Verron: Serve and Protect: Book Two (Verron Series 2)

by Douglas Varnell

  Spanish was one language that Daniel spoke pretty well, but was not all that good with since he had very little exposure to those who spoke it, but he knew for certain by the screaming and yelling at the dockside warehouse, they were not happy to see him. The night before, he had watched the first Expendables. This operation seemed more like that movie than any operation he had been on before. The cartel literally had an army guarding the place. When he and the commandoes dropped from the sky above the warehouse it didn’t take long for the shooting to begin. Daniel’s first thought was, “So much for making sure the innocent people are out, everyone here was armed and shooting at him and his men. Unlike the Expendables, these invaders in Verron body armor had no fears of being shot and quickly walked through the warehouse and dockside areas eliminating one target after another. One thing that Fuentes’ intelligence report didn’t include was the barracks for an entire army housed across the street.

  Minutes after they hit the ground and the shooting began, there had to be 300 armed and angry men swarming in from every direction. A couple of his men found themselves in close combat with a dozen men that had hidden behind boxes and leaped out to surprise the men in armor. They were not prepared for the strength of an enhanced soldier inside an exoskeleton powered body armor that multiplied that strength 20 times. Men with knives, machetes and guns were thrown about like rag-dolls, with bones snapping as they were hit or thrown so hard they broke from the impact when they hit an immovable object. Daniel was not surprised they were so well-armed, but for the first time he truly realized that these cartel armies were better equipped than the Columbian military. It took nearly a half hour to fight off all the attackers. Meanwhile, the demolition team had placed the containment bombs in place to include the warehouse and barracks. The 400 foot freighter loaded with drugs on their way out was handled separately. One of his Marines opened fire on the ship with automatic fire from his modified AR-14 loaded with whitematter rounds and in no time the ship was Swiss cheese. For good measure he tossed a golf-ball size plasma grenade onto the remains. The marines boarded their transport just as trucks full of corrupt Columbian militia were rolling toward the sight of the gun fight. In a flash of light so strong the convoy of trucks came to a screeching halt, the warehouse and adjacent building vanished, leaving a big water-filled hole in their place. The cartel soldiers that had enough sense to flee were soon telling tales of the men in armor that had destroyed their facility. They would be shot the following day by their cartel leader right after they told their stories.

  The transport was cloaked and invisible to those below as Katelyn and Bart looked out over their designated target. It was no wonder the local authorities left it alone. In a city with 8 million people, most of who lived way below the poverty level, the local authorities were not about to disrupt what little economy had developed in the Bogotá slum district. The underground cocaine processing facility was buried beneath a high ridge overlooking the city. As far as the eye could see, were shacks and make shift shelters built on top of or beside more permanent structures. The upper portion of the cocaine facility had no less than 500 people living on it or surrounding it. Access was through a maze of narrow allies and dirty gang infested streets. Dirty children looking for their next meal were everywhere even at one in the morning. There were no streetlights, but there was illumination from drum fires used to keep the homeless warm and the dim lights from windows in houses where people didn’t get much sleep at night, revealing crowds gathered everywhere around the factory.

  Bart looked at Katelyn and said, “We must be completely insane to jump out of a perfectly safe, and I might add, invisible spaceship, into a crowd of 10,000 people or more. But Bar didn’t know that after reviewing reconnaissance video shot by drones sent in earlier in the day, Katelyn decided to change her plans completely, there were just too many innocent bystanders and not-so-innocent bystanders to contend with. She made a quick trip back to the weapons room on Verron and returned with canisters of sleeping gas and stun-guns. She decided the target was the plant, not the people making their living there. If some of the bad guys got away she’d just have to deal with it, besides, she knew that if those assigned to protect and manage the plant went back to their bosses and informed them that they could do nothing to stop the destruction of millions of dollars of cocaine and equipment, they would get their just rewards.

