Fire From The Sky | Book 8 | Hell Fire

by Reed, N. C.

  “You handled that really well,” Greg complimented. “Great people skills.” His sarcasm was subtle, but still apparent.

  “Yeah, well, I didn't get the Marine Corp etiquette class,” Clay riposted.

  Across the road, behind the enemy vehicles, suppressed rifles began firing from cover, picking off gunners in Hummers and the gun trucks. With the hail of fire coming from the front, the men on the convoy didn't realize they had fire coming from behind them. Caught by surprise, they didn't think of something so basic for the first few seconds.

  “Now!” Xavier shouted and all five men on the far side of the road ran from cover toward the enemy vehicles. Xavier had assigned each of them to one vehicle, covering both gun trucks and three Hummers. The MRAP would have been nice, but was judged as too difficult to get the drop on.

  The gun trucks proved to be the easiest thing, as Zach and Xavier simply lobbed their stun grenades over the side and into the bed where they detonated, leaving the men inside blinded and deafened for the time being. Easy targets for the two of them to climb up and shoot.

  Stacy Pryor took the Hummer immediately in front of the lead gun truck, the second vehicle in line, and tossed his stunner into the gun turret. While it didn't make it down into the passenger compartment, it did severely injure the gunner and put him out of action. The driver was the sole remaining occupant of the vehicle and Pryor simply opened the door and put three rounds in his head before moving down the line, leaving the blinded and burned gunner screaming in pain.

  Kurtis Montana was new to this sort of thing, but he was athletic and fast, and knew what he needed to do. He ran toward his target, jumping at the last second to place his right foot on the rear tire, using it as a springboard to get elevation. The gunner was still shooting toward the front and never noticed the grenade bounce by him, landing in the turret itself. Kurtis was down on the ground and covered when the grenade went off, leaving the driver and gunner both affected.

  With no hesitation, Kurtis ripped the door open and shot the driver, then turned his pistol to shoot the gunner in both legs. When the man fell back into the passenger compartment, Kurtis shot him again, this time in the head. As soon as he was done, Kurtis was moving back across the road to where his rifle was laying, his job now to provide cover fire for the others.

  Kade was the last one in the line, and had another Hummer, the one immediately behind Kurtis'. Kade was just as athletic as Kurtis, but wasn't as fortunate. He also used the rear tire for a leg up, but the driver was more aware than his fellows and had seen the others moving ahead. Kade managed to get the grenade into the turret, but as he was falling the driver of his target Hummer pushed a short-barreled rifle out of the window and fired a three round burst that stitched the teen from his waist line to his throat.

  Kade happened to be looking that way and could only watch in slow motion as the rifle turned his way. He felt three hammer blows against his body while still in the air, forcing him backwards with each blow.

  The last blow was oddly painless, he thought...

  -

  Zach happened to be looking that way and saw the entire action as if it were in slow motion, Kade seeming to take forever to fall to the ground, blood bursting from him in more than one place and a look of shock on his face. As Kade hit the ground, the door opened and the driver began to dismount, probably to ensure his target was dead. Doing so spared him the effect of the stun grenade, though his gunner suffered the full effect.

  Something inside Zach broke free upon seeing Kade hit the ground. He heard a vicious snarl from somewhere, never realizing it was coming from his own throat. Ripping his knife from where it rested on his harness, Zach didn't hesitate a second, running the short distance and throwing himself at the driver's back, knife already moving forward just as Tandi had taught him.

  The driver was a burly man and stronger than he looked, but it didn't matter in this instance as Zach's rage more than made up for any lack of strength he might have encountered. Zach was strong as well, and his left arm circled the driver's forehead while his right brought the knife into play, stabbing the blade hilt deep into the man's upper chest and then pulling it up and across his torso. While the man was wearing a vest, Zach had been taught how to defeat that, and did now as his knife cut cleanly across the driver, tearing out his throat and slicing his trachea, esophagus, and the top of his left lung. Dropping the dying man without a thought, Zach knelt beside Kade even as bullets pinged off the Hummer's armor, hoping against hope that his friend still lived.

