Danika rushed forward, her bare feet slapping on the floor. She was almost to the door when a guard stepped through, his pistol drawn. She slipped on her own blood and skidded to a stop before him.
“Mistress Svea," he said, recoiling at the sight before him. His eyes moved past her to the remains of Reginald's study. "What the bloody hell—?”
Danika lunged across the last few feet of open space between them and swung the poker in a vicious backhanded strike. The iron bar struck the man's temple with a resounding crack of metal on bone. His eyes rolled up as he dropped to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. As the shock of the impact made her arm temporarily numb, she let the poker clatter to the floor next to him.
She stooped to pick up his pistol and racked the slide, ensuring there was a round in the chamber. “Thank you,” she said to the dead man. She adjusted the halter-top front of her dress and hissed at the pain in her side.
Lifting the charred, bloody hem of her dress with her free hand, Danika carefully stepped over the body and went to find Reginald.
CHAPTER 41
Skye, Scotland.
Dunkeith Castle.
COOPER GLANCED AT THE picturesque silhouette Dunkeith Castle across the lake. Loch, he reminded himself. The Scots call them lochs…
He adjusted his binoculars and scanned the crenelations, picking out the guards in his enhanced night vision optics. Numbers in the bottom right corner of his field of view indicated he was a little less than 500 yards away. Right where he needed to be.
He moved his head incrementally to the right. "Any contact with the Brits?"
"SAS confirms they received our coordinates and are in position. RAF sent word to Command—they have drones on standby at our disposal. Two of 'em, loaded with Hellfires. We got four shots," replied Charlie in the darkness that enveloped the world outside Cooper's glowing optics.
Cooper turned back and peered through the pines along the west bank of the loch. He raised his binoculars again and checked the range to target one more time. From studying satellite imagery back onboard Delaware he knew Dunkeith Castle sat on a small peninsula, jutting out from the south end of the lake.
A small causeway connected the mainland to the peninsula and on this road sat four rectangular buildings that to the casual observer appeared to be tourist attractions and utility sheds. The heat signatures were way off, however. A drone overflight the day before had confirmed even at 3 o'clock in the morning, the buildings Cooper thought of as guard shacks were rife with activity and heat—consistent with security installations at high-profile targets he'd visited in the past.
Cooper focused the enhanced binoculars on the closest guard building. It clocked in at just over 550 yards out. The stark white exterior and thatched roof stood out like signs. Probably fake thatch to convince the tourists, he mused. If it's not, more the better for us. A Hellfire'll punch through that whole building in one shot. Unless it's reinforced…
Cooper watched in silence as a side door opened and a figure stepped out to light a cigarette. He easily spotted the small yet bright flare of light, magnified through his binoculars.
"Heads up, Striker. We got live ones in those outer buildings. Not too smart though, just spotted one lighting up a cancer stick."
"Idiot," muttered Jax's voice over the radio. "Don't he know he just ruined his night vision?"
"I hear those things'll kill you…" whispered Sparky. Cooper had positioned the sniper a little further down the shoreline, high on a hill overlooking the loch, surrounded by pine trees. From this vantage point Sparky sighted in and targeted the entire western half of the castle compound.
Sparky also had the all-important laser targeting system. When Cooper gave the word, the sniper would hold that to his eye and paint the guard buildings with a laser. The RAF drones orbiting above would use the laser to guide their missiles.
"All units reporting in," muttered Charlie in the darkness to Cooper's left. "Our friends are waiting for your signal."
"Striker, 2-1 Actual, Overwatch," said Sparky. "Got a small convoy of vehicles leaving the castle town, heading north."
"Shit," muttered Cooper. He swiveled the binoculars south until the headlights of the lead vehicle came into view. "Overwatch, I count seven vehicles. Looks like six cargo vans—how copy?"
After a brief pause, Sparky's voice returned to Cooper's bone phone set in his ear. "Affirmative, Actual. Lead vehicle looks like a passenger van, remaining five look like creepers."
