This wasn’t just another day out on the beat with Moose. Today, the LAPD was going to war.
Dom took a seat beside his best friend, and Camilla took the seat across the aisle. She placed her helmet on the seat next to her and checked her assigned AR-15 rifle.
“Piece of crap,” she muttered.
Most of the officers were armed with older-model weapons or shotguns. Moose carried a pump-action twelve-gauge. Like Camilla, Dom had been issued an AR-15 and three magazines. Bullets were in short supply, and every single one needed to count.
The bus lurched forward, and the sergeant in charge stood at the front of the aisle. Álvaro Cortez was a short, muscular man with a buzz cut and a square jawline. He and many of the other sergeants in charge had been Army Rangers who signed up with law enforcement after their units disbanded.
Soon, Dom’s father would also be out of a job, but for now the marines were helping the LAPD and sheriffs in the fight for Los Angeles.
“San Diego has fallen, and San Fran is teetering,” Sergeant Cortez said in a deep voice. “What we do today determines whether Los Angeles is next.” Cortez grabbed a seat as the driver fired up the engine. “I’ll be honest with you,” he continued. “We are outnumbered, and some of us probably aren’t coming home tonight, but it is our duty to our city and our families to fight, even if it’s to the death.”
Dom looked out the window at the school in the darkness. Leaving his mom and sister was one of the hardest things he had ever done, not knowing whether he would ever see them again.
He had a new appreciation for all the times his father had left them on deployments. Ronaldo had always been strong for his family, and now Dom would be as well, despite a hard truth. According to recent statistics, a quarter of the officers on this bus would be injured or dead in less than a week. The statistics didn’t lie, but he also believed he made his own luck.
Be smart, fight hard, stay alive.
“We’re headed to Florence this morning to aid in a battle against F-Thirteen,” Cortez said. He lowered his head to the radio on the outside of his vest to listen to a transmission.
“Great,” Moose said, loading shells into his shotgun. “F-Thirteen are some of the craziest fuckers out there.”
“They’re allied with the Vega family,” Dom said.
Everyone knew that Esteban Vega had been behind the assassination of Chief Diamond. The chief had declared war, and a minute later, Esteban had fired the first shot.
As the bus moved out, squad cars flanked the convoy on the route to the interstate. Embers flickered on the horizon, indicating the locations of the most intense fighting.
Some of the officers in the bus looked out their windows. Others bowed their heads in prayer.
Camilla continued checking her gear. She met Dom’s gaze, and he noticed a hint of fear in her eyes. She always had come off as a badass, and while some of that was an act, she was truly a strong young woman. Seeing her jitters brought out his own.
“You okay?” he asked her.
She shrugged. More of her tough-gal act.
“It’s okay to be scared,” Dom admitted. “I am. My dad always said anyone not scared before a battle is either insane or stupid.”
She nodded. “I’m not scared of dying. I’m scared of letting you guys down.”
“Listen up,” Cortez announced. “We’re headed to a strip mall off Florence and Roseberry. Scouts report that the remaining F-Thirteen members have retreated and taken hostages there at the northern end. We don’t have numbers of friendlies, just that they exist. Our platoon will infil from the south end of the mall. It should be a clear approach, but don’t get complacent. Eyes up and weapons ready as we move. This is a raid, people. We want to rescue as many hostages as we can, but priority is neutralizing the enemy. Because we’re running on fucking fumes here, we don’t have any flash-bangs to hand out, or CS. So suck it up and get ready.”
The hush of conversations echoed through the dark bus. Most of the cops didn’t even understand what the hell Cortez was saying, but Dom had grown up around marines and understood perfectly. This was a raid, and things weren’t going to be pretty.
Moose nudged Dom.
He glanced over at this friend. “Yeah?”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen today, but I want you to know you’ve been more of a brother to me than Ray, and …” Moose shook his antlered Afro. “I just really appreciate all you’ve done for me over the years.”
“I love you, bro, and I’ve always got your back.”
“And I got yours.”
“You two wanna get a room?” Camilla asked.
Moose all but smiled. “I’m ready to break some bones.”
“That’s what I’m talking ’bout,” Camilla said, reaching over with a fist. She winked at Dom.
The convoy pulled off the interstate and sped toward the glow of fires. As soon as they hit the outskirts of Florence, the gunfire started.
Cortez hunched down as a round hit the windshield, splintering the glass in a web that blocked the view out the right side.
“Everyone down!” he yelled. “Prepare to dismount!”
An officer screamed out as a round punched through the metal body of the bus and hit him in the gut.
“Get us out of here!” Cortez yelled at the driver.
Moose got down on his knees and moved over to the wounded officer, who had slumped into the aisle. He put his hand on the guy’s stomach to apply pressure. Another cop bent down to help.
