Welcome To The Wolfpack

by Toby Neighbors

  “Negative, you have no idea who’s up there,” Dean said. “Or if there’s any cover.”

  “We can’t just sit here and do nothing?” Chancy argued.

  “Get busy reloading the HA utility canons then,” Dean snarled. “That’s your job!”

  “Sir, is there any chance we can find another way out of here?” Chavez asked.

  “No,” Dean said. “Our target is in the building directly across from here.”

  Dean sent an aerial photo from the AAVs circling above like carrion birds drawn to a feast, to his Staff Sergeant of the tall, ornate building. There were soldiers visible as they moved into sniper positions on the rooftop, most had long rifles with large scopes.

  “That’s the Pope’s mansion?” Chavez asked. “Looks like snipers up top.”

  “Indeed. We need to go straight at them, get inside as quickly as possible and fight our way to their leader.”

  “That isn’t going to be easy,” Harper said. “They’re all ready to die for the Pope.”

  “We’ll oblige them if we have to. Our orders are clear. Take the compound by sunrise.”

  “We’re burning through this ammunition, Captain,” Tallgrass said. “We can’t keep this up much longer.”

  “Hey,” Ghost said, “take a look at this.”

  Dean selected the Sniper’s vid feed and saw what looked like carriage straight out of a fairy tale movie. It had huge, spoked wheels, gilded windows and doors, and ornate carvings throughout. It was the size of a small van, with a huge raised platform surrounded by glass at the very center.

  “What do you think it is?” Ghost said.

  “That’s the Popemobile,” Dean said.

  “The what?” Chavez asked.

  “It’s his official mode of transportation for parades and things.”

  “The keys are in it, Captain.”

  “Get it started,” Dean said. “I’ve got an idea.”

  The carriage was motorized and started easily, but steering it was a different matter. Dean ran over and tried to lower the door, but it was already shot to pieces and didn’t stop the incoming fire.

  “Save your ammunition,” Dean ordered. “I want a slow retreat.”

  “What the hell is that thing?” Chancy said.

  “That’s our ride out of here, Corporal.”

  “They’ll shoot it to pieces, Captain,” Staff Sergeant Chavez said.

  “It’s bullet proof,” Dean countered.

  “Against assault rifles?” Emily Harper asked skeptically.

  “I would think so,” Dean said.

  “We won’t all fit in there,” Cat said.

  “We don’t need to,” Dean replied. “The HA line and Corporal Chancy are staying here.”

  “What? Why?” Chancy argued.

  “The only way we can turn the tide in this fight is outflank our enemy,” Dean explained. “They have good cover and can hold us here until we run out of ammunition. Without our normal munitions, our only chance of completing our mission is to bring our weapons to bear from a different angle.”

  “So we go charging out in this thing,” Chavez said. “They blast it all to hell. Then what?”

  “Then we fight back, Staff Sergeant. We aren’t helpless.”

  “It’s not a great plan,” Cat said stoically, “but it could work.”

  “It has to work,” Dean said. “We’re out of options. Just remember that they won’t take prisoners. If we fail, we die.”

  “That’s a cheery thought,” Chavez said.

  “Then we better not fail,” Harper added.

  “My thoughts, exactly,” Dean said.

  Chapter 23

  The carriage came rumbling out of the storage building. Dean coordinated the movement of the HA Specialists, so that they split just as the popemobile rolled out of the big overhead door opening. For several seconds the Swiss Guard were shocked and did nothing. All the shooting stopped, and Dean, who was on the raised platform in the center of the strange vehicle, surrounded by glass that he desperately hoped was bulletproof, stared back at the dumbfounded soldiers.

  Then a shot was fired, the slug ricocheting off the glass which was bullet proof. Then the barrage started again, with the entire group of Swiss Guard firing at the vehicle, which was only made to travel in slow moving parades. Ghost pressed the throttle to the floor, but the popemobile topped out seven miles per hour, crossing the plaza at what seemed like a snail’s pace. The ostentatious decorations were quickly splintered and flew in all directions from the deadly hail of bullets, but none penetrated the passenger compartment or the cockpit. The wheels took damage, as did the engine, which was only partially protected by the vehicle’s armor, but it kept moving. They had gone nearly three hundred yards and were almost to the large marble stairs that led up to the Pope’s palace.

