by Ron Smoak
He wondered to himself about the capabilities of the intruders. Would they come back the same way? That would be foolish in his mind. But that was also the only reasonable way into the Fortress area due to the close proximity of the native trails. His hunch was the intruders knew only those trails and that entrance to the Fortress. For that reason they would try to gain entrance there again. But the big question was when. Several days had elapsed with no reports of the intruders. That worried him. They were long overdue in his mind. He would have struck earlier. Where were they?
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Sunday, July 17, 2011
The Jungle, Brazil; 3:35 p.m.
Hugo heard the man first. The Nazi made little noise but it was enough for Hugo to hear. Now he was in Hugo’s sights. The man never saw Hugo step out of the underbrush.
Hugo’s knife silently sliced through the trachea and jugular vein until it ended its work near the earlobe of the Nazi. The man’s eyes bulged as he felt an intense stinging sensation, then a flow of warm liquid down his chest. Suddenly it became very hard to breathe. The Nazi tried to look back at his attacker but Hugo’s hold was strong. His hand clasped over the Nazi’s mouth and pulled back his head, further opening the crimson chasm in his neck. Blood was pouring from the gaping wound. A strange lightheaded feeling came over the Nazi. He knew his life was coming to an end but there was no real pain. The Nazi’s eyes looked toward the heavens as darkness closed his view, first around the edges of his field of vision, then closing from all sides like the iris of a camera. Once darkness was complete, there was one less person on this planet earth.
Hugo eased him to the ground and wiped his knife on the man’s trousers. He grabbed the Nazi by the epaulets on his fatigues and pulled his body under two huge ferns. The man’s gun was tossed under an outgrowth of underbrush behind the ferns. Hugo returned to the killing area and carefully spread leaves over the pool of blood. He wanted to ensure that anyone coming this way would not find the body or see the blood unless they looked really hard. Hugo whispered the all clear to Dane, who silently appeared beside Hugo. It looked like the small animals and the bugs of the jungle were in for a nice meal.
Dane and Hugo made good time prior to this situation even though Hugo played it safe on point. The two moved through the jungle like leopards. Fast but extremely dangerous.
Within minutes Hugo heard the movement of a second man. He froze like a Louisiana birddog. Dane froze as well.
Then Dane heard it. There was a slight rustling in the jungle. Not a natural sound but a distinct staccato that gave away the Nazi walking through the jungle. Without hesitation Hugo quickly flanked the man and was on him in an instant. There was no noise, hardly even a sound. But the man was dead none the less.
Hugo made a name for himself in the Middle East as a tracker and a cold-blooded killer. That was his alter ego. Once he switched into his military mode, Hugo was extremely dangerous. Some in his SEAL unit likened him to a cobra, silent and deadly. He could stalk anyone and still stay concealed. When the time came to take out his prey, he struck with incredible precision and fury. There was no wounded left when Hugo attacked, just bodies or nothing if the need be. He was the kind of weapon one needed in this jungle pursuit.
Dane and Hugo came across their first patrol sentry about ten kilometers from the Fortress. Dane was right. The Nazis expected them and expanded their defenses in order to meet the two as far from the Fortress as possible.
Since they split from the others, Dane and Hugo’s path tracked due north. Dane plotted the northern approach to the Fortress with their target being the helicopter port where they first witnessed the black helicopter taking off nearly a week ago. The Nazis had no clue he and Hugo knew of the heliport entrance to the Fortress. Dane hoped the Nazis were counting on a return visit to the hidden hatch Dane and Hugo used earlier. Ben and his team were headed to that hatch to create a diversion.
Hugo turned to Dane and flashed a nasty grin. “That’s two down…”
Dane returned the grin with a thumbs-up. Hugo turned back north and vanished into the jungle. Dane followed keeping a reasonable distance behind. Less than three klicks later, Dane smelled smoke. He froze and called Hugo on his comm unit.
