Termination Order: A Team Reaper Thriller
Page 15
Kane raised his 416.
“What are you doing?” Brick snapped.
“Warning shot.”
“Don’t blow us the fuck up.”
“I’ll try not to.”
Kane was about to squeeze the trigger when “Reaper Three engaging.”
“Copy, Reaper Three,” Kane acknowledged. “Brick, find a place to set your charges.”
“Copy.”
“Marek, last chance for you to come out. You’ve got two minutes, and then we blow this place sky high.”
Silence.
Lifting his 416 again, Kane fired a single shot. It was enough to bring the frightened young man out from his hiding position. Bazyli had his arms raised, and he shouted, “Don’t shoot!”
“Lay down on the floor,” Kane barked.
The young man did as he was told, and Kane moved forward. He pulled Bazyli’s hands around behind his back and used cable ties to secure them. Then he grabbed his collar and snapped, “Get the fuck up.”
“You can’t do this. You don’t know who my father is.”
Kane slapped him up the back of the head and said, “Shut up.”
The team leader pushed him forward to where Brick was working. “How long?”
“One mike and we’re good.”
Kane pressed the transmit button on his radio. “Zero? Reaper One. Copy?”
“Copy, Reaper One.”
“We have the package, Zero. We are just about to start exfil.”
“Copy, Reaper One.”
Brick stood up and said, “I’m done.”
Kane spoke into his mic, “Reaper Two, Three, we’re coming out.”
Brick shoved Bazyli forward. “Move, asshole.”
Once they reached the door, they could hear the rattle of gunfire a lot clearer than before. Kane opened it and peered out. He raised his 416 and let go a burst of fire at a guard who was positioned behind a crate.
“OK let’s go,” Kane called back over his shoulder. They slipped out the door and ran low for the first building. Once there, Kane said into the mic, “Reaper Three, disengage and fall back to me. Reaper Two, cover our exfil.”
Arenas did as he was ordered, and they all regrouped behind building One. “Are you OK, Carlos?”
The Mexican nodded. “Yes. I think I accounted for two more.”
“Reaper One? Reaper Two. You need to move now. Building three is regurgitating tangos.”
“Copy, Reaper Two. Give us two minutes and then move to rendezvous. Carlos, lead out.”
As they ran through the trees, bullets started to snap and ricochet all around them. Bark and wood splinters flew as lead gouged furrows into the pines. Cara’s voice filled Kane’s head, “Reaper One, you have ten tangos on your ass. Run faster.”
“I’ve got it,” Brick said and dropped back. “Let me know when you’re clear.”
“OK. Just keep your ass down.”
The former SEAL gave him a dumb smile and slapped a fresh magazine home. “Don’t leave without me.”
Brick settled down behind a tree and brought his suppressed 416 up. He said into his mic, “Reaper Two, tell me a story.”
“Copy, Reaper Five. How’s this? Once upon a time, there were two tangos coming in on your two o’clock.”
He heard the snap of the .408 round as it came in overhead. “Make that one.”
“How’d you manage that?”
“I have skills, Reaper Five.”
Brick smiled. He saw the second man moving through the trees and dropped him with a couple of shots to the body. “Tell me more, Reaper Two.”
“Wow, this is interesting.”
“What’s that?”
“I have two more tangos with what looks to be an RPG, coming up on you and I have no shot.”
“Copy. Where from?”
“Coming in from your eleven, Reaper Five.”
Brick stared through the trees and tried to pick them up. “Reaper, you guys almost there? Things are about to heat up.”
“Just about, Reaper Five.”
Suddenly a rocket-propelled grenade streaked out of the forest, the telltale smoke trail indicating its path. With a loud roar, it impacted close and erupted into a ball of orange flame. Brick hugged the ground and felt the heat from it wash over him.
“Brick! Brick are you OK?” Cara’s voice came over the comms.
“I’m still here, but that was close.”
“Fall back before they reload.”
“Copy, ma’am. Falling back.”
He came to his feet and started back through the trees. An automatic rifle opened fire behind him, and he heard the rounds impact the trees. “Can you get a shot at him, ma’am?”
“Just keep your head down, Brick.”
Once more Brick heard the incoming .408 round, and the rattle of the automatic fire stopped. “You won’t have any more trouble with him, Reaper Five.”
“Copy.”
“Reaper Five? Reaper One. We’re out. Fall back to the rendezvous point.”
“Roger. Coming to you.”
“Reaper One to all Reaper Team. Fire in the hole, I say again, fire in the hole.”
Behind Brick, two large crumps could be heard followed by the accompanying fireballs which rose above the trees.
Chapter 15
Team Reaper
Latvia
“Reaper One? Zero, over.”
“Copy, Zero.”
“Change of plans, Reaper. We’ve organized a chopper to come and extract the team and your package. The bad news with that is, it’s twelve hours away. I’ll give you some coordinates for your team to relocate to. It’ll be to an LZ big enough for our purpose.”
“Roger, Zero. That’ll make it a nighttime op. Why the long wait?”
