Alpha Threat

by Ron Smoak

  “Damn you, you son-of–a-bitch!” Dana screamed. “You bastard!” Dana hurled every expletive she could think of at Maas.

  Maas merely smiled and reached into his pocket and brought out a handkerchief. He grabbed Dana’s face with one hand and pried open her mouth with his fingers. She felt the pain of him forcing her jaw open. He roughly jammed the handkerchief in her mouth and stepped back. Dana’s eyes were as wide as saucers and full of tears. She saw this on TV and movies but had no idea how much it hurt to have something jammed into her mouth. She tried to scream again but just a muffled sharp grunt came out. Maas smiled again.

  “See,” he said quietly, “We have ways to quiet you down.” He reached up and ran his hand down the side her face and down across her left breast. Dana’s eyes widened and he squeezed her lightly. “Very, very nice,” said Maas almost nicely. “I’ll get to you in a minute.”

  The two guards finished lashing her ankles together. Now she could only whimper, hanging there helpless. Randall was still woozy lying on the floor a few feet away.

  Maas motioned for the guards to step back. He stepped up to Dana and stood in front of her gazing into her eyes. She was petrified with fear. She had seen what this monster could do to a man. She was afraid she was next. She was right. He looked at her menacingly and reached up and wiped some of her blood trickling down her arm from her wrist with his finger. He put his bloody finger in his mouth.

  “Mmmm, you taste good,” he said. “Don’t worry, my dear. Your time will come very soon.”

  Dana thought, my time? Oh, God, what was this madman going to do to her? She was more terrified than ever.

  Maas turned to Randall, still sprawled on the floor. “Pick him up,” he ordered. “I seem to have several unwelcome visitors here in my complex. I believe they are coming after you. They have already killed several of my men. So I will ask you this only once, Mr. American. Then I will start to enjoy your lady here.” Randall’s head had cleared a bit but was not totally coherent. Maas knew this. Randall’s inability to answer would be his key to justify doing the woman harm. Maas was ready for her.

  Randall raised his head and concentrated. He knew Maas wanted Dana in the worst way. He knew he must answer. He also knew whatever plausible answer he gave would hopefully delay Dana’s fate. “They are here to free us,” Randall began, concentrating on his words. Even then they were a bit slurred. “They are U.S. soldiers coming to rescue us. The university sent them when we went missing.”

  Maas stood there motionless. He believed Randall. These intruders were well trained, he thought. Look what they had done to some of his crack troops. Maas rubbed his head with his hand. “How did they find us?” demanded Maas.

  “The radio... We used the radio. We called for help,” answered Randall, deliberately misleading the German. “When your men jumped us and killed some of our group, we called in for help and gave them our location. They simply brought in troops and are now coming to get us. We told them where your complex was and how to get here. It sounds like they have come as we asked.”

  Maas’ face was becoming red. If this was true, the battle was just beginning. He had to move and move fast right now. But he glanced over to his prize, the American female. She was young and beautiful. He wanted to ravage her more than anything else. But he must be alive to do that and the intruders outside were definitely closing in. He had to make a decision and make it fast.

  “Chain the man to the wall over here,” demanded Maas. The guards walked over and picked up Randall, dragging him over to the wall opposite Dana. “I want him to have a front row seat while I torture this bitch.” With that Maas walked out of the room.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  Monday, July 18, 2011

  Deep within Fortress Alpha; 8:00 a.m.

  It was quiet. Hugo stuck his head out of the door of the closet to look down the hallway. A single shot rang out and the bullet smacked into the door frame barely missing his head. Sparks flew as the bullet crashed into the metal frame with a loud clink. He pulled his head back and turned to Dane. “It’s hot out here,” he said, bursting through the door and into the recess across the hall. The door barely moved. Even his weight could not force it open. He leveled his weapon as one of the Germans peered around the corner. Hugo fired his silenced weapon and the burst smashed into the German’s face, knocking him back against the far wall now spattered with blood and brain matter.

  Hugo reached behind and tried the door handle. It was locked. He checked the corner again, stepped out from the doorway and fired at the locking mechanism. It opened as another German rounded the corner. He stepped back into the open door a step and fired another burst, taking down the two Germans who decided to throw caution to the wind and rush Hugo.