In the darkness, Cooper turned to his left. Charlie's silhouette moved, rustling some brittle pine needles on the forest floor. "SAS just checked in—they don't know anything about it either, man."
"All units, Actual," Cooper whispered. "Hold your fire." He hated giving the command, now that everyone was in place and ready for action, but this was an unexpected complication—he wasn't about to risk the mission over something that could be a trap.
"Coop," Charlie hissed, "signal from Delaware. Command just offered SIGINT: they believe the convoy could be carrying another Council HVT. They came from Inverness—assets on the ground spotted several armed men in each. I think we're looking at some reinforcements."
Cooper clenched his jaw. "Who's the HVT?" he asked, zooming in on the lead van as it rolled up the long, sinewy gravel driveway to the castle.
"Actual, Overwatch. I have at least five heat spikes in each of the vans…" reported Sparky. "Thermal's lit up like Christmas over there, man."
"According to SAS," relayed Charlie, "the HVT is one Anna-Maria Brunner, some aristocrat from Austria. They're not sure if she arrived earlier or if she's in one of the vans. Could be looking at an official rendezvous."
"What's the word from Command?" asked Cooper.
"They want us to bag her, too," replied Charlie.
That was good enough for Cooper. "All units, Actual—prepare to begin the attack on my mark." He switched frequencies. "Overwatch—paint the guard buildings, dealer's choice."
"Roger that," was Sparky's response.
Cooper watched through his binoculars as an infrared beam appeared over the calm waters of the loch and reached out to touch the closest guard building. It held steady.
The man enjoying his cigarette smoke walked right through the beam, oblivious to the invisible threat it posed. He strolled along the length of the building, then leaned against the corner, blowing smoke into the air.
"You're about to have a shitty day…" muttered Cooper.
"Target locked," said Jax. "I got good tone," he muttered. "Firing in three, two, one…missile away."
"Holding steady…" announced Sparky.
Cooper stretched his hearing to pick up the sound of the missile as it streaked down from the heavens through the low cloud deck. He heard only a faint whoosh a split-second before the entire guard shack disappeared into a ball of fire and flaming debris spreading out over the loch.
"Shifting target," reported Sparky as the muffled explosion reached Cooper's ears.
"Good kill, multiple secondaries," reported Charlie from his position to Cooper's left. "Hey, you're not gonna believe this…" Charlie laughed. "That guy with the cigarette made it out!"
"Missile two away," called out Jax.
"Bravo, Actual—stop those vans!" called out Cooper. "All units, proceed with your attack!"
Cooper ignored the chorus of confirmations that echoed over his headset and focused on Jax as he and Sparky shifted their aim to the third building and let loose another unseen missile from the skies. The second building exploded much like the first, showering the road and driveway with flaming bits of debris and burning thatch.
Guess it was real straw…
Cooper frowned as the lead van sped straight into the wreckage despite the withering fire from SAS commandos in the tall grass along the causeway.
The next missile decapitated the third guard shack in a spectacular fireball.
"Oh damn! That guard just bought the farm. You ran into the wrong building, buddy..." laughed
Charlie.
"Actual, Bravo Six—be advised: that lead lorry's built like a tank! Can't bloody stop it!"
"Bravo six, Overwatch. Painting the lead van now—I got something for it," said Sparky.
"Good tone…hold it steady…missile away!" added Jax.
"Actual, Bravo is moving to target."
Cooper slipped his binoculars inside his waterproof gear bag. "That's our cue. Let's go." He swiveled in position and felt his legs hang out over the embankment that rolled down to the water. One hand on his rifle, the other on his dive fins, Cooper pulled his arms tight to his chest and slid down the sandy slope. His feet hit the water's edge with a quiet splash and found purchase among the rocks hidden in the water. Even through the thick combat dive suit, he felt the chill of the loch's waters envelop him. Charlie splashed in to his left.
Cooper grunted as the cold sent a lance of pain shooting up through his injured right thigh. There'd been little time for him to rest since leaving the White House—this mission was too important. He hoped the expedient sutures held his leg together long enough to swim across the loch and breach the castle. He slipped on his fins and frowned in the darkness. A nagging voice whispered in his mind: And if they don't?