  On her signal, gas canisters began to drop from the sky over a ten block radius. Since virtually every window below was open, it didn’t take long for the fast acting gas to give a much needed night’s sleep to a community that never slept. When the commandoes jumped from the transport to surround the entrances to the processing facility, the streets were ghostly quiet. All that could be heard was the sound of hundreds of radios and televisions still broadcasting to a sleeping audience. The team hurried into the doors protected by sleeping sentries. A quick blast from their door-buster shotgun and they were racing down the stairs. The gas had not penetrated deep into the underground plant and thousands of terrified workers began to look for cover as the armed guards who watched their every move began to fire at the intruders. They were shocked to see none of the men in gray armor hesitate in the least as they fired some strange weapon at the guards. One by one they dropped to the ground. Then a man began to shout to them in poorly spoken Spanish, saying, “Salir!” “Abandonar!” “Bomba!” They mostly stared in disbelief with leave and abandon but quickly responded to BOMB! In a panic, the men and women hurried up the stairs to the safety of the sleeping streets. Katelyn could hear horrified cries from above as they exited to what they believed thousands of dead bodies.

  Knowing that the chemicals inside this plant could explode and burn down most of the slums for blocks, they chose to carefully section the more dangerous areas with containment bombs. It took a bit longer to set the charges so they totally destroyed the cocaine and equipment without bringing down the occupied homes on top of the structure. When Katelyn finally got the nod from her demolitions team, she had everyone exit the structure and hit the detonator. They immediately re-entered the plant to make certain everything went as planned. It was spotless and free from every table, chair, processing tank and chemicals stored and also of all those who had been hit with the stun-guns, they had, after-all, been shooting at them.

  By the time they were finished, some of those who got a lesser dose of the sleeping gas began to stir. Katelyn looked-up to see a little girl about five-years old staring down from a window with the biggest eyes she had ever seen. She prayed her father was not one of the guards that died. In minutes, the team was gone. Those who had been evacuated from the factory began to rush to their now conscious loved-ones and tell them about the men who had invaded the plant. Soon the street gangs hurried down the stairs to find the now empty bays. Within an hour, hundreds of homeless who had been living on the streets moved in. They were glad to be out of the rain that rolled in an hour later.

  Efosa Bissong was having a difficult time getting used to these Verron people and the things they could do. He had been picked-up the day before the meeting in America at the U.S. Embassy in Lagos. After a very short drive from the city, they approached an empty field that was not empty. General Verron-Hall drove to the edge and honked his horn in a musical rhythm and a door appeared in the middle of the field. They left the car and hurried for the open door. Before he knew it, he was racing across the Atlantic at 6000 mph for Mississippi. When they landed inside a large hanger, he was escorted to the most luxurious room he had ever been in and later greeted by his sister Omotu for diner with Prince Hunter. Now after the meeting he had been dropped-off in Kukawa, Nigeria to meet with his contacts who had located a Boko Haram compound across the border in Cameroon. His little gray box, no more than 2 inches square, was attached to his belt. He carried the same old .38 revolver he had always carried in his local native attire. Many of the people in this village had been tormented by the terrorist for years. Some had loved-ones who were now re-educated into Isl
am and fought for Boko Haram, others had sisters who had been taken as sex slaves and wives. Efosa decided before he would call in the Elimination Unit he would investigate the location for himself. These compounds were often moving from place to place and he didn’t want to look a fool for calling in a strike for something he had not seen for himself. It was a long hard walk that took three days through the dry lands before he reached the jungles of Cameroon. He then walked another two days through the forests before he came upon a well-sheltered valley surrounded on all sides by a high ridge. He reached the top of the ridge and looked over to see one of the largest camps he had ever seen before. This was no temporary camp that would be moved in a few days. There were permanent wooden structures for housing and operations. There were well dug tunnels leading into the sides of the ridges and thousands of soldiers training and being trained. He also noted heavy artillery and dozens of heavy machineguns mounted into the backs of new trucks. Someone had been pouring some money into new equipment.