  “Captain, she’s almost gone,” Ghost said.

  “Turn,” Dean ordered. “We’ll use the vehicle for cover as we get out.”

  “There’s no cover from those snipers,” Cat said.

  “Tallgrass will pop smoke to keep you hidden as you disembark,” Dean told his platoon. “Staff Sergeant, take Harper, Cat, and Tallgrass. Go through the building and up to the roof. You’ve got to clear those snipers before we can send for the rest of the platoon.”

  “Yes, Captain,” Chavez said. “Tallgrass, get those smoke poppers ready.”

  The popemobile came to lurching stop. They were still being targeted, but the HA Specialists in the storage building had resumed firing, forcing the guardsmen to split their focus. Chavez opened the door and Tallgrass threw two smoke bombs out of the vehicle. Almost immediately a thick white smoke billowed up in the space between the carriage and the wide, marble steps. Ghost had to crawl through the cockpit to reach the others crammed into the passenger compartment.

  “On three,” Dean said. “Be careful in there.”

  “Always,” Staff Sergeant Chavez said.

  “Here,” Tallgrass said, pulling extra ammunition from her pack and handing it to Ghost.

  “Alright, we go in weapons hot, people,” Chavez said.

  “One, two, three,” Dean counted off.

  The group of infiltrators dashed from the carriage up the stairs. Only one shot was fired from the rooftop above and it was a blind shot. Dean watched as Chavez charged through the massive doors and into a huge foyer.

  “What about us?” Ghost said. “I hate waiting.”

  “Me too, that’s why we’re going out and under this vehicle.”

  “Hot damn, that sounds like a plan.”

  “You take cover behind the front wheels. I’ll move to the rear. Don’t waste your ammo.”

  “I never do, Captain,” Ghost said.

  They threw the door open again and jumped to the ground, rolling under the carriage and crawling toward wheels that would give them a semblance of cover. The big, wooden wheels had taken an awful beating, with many of the spokes shattered and large chunks blown off, but they still did a decent job of concealing the two soldiers as they began to fire at the Swiss Guards.

  Dean quickly took out the guards closest to his position, and Ghost did the same. The main enemy force was bunched together behind the low wall that was lined with huge statues. Some were turned toward the carriage, but most were focused on the HA Specialists in the storage building. They were just within range of Dean’s utility rifle and perfect targets. He flipped the setting on his rifle to automatic fire and pulled the trigger, spraying the tranquilizer flechettes in a steady stream that quickly empty his magazine.

  He popped the empty mag out and replaced it, but the remaining guards were pulling back away from the grand entrance of the Pope’s palace. Dean double checked his comlink then called to his HA Specialists.

  “D’Vris, form your line into Cheveron and advance toward the carriage,” Dean ordered. “On the double.”

  “Yes, sir!” the big frenchman replied.

  Dean turned his attention to the vid feed from Chavez’s ba
ttle helmet. The wily Staff Sergeant had avoided the lavish, curving staircase and had instead found what appeared to be a servant’s stairwell. It was a narrow metal staircase which seemed completely abandoned. Dean could see a heavy looking security door at the top of the landing that Chavez was approaching.

  “Those snipers on the roof will have an advantageous angle on the HA line soon,” Ghost warned, still targeting the stragglers left from the Swiss Guard’s retreat.

  “I know,” Dean said.

  “And those guardsmen are probably flanking us as we speak.”

  “Which is why we aren’t sticking around,” Dean said. “Just give Chavez another minute.”

