“So do I, so do I,” said Mitchell under his breath.
Karras was the first man out of the helicopter that landed at the front of the hotel. A German guard ran outside to see what was going on. When he spotted Karras running towards him, he went for his weapon, only to die with a hole blasted in his chest. Karras moved past the body and dashed into the lobby. Inside, a couple of guards rushed to see what happening. Karras dropped to one knee and shot both men before they could raise their weapons.
He turned to a short, bull-necked man behind him. “Leave some men here to secure the bottom floor. I want you to find and disable their alarm and surveillance systems.”
“Consider it done,” said the short man brashly.
Karras changed the magazine in his Uzi. He could hear firing coming from above him as the men dropped by helicopter fought their way down. He had been told that there would not be more than a dozen German guards at the hotel. As they had already killed some, he doubted there were many left.
“Karras, the back of the hotel is ours,” said a man with long, black curly hair he as he strode towards Karras.
“Opposition?” asked Karras.
“Two men. Both are dead.”
Karras smiled. “Excellent news. Leave one behind to guard the back door. Take the remainder of your men with you and head below. The treasure is undoubtedly locked up somewhere beneath the hotel.”
“Right,” replied the mercenary. He whistled to his team and pointed to the elevator. His men ran to him.
Karras glanced at his watch. There were well ahead of schedule. He waited until the elevator left before waving a couple of men over to him. They would go down next. Anticipation built up inside him. He was about to take possession of tens of billions of dollars of gold and treasure. A thought crossed his mind. Perhaps he would help himself to a few of the smaller items, to help him during his long retirement. The door to the elevator opened, and Karras and his men stepped inside. He pressed the button for the basement.
The man Karras had left in charge in the lobby was about to dig out his cigarettes when he heard the sound of a machine gun firing off a long, sustained burst. He ducked down and looked up at the roof. He was certain that the fire had come from the floor above him. Seconds later, another burst tore through the air. It has to be the Germans; all of our weapons have silencers on them.
A panel on the wall by the fireplace slid open.
The bull-necked man stared in disbelief as a robot moved out from the wall. It stood less than a meter high and was on a pair of thick, rubber tracks. What caught the man’s eye was the fact that it had a light machine gun mounted in between a couple of antennae. A camera swung over and fixed its glassy eye on him. His blood instantly froze, and he turned to run.
The robot opened fire, cutting the mercenary down in his tracks. With cold efficiency, it began to drive through the lobby, killing everyone in its wake.
51
“What can you see?” Yuri asked Jackson.
“Something’s got them all worked up,” he replied, peering through the keyhole of the door. “They’re running around out there like their hair’s on fire.”
“You don’t think Ryan has come back with the police, do you?”
“Beats me. All I know is this is our chance to escape.” Jackson stood up and gingerly moved away from the door. Like Yuri, he had been beaten during his interrogation; however, he had been better able to weather Beck’s sadistic blows. His body ached all over, but he was still on his feet and wanted the chance to get his hands on the Nazi.
“What do you want to do?”
“As soon as we hear gunfire, I’m going to kick this door open. We’ll take our chances out in the cavern. I’d rather die on my feet out there then wait for someone to finish us off.”
“Da,” replied Yuri. His bruises had turned black and the swelling had begun to go down.
Jackson knew his friend would not be able to run very fast. He did not care. He intended to grab the first guard he found and take his weapon from him. After that, he was going to take as many people down with him as he could.
The entrance to the hotel loomed nearer. The tension in the cable car was palpable.
Mitchell wished he had an M-4 like the commandos had, instead of a pistol. However, he knew that sadly enough, before too long, there would be a plethora of weapons just lying around for him to pick and choose from.
The tram slowed and then came to a smooth halt. A couple of O’Higgins’ men flung the doors open, jumped out and ran to the front entrance of the hotel. Mitchell waited for the rest to get out. He followed close behind.
The cable car automatically pulled away and began its trip down below to pick up the next group of soldiers.
Mitchell saw a dead German guard laying facedown in the snow. A crimson pool of blood had trickled out from underneath him. He bent down and scooped up the dead man’s submachine gun.
O’Higgins pointed at the first two men by the entrance to the hotel. They silently moved over to the front doors and pulled them open. O’Higgins with the rest of his men dashed inside with their weapons at the ready. Mitchell ran with them.
Inside the lobby, O’Higgins’ men spread out to secure the space, surprised by the scene of death and devastation that met them. The bodies of German and Greek mercenaries lay everywhere. The smell of cordite hung heavy in the air.
“What the hell happened here?” said O’Higgins. “They couldn’t have just wiped each other out.”
Mitchell stepped over a pile of empty cartridges. “I don’t think they did.”
“Sir, you should see this,” said a soldier, just as the robot drove back into the lobby.
“Take cover!” yelled Mitchell. He grabbed O’Higgins by the shoulders and pulled him with him as he dove over the check-in counter.
The automaton opened up. Three of the commandos instantly died under the withering fire. The remainder ran for cover.
“What the hell is that?” O’Higgins asked.
“It’s an automated killing machine,” said Mitchell. “I met its big brother downstairs in the cavern.”