The hell with it—I don't have time to bleed.
"Ready," whispered Charlie.
"Let's go. Actual and Two are Oscar Mike." Cooper slipped his rebreather mask over his face and activated the dive system. The last image Cooper had of the castle across the cold waters of the loch was a third explosion blossoming out over the top of its high walls.
Cooper smiled as he slipped beneath the waters, silent as a ghost. The guards were having a rough night.
"Good kill!" called out Jax.
Cooper gave his leg a test kick and winced at the pain. He clenched his jaws and forced the feelings to the back of his mind as he propelled himself through the murky depths toward his target.
He listened to the combat chatter as the SAS commandos emerged from the surrounding woods and hiding places along the causeway to join the fray. Warnings flew about the rear van as doors opened and defenders poured out, shooting into the darkness.
The SAS moved forward toward their objective cutting down anything in their path with methodical precision. They took a few casualties, but not enough to slow down the attack.
To take his mind off the pain in his leg as he swam, Cooper tracked how many effective combatants were still at his disposal. By the time he passed the halfway point across the loch, keeping track of these numbers was all he could do in the face of the flaring burn in his right leg.
"How you doing?" grunted Charlie's muffled voice as he swam.
Cooper checked the heads-up display built inside his dive mask and noticed Charlie was significantly further along their path toward the far shore. Where Cooper struggled to maintain his speed, Charlie seemed to move faster and faster with every second.
"Hangin' in there," Cooper grunted.
"Last missile away!" called out Jax. "Overwatch, I'm on my way," he reported.
"Copy that Three, I'll be ready to move in just a second."
Cooper struggled through the black water, fighting vertigo—he was deep enough now he could no longer tell which way was up or down. He closed his eyes for a moment and focused on the rhythm of his kicking.
"Good kill, good kill, good kill!" called out Jax, his voice shaky as he ran.
"Packing up, Three. Meet you in the water," replied Sparky.
A moment later, Jax's mask-muffled voice broke squelch. "Actual, be advised: we're en route to the RP."
"Roger that, Three," gasped Cooper. He clenched his jaw as he swam, struggling to maintain an even strain in his voice. His whole leg felt like it was on fire now and he worried every time he kicked he'd feel the sensation of flesh or stitches giving way under the dive suit.
"Actual, Two is on the rocks."
Cooper blinked back the sweat dribbling down his face and peered at the blurry HUD. He was only a few moments away from the shore himself. He looked again through the murky water and watched a dark shape materialize.
"I got boulders on the bottom—30 seconds out."
Cooper broke the surface of the water as slowly as possible, letting his legs float limp behind him, relishing the relief in his thigh. He hoped the cold water would soon numb the pain radiating from his torn quadriceps. There's at least one good thing in all this, he told himself, I can't feel the God damn knee…
He held his position scanned the shoreline. A steep, rocky embankment loomed over him. The glistening rocks ranged in size from basketballs to small cars. Charlie was ten feet up the slope, wedged between two large boulders, his rifle aimed toward the castle walls.
"No movement on the walls," he reported.
"Roger, coming up on your six." Cooper put his feet down and pushed, wincing through the pain in his leg as he emerged from the loch's cold embrace. He reached down and slipped off his dive fins, letting them sink out of sight into the dark depths before peeling off his mask and putting it in the water.
Won't be needing them again.
Cooper shouldered his dripping rifle and clambered up the slope as quietly as he could to a position just right of Charlie. He rested his back against a solid, slick boulder and wiped the sweat from his eyes.
"No lights, no movement, no nothing on the far shore," he reported. "No reinforcements visible yet. That's good." Yet he knew, somewhere out there in the middle of the loch, Sparky and Jax followed in his wake using their rebreathers to stay a good 15 feet below the surface.
It'd been a complete pain in the ass to drag the heavy dive equipment across Skye over the past 24 hours, but the mission plan had been solid. Their rebreathers gave them the final element of surprise during their transition from observation to frontal assault.