  “He's gone,” Xavier's voice said into his ear. “I'm sorry, Zachary, but he's gone.”

  Zach nodded, not even looking at Xavier before he tore open the rear door of the Hummer and pulled the still groggy gunner onto the ground, dispatching him in roughly the same way he had the driver. Unsatisfied, he looked up toward the next vehicle, the last in the line, where at least two more men sat, the driver having just noticed them. Zach took off at a sprint, running for the Hummer as fast as his legs could carry him. He could see the driver's eyes widen as the blood covered teen ran toward him and watched him bang on the gunner's leg behind him, trying to get the gunner's attention. Zach saw the gunner look his direction, nod and begin to turn the gun toward Zach, but before the gun could be brought to bear, the gunner's head disappeared in a red haze, falling victim to Kurtis Montana's rifle.

  Zach's subconscious registered Kurtis on the side of the road, but his attention was fully focused on his target and he never slowed, nor allowed his concentration to waver. Zach reached the Hummer just as the driver was trying to get his rifle out of the window.

  Zach reached inside the window, grabbing the man by his harness and yanking him through the window out onto the ground, his anger giving him more strength than he might normally have displayed. He jerked the rifle from the man's hands and fell astride him, knife at the man's throat.

  “Who are you and what are you doing here?” he all but growled, and was pleased to see the fear in the man's eyes as he came face-to-face with his own mortality.

  “Well done, Zachary,” Xavier's soft voice was in his ear again. “Shall we see what this man can tell us?”

  -

  Garfield had felt a hammer blow to his left leg almost as soon as the shooting started. Falling, he looked down to see most of his leg below the knee missing. Looking around him frantically, he found the missing limb, boot still attached, some five feet behind him. As shock set in, all he could do was watch as his 'command' was cut to pieces.

  He had landed on his pistol and tried to move so he could reach it, having left his rifle behind in the Hummer in order to present a false sense of security to the farm owner. He drew the weapon and looked for someone to shoot, holding the pistol shakily out before him, already suffering from the loss of blood.

  This was a mistake.

  -

  Samantha Walters had already downed one target seated behind a machine gun on a Hummer and another on the ground. Now she watched the battlefield, looking for other targets. Most of the men out of the vehicles were already down, and Heath was concentrating on those still inside vehicles with that mammoth rifle he used.

  She knew that Gordy was down there in that new bunker, right in the middle of everything, so she was paying more attention to that area than others. As a result, she saw the 'leader', as she thought of him, pull a pistol and point it in that general direction, bracing it on the ground to hold it still. She could see he was missing part of his leg already, but he could still fire a gun without a leg.

  Realizing that this man might know things Clay would want to learn, Samantha changed her aim from his chest to his hand and the pistol inside it. It was a difficult shot, and one that not many could make, but while Samantha's skill with a pistol was mediocre at best, her skill with a rifle was beyond question and her target was agreeably nice and steady, braced on the hard ground. She placed her crosshairs on the hand and pistol and slowly squeezed the trigger.

  The recoil surpri
sed her, just as it should have.

  -

  Garfield screamed as his fingers flew off, accompanied by his pistol and a goodly portion of his left hand. Through tear dimmed eyes he looked to see the pistol, his index finger still curled around the trigger, laying a good six feet away. Looking that direction also showed him the carnage around his men and vehicles, and they had fared no better than he had.

  What had he led them in to? Who were these people?

  -

  “How bad is it?” Mitchell yelled. Doc was hovering over Gordy, who was on the ground, bleeding from his shoulder.

  “High shoulder, missed the joint,” Doc replied, working fast to stem the bleeding. “Won't be lifting little missy this time, kid, but you'll be okay,” he winked.

  “Get me back up,” Gordy said through gritted teeth.

  “You're out, kid,” Doc shook his head.

  “It's my left shoulder,” Gordy replied. “I shoot right-handed. Get me up, Doc. My friends are out there in this shit. Get me on my feet.”

  Tandi could understand that and moved to help the teen back on his feet. Kandi grabbed Gordy's rifle and helpfully slammed a full magazine into the well before handing it to him.

