by Gary Hickman
The team went home with Doc twice, and his momma about killed everyone. She kept making so much food even Shaw almost fell into a coma with the amount she was shoving at them. Momma Mancini was a kind woman and made it a point to hug every one of the team before they left her house. She also graced everyone before they left by placing her hands on both sides of their face and reciting a prayer for them.
Priest looked around, and Shaw notice he was searching for someone, “Looking for Webb?” Priest nodded. “They called him up to the TOC at HQ to get our next briefing. We were going to wake you up, but they said brass only.”
“Well, I appreciate the sleep.”
“You have a second, Sarge?” Shaw asked reservedly.
“Sure, Shaw, what’s up?” “You know me, and I’m not one to complain. That job we did in Turkey was completely fucked up. That didn’t feel right at any level.”
“Yeah, I feel the same way. During my debrief, I couldn’t help thinking there was something Command knew, but weren’t telling us.”
“I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass.”
“You and me both.”
After an hour, Webb appeared back in the barracks. His face was pensive, and he looked like he had been arguing. The veins in his temples and neck hadn’t completely gone down to normal.
Abarra addressed him, “Marcus, everything all right?”
“Fuck no, everything ain’t all right. It appears the shitty intel we received on our last mission wasn’t the last pile of shit we will receive. It seems we were a day late and a dollar short on infiltrating the research facility.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Neville said with his Cajun accent.
Webb continued, “It turns out that ISIS hit the facility just a day before we had arrived and stole the virus. From the wonderful intel we have, it appears ISIS has taken the virus to their cell in Dearborn, Michigan.”
“What? In the good old USA? Fucking bastards. Don’t bring that shit over here!” Doc was livid.
“Man, this shit just got real-real,” Priest muttered.
“Exactly. So, they could deploy us to Dearborn to find the cell, eliminate it and confiscate the virus.” Webb was looking more and more worried as he spoke.
Abarra squinted, “So this means we are to engage US citizens? Posse Comitatus?”
Webb shook his head, “I hope not, and we need to avoid that as much as possible. The ISIS personnel involved are here on college Visa’s studying engineering.”
“So, when do we roll out,” Miles asked.
“Ok, slow your roll. Coordination is being conducted with local authorities and the FBI. They are handling the situation. We are on standby, just in case. The only reason they are even considering us is that we have already engaged people who were affected. So, we are in an advisory capacity at this moment. So, get some chow, sleep, shower, etc. while you have the chance. Just be available if they need us, Hua?”
“Hua.”
CHAPTER 4
23:10 Fort Campbell, KY
The young corporal assigned to Fort Campbell drove through the mostly empty streets with trepidation but with purpose. They gave him orders and the look on his lieutenant’s face gave him a foreboding feeling. He knew this wasn’t just a dog and pony show and was something severe. He had never seen it that busy in the HQ building before.
The corporal rolled up to the barracks the team was staying in and slammed on the brakes. He jumped out of the SUV and busted through the barrack doors. Halfway through the door, they met the corporal with clicks, clacks, and eight barrels pointed straight at him.
“Oh, shit!” The corporal uttered as a little dribble of piss ran down his leg. It was painfully clear that the corporal had never dealt with a special ops unit before.
Shaw was the closest to him. “Holy dog shit, son. You almost got turned into a piece of swiss cheese as many rounds as you could have gotten nailed with…. WHOO-hoo.”
“Uh-uh,” The corporal stammered.
“Out with it, son,” Shaw poked.
“Uh, Captain Webb… Colonel Madison, has requested your presence, along with MSG Priest and SSG Abarra immediately. Things seem to have unraveled quickly.”
The three of them looked at one another with trepidation. “Ok, let’s go then.” Webb, Priest, and Abarra followed the corporal out the door.
Shaw hollered, “Who the hell will wipe this piss up off the floor?” They met his question with silence. “Myles, you’re up, son,” Shaw said as he laid back down.
“Shit,” Myles murmured under his breath. “Being the lowest rank sucks.”
“Yep, I get it. It sucks. Goodnight, John Boy.” Shaw responded as he laid down to fall back to sleep.
The three Light Reapers made it to the War Room within minutes. Colonel Madison was sitting at the head of the conference table, rubbing his temples. He looked haggard with dark circles under his eyes, like he had been up for days. Colonel Madison’s XO, Major Harrell, motioned them in and left to get the coffee for the meeting. Madison looked up and motioned for the three to have a seat. He took a couple of deep breaths and then sighed.
“Boys, we are in a world of shit, if you haven’t figured that out by now. Command always seems to be a step behind, and we are getting ready to take a bite of a big ass, shit sandwich. So here it is in a nutshell. ISIS made it to Dearborn, Michigan, with the virus. Yes, they made it through security and customs with the virus. Loyalists, radicals or paid off workers who probably gained some financial independence with some 1.5 billion in cash Obama sent to Iran, take your pick. Here is the raw deal on that. While relieving those terrorists of the virus, they damaged the container. Because they were transporting the virus in a damaged container, it caused the virus to spread among the people they came in contact with during their travel. Yes, it is exactly what you are thinking, that shit has now spread halfway across the fucking planet. With the virus being as extremely contagious as it is, who knows how many people were exposed to it. We got a fucking pandemic here.”