“General bullshit, Reaper One. The good news is that we should be able to get a satellite tasked to help out. Until then, get your team to the LZ. It’ll probably take you four hours to get there. That way it’s far enough out to hopefully throw off any pursuit.”
“Copy, Zero. Awaiting coordinates. Reaper One, out.”
“Sending now, Zero, out.”
Kane gathered his team around him. “We’ve got air extract coming in. The only problem is we still have to hump four hours to get to the LZ. And then we’ll still have an eight-hour wait for the helo.”
Brick chuckled. “Good old army.”
“It is what it is. Cara, you escort our friend here and, Brick, you’re on point. We’ll swap around every hour.”
“Where are we headed?”
“North.”
CIA Safehouse
Warsaw, Poland
Mark Newcomb’s secure satellite phone rang and for some reason he had a feeling that it wasn’t going to be a happy call. “Yeah?”
Horn’s voice cut through the speaker with savage intent. “What the fuck is going on over there? I get woken up at four in the morning by Marek screaming blue fucking murder about his son.”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean, sir.”
“Try this on then,” Horn growled. “Thurston’s fucking team just blew up one of Marek’s facilities in Latvia.”
Newcomb glanced about the room and found Nicole. She rose from her chair when he motioned to her via hand signals that he wanted her to listen in on the call, so she worked a little magic and joined them on the line.
“And that concerns us how, sir?”
“Because they took his fucking son, that’s how,” Horn snarled. “Get Bull Horton and his team spun up. I want them on the ground in Latvia in three hours.”
“How will we know if they’re still there?” Newcomb asked. “They could be long gone by the time Blackbird gets there.”
“We’re the CI fucking A, Mark. By the time the team lands we’ll have a location. If they’re not there, then we’ll move accordingly. Now, get the team in the fucking air!”
The line went dead, and Newcomb stared across at Nicole. “Get Bull.”
Team Reaper
Latvia
“Zero? Reaper One, over.”
“Copy, Reaper One.”
“Zero, it looks like Marek has air assets and they’re in the air as we speak.”
“What kind?”
“A Mi-8 helo.”
“Copy.”
“How’s our back trail?”
Swift came over the net. “Reaper One? Bravo Four. The satellite picked up perhaps ten tangos about one klick back. They’re keeping pace with you, not closing at all.”
“What are they doing now, Bravo Four?”
“They have stopped.”
“Are they shadowing us, Reaper Four?”
“That would be my guess.”
Kane glanced at his team. “Slick, see if you can do a sweep ahead of us and come up with something. I have me a feeling.”
“Copy, Reaper One. Bravo Four, out.”
“Is there a problem?” Cara asked.
“Yes, we’re being herded like cattle. I’ve a feeling that we’re about to run into something ahead of us.”
“Any idea what?”
“Not a damned clue.”
Kane got the team moving through the trees again. Arenas was on point, and they’d covered half a klick when Swift came over the comms. “Reaper One? Bravo Four, copy?”
“Copy, Bravo Four.”
“OK, so your friends are moving again, and I’ve done a sweep ahead of you, and it looks clear. However, I did some sniffing around to try and find out what our friends at the CIA are up to. They flew a new team in after you took out the other one. This one is a little different. It’s Bull Horton’s Blackbird Team.”
“Copy that. Do you happen to know where they are?”
“They took off from Warsaw-Modlin Airport around two and a half hours ago.”
“No prizes for guessing where they’re headed.”
“That’s what we figured.”
“What time frame are we looking at?”
“They should be on the ground in around thirty minutes.”
“Copy. Get Zero for me, Reaper One, out.”
“Roger. Out.”
Kane said to his team, “You guys get all that?”
They nodded. Cara asked, “Who’s Bull Horton.”
Brick said, “He heads up a Delta team that the CIA use all the time. They’re damned good at what they do, so I’ve heard.”
“They’re more than good,” Kane said. “In the world of SPECOPS, they’re considered the best.”
“You meet him, Reaper?” Brick asked.
“Yeah, few years back.”
Before they could talk anymore, the comms came to life. “Reaper One? Zero, over.”
“Copy, Zero. The team and I are going to take a little detour. We’ll head east a couple of klicks and lay up until we think it’s all clear. That way we can make the rendezvous with the helo when required.”
“Roger that, Reaper One. The word from Bravo is do not engage unless you have to. Over.”
“Good copy, Zero. Reaper One, out.”
The team gathered around Kane, and they looked over the map. He touched an area and said, “Looks like there’s some high ground here and trees to go with it. We’ll lay up there until it’s time to head out to the LZ. Hopefully, Horton and his team will slide right by. Any questions?”
They all shook their heads.
“I have one?” Bazyli said.
Kane looked at him and said, “Shut the fuck up.”
Ramstein Airforce Base
Germany
Back in Ramstein, Axe paced back and forth around the hangar as he waited for reports to come in. He’d been on edge when they hit the compound, and that had eased some since they’d extracted afterward. However, the intel that Bull Horton and Blackbird were inbound set him on edge once more.
“Where are they now?” he asked Swift for the hundredth time.