Another soldier died when he tried to fire on the robot. His rounds bounced ineffectively off the thick armor protecting its vital components.
O’Higgins popped up and fired off a three-round burst at the killing machine. For his troubles, the robot swung its weapon over and returned fire. Bullets chewed up the wooden counter showering the men hiding behind it. O’Higgins swore. He looked over at Mitchell. “If you have any ideas on how to kill that thing, I’d love to hear them.”
“Give me a hand grenade and when I tell you to, I want you to engage it while I try to move behind it.”
O’Higgins handed Mitchell one of his fragmentation grenades.
“On three,” said Mitchell. Together they counted down. O’Higgins jumped up and fired at the root while Mitchell ran for the front doors. The robot detected the movement and turned to fire on Mitchell, but it was a fraction of a second too slow. Bullets flew past Mitchell’s head as he rammed into the doors with his shoulder. Outside, he slipped on the ice and tumbled to the ground. He cursed his luck and rolled over. Mitchell could see the cable car making its way up. He got back up onto his feet and sprinted to the back of the hotel. It was a race. He had to disable the robot before the rest of the commandos arrived and walked into the charnel house that had once been the lobby.
Mitchell ran as fast as he could around the side of the hotel. Up ahead, he could see the back entrance. Without stopping, he grabbed hold of the door and pulled it open. Mitchell ran inside the old storeroom and smashed headlong into the Greek mercenary who had been left behind to guard the way out. Both men were equally surprised to find themselves looking into the face of another man.
Mitchell reacted first. Like a cobra, he shot his head forward, toward the mercenary’s nose, shattering it. The man cried in agony and reached up for his broken nose. A second later, Mitchell swept the man’s feet out from underneath him
. The injured man tumbled to the hard floor. With his gun in his hand, Mitchell dropped to one knee and slammed the butt of his weapon as hard as he could into the side of the Greek’s head, knocking him out cold.
Gunfire reverberated down the long corridor.
Mitchell ran to the back of the room and quickly made his way towards the lobby. Within seconds, he could see the robot firing at the check-in counter. Mitchell slung his submachine gun over his shoulder and took hold of his grenade. He pulled the safety pin as he edged forward. When he was as close as he dared be, Mitchell sent the grenade rolling like a bowling ball towards the robot. He instantly dropped to the ground. The seconds seemed to crawl by as the grenade closed in on the automation. Mitchell gritted his teeth when he saw the robot begin to pivot in place.
It had detected someone moving around behind it.
He reached for his weapon. A split-second later, the robot began to move its machine gun around to fire on Mitchell. It never got a shot off. The grenade rolled right underneath of the robot. With a deafening explosion, it sent the killer flying over on its side, with all of its electrical components destroyed.
Mitchell got up onto his feet, amazed that his plan had worked and that he was still alive. He jogged over to the smoking wreckage.
O’Higgins met him. “Thank you, Mister Mitchell, you saved our lives.”
“I told you, call me Ryan.”
The sergeant walked into the lobby with the other half of the commandos.
Before O’Higgins could give an order, Mitchell said, “Lieutenant if you take the elevator you and your men will be walking into another ambush. There’s a bigger one of these waiting in the cavern.”
O’Higgins looked down at the trashed robot and shook his head. “What do you suggest we do?”
“Follow me,” replied Mitchell. “There’s another way down. Hopefully, we can catch them all off guard.” With that, he turned and ran back the way he came. The only thought in his mind was on saving his friends, and exacting revenge on the men who had caused them so much pain. Beck and August were going to pay.
52
Karras stepped out of the elevator into a maelstrom of gunfire. He nearly tripped over the dead body of one of his men. He could see some of his men using a row of wooden crates for cover. They were trading fire with some German guards who were behind a couple of forklifts on the other side of the cavern.
He dashed over to the curly-haired man he had sent to secure the treasure. “What happened?” asked Karras.
“There were more of them down here than we thought,” replied the man. “They were waiting for us and opened up the instant we stepped from the elevator.”
Karras looked over the top of a crate and saw that they still had the advantage in numbers. Once the rest of his men joined him, it would not take long to finish off the few Germans still fighting back. He dug out his radio from a pocket and keyed the mic. “Alexandros, hurry up and get your men down here.”
There was no reply.
Karras repeated his message.
As before, there was only silence on the other end.
Karras swore; he knew something was wrong. However, there was nothing he could do for the men he had left behind. He had to deal with the Germans guarding the gold before he could do anything else. He tapped the curly-haired man on the shoulder. “We’re going to have to take them out with the men we have down here. I want you to lay down cover fire while I take two men and outflank them.”
The man nodded his head and barked out the orders.
Karras waited until the Germans were under heavy fire before leading his two men into the maze of boxes that filled the center of the cavern.
With a snarl on his lips, Beck brought up his submachine gun and fired off a long burst at the Greeks hiding behind some wooden crates. He and August had only just made it to the forklifts when the mercenaries opened up on them.
“Where is the robot?” August asked Beck. He was laying on the ground with his hands over his head.
