by Hawk, Nate
“Hey!” Owen said with relief. “You did it?”
“Yes, it’s done,” Kelly said. “Niko’s dead. Listen, we’ve got an injured American here, though. Niko shot a hydrologist before I got to him.”
The man could be heard in the background. “I never thought this dam job would be what got me,” he said as he laughed in pain, his newly gauzed wound slowing the bleeding. “Get it, dam job?”
He trailed off on a tirade about the Marine Corps lacking a proper sense of humor.
“An American?” Owen asked. “What?... You know what, never mind! Patch him up and leave him there. I‘ll have an ambulance on the way from Bad Tolz in one minute. Get back to Munich quickly. We are going to need you.”
“I’ll be there as fast as I can, but I’m not leaving him here. Tell the ambulance to look for a car with high beams and flashers on and I’ll turn him over between here and Bad Tolz,” he said as he glanced looked down, checking his automatic watch.
He looked out the window to the waiting white Audi and thought about how fast it would go.
“I’ll be in Munich quickly.”
Kelly hung up his phone.
“Alright, Army, we gotta do something you’ve never done before - move fast!” Kelly said, trying to keep it as light as possible and distract the old man from his current plight. He moved towards the injured man and made a gesture as if he would carry the man.
“Hell is your problem?” the man asked. “You some kind of homo?”
Kelly laughed out loud.
“Listen, old man. There is more to this unfolding terrorist plot and I have got to get your gritty old ass to a hospital so I can get on with my night. I’m going to put you on my shoulders in a fireman’s carry.”
The obstinate man put up a bit of a protest but realized he didn’t have much fight left in him after the gunshot and the pressure of getting the floodgates opened. Kelly shouldered him and got moving. He crossed the footbridge at a good speed considering the freight he was carrying. The old man gave him a hard time when they got to the Audi but quickly loaded up with Kelly’s help.
Then Kelly moved the explosives from the Audi to the trunk of the white sedan. As he went around to the driver’s side of the Audi, he fished around in his pockets for the long forgotten BiFis and the cellphone. He hesitated for a moment when he realized how filthy his hands and clothes were. At least the BiFis were sealed. Kelly didn’t bother asking the man if he wanted one as he ripped the packaging open with his teeth. The man was gut shot, after all. As Kelly powered up the car’s motor, he handed the cellphone to the old man.
“Call this in to your supervisor. Tell them that your car has about 50 pounds of high explosives in the trunk.”
Kelly could feel the dirt and blood on his clothing working into the leather of the fine automobile. Finally ready, he used the car’s torque to spin the rear end around and he powered the vehicle through the trees and up the trail of crushed stone. The sports car roared to life as he fishtailed onto State Road 13 and sped over the causeway. He easily cornered another tight turn and then he was on his way to Bad Tolz.
Kelly said, “I’m not wasting any time getting back to Munich. I guess our brothers that fell before us are going to have to ride with us tonight. Keep us safe. You know what I’m saying?”
The man thought about it for a moment. “They’re always riding with us. Anyways, I’m old now and I’ll be with them soon enough. Hell, this is the most excitement I’ve had for a long time, son. Besides, I was getting tired of watching the water levels rise and fall. If tonight is my night, let it be.” Then he added, “Hooah.”
“Oorah,” Kelly answered softly as he thought about other times he’d used the term.
Kelly sped towards Munich via Bad Tolz. He had only stopped briefly when he saw the ambulance screaming up the road, lights flashing and siren wailing. The first paramedic out signaled Kelly to stay in the car as two other paramedics exited the ambulance with a gurney. A quick handshake and the old man was out of the car in 30 seconds. Kelly accelerated back onto the highway, with the old man’s last words still echoing in his ears.
“Give those bastards hell, son,” he had said.
The gas gauge showed half a tank so Kelly knew that he had enough to get the car back. It had probably been stolen from Munich anyway. He got back on the road, still vigilant for the police. He didn’t see any and continued on, pressing the gas pedal harder. He followed the signs to A8 until he merged back onto the Autobahn. In the limitless speed-zone Kelly smashed the gas pedal down like it was stolen. He laughed out loud at the dark metaphor. Stolen by a dead man.