  Efosa was so engrossed with his view from the ridge he did not hear the 12 man patrol walk softly up behind him until he felt the press of a gun muzzle against the back of his head. He knew the little box worked when shot at, but he had his doubts about it working with the gun pressed firmly against his skull. The little black watch was inches from his mouth where he was holding the field-glasses for observation. He didn’t wait to hear what his captures had to say. He said, “Trapdoor!” and vanished before the patrol’s eyes. He looked up to see four white-men standing around a table going over some blueprints; three of them had the stars of a General on their shirts. The one with no rank insignia looked at Efosa in the prone position and reached down with his hand and pulled him up, saying, “You must be Efosa – I take it the watch worked.”

  Efosa was introduced to General Zarman, General Hall, Prince Hunter’s father, General Zhdanov and last to King Paul Verron, who had helped him to his feet. King Verron smiled and asked, “I assume you were in a bit of trouble and not just testing the unit to see if it works. These are a one-time use only device, so assuming you intend to return to Nigeria, we’ll have to get you another.” Efosa proceeded to tell them all about the Boko Haram compound he had found and how he had been surprised by a group of sentries. He further told them that they had not seen his face since he was lying on the ground facing away from them, partially hidden by bushes. Efosa felt embarrassed and asked, “Would the protection of the little box have worked if the man had fired?” Paul smiled and answered, “Well, I’m certainly not going to test it to find out.” Turning to one of the General’s he added, “Man has a good point. Better strap a reactor to a watermelon or something else expendable and see what happens.” He turned back to Efosa and told him, “You made the right decision. If you’re in no hurry to get back let me show you around.” Efosa then began to express the sense of urgency of getting the message to Chase and the Elimination Unit as soon as possible. General Hall handed him a communicator and he was soon giving coordinates and a description of the compound to his Commanding officer.

  Paul was impressed with the great amount of detail Efosa had gathered in just a short look. Paul then led him out of the Command Center located at the Air Force and Marine base. Efosa stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he exited the building. All around him were thousands of spaceships of every shape and size; many were larger than his entire village. He looked at King Verron and asked, “Has my sister ever been here? She told me that Prince Hunter was a remarkable man and I was convinced by my visit to Mississippi United States, but this, this is beyond any man’s dream. You are the most powerful man in the Universe to command such and army.” He began to bow and Paul kept him from it, saying, “And I put my pants on the same way you do each morning. Any man that is out there putting his life on the line does not require a bow. I should be bowing to you. Now let’s have a bite to eat and I’ll at least show you around this facility before I take you home. General Z is getting you another Trapdoor device.”

  After a lunch of a filet mignon and twice-baked potato in the Officer’s Mess Hall, Efosa was escorted around by a King to see Fighters, Light Destroyers and even the Verron Man of War. The weapons in these vessels were beyond anything he had ever laid eyes on. He always believed that the latest weapons purchased by the Nigerian militia was state-of-the-art, he knew now that they were like toys compared to what he was viewing. It was a short time later when Prince Hunter’s father, General Hall, arrived with a big smile on his face and carrying a new Trapdoor device for Efosa. He held out a small communications device much like an Earth Smartphone and said, “You gotta see this to believe it.” There was a large watermelon lying on the ground inside an indoor gun-range. Strapped to it, Efosa recognized one of the forcefield devices. A big Marine in body armor approached and placed the muzzle of an AK-47 rifle against the surface of the watermelon. He fired the weapon and there was a glaring flash that disrupted the view. When video was once again visible, the big Marine was on the ground about six feet away and the watermelon was unharmed. The General grinned, saying, “There is evidently a very severe reaction when that much energy is discharges so close to the field. That Marine would have been blown to bits if he had not had on the armor. I believe there would be a dozen fewer Boko Haram sentries if he had fired.” He turned to Efosa and handed him the watch, adding, “Feel better now?” Efosa just nodded at what he had just seen. The General shook Efosa’s hand and told him, “Come back for a real visit when you can stay longer, my friend. We appreciate what you are doing for us and would love to show it, and bring your sister.” He turned and left. King Verron asked, “You want to go on the raid with Prince Chase and the boys, or would you prefer to wait it out.” Efosa smiled and told him, “If possible, I would like to be a part of it.”