The computer tech pointed at the screen and said, “Right there. They’ve moved a hundred meters further on from their last position. Take a load off and relax, man. You’re starting to freak me out.”
Axe walked away from Swift and heard him say, “Here we go.”
The ex-recon marine turned and hurried back. “Here we go, what?”
“Reaper One? Bravo Four, over.”
“Copy, Bravo Four.”
“You’ve just had a helicopter touch down about two klicks to your northeast.”
“Copy, Bravo Four. Keep me informed.”
Axe watched on the screen as figures were disgorged from the helicopter. Marvelous things satellites. He counted twelve men, no doubt wearing full tactical gear. They took all of thirty seconds to disembark, and then the helo lifted off again.
“Axe, you got a minute?” Thurston called out from across the hangar.
He walked over to her and said, “Yes, ma’am?”
“Can you and Traynor take Falk back to the lockup? I dismissed his guard a while back because he was cooperating with us and he wasn’t a threat.”
Axe looked over at the manufacturer. He was sitting patiently at the interrogation table.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Thank you.”
He walked over to the table and said, “Time to go home.”
The man nodded and stood up. Traynor came over to join them. “We all good to go?”
“Sure are.”
They began to escort him to toward the door when it opened, and four armed men in BDUs entered. “Who are you guys?” Traynor asked them.
“We’re here to escort the prisoner back,” a tall man said.
Axe shrugged. “That’s where we were going.”
Two of them unslung their MP7s. “We’ll take him.”
“Sure. Here you go.”
The four men took possession of Falk and started toward the door. Axe said to Traynor, “You ever know MPs to carry MP7s before?”
Traynor looked at him. “Shit, Axe, I don’t know.”
“Let me tell you this,” he said. “They don’t.”
He brought up his M17 and said in a loud voice, “Hey, you fucked up.”
The leader turned around and saw the gun. “What the hell, man?”
“MPs don’t carry MP7s.”
Sudden realization registered on the man’s face and he tried to bring his gun into play. The M17 crashed, and the intruder was flung back. Axe shifted his aim and put two into the next man in the line.
Taken by surprise, Traynor was a little slower than Axe. By the time the third man took a bullet in his chest from the former DEA agent, his MP7 was almost level. An involuntary jerk of the trigger finger sprayed bullets throughout the hangar, sending those within ducking for cover.
Axe accounted for the last shooter. Two shots. One to the chest and the other to the throat. The man dropped to the concrete floor and bled out.
“You clear?” Axe snapped to Traynor.
“Yes. Clear.”
“Check them. I’ll take a look outside. Falk, are you OK?”
Falk was huddled on the floor in the position he’d taken when the first shots were fired. “I’m OK,” came his muffled reply.
While Axe went outside, Traynor checked the fallen shooters. All were beyond help, but he kicked their weapons away anyway. Force of habit and good practice.
“What the hell just happened here?” Thurston asked, her voice elevated. Behind her came Ferrero.
“These guys came here for a reason, but we don’t know why,” Traynor explained. “But they sure as shit are not MPs.”
He went on and explained what happened and how Axe picked up that they were imposters.
“Christ!” Thurston cursed. “Whoever did this has got some fucking balls. Slick? Where are you?”
“Here, ma’am,” came the reply and the tech hurried over.
&
nbsp; “Get some pictures of these bastards and find out who they are,” the general snarled.
“Yes, ma’am. But that might be a bit hard.”
She glared at him. “Say that again.”
“That burst of fire that ripped through the hangar, ma’am. A couple of rounds smashed into our station. We’ve got no electronics at this point in time.”
“Fuck!” she hissed.
“It gets worse, ma’am. We’ve got no communications with Kane and his team. For the time being, they’re on their own.”
Thurston stared at Ferrero. “Luis, get this cleaned up. I’ll be back as soon as I can get us some equipment.”
Blackbird Team
Latvia
The sound of the helicopter disappeared into the distance, the whop-whop-whop of its rotor lost to the valley. Bull Horton pressed the transmit button on his comms. “Blackbird on Station. Comms check, over.”
“Copy, Blackbird. Read you loud and clear. Your target is approximately two klicks southwest of your position.”
“Copy, Blackbird Base. Moving to target.”
Horton turned to his number two and said, “Set your course to the southwest. You’re on point. Two klicks.”
The man nodded and disappeared into the trees.
Horton turned and looked at his team. They were good, professional. He’d been in many hot zones with all of them. This was just another day.
“Blackbird Team, move out.”
Team Reaper
Latvia
“Zero? Reaper One, how copy?”
Static.
“Zero? Reaper One, how copy?”
More static.
“Nothing?” asked Cara.
Kane shook his head. He’d been trying for the past hour to get an update on Horton’s Blackbird Team, but Ramstein had remained eerily silent.
“I don’t like it,” he said to Cara. “They’ve been quiet too long.”
“The question is, why?”
Kane nodded. They’d arrived at their lay up about ten minutes beforehand. He’d posted Carlos as rear guard and sent Brick to have a look around. He hated being blind, but it wouldn’t be the first time. He said, “Make sure our friend is secure.”