by Andy Lucas
‘Just like the Ebola outbreaks. Panic will ensue and people will flee the infected areas while authorities try to get enough of the effective antibiotics in to manage the outbreaks. With penicillin being better than useless, a lot of people will die,’ injected Munambe. ‘My people.’
‘Not if we can stop them,’ promised Hammond coldly.
‘’We will stop them,’ said Pace. ‘Now, what was this other plan that now won’t work?’
‘Ah, yes. As I was saying, this desalination plant is like most others, drawing the seawater from a long tunnel that extends out under the sea for about three hundred metres. The tunnel mainly houses pipework and electronics but there is a service corridor and there are two airlocks at points in the main tunnel to allow inspection divers to move in and out without having to come back to shore again.’
‘I’m guessing your plan was to infiltrate through this service passageway, then take them by surprise?’ suggested Pace. Baker nodded. ‘What did Yucel tell you that changed your mind?’
‘ARC has employed very experienced mercenaries, from many countries. These soldiers have a wealth of knowledge about security. The service passage is monitored by cameras, motion detectors and heat sensors. Any unauthorised access of the airlocks triggers an alarm and the entire thing can be flooded within ten seconds.’
‘If we kept scuba gear on, it would not matter if they flooded the passage,’ said Hammond.
‘If we are detected, flooding is the least of our worries,’ Baker continued. ‘In such a confined space, we would be slaughtered.’
‘Nice to see Yucel had made a contribution to keeping us alive instead of killing people, for once,’ remarked Pace. Baker was well aware of what had happened at Scott Base and he let the barb go.
‘It would have been an ideal point of entry but we can’t take the chance, now we know the security arrangements.’
‘We think we know,’ corrected Pace. ‘Yucel has no reason to tell us the truth. He may be lying just so we make a frontal assault which, as we know, will give his buddies the best chance of fighting us off. What if the tunnel is not secure at all and he’s just hoping to cause chaos with our plans? Don’t forget, we’re not paying him. They are.’
‘James has a point,’ Hammond agreed. ‘What makes you so sure that he isn’t selling us a load of bull?’
‘I spoke with him at length. He gave me very specific details of the security arrangements in exchange for his freedom, after this is all over. Doyle has agreed to this.’
Though he preferred to be suspicious, at least that made sense to Pace. Yucel was looking at many years in a British prison for the part he had played in the taking of Scott Base. Getting himself off the hook by turning on his own side would be the sensible thing to do. As a mercenary, his loyalties were to himself and his bank manager. Also, Pace conceded, his boss had left him to drown in a frigid sea. Maybe Yucel was up for a little revenge.
‘You seemed to have no trouble escaping, James. Can their security really be that good?’ wondered Hammond.
‘I was lucky,’ admitted Pace evenly. ‘I could have been killed several times over. I would have been if there hadn’t been that little bit of air left trapped inside the survival suit. Their guys are no slouches.’
‘Neither are ours,’ reminded Baker. ‘Even going in hot, we will win the day, I promise you. I’d just like to limit our dead and wounded as much as I can.’
‘Suggestions?’ asked Hammond.
‘If we’re going in the front door, and they will be expecting something after sinking their boat, the only way to get it done is to attack at multiple points around the perimeter, simultaneously.’ Baker had already got a plan.
‘Why not just send a few missiles winging over from the ship and be done with it?’ Pace wondered. ‘Why risk any lives? If enough firepower goes in, resistance will be crushed and we can then just wander around the ruins until we find Scorpion.’
‘Because there is an innocent civilian being held captive in there and she needs to be rescued,’ explained Munambe, proceeding to give a brief resume of Deborah’s role in the affair so far. Of course, he left out the sordid details of how they first met.
‘I understand the desire to save her,’ agreed Pace, ‘but she is one life. We could lose fifty people trying to save her. That makes no sense.’
‘Not in numbers, I agree,’ said Munambe. ‘In human terms, it does make sense because we might not lose any of our men. It is worth the risk.’
‘Our orders are to take the facility and hold it until relieved by a science team that Doyle is currently putting together. He doesn’t want the place flattened, at least not yet. There might be clues in there that will help us find out what ARC plans to use Scorpion for, exactly.’ Hammond spoke smoothly. ‘He also wants us to get hold of Josephine Roche and bring her in.’
‘Besides,’ said Munambe. ‘That facility can provide fresh water to thousands of my people, if it is run correctly. Why destroy it?’
Pace conceded defeat and listened as Baker outlined the plan, which was very simple. It would be a midnight assault, at three different points of entry, by thirty-strong teams, leaving a smaller force to create an impressive diversion directly by the main entrance.
A detailed satellite photograph of the facility was laid out on the table and entry points were marked, circled, and dotted, with arrows hastily added to show the route that each team would take, together with their main objectives. The objectives, combined, would neutralise the security force and secure the facility to prevent anyone escaping, or trying to get in. There was nothing about Josephine, Fiona or Scorpion.
‘Before you ask, James, I know what you’re thinking. I will be taking the lead on finding the key ARC leaders.’ Pace opened his mouth but closed it again at Baker’s next words. ‘You and Max will assist me. Solomon will also come with us, as he needs to identify the Miles woman.’