  Paul made a gateway directly to the U.S.S. Carl Vinson and the top secret hanger bay that housed the unit. Those on the Elimination Unit had grown accustomed to Paul’s unannounced appearances and simply stood to acknowledge his presence and went about their business. Paul stepped into Chase’s office and found him and LTC Bentley and Martinez already reviewing holographic images of the Boko Haram compound Efosa had called them about. Once again Efosa was impressed with the technology available in the fight against terrorism. He knew he would never want to be the enemy of Verron. Paul told everyone there what a great job they were doing and stepped to the hanger to mingle a bit with the soldiers preparing for an assault then disappeared back to Verron. LTC Bentley looked at Efosa and said, as he pointed to Chase, “If this one or anyone else tries to tell you you’ll get used to it, they’re liars. You’ll never get used to it. Let’s see if we can’t find you some body armor.” Efosa grinned, thinking, “Body Armor!” He felt like a kid with a new toy.

  After reviewing the drone reconnaissance footage, it was decided to assault the compound the old fashion way, by dropping the team on every side and marching into the valley to clear the camp. It would have been much simpler to blow the whole place apart from the air, but Boko Haram was notorious for capturing people and this camp was no exception. There were hundreds enslaved inside this headquarters facility and Chase had no desire to harm any of the innocents. They divided into three groups, one on each side, north, south and west. On the east side was the main exit point and Chase had the heavily armed transport positioned to block the path and eliminate any who tried to escape that way. Since the camp commander ordered no fires or light allowed in the compound at night, the only ones who could see were the members of the Elimination Unit. Efosa couldn’t believe he could see his surroundings just like it was the middle of the day. He had worn night-vision headgear before, but this was literally day-vision and in full color. He had no idea how it was done, but it made a tremendous difference while moving through the thick forests surrounding the camp.

  Even in the dark, the sentinels soon discovered the intruders and began to sound the alarm and fire at the invading force. Efosa was armed with one of the 5.56mm whitematter weapons an
d began to clear a path towards the center of the compound where he suspected the prisoners from raided villages to be confined. At first he would flinch when an enemy would step from behind a barrier and fire at him, but he soon came to accept the fact that they would do him no harm and pushed faster toward the wooden structure with the high fence around it. He reached it at the same time LTC Verron reached it and discovered six Boko Haram guards in the middle of the captured women and children threatening to shoot the hostages unless they were allowed to leave. Efosa laid his weapon down and walked toward the captures attempting to make a deal. Before he could finish his opening statement, all six men were dead on the ground from no apparent gunshot wound or injury of any kind. Chase Verron had exploded their hearts where they stood behind the women. As they hit the ground, the women began to kick them. They felt nothing, but it made the women feel better.

  With hundreds of dialects in Nigeria, the women were surprised when Efosa began to speak to them in their own tongue. It was obvious to them that the man in the armor was a local; he even spoke the names of some he recognized. Efosa was dying to remove his headgear and console the frightened people, but could not afford to blow his cover. He knew he would see most of these people again on the other side of the Nigerian border. When the camp was cleared, Efosa found several young men who they taught how to operate the trucks. When the sun came up the convoy of trucks headed out the dirt road for the short drive home. Little did the people aboard the trucks know, that high overhead, unseen by anyone on the ground, were two armed satellite drones prepared to target and fire on anything that came out of the surrounding woods to bother the escapees. Efosa removed his body armor and once again dressed in his more traditional clothing. Chase dropped him off a few miles outside Kukawa, where he entered the village just as he had left, on foot. He was looking forward to working with these men he had just met.