Red Leader winced at his soldier’s ignorance. She was smart, this bitch. He would leave his man after quickly attending to him. The man would live, but his career was over, as was his income. He would run out of money, become an alcoholic and eventually die, broke and alone. Red Leader had seen this pattern many times.
The four remaining soldiers literally smashed their way through the panelling behind the screen with the butts of rifles. Soon they were in the passageway. Sizing the directions Red Leader had no choice except to split the remaining four. He took a point man and headed north, the passage that would eventually be a dead end. Another two men headed south, right toward Abbey, David, Rocko and Stacey.
The two foot-soldiers took stock at the first bend, spying the long fifty-metre corridor. They sighted their rifles all the way down, but they did not see the cleverly hidden narrowing or hiding spot of Abbey and the team.
Figuring they may already be at the end of the corridor, one of the men loaded a small stun grenade to his secondary weapon. This grenade would shatter and spread on impact, with shrapnel splintering up to a ten-metre circle on impact. He pointed the gun and fired at the rear wall some fifty metres away. This would stun his opponent and give the second soldier time to make ground; he would then run and fire a second round, past his comrade, peppering the area at the end of the passageway so as not to give time to any survivor to get into position to retaliate. In eight seconds they would be at the end of the passageway, ready for further action or to do hand-to-hand combat.
It was a tried and tested and rehearsed plan, carried out in numerous previous ops. The soldier fired. Rocko felt the whistle of the grenade as it sailed past him at head height four feet to his left. David turned to Abbey across the passage. She did not even flinch. David felt his hair blow back. The missile was deafening on impact and his ears rung.
In the other corridor Red Leader was well advanced, almost to the dead end. There was now over 100 metres separating the two groups. He heard the projectile reverberate though the passage, but this meant nothing. He was on guard for secondary fire.
The two soldiers sprinted up the passageway. It would take just six or seven seconds for them to reach the group. Perhaps they would even notice the walls. The almost black light was now a slight glow from the resulting explosion of the grenade. When the first soldier was just five metres from the group, within one second of reaching them, he started to realise something was wrong. It was almost as if the walls were closing in on him. He couldn’t understand it. Confused, he almost hesitated but in a committed instant it would all be to no avail. He thought he saw a muzzle flash, at least the beginning of it. It was his last thought on this Earth. He took a bullet in the forehead from Abbey’s Colt 45 that almost removed part of his skull. It was only momentum and size that even kept him in a forward motion, crashing to the floor right next to the entrance to Abbey’s hiding place. She didn’t flinch or even look to him. It was over.
Immediately on hearing the shot, David and Rocko opened fire on the second man. This man was just a couple of yards behind the first and on their side. The soldier seeing in an instant his friend almost beheaded in front of him pivoted right and started to drop to the floor. It was less than a second later and his reaction time couldn’t beat the shots from David and Rocko. David missed completely, yet Rocko’s shot caught the man on his calf muscle and shredded it and bone. At best he would never run again. He fell almost at the entrance to the hiding place. A veteran of Iraq and Afghanistan, where he had committed atrocities that saw him never being able to return to his home in the USA, this man had been wounded before. Abbey knew he was not out. As he hit the ground she pushed her leg off the side of her hiding place. Gaining air and making herself a high speed target she literally leveraged herself mid-air over the passage high speed and let a barrage of shots ring true, whilst the soldier simply tried to aim up to hit what he must have thought was a beautiful winged assassin. One of the shots went straight through the cheekbone and tore out his throat and tongue.
Abbey hit the ground reasonably hard but rolled into the same area as David and Rocko crashing into Rocko. She looked into his alert eyes and said: “Imagine seeing you here.” In an instant she had smiled and then ordered the strong Rocko to drag the body up another ten metres in the passage and leave it. She immediately turned and dragged the first man inside her hiding space and repositioned.
Rocko was as strong as an ox. A street fighting half Arab from New Jersey, he had played football as a blocker, as well as ice hockey and lacrosse. His arms were huge and well muscled, his calves like steel and his heart and focus in situations totally aligned and purpose driven.