‘I thought for a minute you might leave us out,’ laughed Hammond.
‘Not a chance. I’ve seen you both in a fight and I wouldn’t want anyone else in there with me.’ Pace felt a glow of pride begin was warm his chest, which turned into a chuckle as Baker suddenly snapped his fingers, as if remembering something he’d forgotten. ‘Oh, James. I had this sent out for you. I know you’re a great team when the chips are down.’ From beneath the table, he pulled a large holdall onto his lap. Rummaging inside, he lifted out the familiar shape of a Second World War Sten gun, complete with a handful of ammunition clips.
Pace took it immediately, feeling strangely grateful to be able to join the battle with his own weapon, which had proved to be so efficient in the steaming rain forest of the Amazon. ‘Thanks,’ he said sincerely.
‘What is it with you and old guns,’ asked Hammond. ‘A seventy year old machine gun and a century-old pistol.’
‘Maybe I’m getting old,’ Pace quipped.
‘Stay focused, gentlemen,’ interrupted Baker, ‘or you might find that you won’t get any older after tonight.’
Nodding, Pace and Hammond turned their attention back to the map until they were all completely familiar with every aspect of the plan. After a second cup of tea, Baker disappeared to prep the soldiers.
The afternoon was aging and they decided to try and get a few hours sleep in an assigned officer’s cabin. Hammond and Pace spent the time, in the end, talking and reminiscing about Race Amazon. Pace deliberately avoided calling Sarah, even though he was desperate to hear her voice. When asked about it, he simply smiled.
‘If anything happens to me tonight, she won’t need fresh memories of my voice to add to the pain. Tomorrow, I will ring her.’
While Pace finally got rid of his stinking, tattered survival suit into a bin, taking the chance for another hot shower, Hammond collected two black fatigue sets for them both, complete with webbing, boots and a belt holster. He dressed quickly and added a reliable Browning 9mm pistol to his holster before running over the working of the automatic rifle that had just been delive
red to the door by one the McEntire team. A modern development of a classic, the M16A4 sported a fitted red dot sight and a vertical handgrip below the barrel. Highly efficient and accurate, it would do nicely.
After his shower, Pace similarly donned his gear, slipping the heavy old Webley into his holster and slinging the Sten over his shoulder on its shoulder strap. Both sets of gear came with a boot sheath, complete with a wicked-looking paratrooper knife.
When they joined the other soldiers, up on deck, just after nine o’clock that night, Pace was dismayed to see a brilliant moon that lit up the ocean around them almost as brightly as daytime. Hammond felt the same way; they could really use some nice low cloud but it wasn’t to be.
A quick briefing and equipment check took place, with the four separate teams working together. A number of inflatable boats, with single outboard motors, had already been prepared and were tethered on the ship’s port side, on a dozen mooring lines, stretching down to the water like a half-finished spider web.
The boat ride was choppier than expected, with all the boats taking a forty minute ride, washing into the beach about four miles north of the facility, where everyone decamped and pulled the boats up high to the edge of the dunes. It had been decided to land in one spot and then head towards the facility in groups. One group; the diversionary team, headed down the beach, leaving the other teams to march inland for half a mile before starting a curving approach through the arid, rocky scrub that marked the edge of the desert.
They moved in silence, each person intent on the task ahead. As they approached the two mile mark, with the blazing lights of the building now in plain sight; pinpricks in the distance, the teams split up.
Two stayed together, moving closer at the half mile depth. They would then swing around the back of the facility and become the attacking force for both the southern perimeter and the easterly back fence. The final group, with which Pace and his colleagues were linked, skirted closer towards the beach again, heading on a gentle angle, aiming to reach their attack point using the ample cover of multiple dunes and craggy outcrops.
Yucel had been very helpful by letting Baker know that there were no defences beyond the perimeter fence. In such an empty environment, so far from civilisation, the main threats had been deemed to be the few local people, or nomads, perhaps trying to break in and steal equipment that they could sell.
The security people were good, especially those that worked directly with Fiona on the Scorpion project, he had explained, but security was focused on keeping people out. There were motion detectors bolted to the fence, all around the perimeter, that worked out to a distance of fifty metres. Coverage was total, so any attack would be spotted as they crossed into the beams. Cameras were mounted on high poles, well inside the fence, and had a commanding view all around. Some, but not all, were infrared.
There were a couple of guard towers to deal with but the main force was based inside, and would respond to any threat as it arose. Yucel also confirmed that the mercenary force they were about to face was heavily armed, including having access to grenades and mortars, although these were mainly brought in to fire tear gas rounds beyond the perimeter fence if there was ever a serious problem with the local people.
Yucel, for his part, had been assigned to the rear entry team. Pace hoped he was being genuine and would not suddenly prove to be a snake in the grass.
As the large main building drew closer, Pace and Hammond exchanged an encouraging look. Baker caught it out of the corner of his eye, smiling too.
‘Nearly time. You both ready?’
‘Definitely,’ said Pace. ‘If we can find Fiona, or Josephine, we’ll find those samples. I hope they’re still there and haven’t already been moved on.’
