by Gary Hickman
Scanning the cabin, Webb noticed the crew chief cock his head and then lean in between the pilot and copilot. They were discussing something and then the crew chief sat back down. Webb tapped him on the arm, “Hey, what’s going on?”
“They have a detected an approaching aircraft which isn’t answering communications. Nothing to worry about, though.” Webb leaned back in this jump seat. As they flew farther, the crew chief cocked his head and looked like he was listening to something and Webb thought he heard him say, “copy.” The crew chief seemed to intensify his search out the gunner’s port.
After a few moments, the crew chief pointed and spoke into his helmet’s mouthpiece. Webb looked to where he was pointing and could faintly make out an aircraft approaching in the distance. Webb connected into the Blackhawk’s comm. “Do you think this is civilians trying to escape?”
“Most likely. We hope that is what it is, but they won’t answer our calls. We can’t go firing on civilian aircraft just because we aren’t sure who they are,” the copilot replied.
“Yeah, but we are not in normal circumstances here and there could be anything piloting that aircraft,” Webb continued to watch the aircraft approach. The copilot just seemed to wave him off.
The crew chief came over the comms again, “Sir, the aircraft seems to have an intercept path to us.”
“Yeah, it sure looks like it, the co-pilot responded
“Should I engage?”
“Negative, we need to verify before we shoot citizens out of the sky.”
“Copy that.” By this time, they could make out it was a single winged plane, most likely a crop duster. The plane was moving about sporadically, like the pilot was drunk. The crew chief was getting antsy. “Sir, that plane is making a B-Line for us, coming right at our three o’clock.”
“I see them, but we are still trying to hail them. Following protocol,” the copilot added. The crew chief looked at Webb over his shoulder and shook his head. Webb continues to watch the drama unfold. The pilot adjusted their course, but plane also adjusted its course as well to continue its perceived intercept of their Blackhawk.
Neville gave Webb a worried look, “Sir, I am getting really nervous about this.”
“Understood, Sargent.” Webb unplugged from the Blackhawk’s comms. He tapped the crew chief’s shoulder, “The pilot and copilot, what are their ranks?”
As if he knew where Webb was going, he smiled, “Both are Warrant Officers, Sir.”
“That’s what I thought. They know flying. I know combat. You take direction from me from this point on. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” the crew chief said as he saluted with an enormous grin on his face.
“Charge that weapon, Specialist, and fire on my command.” Webb instructed. The crew chief did so.
Webb plugged back into the Blackhawk’s comms. “Is that aircraft still making a B-Line for us?”
“Affirmative sir,” said the Specialist.
“We don’t know that for sure,” said the copilot with a condescending tone.
“What? We wait until they are on top of us before we prepare?”
“Captain Webb, we cannot blow civilians out of the sky because of paranoia.”
“Paranoia? You haven’t seen what the fuck is going on down there. It’s a mother fucking blood bath. Paranoia is one thing, but being stupid is another.”
“Sir, the aircraft is about 200 yards and closing. Straight for us, I might add,” the Specialist remarked.
“Sight on that aircraft, Specialist, and wait for my signal. If that plane doesn’t change course, then we will remove it from the sky.”
“Captain, I don’t think this is wise…”
Webb cuts him off, “Last time I checked, I outrank everyone on this fucking aircraft, Goddamnit. With that being the case, I don’t give a shit what you think. You will take direction from me. Are there any questions?” They didn’t respond. “Out fucking standing! Specialist report.”
“150 yards and closing.”
“Any acknowledgment from them?”
“Negative,” the copilot responded.
“Ok, Specialist, send a couple warning shots across the bow. Let them know to back off and change course.” The Specialist raked a burst of rounds over the top of the aircraft, but the plane stayed on course. “Ok, this is getting too close for comfort and I am not willing to get Dr. Costa killed. Specialist, take it out.”
“Copy that.” The Specialist pulled the butterfly trigger and the six mini-gun barrels whirled. It started sending 5.56mm rounds toward the plane. The first group of rounds went too low and missed the target. “Sorry, Sir. I have never fired on an aircraft before, much less one while in the air myself.”
“Understood son, do your best. You have the most experience on that weapon.” Webb looked forward and could see the worry on Dr. Costa’s face and he gave her a confident nod. The Minigun spit out more rounds towards the plane and a few hit the left-wing. The plane shuddered a bit but regained control. “Specialist, take that fucking plane down now!” Webb barked.
“I’m trying, sir.”
Abarra slid the side door open and fired his M4 at the plane, “It’s getting friendly close!”
“Pilot, change course, but keep the mini-gun side toward the plane. It’s the only firepower we have.”
“Copy.” The pilot pulled the cyclic stick up, and the Blackhawk ascended two hundred feet. The plane tracked the movement and kept its collision course.
“Fuck gentlemen, let’s splash that bastard already!” Webb roared. The plane was approaching quickly. Seventy-five yards, fifty-yards. As the Minigun sprayed the plane across both wings, and a few rounds hit the propeller and engine. The plane faltered, but not enough to prevent a collision, so the pilots shifted the helicopter sideways, but it was too late.