“Smoke, off to the left,” he whispered into the tiny microphone. Before he could finish the call, Hugo was already on it. He spotted a small group of men under a tree huddled in a makeshift topless bunker dug into the ground just in front and under some large ferns. They were hidden very well, almost too well. If they had not smelled the cigarette smoke, neither Dane nor Hugo may have seen these guys until they were on top of them. Hugo moved closer from the right and Dane moved in from the left. There were three Nazis dressed in black fatigues. Two were down in the bunker while one was watching for movement as he knelt behind a screen of palm fronds to the right of the bunker.
The Nazis didn’t know what hit them. Hugo came from the right and Dane from the left. They were on the men in seconds, firing their silenced Heckler and Koch MP-5 submachine guns in single-shot mode. Hugo’s first shot hit the kneeling man in the temple. His body crumpled without a sound. Before the other two could react, Dane took both of them out with head shots as well. The wounds on the two in the bunker were both spurting what seemed like gallons of blood onto the dirt floor of the bunker. The blood puddled around their feet, already about one inch deep. In this case a “pool of blood” was an appropriate description.
“Good work, Boss,” Hugo whispered. “Nice call on the smoke.”
Dane smiled and pointed in the direction of the Fortress.
“Let’s move.”
As fast as they came, they were gone.
CHAPTER FIFTY
Sunday, July 17, 2011
The Jungle, Brazil; 3:45 p.m.
Ben sent Tecal and one of his men in the lead. The two native men knew this jungle very well and it showed. They cruised through the jungle like gazelles, sliding through thickets and avoiding larger trails they knew were covered by the Nazis. They were right.
About ten kilometers out they encountered their first patrol. Three men dressed in the black fatigues moved quietly down one of the major trails. Tecal watched the men go past and radioed their location. Ben’s group moved slightly south, concentrating on their northern flank. Within twenty minutes they also saw the patrol. They sat quietly as they passed. Once gone, Ben and his group continued to move toward the hatch.
After several hours Tecal and his man stopped in the general area of the hatch for about ten minutes. The two found a semi-underground bunker. It was empty but had been occupied recently. Tecal used the comm unit to inform Ben of their discovery. The bunker was a simple eight foot wide hole about four feet deep. Its sloping bottom rose until it was at ground level about twelve feet behind the front of the bunker. The bunker’s face consisted of several large logs placed so they formed a long slit opening to the front. Much of the earth dug from the pit was piled around the front of the logs. Small ferns and other vegetation were planted at the front concealing the opening completely. Viewed face on, the entire structure looked like a small rise in the terrain. Tecal carefully looked inside, making certain he did not leave tracks around the perimeter. Tecal and his man tied large leaves to the bottoms of their feet concealing their prints. This was a jungle trick his father taught him years ago.
Tecal noticed there was a small stove in the bunker. He wrapped a fresh leaf around a long stick and stuck the leaf down on top of the stove. The leaf slowly began to change color indicating the stove was still hot. Tecal concluded roaming patrols must have recently left. Tecal motioned to his cohort and they silently crept away, leaving no trace. Moving about twenty-five yards from the bunker, they found themselves in an outgrowth of large ferns. They crawled under the fronds and waited silently. They hid so well they seemed to vanish. Tecal informed Ben of their findings and new position and sat waiting.
Ben acknowledged Tecal’s location and began moving in their general direction, keeping clea
r of the main trail. Ben figured this was the trail Dane and Hugo found. Within thirty minutes Ben slowly moved his group into position about ten yards off the trail and about twenty yards southwest of Tecal. They too waited silently.
“Now it’s a waiting game until they return or we hear from Dane and Hugo,” said Ben, keeping his eyes glued on the path.
“So far so good,” smiled Tim, who was beginning to feel the pressure of the hunt. “My hands are sweating,” he said, rubbing them together and against his pants.
Ben glanced at Tim. “We’ll be fine if we follow the plan. Dane and Hugo put a lot of work into this. We have to get Dana and Randall out of there as soon as we can.”