  They moved back to the palace side of the vehicle but didn’t roll out from under the cover it provided them from the snipers. Dean watched on his view screen as his Staff Sergeant, Fast Attack Specialists, and Demolitions expert stormed onto the roof. It was was an ornate building architecturally, but at the center of the roof was a large, flat platform, a landing pad for an atmospheric hovercraft of some sort. As soon as Dean saw the landing pad fear set in that the Pope was already gone, but he hadn’t seen any aircraft on the vid feeds from the AAVs. They might not find the leader of Rome Three’s theocracy in his lavish palace, he thought to himself, but they would still hold the most pivotal city and perhaps that would give the Brass the leverage they needed to force the Church leaders to the negotiation table.

  From the platform were several catwalks that angled around the arched roof line, leading to the sniper nests. Chavez divided his group, who moved quickly out and fired several shots at each sniper, neutralizing the last remaining threat, just as the HA Specialists and Corporal Chancy came within range. Dean and Ghost rolled out from under the popemobile and waited for the rest of the platoon.

  “We’re clear up here,” Chavez said, sounding a little breathless.

  “Excellent work, Staff Sergeant. Start searching the palace from the top, we’ll begin down here.”

  “Yes sir,” Chavez said, his voice tight, his words clipped.

  “You alright, Chavez?” Dean asked.

  “Never better, Jefe.”

  “Alright, meet you soon.”

  Dean turned to the Heavy Armor Specialists, who were ill suited for searching through a building. The weight of their armor, even with the load assistance built into the leggings and supported by the heavy boot mechanisms, made them slow, and the sheer size of the shields made moving through normal spaces impractical.

  “Adkins,” Dean said. “You’re here with the Triplets. No one goes in or out, understood.”

  “Yes Captain.”

  Dean turned to Chancy, “Did anyone enter the storage room through the hole we blasted?”

  “No,” the sniveling Corporal said.

  Bear D’Vris’ hand slammed down hard on Chancy’s shoulder. It wasn’t a violent blow, there was no assault in the action, but the strength and intention were clear to everyone.

  “Address your commanding officer with respect, Corporal,” D’Vois said.

  “No sir,” he said in a sulky tone.

  “Alright, that must mean the Pope’s compound is off limits to the public,” Dean said.

  “Even the police?” Pimrey asked.

  “On earth, the Vatican is a sovereign state and no one is allowed into the Pope’s private spaces for any reason without a specific invitation,” Dean explained. “But the Swiss Guard will do everything in their power to protect the Pope, which probably means they’re planning an action on this palace. D’Vris, you and Pimrey find the back door and make sure no one gets in or out. I want his building secure, is that clear?”

  “Yes, Captain,” the two big men said in unison.

  “Alright, Ghost, Chancy, you’re with me. We need to find the Pope.”

  “You think he still hanging around here?” Ghost asked.

  “It isn’t very likely, but that’s our mission,” Dean said.

  “There’s probably a bunker under this building,” Chancy said.

  “Or an escape tunnel that leads out of the city,” Dean agreed. “It’s also possible that the Pope was evacuated by air as soon as we began our attack. What that doesn’t mean is that we’re safe. Let’s move quickly, but cautiously.”

  They all checked their weapons and Dean’s TCU pinged him again. It was not a chime he was familiar with and when he searched for the source he discovered a small red light down in the lower right hand corner of his face shield display. He had to cut his eyes down hard just to see it, but as soon as he focused on the warning light a report popped up on his display in ominous red letters.

  PLATOON MEMBER, STAFF SERGEANT CHAVEZ, JOAQUIN,

  ELEVATED HEART RATE 163 BPM

  BLOOD PRESSURE 108/56

  PULSE OXYGEN 72%

  DIAGNOSIS: INTERNAL INJURY LIKELY, 68%

  Dean and his companions were already moving through the huge, formal reception room. An immense crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling that was at least thirty feet high. There were paintings, and statuary arranged throughout the room. The furnishing looked antique, and the marble floors were covered with exotic rugs. Along the walls were ten foot doors, leading to other rooms, and at the center of the room was a large, curving staircase with a thick red carpeting fringed in gold.

  Dean ignored it all, bringing up Chavez’s vid feed in the corner of his vision.

  “Staff Sergeant, report,” Dean ordered on a private channel.

  “This place is a museum, Captain,” Chavez said. “But no people.”