  They got exactly two steps each before Hugo’s burst cut them down. Three down, Hugo noted in his mind. He wondered how many to go. He glanced over his shoulder. There was the stairway they were trying to locate. Still covering the corner, Hugo motioned for Dane to come over. Dane peeked out of the opening and leveling his weapon at the corner scooted across the hall and past Hugo into the stairwell.

  “Go on,” cried Hugo. “I’ll hold ‘em off here.”

  Dane nodded his understanding and galloped down the metal stairs. He immediately realized he was making too much noise and slowed a bit. He came to the first landing. He took a quick look down to the next landing. Immediately the stairway was alive with gunfire. The sharp clink of lead hitting the steel stairs and the powdery dust from the bullets smashing into the concrete walls threw a blanket of haze and confusion over the area. If it was not for Dane’s safety glasses he was wearing, the tiny bits of concrete would have caused temporary blindness, something you cannot afford in a close firefight.

  At the same time he heard gunfire back up the stairs. Evidently Hugo was wreaking havoc on his own. Dane reached into a large pocket on his vest and produced an M67 fragmentation grenade. With bullets still peppering the concrete walls around him, he pulled the pin and released the spoon. After waiting about a second or two, Dane tossed the grenade over the railing and down the space between the two opposing stairways. He turned his head, crouched and readied himself for the explosion. Within seconds there was a deafening explosion magnified immensely by the closed confines of the stairwell. The concussion stunned Dane momentarily.

  After a second or two to clear his head, Dane jumped up, raised his weapon, charged down the stairs to the next landing. Smoke was all around. He pushed himself against the far corner of the stairwell and pointed his weapon down to the bottom floor. As the smoke began to clear he could see several bodies lying about him. No one was moving so he carefully stepped down the stairs until he was amidst the bodies. There was no one left alive. Five men and their weapons were sprawled out at the base of the stairs. They didn’t expect to encounter a hand grenade. Dane looked back up the stairs. He still heard shots being fired from above. For a second his thoughts turned to Hugo. Then he quickly realized Hugo was well equipped to take care of himself.

  Dane stepped over to the door. He could hear someone on the other side. He reached down with one hand and tried the handle. It was not locked. He used a foot to move one of the bodies away from the base of the door and took position against the concrete wall. He threw open the door and stepped in, leveling his weapon at several Germans in the hall. Immediately he felt a blow to his head and stars filled his eyes. Then everything went black. Dane fell flat on his face. A German stepped away from the side of the door, his weapon still raised. As Dane had come through the door, the man had smashed the butt of his assault weapon into the back of Dane’s head just below Dane’s hairline. Two other Germans quickly jumped on Dane and removed his weapon and his grenades.

  “Bring him,” commanded the group leader. “Take him to Maas.” Two other Germans reached down and grabbed Dane by his arms and dragged him down the hall.

  Maas rounded the corner and saw Dane. “Well, you got one!” he bellowed. “It’s about damn time.
” Maas motioned with his hand as he spun around and walked back to his playroom. The guards struggled to drag Dane as they followed Maas. When the group came to the heavy door of the playroom, Maas stopped and turned to look at Dane. “Who is this son-of-a-bitch anyway? Bring him in and check him for ID.”

  “Sir, he has no unit patches on his uniform,” said the soldier. “He’s not a U.S. soldier.”

  “Bullshit,” bellowed Maas. “He damn well fights like one. I don’t care if he has Mickey Mouse on his suit. ”

  The heavy door opened and Maas stepped in. “I have a surprise for you. We have another visitor,” announced Maas, turning to see his men drag Dane into the room. Dana looked at the unconscious man. He looked familiar.

  “Oh, my God, Dane!” she screamed. Maas’ head snapped around to look at Dana.

  “So you know this bastard?” he asked. “He came to free you?”

  Randall, still foggy, did recognize Dane but wanted to try to protect him. “Dana, that’s not Dane. It’s only some soldier.” Maas turned his gaze to Randall, who was chained to the opposite wall. Dana realized she screwed up by letting Maas know she knew Dane. She immediately picked up on Randall’s lead. She decided to say nothing more.