The speed of the car on the limitless road was unnerving. Knowing that innocent lives depended on his ability to help stop the other madmen, he pushed on. Soon he began to see familiar areas so he knew which turns to take. As he got closer, the Altstadt signs helped to reel him in. Then he spotted the black BMW that contained Owen and Angelo. Kelly made an attempt to slide the Audi sideways into a nearby parking spot. The rear of the car spun around too quickly though and he lost control. The expensive car made contact with the curb. It bounced and clanked on the sidewalk and the car continued its sideways movement into a no parking sign.
He climbed out the passenger side of the car and left it there on the curb. Then he noticed a traffic officer wearing a reflective vest that had seen the misjudged maneuver. She began trotting over yelling something in German. Kelly saw her when she was about fifty yards out. He glanced her way and raised the MP5 up in the air as he walked away from the vehicle. He wanted to send a universal signal. Don’t mess with me. He had things to do and had no illusions of being slowed down by a traffic cop. The officer took the symbolic gesture at its face value, just as he had hoped.
She dove behind a stone statue like an Olympic diver going for the gold. That suited Kelly as he sure wasn’t going to shoot at her. She mic’d her radio and began talking into it. The rest was lost to Kelly because he had run behind a brick building, losing a line of sight to the woman. The black SUV was already unlocked so Kelly climbed in the back.
“What the hell was that shit?” Angelo asked, lacking better descriptive words to describe what he had seen in the rearview mirror.
“Hey, the brakes faded,” Kelly chuckled.
It was the first time the men had seen Kelly somewhat embarrassed.
“Too much adrenaline.”
There’s a cop back there gunning for me, though. Pull out slow and we’ll be fine. She didn’t see me get into the Beamer.”
“Damn it,” Angelo said as the rest of the sentence that might-have-been trailed off.
The three men began their drive, heavy in conversation. Kelly gave a Reader’s Digest version of what had happened at the dam and Owen filled him in with what had occurred on their end.
“So what are we going to do?” Kelly asked.
“Our boss says monitor the house but don’t go in. He’s contacting a Bundeskriminalamt informant.”
“That’s the German version of the FBI,” Angelo clarified.
“Yeah,” Owen continued. “They’ll succeed in contacting the Bundeskriminalamt, immediately. So we are going to stake it out. Reaction time for the Federal Intelligence Service will probably be one to two hours from now. We do have direct orders to ensure that they do not leave the premises of the house that they are currently in.”
“At any cost,” Angelo added, as he looked in the rearview mirror and made eye contact with Kelly.
Owen handed Angelo two orange tablets. The driver looked at his passenger with a smile and then tilted his head back and swallowed the pills. Then Owen turned around and offered Kelly two.
“It’s to keep you going out there. We’re all exhausted.”
“What is it?” Kelly asked.
“Adderall.” Angelo added, “pharmaceutical grade amphetamines.”
“Yeah, it will help you focus,” Owen said before switching topics. “Hey, the house is right up here.”
Kelly had
never taken anything like that. He hesitated momentarily as he considered what had been said. The BiFis were good but they wouldn’t keep him going forever. He did find himself dragging now that the latest adrenaline dump from his poor driving had subsided. He knew the military used the same substance for extended field operations to keep their men alert. He stopped thinking about it and threw the pills in the back of his mouth, swallowing without water.
“So this is how the pros keep our nation safe,” Kelly joked.
Owen glanced back again and shot an obliging smile at Kelly.
“I was apprehensive the first time. Just wait until it kicks in. Your stamina will increase and you will process information faster. You’ll be thanking us,” he promised.
“Shit,” Angelo interrupted, out of nowhere. “They’re getting ready to leave.”