“How bad is it, sir?” Webb inquired.
“Bring up the news on the primary screen, Harrell.” Harrell typed a few characters on his keyboard. The images came up on the screen but seemed like something from a bad movie, instead.
The two news anchors, who probably looked perfect and plastic on a normal day, were far from that now. The man and woman looked visibly rattled and read their prompts with a robot-like mechanical demeanor. They were in shock from the scenes playing in a loop on the screen behind them. Because of the obvious gore, they blurred most of the scenes out. Although by the look of the anchors, it was apparent they had seen the full and unhindered video.
The scenes were of various cities and the complete chaos that was ensuing. People were running after other people; their clothes and faces covered with blood. Those who were displaying the signs of being infected were ripping into others who were not. The EMT’s that were looking to help the injured were being attacked along with the police who were trying to maintain order. The police were getting off some shots into the people who were attacking, but without the headshots, they weren’t staying down. The cameras showing the carnage had lost their operators long ago and were lying on the ground showing this bizarre dance from a skewed angle. The ending scene of the camera in Detroit was a young girl walking toward the camera, tilting her head from side to side, click-clicking. The screen then switched to nothing but static. The female anchor burst into tears and left the news desk.
Madison waved his hand, and Harrell ended the feed. Webb, Priest, and Abarra just sat there in silence. All three had seen plenty of combat, probably more than their fair share. They had killed and witnessed killing. They h
ad seen death, destruction, mutilation, and the like. The usual “killing field” was some far-off land, and it didn’t compare to seeing the same thing happening in your city. It gave it an entirely new perspective, seeing the carnage in your own country, in your own city, in your own backyard.
Madison spoke solemnly, “This is what we are up against, and there are many issues in addressing this situation. We are trying to determine just how many cities the virus has affected. Not to mention, how are we to eliminate the infected without taking an equal amount of collateral damage? We could end up with zero value out of these cities. Infected and non-infected, all dead because we may not discern between the two in time. Command is contemplating deploying troops, National Guard, Reserves, and even Active Duty, to get a handle back on the major cities. Chicago, DC, Atlanta, and LA are just some of those mentioned. General Steward from Central Command is asking that your team deploy to ground zero in Dearborn to see if you can assess the spread, speed, and completeness of the virus take over.”
“And you said what?” Priest pried.
“I said no, but Stewart, who outranks me, said yes. Not only did he say your team will deploy, but you are also taking a CDC Ph.D. with you.”
“Ah, hell no,” Abarra laughed.
“Ah, hell, yes,” Madison retorted. “Last time I checked, none of you had any experience in bio-genetics, viruses, microbiology, or any other sciences that require an intellectual brain.”
“Well, that was uncalled for. That hurt my feelings.” Priest feigned being hurt at the statement.
“Maybe one of your men could rub something on your raw asshole,” Madison continued. “This is what will happen. You will fly over, assess the situation, and get Dr. Costa on the ground for samples, a live specimen, whatever the doctor needs.”
“Damn, babysitting duty,” Abarra chimed in. “This will be dangerous enough without having to lug around a civilian.”
Madison looked at the team. “Are there any questions?”
“It sucks, but it’s pretty cut and dry,” Priest said.
Madison nodded. “Go get some sleep; your team rolls out at 0500. Dismissed.”
There wasn’t much to discuss after that. All three walked back to the barracks without saying a word. Webb and Priest briefed the rest of the team on the mission. After the grumbles, bitching, and whining, the team consented to the task and finally settled down to sleep.
CHAPTER 5
0500 Fort Campbell, KY
The team walked out on the flight line to a waiting Blackhawk already spinning up. The morning was brisk, and the sun had not completely come up over the horizon yet. The sky was a splash of purples and pinks, and Neville stopped to admire the scene. ”This is the same picture I see when I look out from my porch, back home on the bayou.”
“Ah, Buddha smiles upon us,” Shin reflected.
“The dawn is nice, but make sure Buddha will cover our ass,” joked Shaw.
Abarra looked over at Myles, “You sure you’re up for this?”
“Don’t have many choices now, do I?”
“Yeah, I guess not.”
“I’m good to go, Sarge.” Abarra nodded and left it at that.
The team loaded in the chopper and lifted off the tarmac. For Op Sec purposes, Webb briefed the rest of the team on the Blackhawk. They would fly to Indianapolis to refuel, pick up the doctor, and then on to Dearborn/Detroit area. The CDC building is in the northwest region of Dearborn. There had been prior communications with the research team there. The team was to take Dr. Costa there to coordinate with the scientists who had obtained blood samples and were in the process of analyzing the infected blood’s properties.