  “So you don’t know this guy?” asked Maas smiling. “No, I think you do. I think you know exactly who he is.” Dane started to stir, still flanked by the two German soldiers. “Let’s see what he can tell us,” said Maas, walking over and standing over Dane.

  Dane’s head was spinning. He never saw the man that cracked his skull and sent him into never-never land. He made a critical error, one that may cost his life. He tried to open his eyes. He was welcomed by a blurry vision of several people standing over him. He decided it would not be prudent to try to take all of them on at once.

  Dane slowly shook his head, still trying to clear his mind. All he knew was he was in a large, dungeon-like room with walls made of stone. There was a noticeable smell of smoke as he saw the open fire in a firebox/fireplace to his right. The air was moist and dank except for the slight smoky haze. But there was something else here. There was the smell of fear and suffering. This was definitely not a friendly place.

  “Welcome back, asshole,” chided Maas. “I’m glad you are still with us. Maybe you can clear up some things for me.”

  Dane looked at Maas. “And who the hell are you?” he asked almost humorously, letting out a grim smile. “Oh, you must be the Devil himself.” He slowly came up on one knee. The two guards beside him stepped back but still held their weapons trained on him.

  Maas stepped over and stood in front of Dane. He used his hand to motion to the guards to step back. “I will ask the questions here. Don’t try anything. My men would love the chance to kill you.” Maas turned away from Dane, relishing his control over this intruder. As he stepped away, he began asking questions. “Who are you and where did you come from?” Maas commanded in a low, controlled voice. “I assume that you are part of the army that is attacking us.”

  Dane looked at Maas. “Part of a huge army encircling this complex,” Dane said calmly, his head clearing. He mentally checked his acuity as he looked around the room. First and foremost he saw Dana hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room beside a naked, bloody man. He also saw Randall chained to the opposite wall looking untouched. Although hanging by her wrists and barefoot, Dana was still wearing the gray overalls given to her earlier. She did not look molested in any way…yet. He winked at Dana. She winked back. Dane looked at Maas. “Looks like I interrupted your fun.”

  Maas spun on his heels and strode back over to Dane and looked him in the eyes. “With one order I can have you killed. Or better yet, we can work on you like this pig here,” he said, motioning toward Grübner, still hanging now unconscious. Dane glanced at Maas’ victim. What a mess.

  “Nice work. So what happens now?” asked Dane.

  Maas laughed. “Easy. You talk,” he said loudly, “or I kill you and this twerp chained to the wall and I rape this beauty from now ’til hell freezes over!” Maas was grinning broadly as he stood beside Dana.

  Dane watched Maas fondle his sister but suppressed his growing anger. “I do have some prepared comments, if that’s what floats your boat,” chided Dane, attempting to piss off Maas. Dane figured if he could get Maas mad he had a better chance at causing enough commotion that he may be able to jump a guard and get a weapon.

  Maas laughed again. His guards stared at him. They had neither seen nor heard Maas laugh like this.

  “You are a funny but dead man. You simply don’t realize it yet,” chided Maas.

  “So,” said Dane looking around the room, “I love what your decorator has done. Early twelfth century, I believe?” Maas grinned and walked over to Dane.

  “You have no idea what you are into here.”

  “Sure I do. Let me tell you. This is a large underground complex with several thousand devoted Germans set to wreak havoc on the world. How will you do that? You are making gold and have a plan to set the financial world on their ear. Once that is done, your folks take over the world. Am I close?” Dane stared directly into Maas’ eyes, waiting, searching for a glimpse of weakness.

  Maas was stunned at Dane’s knowledge. And he couldn’t hide it. Randall, who heard the entire explanation, was astounded. Making gold? What the hell was Dane talking about? You can’t make gold.

  Maas quickly regained his composure. “Well, we have done some homework, have we not? But that won’t stop your dying.”

  “No, probably not, but it just means I will be in heaven a few minutes before you get to hell, asshole. Half of the U.S. and Brazilian army are closing in on this complex with firepower you cannot conceive. Talk about shock and awe… you and yours are going down, hard.” Dane grinned at Maas. He was still trying to piss Mass off, big time. It was working.