As the BMW drove in front of the gate, its occupants saw the terrorists loading up in the LR4 SUVs with purpose. There were no golf bags this time, the rifles were out and load-bearing vests had been donned. The cobblestone driveway had become a last-minute staging ground. Rifle bolts were pulled back, rounds were chambered, and the men had begun situating themselves into the vehicles.
“Either somebody tipped them off or they had an SOP to commence if Niko was unreachable on his cell,” Angelo guessed. “We’ve got to stop them.”
They continued past the gate and pulled into a church parking lot. Kelly dumped his extra mags and the short-barreled rifle in the back of the vehicle. He pulled his own rifle out of the same area, knowing that it was currently loaded. He racked a round into the chamber and removed his jacket. Then he attached one 100-round beta mag on each side of the vest. Angelo and Owen were ready so they discarded their jackets too. They knew an all-out firefight was seconds from beginning.
They weren’t worried about being discreet but they were worried about the jacket getting in the way of a reload or getting snagged on something and slowing them down. It could cost one of them a valuable second that might end up costing them their lives. Angelo and Owen quickly laid out the plan and the men loaded back up and sped towards the gate. Because Kelly was not technically a member of the team, and because he was armed with a longer-range weapon, he was relegated to the less dangerous over watch duty. Kelly didn’t complain. He would assist in taking out the German terror cell in any way that he could.
The black iron entry gate had apparently remained open while the men had been in the area. It had its own lighting, in which the BMW skidded to a controlled stop. The vehicle was sideways in front of the width of the gate. It had been parked just far enough away from the gate that men could move through the gate but close enough that no vehicles could get through. The men glanced towards the house and saw stray lights that lit up the area out front.
Angelo was out first. He entered through the gate and began assessing threats in the illuminated driveway. Angelo stitched a thread of bullets through the windshield at the driver of the first LR4. The vehicle had already begun to leave the property when the black SUV had blocked its path. Blood spatter sprayed the inside of the shattered windshield. Passing through the gate, Angelo moved to the left. He wanted to draw any gunfire away from the bottleneck where the BMW was parked. He didn’t want his team hit by stray bullets intended for him, as they were entering through the gate. As Angelo moved sideways, he took out two men who were attempting to exit the shot up Land Rover. They fell over in agony. They were out of the fight but were coughing and convulsing in throes and spasms on the ground.
Kelly was right behind Angelo but instead of going left at the gate, he went right towards the open field. He was too late to shoot the remaining passenger of the first LR4. That man had already moved behind the vehicle and had taken up a position there. Kelly temporarily disregarded the man as he ran fast and hard for about thirty yards. There was a fountain where he positioned himself behind a pile of granite boulders. He laid down in the prone position as rifle rounds ricocheted around him, splashing water and dirt onto him. He looked left and saw that Angelo had laid down in the prone position. At the same time, he saw Owen coming through the gate. The man behind the SUV glanced over and seeing Owen’s vulnerability, began preparing for a shot. It was well telegraphed, though, so Kelly pulled the slack up in his trigger as the tritium reticle lined up with the man. The terrorist was down before his muzzle had an opportunity to finish moving in Owen’s direction. Kelly fired two shots with the high-powered rifle, both making entry in the upper right quadrant of the man’s chest. There was no spasm; he died instantly.
Owen made it through the gate as three men began firing from the open garage. Owen switched his rifle to full auto in highly practiced movement and fired on the run. He knew he wouldn’t hit anybody, and he didn’t. The suppressive fire did have the desired effect of causing the men to briefly seek cover, which bought him enough time to position himself to the front of the first vehicle. One terrorist made a break from the second LR4 for the front door of the house. Owen shot him in the back, full auto still on. The full auto setting had been left on inadvertently as his adrenaline had momentarily blocked his critical thinking ability. Feeling like an amateur, he corrected his mistake. Owen backed the black MP5 from “A” to “1”. As he was doing that, the man that he had shot with at least ten nine-millimeter bullets to the back stumbled forward. Blood pumped out in decreasing spurts in a last second attempt to build up his falling blood pressure. No more movement came from the man whose back looked as if it had been run through a meat grinder.