“Some damned fool decided it was a good time to do maintenance on the bloody thing,” replied Beck angrily. “It’ll be up and running in a couple of minutes.”
“It wants to be, or we’ll never make it out of here alive.”
Beck ignored his master comments. He knew the odds were stacked against them. Still, he wasn’t going to give in, not to a bunch of Greek mercenaries.
“Herr Beck, we have it up and running,” called out a guard, holding a laptop computer in his hands.
Beck’s flagging spirits soared. “Good, launch it towards those Greek SOBs and send them all to hell.”
With its twin machine guns, the robotic killer sped past Beck. A second later, it opened up with both guns, sending a torrent of lead into the Greek position.
“Time to go,” said Jackson as he hauled back with his right leg and shot his foot into the door, shattering it off its hinges. He was about to step outside and make a run for it when he spotted the robot speeding towards a group of men huddled behind some wooden boxes.
“Get down!” yelled Yuri, pulling Jackson back from the door just as the automaton swung its weapons over towards what it perceived as the closest threat and fired.
Bullet tore through the wooden walls, sending a shower of splinters and debris down onto Yuri and Jackson, laying flat on the floor.
The vehicle sped past the shattered door and ceased firing. Its sensors picked up the body heat from the Greek mercenaries. It moved its turret back over and resumed hammering the crates, chewing them to pieces.
Mitchell was the first man to drop from the maintenance shaft at the back of the cavern. He brought up his weapon to his shoulder and looked around for hostile targets to engage. At the other end of the cave, he saw a group of men hiding behind a couple of forklifts. He could hear the sounds of a battle raging, unchecked. The hellish sound echoed through the vast chamber.
“Follow me,” said Mitchell over his shoulder to O’Higgins. “We’ll use the long row of crates as cover.”
O’Higgins gave him a thumbs-up and passed his orders to his men.
Mitchell warily crept forward. The sound of the firefight from the other end of the cave grew louder by the second. Whatever was going on, he was happy not to be part of it. They had gone less than fifty meters when the firing abruptly stopped, plunging the cavern into an eerie, unsettling silence. Mitchell raised his left hand. Everyone behind him froze. He tried to see what was going on, but the stacks of boxes were too high. Mitchell warily crept to the corner of the pile of boxes he was using for corner, and peered around the edge. He spotted three men making their way towards him. They were dressed identically to the dead Greek mercenaries he had seen upstairs.
The silence was broken when one of the German guards over by the forklifts saw the Chilean soldiers and opened fire, wounding one of the commandos. A deadly firefight erupted as both sides fired at one another. Another soldier fell.
“Use the crates for cover!” yelled out Mitchell.
The soldiers dragged their wounded comrades behind the tall stacks and took cover.
For a moment, with bullets flying all around him, Mitchell had forgotten about the mercenaries. When he jumped behind a pile of boxes to take up a new fire position, he almost landed on top of one of the Greeks. At point-blank range, both men fired their submachine guns. A bullet flew past Mitchell’s head, missing it by millimeters. Mitchell’s aim, however, was truer. The mercenary fell back with a piece of his skull missing. Before he could turn his weapon on the two other men, they turned about and ran.
“Who the hell are those people?” August demanded to know.
“They look like Chilean soldiers to me,” replied Beck.
“What the hell are they doing here?”
Beck let out a tired sigh. “Sir, Mitchell must have gone for help. There can be can be no other logical explanation.”
“This is turning into a bloody travesty,” said August. “We have to get out of here. With one phone call to
the President, I can get all of the treasure back in a matter of days, if not hours,” he boasted. “However, I can’t do that if I’m dead.”
As if to reinforce August’s statement, several bullets noisily ricocheted off the closest forklift.
Beck looked over at the cavern wall. He took out a remote device from his jacket and pressed a button on the instrument. A hidden door slid open. Beck said to one of his men, “Bring the robot around to kill the soldiers.”
The man moved his finger over the laptop’s screen. Having just finished killing off the men by the elevator, the robot turned about and raced off to engage the newest group of intruders.
“Make sure that you only shoot at the soldiers,” warned August. “I don’t want a single piece of priceless art hit.”
The man nodded his head and brought the robot to a halt just outside of the labyrinth of boxes. He quickly made sure that the weapons were locked into the vehicle’s motion-sensor system, thereby avoiding any unnecessary firing. Each shot from now on would be aimed and deliberate.
Beck tapped August on the arm. “Time for us to go, sir.”
Jackson saw the robot race past their destroyed office. He crawled forward on his belly and popped his head out, so he could see what was going on. The path toward the elevators was clear. With the Germans occupied, Jackson knew that their opportunity to get away had arrived. He bent down and helped Yuri to his feet. “Whatever happens, keep moving.”
“Da. Let’s get out of here,” replied Yuri.
Together, they hobbled as fast as they could. When they got to the elevator, Jackson helped Yuri sit down, propped up against the wall. Jackson let out a low whistle at the sight of the dead mercenaries sprawled out on the ground. He moved over and picked up two Uzis. He checked that they were loaded before handing one to Yuri.
Barracuda Page 25