  “Thanks,” he nodded, leaning against the wall and lifting his rifle to prop it on the log that framed the opening before him. Kandi just shook her head before returning to her post on the side view, watching in case someone tried to flank them.

  The phone rang just then and Doc grabbed it, still trying to keep an eye on Gordy.

  “Bunker, this is Doc.”

  “Doc, this is JJ,” an excited voice told him. “If you can get there, Shane and Corey are in Post One, east side of the Troy House. Shane says Corey is hit in the torso and Shane in the shoulder. They need help if you can get to them.”

  “Roger that,” Tandi's mind was turning. “Let Boss know they need relief.”

  “On it.” Tandi replaced the phone.

  “I gotta go!” he yelled to Mitchell and Nate. “Shane is hit and Corey is down, over in Post One. I need to get over there. JJ is calling Boss to send help to cover the hole!”

  “I can go!” Kandi turned to look at him. Hearing that Shane was hit had jarred her.

  “No can do,” Doc shook his head. “This place has to be manned, and with me gone and Gordy questionable, we can't spare any more. Boss is in Post Two, with Greg and Sienna. He can go or send one of them, assuming they can get out. I'm going behind the buildings and then up behind the post, like I did the last time Corey was hit. I swear the kid's a bullet magnet,” he shook his head as he repacked his gear from treating Gordy. Mitchell looked over from where he was manning an M240, identical to the one in Nate's hands.

  “We'll lay down suppressing fire on your say so, Doc,” he said. “Ready on your call.” Tandi nodded as he shouldered his pack and then paused to put a fresh magazine in his rifle. He made his way to the ramp leading up and out of the hole before turning. He took a deep breath and paused for two second before yelling:

  “Now!”

  Both men opened fire, hosing the entire front before them down with the harder hitting 7.62 rounds, tearing up earth and flesh in equal measure. Tandi gave it to the count of three before streaking out of the bunker and heading behind the buildings.

  An alert gunner aboard the MRAP saw Tandi going and began to turn his gun in the running medic's direction, but an armor piercing fifty-caliber round slamming into his shield and leaving a large hole convinced him that the running man wasn't worth his attention. By that time Tandi was out of sight, making his way to where Shane and Corey were.

  -

  “I'll go through Building Two and out the back, then around,” Greg said, making sure his rifle had a full magazine. “Please tell JJ to tell Jose not to shoot me,” he added. “Also be great if the door was propped open just a peek.”

  “Got it,” Clay nodded after speaking into the phone again. “Count of three.” Clay and Sienna turned back to the front, Clay holding a M249 SAW and Sienna another M240 machine gun.

  “One... two... THREE!” Clay shouted as he opened fire. Greg waited two seconds before shooting through the cramped tunnel and into the open, running for Building Two. He felt a round clip at his shoulder but didn't feel any pain as he reached the door and hit the ground to crawl inside. Once in the building he stayed prone and continued to crawl until he was behind the area covered by the rail ties.

  “Radio bought it,” Jose noted, nodding at Greg's shoulder. Greg looked to where the little FRS radio had been hooked to the shoulder of his uniform and blinked.

  “I knew I felt something,” he said quietly as he headed for the rear door. “Could have been worse.”

  “Probably will be yet,” Jose said grimly. “Watch yourself.”

  “Got it,” Greg waved over his shoulder. He hit the back door just in time to see Tandi headed around the corner of Building Three. Knowing the medic would draw heat toward that area, Greg ran to catch up, hoping to avoid the worst of it.

  -

  “I can not believe this shit,” Corey moaned as he lay on the floor of the small foxhole. “The same damn place as last time!”

  “Shut up, kid,” Shane growled back, trying to ignore his own injury, a bullet burn across his entire upper back that had gone beneath his armor. He could feel himself bleeding and knew that while the wound probably wasn't life threatening in and of itself, the blood loss could be.

  “At least you ain't dead,” Shane continued. He avoided saying that he had seen Kade Ramsey go down hard outside. Corey didn't need anything else to worry about at the moment. Corey's vest had been penetrated by shrapnel from a grenade blast. Either that or the shrapnel had gone high, over his vest, or else between the panels. Either way, the kid was bleeding from what looked like a dozen small wounds.