Suddenly, a large window broke out of the stone house and a hail of gunfire erupted from an upstairs window. The bullets impacted all around Angelo as he jumped to his feet in an effort to find cover. He found what he was seeking in the form of a hundred year old oak tree, further to the left but closer to the house. Kelly heard the glass break and followed Angelo’s desperate attempt to break his high school track record. Kelly adjusted his rifle and trained the sights on the window’s occupant. In an instant, the man disappeared backwards from the window. All that could be seen in the illuminated room was a large spatter of blood on the wall behind where he’d been standing. Three men in the garage saw Angelo moving for cover and regained confidence in their ability to eliminate him and Owen, who were running towards them. Kelly couldn’t see the garage well, because the vehicles blocked his view. Angelo was beginning to move behind the LR4s and Kelly worried he too would soon be lost to sight. Owen was squatted down behind the engine block of the first Land Rover, with his back to the vehicle, looking towards Kelly. The men in the garage had him pinned down and he knew it. Kelly watched the men moving closer to Owen as their feet moved right-to-left under the vehicle. He mic’d his radio.
“Owen, they’re moving in on your six,” Kelly said.
Owen looked out towards the shadows, knowing Kelly was there. Owen was somewhat comforted that Kelly had already saved him once. He clearly had skills. Suddenly, the right front tire of the vehicle exploded as the LR4 settled towards that corner of the vehicle. The SUV was known for its ground clearance, which was still substantial, even with a shot out tire. It boasted the ability to maneuver through twenty-six inches of water routinely.
Kelly watched their feet and legs approaching the vehicle as Owen said, “Roger.”
Kelly clicked his mic again.
“Don’t move an inch,” he ordered to the wide-eyed man behind the SUV.
“Got it,” was all he said.
Kelly kept his rifle on semi-auto fire and began firing towards Owen. Kelly’s first shot was two inches to Owen’s right and made impact with the approaching man’s shin. His leg shot upwards as the man reached to grab it, attempting to will the pain and destruction away. Kelly kept moving his shots to the right. More shots zipped by Owen who had taken Kelly’s advice to heart. He hadn’t moved an inch; or a millimeter.
Kelly took out the terrorist’s other leg. Predictably, the man immediately fell to the ground, forgetting about his murderous pursuit and focusing his atten
tion on his ruined legs. Kelly’s muzzle was moving fast and did the same to the next man in line. By then, the third man from the garage realized where the shots were coming from and quickly returned to his original position. As the second man was falling, Kelly moved back to the first and fired three shots that entered in the man’s posterior area. Two of the shots exited rather quickly and the man might have survived them. It was the third shot that entered his groin that finished him off. As it entered, his scrotum exploded into a contained mist inside of his pants. The bullet continued its path of destruction through his intestines. It rode the man’s spinal column the entire length to his head, where it rattled around for a millisecond. The bullet came to a stop then in his skull, but not before it had severed all activity in his cranium. As Kelly lined up his sights to dispatch the second man, Angelo moved from around the tree and stitched him with three carefully placed shots. Two perforated the man’s mid-section and the third was a throat shot that caused the pressurized blood to shoot several feet into the air. Kelly paused his trigger finger’s movement, mid-stroke, releasing the pressure as he saw the sideways profile of blood spurting into the air. The CIA team realized that the firefight was going in their favor. The terrorists were having a difficult time acquiring targets in the long shadows of the night and were being taken out, one at a time.
All three shooters on the CIA team had plenty of training in clearing residential buildings. Angelo and Owen had perfected their training at Camp Peary. Dubbed The Farm, the training facility was deep within a 9,000 acre military reservation. On the other hand, Kelly had received his training at several different military installations. Initially his training took place throughout the US but then was rehashed when he went into Iraq, and then again with the Boston PD. Even knowing they’d been trained by world-renowned experts on the science of residential entry, none of them wanted to go inside the house. The group was clearly planning to execute their terror with explosives and the men had no way of knowing if they were going into a funhouse of booby traps.