“Quick – you have about eight seconds,” Abbey noted.
Rocko dumped the second soldier another ten metres up the tunnel and got back into hiding in around seven seconds. It didn’t matter, everything had gone quiet.
Abbey was now back in her original position. Stacey was shaking and trying not to look at the first dead soldier who was almost lying at her feet. Shaking with adrenalin from the ordeal David and Rocko tried to regain composure.
Further back, Red Leader and his point man had made quick time back past the situation room, noticing their comrade had passed out from his injury. “Soft,” thought Red Leader, noting that he should never take on anyone without proven combat experience or who had taken a few knocks in the past. At the corner leading down the passageway they stopped. Red Leader took a mirror and shone it around the corner to establish the situation. In the dim light to which his eyes were accustomed he saw one of his men fallen some thirty or so metres up this passageway. He could not see the second man, nor his adversaries.
Red Leader took a regular grenade from his kit. He would have to throw this to the position of his fallen soldier. He had no illusion that he was alive. He figured on a hiding spot he could not see. As a teenager growing up in Australia he had been a highly regarded cricketer. His ability with a grenade and accuracy was legendary.
He threw the grenade… thirty-five metres. It sailed past the hiding spot and was almost at the dead soldier and it exploded with a huge force. This one nearly knocked David off balance. Immediately he heard Abbey scream and he looked her way. She started with a couple of obscenities and screamed in pain.
“I’ve been hit. Quick they will come – patch me. I can’t use my arm.”
Panicking as soon as he heard the first scream, David turned to Abbey who was winking, smiling and screaming. Rocko had already caught on.
“Jesus, my balls, I’m bleeding. Oh my God no…”
Hearing the cries Red Leader made his move. Driven by rage for his fallen men and the ego of a twenty-year veteran, he was sure he had caused damage and as such misjudged the position. He and his point man left their secure position and started firing incessantly to clear any chance of retaliation. It did not matter.
Abbey simply unrolled a grenade and flicked it around the corner. The resulting explosion again was deafening and all went quiet. Allowing the smoke to clear for around ten seconds she spied her results.
The point man was unconscious or perhaps dead, face up on the floor in a twisted position. Red Leader had taken a lot of shrapnel, to the legs, face and one arm. His rifle was lying a couple of metres in front of him. Almost totally incapacitated, he was stunned and just starting to come to. Immediately as his awareness returned he started to crawl for his rifle. Abbey simply opened up from her hiding hole and shot him in his other good arm. Writhing from the burn and the bullet that severed his wrist bone he rolled and groaned. Abbey indicated for the group to stay and stepped out to view her work.
“Who are you working for Captain?” she said to the dying man.
“You….” struggling to clear his throat. “You know I cannot tell you. You know I don’t even know. You know how this works.…”
Struggling more, he tried to pull himself up into an upright position so he could spy this woman more clearly. He spat some blood and asked: “Who are you?”
> Abbey looked at him firmly and spoke coldly.
“Your saviour, Captain.” And with that she raised her Colt 45 and shot him right between the eyes.
16
“OK everyone, it’s time to move on,” said Abbey now having returned to the group. She noticed that David looked tired and Rocko looked engaged. She thought he had been enjoying the encounter in some weird way.
“David, can you help Stacey? She will be in a little shock. Just head to the end of the corridor and turn left. Wait for me by the door, you’ll see. I will just be a minute. Mind yourselves with the debris down there. That grenade will have made a mess, but this structure is pretty strong. It should be. It’s been here millions of years. We just altered it a little.” And with that she turned and jogged quietly back toward the situation room.
David assisted Stacey and along with Rocko they headed up the passageway and around the corner. The light was dim, yet they still never turned to see the fallen soldiers. David was keen to move on fast. Although the thought of people dying repulsed his natural soul at one level, he couldn’t help but be even more attracted by Abbey. In fact this hot girl, with a gun, who actually was prepared to use it and who’d saved all their lives with a smile, downright turned him on. They came to a key-coded door and next to it was another alcove. They took rest in the alcove and waited.