“Shiiiit!” the Specialist yelled. He and Abarra continued to fire at the plane. The Minigun chattering and the barrels were getting red. Twenty-five yards and then boom! Rounds hit the engine, and the plane exploded.
All at once, multiple things happened. The explosion sent shrapnel into the side of the Blackhawk and through the open door, while everyone did their best to protect themselves. Kennedy and Bolin both covered Dr. Costa to protect her. Abarra tried to sliding the door shut, and Webb turned his back, hoping his plate carrier would take the damage. The explosion also sent a shock wave that ravaged the side of the Blackhawk and sent it rocking.
Alarms wailed from the cockpit, and the helicopter went into a spin. The pilots fought to gain control of the aircraft. The doctor was screaming; the team was yelling, and the pilots were cussing. As the helicopter continued to spin, the pilots struggled to fight the cyclic stick while it jumped around in their grip like a crazy rooster.
Webb grabbed the handhold straps to steady himself and saw Bolin slump over. He reached to right the man up and noticed the blood on his back. He looked harder and noticed Bolin had a piece of shrapnel sticking a few inches out of his back. Webb put his fingers on his neck and did not feel a pulse.
The alarms continue to beep incessantly, making it hard to hear anyone. Everyone was holding on for dear life while the pilots cursed the helicopter. The bird tipped to one side, and then the spin slowed. They were gradually losing altitude, but it seemed like the Blackhawk was straightening out.
Approximately 60 seconds later, they were at a hover, and the alarms had silenced. All onboard looked at each other with no one saying a word. Eyes were as big as manhole covers, and Abarra was whispering a prayer in Spanish. Webb snapped out of his stupor to assess the situation.
“Is everyone ok?” It was when Dr. Costa realized Bolin was dead. Kenne
dy did as well and stared at the floor as Dr. Costa cried.
Webb put a hand on Kennedy’s shoulder, “Sorry, Kennedy. He was an honorable man.”
“Yeah, he was. This job was all he knew, all he wanted. No wife, no kids, just this.”
“Sorry, man,” Abarra added.
“Thanks.”
The pilots took a breath and regained their composure, then continued their flight to Dearborn. Everyone was silent, mostly.
After a while, Webb spoke through the bird’s comms. “Any contact with CDC yet?”
The copilot shook his head, “Negative.”
“What about Command? Any of our friends answering there?”
“Negative on that, Sir. The radio has been dead silent since we rolled out on this mission. Except for your squad comms, we haven’t heard a peep out of anyone: Command, the airport, not even other aircraft. It’s as if the entire world has gone quiet.”
Webb turned to Abarra and pointed toward the pilots, “No comms, as if the world has gone. No people, no radios, nothing.”
“That can’t be good.”
“Yeah, well, regardless, we have a mission to complete.” Webb turns to the doctor. “We haven’t had communications with anyone, including the CDC in Dearborn. Have you had contact with them at all recently?”
She looked around, worried. “Our last communication with them was two days ago. With what has gone on recently, that might as well be two months, much less two days.”
“Copy that.” Webb sat back against the Blackhawk’s cabin panel. He shut his eyes for a second to run through scenarios in his head. He tried to plan for everything, thinking about what is happening next and how to handle it.
“Captain?” The copilot came over Webb’s comms. “We are about ten miles out.”
“Copy that.” Webb pushed his squad comms, “Ok, boys. We are about ten miles out. Neville and Shin, we will drop you off on the roof of the insurance building. A quick assessment of the surrounding area, then concentrate on covering our asset into the CDC building.” Both acknowledged. “We go in, get whatever the doctor needs, and roll out. Kennedy and Abarra will escort Dr. Costa to our exfil point two blocks away. I will stay back and help cover Overlord’s six while we make our way to the exfil point. Questions?”
The doctor spoke up, “I might need some time in that CDC lab, since I can’t take everything I need from there. Some things might have to be completed there.”
“Doctor, if everything is intact then you may have all the time you want. Though, we do not understand what the situation on the ground is. If it is anything like what we’ve seen already that CDC facility could be completely compromised.”
“Captain, I need those samples, and any other information or the world may not stop this.”
“We will do what we can, Dr. Costa, you have my word.”
“Captain, approaching objective. We have a visual….” The copilot broke off in mid-sentence.
“Say again. I didn’t copy it.” The team opens the side doors and looks out. Webb articulates what everyone else is thinking. “Dear God, what the hell?”
The chopper hovered over the remains of the CDC building. The entire block looked like something out of a war-torn France during WWII. Smoke was rolling out of storefronts, broken windows, burned-out cars, and dead bodies littered the streets.
Neville turned to Webb, “Do you think there is anything left in that lab worth saving, Sir? Just say the word, and we will deploy.”
Webb grabbed Dr. Costa’s arm, “Doctor, do you believe there is anything left in there you can use, anything that isn’t compromised?” Dr. Costa was staring down at the destruction. “Doctor, doctor!”