Tim nodded in agreement. “I keep thinking about what Dana and Randall could be going through in the hands of these guys. It can’t be good.”
“God, I hope they are okay,” added Ben, checking his watch.
It didn’t take long for the patrol to return.
“Someone’s coming down the pathway,” Tim whispered in his comm unit while lying under the bush with a relatively good view of the trail. Ben acknowledged. As Tim watched, he saw one of the Nazis in black moving quietly down the side of the trail closest to him. The man was listening and searching for any movement around him. His eyes scoured the ground for tracks.
The Nazi was heavily armed. Tim noticed the men were carrying the new style Heckler-Koch G36C Commando assault rifles. He had read about them in several Soldier of Fortune magazine articles and other articles in other military magazines but had never seen one. He was shocked that the weapon was in their hands, especially in compact configuration. The HK G36C fired a 5.56x45mm round at a maximum rate of fire of 750 rounds per minute. It is a sweet weapon. These guys were obviously well financed to have such leading edge armament.
Tim watched silently as the man moved past, followed within minutes by two other men. They too were patrolling intently, watching for movement and listening for intruders.
Within ten minutes Ben got a whispered comm message from Tecal. The three men were back in their bunker.
“Men back,” whispered Tecal. “They get ready to eat.”
“Ten-four, Tecal,” acknowledged Ben. “We are moving into position opposite you.”
“Yes.” Tecal’s whispered response was concise, just like Dane taught him.
Ben motioned to Tim and the other native. They all moved about twenty feet away from the main path knowing the trail was under strict surveillance. Slowly and quietly they slithered through the bush led by Tecal’s man. They had to be absolutely quiet as they moved into position to spring their trap.
Ben and Tim decided to ambush the three Nazis while they were in their bunker. It was the last place the Nazis would expect anyone to attack them. Ben shifted into position on one side of the bunker and Tecal did the same on the opposite side. Once situated, the two groups would attack on each side of the exposed rear of the bunker. If precisely executed, the Nazis had no chance once caught in the crossfire.
It took about ten more minutes to get everything ready.
“Countdown execute from five,” whispered Ben across the comm link. Tecal acknowledged.
“Four.” The two groups glided quietly within five yards of the bunker. All safeties were off. Nerves were on edge. This was what they came for. Both groups could hear the men talking even though they were whispering.
“Three. Two. Execute!” Instantly the six men leapt up and stormed the bunker. Each man fired multiple shots. The Nazis had no chance at all. Before they could react all were riddled with bullets from the silenced weapons. It was over in less than five seconds.
After the intensity of the kill, the group stood motionless, silent. Their adrenalin levels were over the top. What the hell happened? Each seemed momentarily stunned at killing a human being. Then calm fell over them as they realized it was necessary. These guys would have killed them all without hesitation. Tim checked his weapon to get his mind off the kill. As he removed the clip and cleared the chamber, he looked around at each of his group. He had not felt this way since his days in Iraq. He felt powerful yet almost ashamed. He loaded another fresh clip, threw back the bolt and switched the safety on. He slid the empty clip into his pouch. He was ready again.
“Everyone all right?” asked Ben. Everyone nodded yes.
“Good job all,” added Tim. “Now let’s pick up all of this brass.” He was referring to the spent cartridge casings ejected from their weapons when they fired. They planned to hide the bodies but Tim didn’t want the tell-tale brass lying around. Tecal’s men scooped up all of the casings and buried them under a bush about ten feet away.
Ben shouldered his weapon and knelt beside the bunker, peering in. His eyes moved about the bunker and came to rest on a small radio lying on a narrow ledge. The tiny green light on the top of the radio denoted that it was turned on. Tecal and his men pulled the dead men out of the bunker while Tim prepared a hiding place beyond the area.