  “And I am tru-truly grateful for that, I puh-promise,” Corey replied as he tried to get his trauma bandage across his wound. “That doesn't make it hurt less at the m-moment, though,” he stammered through clenched teeth. Before Shane could respond to that, Tandi Maseo slid into the hole on his knees.

  “Jesus, kid, we gotta stop meeting like this!” Tandi said as he shrugged his pack off and tore it open.

  “W-works for me,” Corey nodded. “This is worse th... than last time, I think,” he added. Tandi moved the trauma bandage aside and took a look.

  “You're right, it is,” he told Corey, going into his bag.

  “You were supposed to t-tell me it was okay!” Corey objected.

  “Well, it probably will be okay, assuming you don't bleed out,” Tandi assured him. “Or die from an infection,” he added mischievously. “Or maybe blood poisoning. Or-”

  “For fucks sake, I get it!” Corey shouted. “Lucky to be alive and all that-” he stopped short and grabbed his pistol as another body slid into the hole. Greg Holloway raised a hand, looking down at the teen.

  “Easy kid,” Greg said, trying for reassuring. “Good guy here.”

  “Sorry,” Corey apologized. “I ain't having the b-best day ever, here.”

  “I know the feeling buddy,” Greg promised as he moved to help Shane. “You don't look like you're having too good a time either, man,” he noted as he looked at Shane's back.

  “Had better,” Shane admitted. “Looks worse than it is.”

  “I got it from here,” Greg promised. “Take a knee and let Doc get a look at you. We may be winding down here anyway. We're running out of bad guys.”

  “Well that's just a damn shame,” Shane collapsed on the ground as his legs stopped supporting him suddenly.

  “Give me just a minute, Rat, and I'll be right there,” Tandi promised. “Kid, put your hand here and hold this,” he grabbed Corey's hand and placed it over the trauma dressing. “You're bleeding, but the shrapnel didn't hit anything vital and the wound's not a gusher. It's going to hurt like a bitch, so I'm going to pop you with morphine,” he jabbed an ampule into Corey's arm. Seconds later Corey was feeling much better.


  “I remember this shit,” he almost grinned. “Good stuff.”

  “The best,” Tandi chuckled as he moved to Shane. He had to maneuver the bigger man around to get to his wound.

  “Damn,” Tandi muttered as he removed Shane's gear and then cut through his tunic to expose the graze.

  “Rat, you lucky fucker,” he muttered again. “Half an inch further in and this would have hollowed you out like a gourd!” When he got no reply, he looked around his friend's shoulder to find that Shane had passed out, likely from blood loss.

  “Damn, damn, damn,” Tandi cursed bitterly as worked to stop the bleeding on Shane's back. The crease ran all the way across the back of his shoulders, from arm to arm. There was blood seeping down into his belt line, his pants soaked down through the rear pockets.

  “Holy shit,” he continued to talk to himself. “How long was he bleeding, kid?”

  “Wha-?” Corey sounded sleepy. “Bleeding what?”

  “Never mind,” Tandi shook his head. The combination of blood loss and morphine made questioning Corey useless at this point. Laying Shane out as flat as he could, Tandi worked quickly to clear away the blood from the wound and get the bleeding stopped. He would have to start a bag of plasma as soon as he could to try and get Shane's blood volume up.

  This really was turning into a hell of day.

  -

  “Shit!” Sienna almost screamed as a trio of heavy rounds crashed around her position in Sentry Two. “Fuck!” her hands went to her face as she ducked down, blood streaming from between her fingers.

  “Sienna!” Clay tried to look for her wound while still keeping an eye out front. Sienna was on the floor, blood still running from between her fingers as she covered her face. Lowering his weapon, Clay knelt beside her, using the water from his canteen to wash the blood away from her face.

  Sienna's face had been cut by both shrapnel and splinters from the rounds that had slammed into the firing slit of the foxhole. Clay ignored the splinters in her forehead and cheek, concentrating instead on what looked like part of a bullet casing that was lodged in her neck, dangerously close to her jugular.