  “No tell me what is wrong with you,” Dean said, his concern for Chavez making him sound angry.

  “I’m fine, Captain.

  “The hell you are. My TCU is pinging me. It thinks you’ve got internal injuries.”

  “I took a bullet back on the street. The armor stopped it though.”

  “But something is wrong,” Dean said. “Your vitals are down across the board.”

  “It’s nothing,” Chavez said. “Cracked rib, maybe, I just need to catch my breath is all.”

  “Staff Sergeant,” Dean said, switching back to the platoon frequency, “stand down. Corporal Valosky, you stay with him.”

  “Captain,” Ghost said. “I’ve got a elevator here.”

  “He doesn’t need to ride the elevator,” Chancy said in a haughty tone. “The Pope isn’t hiding in there.”

  “It’s got a down arrow sir,” Ghost said, ignoring Chancy completely.

  “Tallgrass, Harper, get down here,” Dean ordered. “Ghost find me a stairway down to the lower levels of this place.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Dean hit the up button on the elevator.

  “Where are you going?” Chancy asked.

  “I’m looking for the Pope, you’re going up to relieve Corporal Valosky. You make sure Chavez doesn’t move. Get him anything he needs, and don’t bother him with your whining.”

  “I should stay here,” Chancy argued, as the elevator door swished open. “You need me. I’m the best-“

  Dean didn’t wait for Chancy to finish. He shoved him into the elevator and stepped back.

  “I’m going to have your bars for that, Captain,” Chancy spat the words as the elevator doors started to close. “Your career is over!”

  Dean ignored him and checked the vital signs of the other members of the platoon. Chavez’s injury had taken him by surprise and he didn’t like surprises. Everyone else was in the green, their vitals all within the normal range. Still, Dean felt like a failure for not noticing Chavez’s injury. His mind flashed back to seeing the Staff Sergeant stumbled as he and Tallgrass sprinted back from the compound wall after setting their explosive charges. He should have realized that Chavez didn’t just miss a step. He needed to do a better job of taking care of his platoon.

  The elevator dinging and signaled that it was heading back down. Behind Dean he heard footsteps on the curved staircase. He wasn’t sure which way to turn that wouldn’t leave him exposed. He tried backing u
p, hoping to bring both the stairs and the elevator into his line of sight. Luckily, the movement on the stairs was from Tallgrass and Harper. When the elevator opened it was Cat who stepped out. As soon as she did Ghost returned.

  “No stairways going down, Captain,” he reported.

  “When you went up the roof, did the maintenance stairs go down?” Dean asked Harper.

  “No, sir,” she said.

  “Looks like the elevator is the only way down. Let’s go.”

  They stepped into the small space, and Dean saw that there was only one floor below them. He hit the button and let the doors close. He had been the last person to step into the elevator, and was directly in front of the doors when they opened. The shotgun blast him squarely in the chest and knocked him backward, making his vision blur. Everyone else in the elevator started shooting, but it was all Dean could do just to suck in another breath.

  Chapter 24

  The shooting ended abruptly. Two more blasts from the shotgun had fired over Dean and into the back wall of the elevator, shorting out the lights and tearing grapefruit sized holes in the golden paneling. Dean thought his vision was dimming, but when Harper and Tallgrass bent over him he saw them both clearly. He was still struggling to catch his breath and his chest hurt like hell, but he wasn’t dying.

  “Captain!” Sergeant Harper said. “Are you okay?”

  “He was just shot,” Tallgrass said. “He isn’t okay.”

  “I’m,” Dean managed to say, “okay… help me… up.”

  They grabbed his arms and hoisted him up onto his shaky legs. He looked down and saw the shredded kevlar where the shotgun blast had hit him. Luckily, he could also see the hardened battle armor plate that had kept the pellets from tearing through his flesh.

  “There’s more of ‘em up ahead,” Ghost said.

  “Let’s go,” Dean said, his strength returning, although there was still a ringing in his ears and he was breathing hard.

  “What’s going on?” Chavez said, and Dean heard a slight wheeze when the Staff Sergeant spoke.