Abbey reached the situation room and all was quiet. She did, however, pick up a little bit of rustling, so with her weapon fully cocked she entered the room swiftly.
“Whoa, Miss Bec, it’s only me Zachariah!”
A startled Zachariah was leaning over a lifeless body.
“Oh Zachariah, I’m so pleased to see you. I thought you might not have heard them.” She ran up and hugged him. Zachariah was much more than a servant. He was a military man as well, having served with Abbey’s father. The two had become friends and Zachariah took it upon himself to run the house and look after Miss Bec, a task that he’d enjoyed since she was a child.
“Is he…?” Abbey nodded at the soldier missing fingers slumped on the floor, as she released her hug.
“Yes, Miss. He was unconscious. It was for the better. He would be useless to them and bitter with us.”
Abbey noticed the awkward position of his head in relation to his spine.
“How did you know they had got through the perimeter?” she enquired.
“I’m an old hand, Miss, I felt something was wrong, so I used the signaller to signal our head guard and didn’t receive a reply. I simply hid in the pantry roof as one of the safe places until I knew they had found this room and heard the explosion. Then I quietly slipped down, armed myself and found this soldier.”
Abbey looked at him and took the black man’s hand.
“Did you manage to get a message away?”
“Yes Miss, I did. Even before I got in the hideaway. The Eagle is aware.”
“Oh good Zachariah. I wouldn’t want to be another of this group outside now. The Eagle will be pissed.”
Both people simply smiled knowingly at each other.
“Go, Miss, ensure your friends are safe. I will call some people and have this mess cleaned up shortly.”
Abbey turned and ran back to the screen, stopping one minute to review the carnage of blood and death in her cinema room. She treasured Zachariah, who was always dependable. As she ran back down the corridor to the others, in her mind she laughed. Anyone who was outside was going to wish they weren’t.
17
In the dim early morning light some 400 metres above Abbey’s home, the Eagle, a.k.a. Major Peter Beckingsale a.k.a. Dad to Abbey had set up his position. A few years earlier he had moved out of the big home where Abbey lived, which he felt was pretentious, to a smaller home higher up on the mountain. When he had got Zachariah’s call he was awake, with his eyes shut. He too had a sixth sense for trouble. He had woken a half hour before and was contemplating getting up. Knowing his daughter as he did he was sure she would use the passageway. He could not get down to the house that fast, but his own balcony overlooked most of the land around the house and he had set up his Mauser long-range sniper rifle in his usual best time. Clearly he saw two targets both almost 400 metres below.
On the road above the house and 100 metres down the road was a black van. The back window was open and through his night scope he could see the barrel of a precision sniper weapon similar to his, almost invisible to any unknowing individual. That would be cover for the other sniper. He scanned the area and he knew it well. There were only two or three positions an armed man could take if he wanted to shoot at people guarding the property. It took only a few seconds and he saw it. The man was well concealed to almost anyone’s eyes except the Eagle’s, lying flat on a stone peering over a ridge that exposed the whole exterior of the property. It was good position for a sniper thought the Eagle, as no one from below would be able to get a shot to score in that position and the second sniper in the van seemed to have anything on the street or surrounds covered. They were never expecting attack from above. After all this was a high-class residential beach suburb in a major city.
The Eagle made a slight adjustment to his scope. He judged the morning offshore breeze as slightly greater than normal and he knew these winds well. The shot itself wasn’t difficult for that rifle with that user, especially with the man lying prostate on a rock. He was almost tempted to put a ricochet off the rock into him first just to make it interesting. He didn’t and with one pull of the trigger the mighty gun splattered the sniper’s head as if it was a pumpkin.
He immediately pivoted back toward the van. Whilst his silencer ensured the second adversary didn’t hear him, he knew the man in the van would immediately know what had happened and swing to shoot.