‘Nothing has moved in, or out, of that place for the past twenty-four hours, except the cruiser and that has only been patrolling along the coast. The flying boat has been moved away from the facility, however, and moored almost a mile out to sea just south of the pier.’ Baker sounded convincing. ‘We’ve had surveillance on the whole place since we picked you up, driving like a lunatic around the compound.’
What they did not realise was that Josephine’s plane had already left before the full surveillance kicked in. They had no idea that she was long gone.
‘Just glad you came to join me.’
‘It took a day to get the men together and make all the arrangements with the Namibian government,’ he explained. ‘We honestly thought we’d arrive far too late to help.’
‘Lucky for everyone, then, that I felt tired and decided to grab a night’s sleep before trying to make a run for it.’
Baker’s smile dissolved and he was suddenly very business-like again. They had reached a large dune, overlooking the perimeter fence. There were no Hollywood-style searchlights cutting a dance in the darkness. Technology had moved on and the infrared cameras and heat sensors would spot an intruder far more effectively than a large torch, scything the night haphazardly.
They were right on time; arriving a few minutes shy of midnight. They all wore radio headsets but were on radio silence until the shooting started. They had agreed to launch together at exactly midnight, synchronising watches in time-honoured fashion before disembarking the frigate. With the compound itself lit only by a couple of high-set external lamps, the approach to the more brightly lit buildings was shrouded in shadow and silence.
Baker whispered the order and all the soldiers in their team slipped on a special pair of night vision glasses. Specially developed by the McEntire Corporation, they were similar in thickness to a regular pair of sunglasses rather than the bulky enhancer units that the world’s military forces currently relied upon.
Instantly, the world changed from moonlit shadow to bright green dazzle, with Pace immediately being able to see every detail of the compound beyond the chain-link fence. He had been impressed by the technology the first time he had used a pair, months before, in the Amazon. Now, with a gun battle about to explode, the side that could see their enemy more clearly was likely to be the one that triumphed.
The last couple of minutes ticked away as the assault teams braced themselves for the task ahead, repeatedly running through instructions and objectives in their minds, probably for the hundredth time that day. Everyone was ready to go, watching Baker expectantly as his eyes never moved from his watch dial.
Suddenly, with a twitch of his hand and a single voice command, the order was given and the three assault teams moved in towards the fence, at the exact same moment that all hell let loose a few metres in front of the main gates.
32
The attack worked like a dream, with the entry point soldiers making short work of the chain link fence with large bolt cutters especially brought along to do the job. Barely ten seconds after alarms began to sound deep in the bowels of the main building, the wire had been folded back widely, in the three places around the perimeter, and the assault teams were already moving low and fast across the empty compound, heading for their objectives.
At the front, the dozen or so soldiers that comprised the diversion team let fly at the ground in front of the gate with grenades. Some tossed high explosive while others used smoke canisters, turning the peaceful night into a boiling cauldron within a heartbeat.
Stung awake, four gate guards came piling out of their sentry building, scrabbling with their automatic rifles. Seasoned troops, they recovered quickly and were soon firing out into the smoke beyond their position, spraying widely in the hope of hitting whoever was attacking them.
The cameras and heat sensors easily detected the other teams but, momentarily distracted by events at the front, security eyes were slow to respond. By the time the general alarm was being raised, the assault teams were already inside the main building and the two side buildings, bursting in and ruthlessly cutting down anyone that came into their sights.
Hearing the distant rattle of gunfire, over the louder scatter fire from behind the gates, the diversion team withdrew, t
hrowing more grenades and firing into the air before taking up positions behind a low sand rise flanking the main road. Trap baited, they waited.
Furious orders to pursue were given and the four guards were reinforced by another half a dozen, clambering into open-topped jeeps and roaring out of the main gates in pursuit, driving into the thinning fog of smoke just in time to be peppered viciously by raking fire from the diversion team.
It was carnage as the well-prepared mix of McEntire’s soldiers and Namibian Special forces fired accurate hammer bursts that exploded tyres and human heads with equal finality. Perhaps believing that the attack was being mounted by organised armed locals, the security force had made a grave misjudgement, as Baker had hoped they would. Lured out into a killing ground, not a single mercenary made it back to the gate alive and the road was soon littered with the silent dead and shrieking dying.
Inside, Pace and Hammond followed Baker across the compound, straight into the main building, following behind a pathfinder force who made sure any threat was neutralised with extreme prejudice beforehand.
Leaving the soldiers to tackle the underground car park and the lower levels, Baker led the way up the wide, red-carpeted staircase, shunning the elevator in case it was rigged.
Pace wasn’t quite sure how many floors he had travelled to get to the floor housing the conference room. The last time he’d been in there, he had just flattened Fiona and was fleeing for his life. There were no floor plans of the complex either, when Baker had tried to ferret some out with the Namibian Interior Ministry. They had overlooked to request one, they said. Bribe, Baker knew, but that could all be handled later.
Working blind, they started at the fourth floor, which turned out to be the level that contained Pace’s temporary prison cell.