Dr. Costa shook her head and looked back at Webb, “Yes, sorry. We need to see what we can salvage out of there. Anything could help us identify this virus and possibly help to find an antidote.”
“Ok, you heard the lady, we need to see what we can pull out of there. Neville and Shin deploy and take your position.”
Neville and Shin fast roped onto the insurance building’s roof, then the chopper rose higher and moved off the building roof. With Neville using his rifle scope and Shin his range scope, they surveyed the area for movement, especially near the facility the breach team was getting ready to deploy to.
Neville scoped the situation out, “What you got, Shin?” “I do not see any movement in several surrounding blocks.”
“I do not as well.”
“Spider, this is Voodoo, do you copy?”
“Voodoo, this is Spider, go ahead.”
“We do not see any movement in the surrounding blocks. All is quiet. No infected, but no civilians either.”
“Copy that Voodoo. Watch our six. We are getting ready to deploy.”
“Copy, we are on point.” The rest of the team, including the doctor and Kennedy, exited the bird on the CDC roof. The bird took off as to not draw any unwanted attention as they found the roof access door and entered the building.
CHAPTER 12
Shaw and Priest low crawled, along with Doug, to the edge of the terminal building. They were all in the prone position and looked out across the flight line where planes were towed in for maintenance. They also used the area as a hub for some private jet charters helicopters, including the state police or Life Flight, and a few network news choppers. There were two private jets parked there with a Boeing 727 that looked like they towed it in for repair. They parked the 727 to the left and parallel to the terminal building. The two private jets were each parked in front of a maintenance hangar.
Doug’s news chopper was two hundred yards away to the right of the terminal building. It was sitting by itself out in the open, which presented the team with a Catch 22 scenario. On one side, it was in the open, allowing the team to see anything coming, which presented no change for an ambush. On the other side, it was in the open, so anything remotely within view of the helicopter would see them making a run for it. Not an ambush situation, but stealth was out the window, and they risked being overrun.
Priest moved back from the edge and turned on his back to look at the sky. “Damn, that will be risky no matter what. Doug, how long does it take to get that bird prepped enough to take off?”
“Well, forgoing all the pre-flight checks, about 5-6 minutes to start the engines, 1-2 minutes to achieve lift RPM. So anywhere from 7 to 10 minutes.”
“Shit! That’s too much time. We will need a distraction to draw the infected away so they don’t hear the chopper spinning up or see anyone running to it.”
“I could go to one side of the building and start shooting and bring them over.” Shaw said.
“Yeah, I am just worried that once they hear the engines fire up, it will drown out all other sounds, and they’ll swarm the chopper.”
“That’s if there are any of those things out there.” Doug chimed in
“Oh, they’re out there. Bet your ass on that.” Priest flipped over and crawled back to look over the ledge. He was thinking about what he could use as a distraction as he scanned the area. He stopped on an item sitting about 200 yards from their location. In a small ditch to the east of the terminal building sat a Dodge Challenger. Priest pointed it out to Doug and Shaw. “Dude, how about the car?” Priest said in a subdued tone as he thought about it.
Shaw piped up, “Well, if we assume the keys are in it and it’s not stuck, yeah, you could use it to draw the horde away.”
Priest chuckled, “Wonder if it’s a Hell Cat, that sure would be nice. Never could afford one of those. I think it’s worth the risk to find out if it is operational.”
“Well, knowing how stubborn you are, I guess the
re is no chance of talking you out of it. I guess I will just have to cover your crazy ass.”
“Ok, Mr. Shaw, let’s make it happen.”
They found an awning for one of the businesses that Priest could jump down onto. The issue was that it was too high to grab from the ground, so once you were down, you were down. Priest jumped to the awning and stopped to listen for any infected. He didn’t hear any but it didn’t make him feel any better, because he knew they were out there somewhere. He was sure he would probably find out soon enough.
Priest took a deep breath, jumped to the ground with a grunt and took off as fast as his legs would carry him. He was older than anyone else on the team, but he was pretty fast for an old fart.
As soon as he cleared the corner of the terminal building, he heard multiple screams and shouts. The hair on his arm stood on end with a chill running through him. Was that adrenaline, or was that fear? As he glanced back, he saw more infected coming at him from some buildings to his left-front. “Get there, please let me get there, he swore to himself.” The screams from behind were getting louder, as they were gaining on him.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he yelled. Just then he heard… chunk…. chunk… chunk… chunk! The sound of Shaw’s M48 cutting through the infected was recognizable.
The infected from the front were still closing in. Priest could raise his rifle and take some of these fuckers out, but that would slow him down, and then the infected might catch up. He just had to keep chugging and make it to the car. The infected were closing the gap and were now only 100 yards from him.
“Go old man, move your fucking ass!” Priest yelled at himself. Giving him one last burst of courage or maybe fear, but whichever it was it allowed him to reach the car. He jumped in, shut and locked the doors, and took a breath. Priest reached down with eyes closed and holy shit, the keys were in it. He turned the key, and the car started and idled with a harmonious rumble.