To the southeast of the CDC is the Nationwide Insurance building, which has a clear view of most of the city. We will drop Neville and Shin off on the top of this building to provide support for the rest of the team who will deliver Dr. Costa to the CDC facility. Exfil will be the top of a parking garage three blocks Northeast of the CDC building.
After the Team received their briefing on the mission details, they settled back for the flight to Indianapolis International Airport.
Sitting next to Priest, Shaw turned his head toward him. “Sarge, none of this gives me a warm and fuzzy.”
“You know something I don’t know?”
“No, just a gut feeling that the shit is getting ready to hit the fan.”
“Well, to be honest with you, I have a bad feeling about the whole thing. Just keep your head on a swivel and let your training guide your steps.”
“Copy that.”
Captain Webb was checking his gear when the copilot came over his comm. “We are 15 mics out of Indy Airport. We are trying to hail the airport for clearance but have not raised them yet.”
“Is that normal?” Webb asked.
“No, sir.”
“Can you raise Fort Campbell’s command? Colonel Madison?”
“Negative. We tried that, and still nothing.”
Webb switched to squad comms, “Ok, ladies, we have an issue. The bird cannot establish comms with the airport or with HQ, and that means we are not sure what is going on at the airport or what conditions we are jumping in the middle of. We are prepared no matter what the situation!” The team all leaned forward and bumped fists.
Minutes later, “Sir, we are coming into the airport, but still no communication.”
“Copy that.” Webb eyed the team, “Drop your cocks and grab your socks. Here we go.”
CHAPTER 6
As the airport came into sight, it looked like a war-torn area of Syria or Libya instead of the Indianapolis Airport. Multiple planes were sitting, wrecked into each other, and on fire. Bodies were lying all over the ground, and blood was everywhere. “Jesus Christ,” the crew chief mumbled, looking out on the destruction.
“What the fuck happened?” Doc asked. He was leaning out of the side door, wide-eyed and in disbelief.
“Sum bitch. Looks like Turkey all over again,” Shaw chimed in.
Priest looked at Webb, “Could the virus have spread this quickly?”
“Dunno. Maybe this is why we can’t raise anyone on the comms?” Webb broke off as they heard a screeching yell. It was loud enough to be heard over the rotors.
“There,” Shin pointed at a woman on top of one of the maintenance buildings running toward the landing chopper. The woman continued to run towards them, her clothes and mouth smeared with blood. She jumped with her arms outstretched toward them, still screaming. Her jump came up short of the chopper, and she plummeted three stories to the concrete below. Hitting face first, her head exploded upon impact with the concrete. The momentum drove her body over the back of her head and snapping her neck. The woman lay there in an awkward position with her body folded in half until her spine broke in two.
“Holeee, Mother Mary, and Joseph. Do you see that shit? Her neck folded in half like a taco. Her body just flipped over her head like some Exorcist bullshit.”
“Dude, we saw it happen. We’re sitting right here,” Myles said, trying to keep his breakfast down.
While Webb communicated with the pilot about contacting HQ, Priest barked out orders to the team. “Everyone out, pull security, and we will regroup on the ground.” The bird set down, and the team poured out, setting up at tactical intervals to provide 360-degree support. The chopper took off, and the team struggled to hear after the whine of the rotors faded away. It didn’t take but a second or two for the team to hear screaming again. They called contact acknowledgments out.
“Contact at 9 o’clock.”
“Contact on our 6.”
“Contact at 2 o’clock.”
“Contact at 4 o’clock.”
Myles shouted, “Do we engage these civilians?”
“Do they look like regular civilians?” Webb growled. “Engage the fucks.”
There was an immediate cacophony of small arms fire as the team fired in several directions. The smell of cordite, sweat, and body odor took on a life of its own. The entire team felt the sounds and concussion of the minor battle. Shaw was relentless on his M48 as he was mowing down legs, torsos, and faces.
Three men wearing maintenance overalls came charging at the team from around a full baggage cart. There was hate on their faces, and rage reddened their eyes. The inhumane scream coming out of their mouth made the hair on the back of their necks stand up.
Shaw let loose with a couple of three-round bursts; the first took out the pelvis of the black guy in front. It cut him in half and separated his torso from his legs. The momentum kept the upper half of his body moving forward. Intestines were flapping after his torso like flags whipping in the wind. His body rolled head over torso across the concrete. The man’s intestines were wrapping around as he flipped. When he finally stopped, they wrapped him up like a present.
Priest chuckled, “Don’t open until Christmas!” Shaw cackled at that.
Priest’s weapon took out the worker on the right. One round ripped through his throat, taking out most of it. Without enough to hold the head up, the infected looked like a bobblehead as it flapped around on just the spine. His second-round entered through the infected left cheek and removed most of the back of his skull when exiting.
Shaw made quick work of the third infected as he raked the burst across the infected face at eye level. He cut the top of the infected head clean off, and it hit the deck like a bag of wet cement. Brain matter and blood shot out of his mutilated head and across the tarmac when he hit.