  Maas strode over to a telephone and dialed a number. With his back to the room he spoke quietly but sternly. After a minute or so he hung up the phone and turned toward Dane.

  “You think you have won, do you? Well, you have not. I have called in reinforcements to match your forces. They will be wiped out within hours.”

  Dane laughed openly. Maas threw back his head, hands on his hips and laughed.

  Dane smiled and wiped sweat from his head and face. He glanced at the guards, who were not paying attention. Maas’ laugh and smile vanished in less than a second. In one fluid motion, Dane leaped up from the floor, pulled a knife from his vest. Before the guards could react, Dane had one arm around Maas’ neck and the tip of the knife at his throat. The guards stepped back and leveled their weapons at Dane and Maas.

  “Put down your weapons!” demanded Dane, slicing into Maas’ neck, blood oozing from the cut. Maas reached up and tried to grab Dane’s arm. Dane pulled back, exerting a huge amount of pressure and pain on Maas’ neck as he dug the tip of the knife into the underside of Maas’ jaw. Maas immediately froze. “I’ll cut this guy’s head right off if you don’t drop your guns, NOW!” The two guards glanced at each other and at Maas. Maas’ head was pulled back so far that the guards could not see his eyes or get a sense of Maas’ intentions. Both guards dropped their weapons and stepped back.

  “Now, that is smart,” said Dane. “Get your butts over by the fire.” Dane kept pressure on Maas’ neck as he turned to watch the guards move over by the fire. Dane sliced into the underside of Maas’ jaw leaving a three-inch gash. Maas grimaced in pain as blood began to run down his neck. Dane shoved Maas to the ground over toward the two guards. Before Maas hit the floor, Dane reached down and scooped up his weapon from the floor and aimed it at the men.

  “Okay, let me tell you what will happen. You,” Dane pointed at one of the guards, “get her down, now!” The guard began to move over toward the lift control. Maas and the other guard began to move slightly. “Whoa! You move, you die. It’s that simple,” commanded Dane, aiming at Maas and the guard. “Anyone comes through that door, you die. As you said yourself, no more nice guy.”r />
  Dane stepped back a few steps so he could survey the guard at the lift controls and the other two by the fire. There was a whirring sound as the guard lowered Dana to the floor. She moaned slightly as she touched the floor and her arms were relieved of the weight of her body.

  “Unlock her shackles!” Dane commanded. The guard started to move toward Dana. “Very slowly,” threatened Dane, watching closely. “You touch her and you die.” The guard held out his hands and stepped over slowly to Dana. He stood there a second and very slowly reached into his pocket and produced the shackle keys. Dana painfully raised her hands toward the guard. He unlocked her right hand. Dane noticed a bloody ring around her wrist as she grimaced in pain when the shackle came off. He fought back his emotions seeing what these pigs did to her and Randall. The guard turned the key to unlock the second shackle, looked at Dane and then dove for his weapon.

  Dane’s bullet caught the guard in the head in mid-air. He was dead when he hit the floor. Immediately Maas and the other guard rushed Dane. One of Dane’s shots hit one guard in the chest just as Maas grabbed Dane. Dane’s silenced weapon spun across the floor as Maas and Dane rolled on the floor.

  Dana threw off her last shackle and limped over to Randall as fast as she could move. Dane rolled Maas over on top of him and drove his thumb into the open gash under Maas’ jaw. Maas screamed in pain and let up a bit. That was all Dane needed as he threw Maas off, against the wall. Dane stood up, wiped his face and glanced at Dana and Randall. Dana had the guard’s keys and was trying to unlock Randall’s chains.

  When Dane looked back Maas came at him, grabbing him in a bear hug, both men slamming into the hanging Grübner. There was a nasty sounding wet, crunching sound as the impact dislocated both of Grübner’s shoulders, immediately placing all of his weight on his two out-of-socket joints. Even with Grübner’s silent suffering, this was too much for him. He screamed at the top of his lungs as his left shoulder joint split open revealing a bony, bloody arm socket.