fuck were they?” Duley whispered to the Doc as he covered up the mess of Amatuzo’s lower jaw. “Weren't no body armor this time either.”
“They had to be hopped up on angel dust or something,” Kegy said as he quickly bandaged up the wounded soldier.
“That crazy, Doc. They fucking tried to eat us.”
“Well,” Vanelli reached over and grabbed one of the dead man's stiff hands. “These fuckers are cold as ice. They look weird and smell like shit. Something ain’t right, Doc.”
“Santeria, man.” Duley glanced over at the bodies. “Mexican voodoo or some shit.”
“Knock it off, Duley, they’re just druggies. We are in a drug cartel stronghold.” Kegy finished with treating and securing Amatuzo’s bite wounds. He patted the wounded man on the chest. “You going to be fine, Tuz. Looks like the shrapnel just lodged in your vest and gave you a minor burn. I gotcha’, brother.”
“…anks…,” Amatuzo mumbled as he drifted off inside the painkiller, the deadly virus swirling through his veins.
WHAT’S WITH THE BARBIE’S?
EN ROUTE TO PASSADO, MEXICO
“I need to call my brother,” Blanca said from the backseat of the Range Rover. The expensive SUV sped along the gravel road towards the outskirts of Passado. Nero looked over at the teenage girl and tried to give her a reassuring smile.
“Here.” He handed her his cell phone.
Operation Zulu: Dos Page 32