“Let’s pull ‘em over here,” said Tim quietly, using a large branch to pull back groundcover. As Tecal and his men struggled to hide the bodies, Ben was in the bunker looking for information they might use. There was a small amount of freeze-dried food, water, ammo but that was all. He finally found a cylindrical case buried slightly under the first log inside the bunker. He quickly dug it out. Ben uncapped the case and pulled out several maps. He unrolled one of them to find a map of the area with strange markings and symbols. He brought the maps out and sat on the side of the bunker.
“Tim, take a look at these. They seem to be maps of the area but I can’t make out these odd markings.” Tim joined Ben and took a look. One map seemed to denote several other defensive bunkers dispersed in a semi-circle east to west. There was a small check beside one of the markers.
“It looks like these are other bunkers,” explained Tim, pointing to several marks. “This must be this one,” his finger noting the checked mark.
“Damn, if that’s it, there are at least a dozen more bunkers like this east and west of here,” added Ben. “I wish we could get this to Dane and Hugo before they run into these.”
“Give them a call,” said Tim. “We can at least give them a heads-up as to what we find even if we can’t show them.”
“I guess that’s the best we can do,” replied Ben, taking the map in his hand. He gave Dane a call on the comm link.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Fortress Alpha; 6:45 p.m.
Jorgen Maas felt good about the security measures that had been taken. He and Grübner were getting hourly reports that said there were no strange occurrences noted. This was what they wanted to hear. The two men walked together down one of the corridors checking their protection measures within the Fortress.
“Several days have passed with no adverse reports from our outposts or patrols,” said Maas without emotion as they walked.
“Yes, sir,” replied Grübner. “It is very quiet out there. I don’t think we’ll see those American intruders again.” Grübner walked faster to keep up with the long gait of Maas’ stride.
Maas glared at Grübner. “I’m not so sure about that. If I were in their position, I would not give up easily. Either way, the information does not support the idea that our intruders decided to give up their efforts.” The two men rounded a corner and stepped up to a checkpoint. The two guards snapped to attention.
“Report,” snapped Grübner, eager to show the efficiency of his men. One of the security guards reached down and picked up a clipboard and handed it to Grübner. Maas watched intently. “All is normal. No incidents during our watch, sir,” said the guard mechanically. Grübner quickly reviewed the pages and handed the clipboard to Maas. Maas scanned the page quickly and handed it back to him.
“Very well,” said Maas. “All actions and incidents are documented no matter how small?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Grübner. “From my experience, to ensure compliance with a procedure, all of the a
ctions supporting the procedure must be documented in detail.”
Maas sneered at Grübner. “I trust your men are committed to security matters as well as they are committed to their paperwork.” Maas was impressed but did not want to show him any leniency. He really hated this man, Grübner.
“Sir, I assure you my men are completely committed and capable,” answered Grübner.
“We shall see,” said Maas with a slight grin. “We shall see.” The two walked further down the corridor. They were nearing Maas’ office.
“Sir, might I suggest that we interrogate the two American captives to get more information from them?” asked Grübner.
“You don’t believe my men did an adequate job?” questioned Maas, a bit taken aback at his suggestion.
“Oh, no, sir, I do not imply that at all,” answered Grübner, backpedaling with all his might. “They have been here for several days secured in relatively comfortable lodging. Maybe they will talk now. Maybe they have become a bit complacent and less confrontational. They may welcome some conversation even if it is with us.”
“Bullshit!” thundered Maas, clearly angered at his comments. Besides, Grübner had no idea that Maas had moved the two captives to another holding cell, one not so comfortable. Grübner’s eyes were like large saucers. He was scared. Maas was an evil man. He had personally seen him torture, maim and kill more people than he could count.
Grübner quickly changed the subject. “Sir, would you like to survey some of our newest sensors? These are the ones we implanted throughout the jungle in the areas not covered by our security patrols.” Maas stopped dead in his tracks.
“You limited the deployment of sensors?” Maas demanded, his eyes glaring.