Cooper peeled back the tight-fitting rubber skin over his neck and felt the cold air kiss his wet hair. He felt invigorated and turned to look at Charlie. "Still clear up top?"
In the darkness, Charlie appeared nothing more than a shadow with a long point sticking up. He never moved his head from his rifle. "Clear."
Another explosion rocked the interior of the castle and the sound rolled down on them like a physical presence. A flash of light lit up the high walls of the keep from inside the main yard. For a moment, Cooper thought he saw figures perched at the top of the tall keep.
"Let's get the rig ready for Sparky. I want him up that tower as fast as possible. We're sitting ducks down here until we get eyes up high."
"Copy that," whispered Charlie. He turned and exposed his pack as Cooper crawled closer. Cooper rifled through the outer pockets until he found the appropriate gear: a long length of rappelling line and an explosive bolt grappling hook attachment.
He turned and Charlie pulled out the heavy rifle adapter from Cooper's pack and attached it to his own rifle. He loaded the grappling hook rig and slid it down inside the barrel of his rifle, locking the rope in place.
Charlie took aim with the ungainly coil hanging off the end of his rifle. "Three, two, one…" Cooper heard a muffled pop and the whissh of the rappelling line as it chased the grappling hook up the sheer face of the hundred-foot tall central keep. In the darkness and without night vision, Cooper could only trust to Charlie's aim.
Charlie held his position for a moment then abruptly dropped his rifle and pulled on the rope. "Solid contact, it's locked and ready."
As Charlie busied himself with anchoring the end of the rappelling line, Cooper turned back to the loch. "Overwatch, we're ready for you."
"Thirty seconds," replied Sparky with barely a hint of strain to his voice.
Cooper heard a faint splash to his left and watched as Jax emerged from the water and slithered up the rocks. To his right, a duplicate wraith emerged carrying a long gun. Sparky took position next to Charlie and, after a moment to catch his breath, he grabbed onto the rope and climbed his way up the embankment. He paused at the base of the castle wall and jerked his thumb up.
Charlie handed the length of the rope to Cooper and Jax as he approached the group. "He's ready. Let's do this… haul on three. One, two, three."
The men grunted in unison and pulled on the line. As it wound its way through the carabiner attached to the rocks in front of Charlie, the grappling hook acted like a pulley. Cooper watched Sparky rapidly ascend the outer wall, pause briefly at the top, then disappear over the crenellations.
Charlie maintained a steady pace and within a few seconds, Cooper spotted Sparky emerge tight against the west face of the keep and ascend to the top. Every time an explosion touched off inside the castle, the light illuminated Sparky like a spider climbing the side of the proverbial waterspout.
"Looking good, Overwatch," muttered Cooper. They pulled again and Sparky jerked up the side of the keep another ten feet.
"No one's spotted me—SAS is keeping everyone occupied…" replied the sniper. Another 30 seconds and it was over. Sparky reached the top of the keep and disappeared through the crenelations. Cooper watched in horror as a telltale flash of gunfire erupted in a sharp staccato strobe pattern.
"Overwatch—Overwatch!"
Cooper gestured for Charlie and Jax to make their way up the slope. He held his position. "Overwatch, come in."
"Actual, Overwatch," panted Sparky. "Good to go. Ran into a little welcoming party. Surprised the shit out of them."
"Roger that. Striker is moving. Cover us."
"Copy. There's a helipad up here. One access door. Gonna rig it to blow, then I'll start the party."
Cooper made his way up the side of the embankment, falling three times and rising with a string of profanity sure to make Davy Jones blush. By the time he reached the base of the castle wall itself, Charlie and Jax were already busying themselves with rappelling gear. Cooper leaned his back against the wall and sucked in a few deep breaths of cold, fresh air.
"How you doing, grandpa?" muttered Charlie.
"Fuck you," gasped Cooper. His thigh throbbed and his vision turned red every other heartbeat.
He knew he was bleeding, but he couldn't take the time to investigate. Mission first.
Firestorm: Book III of the Wildfire Saga Page 30