In the van there were two men. The sniper was a highly skilled expert and yet he had a hitchhiker. Sitting in the driver’s seat frustrated, angry and injured was John. The blonde muscular assassin was sporting a deep cut across his cheek from Abbey’s strike with the crossbow on the back of the shark boat. After Abbey’s Aikido move on the shark boat John’s momentum and the slippery deck had seen him fall overboard. He was wedged between the rear of the shark cage and rear of the boat. It was a precarious position. Sharks had engulfed Jack and the sea was red with blood. If he had gone where they could get him he also would have been taken. His ankle was twisted and almost broken in the fall and entanglement. He was lucky to be just far enough from the props that he wasn’t caught up in those and he could hardly breath. The sea was churning, yet John’s personal expertise and resolve were with him.
As the boat had moved forward, slowly at first due to the weight on the anchor chain, he had to make a decision: The sharks or the woman. He chose the sharks. The boat was moving away from the blood of Jack. Although he was just metres away, they were shredding what was left of Jack and the boat disguised him. He instantly went beneath the cage hanging on for dear life. An excellent swimmer, he could hold his breath for nearly two minutes, and drawing his knife he cut away some rope and buoyancy and as the boat pulled away he let out the rope connecting him to the boat. He dodged the propellers, even though he was struggling to see in their wash, and when Abbey had looked over the back he had just disappeared beneath the cage and she couldn’t see him in the churn. He hung on for several minutes until he could not take it any more, his lungs bursting, and surfaced just for an instant behind the boat. The sharks were gone. And he breathed in the cold morning air and dived back below the surface holding on until the boat picked up a speed that would make it impossible for him to do so. He then let go and taking a buoyancy balloon he had cut free he began the long swim back to shore. He had to wait and nursing his ankle and his pride he finally checked in and had only just heard about the hit on the house. He made sure he had been picked up on the way.
The Eagle turned his Mauser to the van. He had to estimate where the sniper would position himself as the sniper’s rifle barrel was now scanning for the shooter. He pumped three shots into
the van. Three loud metal slaps, like a hammer against the side of the van rocked it. The Eagle saw the barrel slump. Mission complete.
In the front of the van John could not believe what was going on. He had seen the first sniper’s head explode like a pumpkin through his military binoculars he was using to view below, and within an instant the same adversary killed the man behind him. He didn’t know where this enemy was, but he knew death.
John gunned the motor of the van and floored the pedal. Above him the Eagle, realising there was now more than one in the van, turned aim to the position of the driver. There was no hiding for John. The tall blond man knew the shells would easily pierce the van and come seeking him. He floored the van and swerved it wildly.
Above him the Eagle never panicked. He simply took aim at where he felt the driver would be and countered for the direction and swerves of the van and started pumping shots at the van. Inside it seemed like everything again had slowed down. John had experienced near-death in the ocean in the last couple of days, yet this amazed even him. He swore he saw shells stop in mid air in front of his eyes. They took out the windscreen, the next almost destroyed the wheel and then in quick succession one came straight across him and grazed his right leg before exploding through the floor. The heat exploded inside him. Not done yet, he intuitively wrenched the wheel and another shot came straight across his cheek, its searing heat scarring him on the opposite side to the cut from the bow. He lost the first twenty or more layers of skin and was lucky not to lose the end of his nose and then the shooting stopped.
Above him the Eagle cursed. The van although only having gone about fifty or so metres was now partly obscured by a home. He could no longer fire without endangering others and he really could not get a decent shot in. He only hoped he had caused a serious injury. He scoped the area again, but all was quiet, no movement to be seen anywhere. Some lights were going on below where some people had woken to the squealing of the tires of the van. A headless man lay dead on a rock. The Eagle looked skywards. It would be dawn in a little under half an hour. He packed his rifle and went inside and put the kettle on. He knew his daughter would want some good strong coffee and a hug. He also looked down. Maybe he should put on something else except his underwear as well. He was likely to have visitors.
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