Dom slid over in the seat, away from the windows and toward the aisle, nearly bumping into Camilla, who was leaning out of her seat. The fleet moved down another street, the bus swerving erratically to make the turn.
“Get ready!” Cortez shouted. “This is it. Judgment Day. Send ’em where they belong!”
Squad cars raced past on the right side of the road and pulled off with several ambulances prepared to care for the wounded.
Hissing like a monstrous snake, the bus doors opened to the night.
Gunfire lanced through the windshield, hitting the driver.
“dismount! move it!” Cortez yelled.
Moose helped the injured man up as the bus quickly emptied. The first officers out were immediately struck by a wave of gunfire. By the time Dom got out, two cops were on the pavement, one of them crying out in pain.
“Mama!” he wailed. “I can’t feel my legs!”
The other cop was already dead, his body sprawled at an unnatural angle. Dom bent down to help the screaming officer, but muzzle bursts flashed across the rooftop of the building across the road, forcing him back. He darted to the cover of an ambulance, where Camilla had taken cover.
“Sweet Jesus,” Camilla said. “It’s a fucking war zone.”
Dom crouched and reached out to the injured cop, who was crawling toward them.
“Come on!” Dom shouted. He recognized the eighteen-year-old volunteer who had joined up not long after Dom.
“Cam, cover me!” Dom said.
She raised her rifle and gave a nod.
“Now!” he yelled.
At the crack of gunfire, Dom bolted for the injured cop. He grabbed him by his body armor and dragged him toward the safety of the ambulance, watching pinpricks of fire flash from the rooftop.
Dom pulled the man around to the back of the emergency vehicle. Moose was there with the cop who had taken a round to the stomach. EMTs were already working on him.
Several snipers continued firing from the rooftop, trying to pick off anyone who hadn’t taken cover. Bullets cracked and pinged off the concrete, and one punched through a tire.
Camilla laid down more covering fire, and Dom hunched down to the man he had dragged to safety. He’d been calling for his mother but was quiet now.
Dom went to check for a pulse when he saw two fresh holes i
n the cop’s armor. Blood trickled from both wounds and also below a hole in his helmet.
“Fuck,” Dom muttered, letting go of the guy’s limp hand as if it were contagious. He cradled his weapon and waited to switch positions with Camilla, ready to avenge the poor officer.
“We got to get out of here and draw their fire away from the ambulances,” Moose said. “You guys cover me!”
Dom brought up his rifle and fired, but his finger met resistance. He moved back to cover when he realized he still had the safety on.
Stupid gets you dead , he reminded himself.
Camilla took his place and fired as Moose sprinted across the road toward another strip mall. Rounds punched into the pavement beside Camilla, and Dom grabbed her and pulled her back just in time.
“Let’s go!” Moose yelled across the road.
“I’ll go first and cover us,” Dom said to Camilla. She nodded and patted him on the shoulder. He stepped out to provide covering fire, aiming where he had seen muzzle flashes.
Short bursts. Conserve your ammo.
Camilla didn’t hesitate, racing across the road to Moose’s position.
Dom fired again and then ran, head down now that the muzzle flashes had ceased. He sprinted as fast as he could and didn’t stop until he reached the wall of the building where Moose and Camilla had taken cover.
“You good?” Moose asked.
Dom sucked in air and looked down for wounds. He seemed fine so far—no blood squirting, or pain shooting through him.
The chatter of machine-gun fire broke through the sporadic crack of semiautomatic weapons, snapping him back to reality. This was just the beginning of the fight, the first wave, with plenty more enemies waiting to take him down.
Camilla changed the magazine in her AR-15 and followed Dom and Moose toward a group of cops hunching behind a brick wall and several dumpsters.
One guy was down in the middle of the street, not moving.
More rounds bit into his limp body. Dom flinched at each one. Moose moved through an open side door into a pharmacy. Cortez was there, barking orders at a group of almost twenty officers huddled inside.
“We need to get up on the roof,” he said. “First Squad, you’re on that.”
Another former Ranger gathered his men and moved out.
Cortez turned to the remaining officers. “I need at least three fire teams with me to flank that building. Let’s go, men.”
“And women,” Camilla corrected.
Cortez looked over at her and nodded.
Dom, Moose, and Camilla fell into line behind the sergeant and a half-dozen cops as they navigated the maze of looted shelves and trash littering the floor.
The radio on Cortez’s vest crackled, and he stopped to listen.
“Sounds like we’re sending an armored vehicle in from the front,” Cortez said. “SWAT will go in to support First Squad on taking the roof from inside. Once the vehicle arrives, we make a run for it. Suppressive fire on the rooftop so SWAT and First Squad can get in there and wipe those motherfuckers out.”
Everyone nodded back.
“Top off your weapons before we move,” Cortez said. “When we’re in position, pick your targets. Watch your ammo. One shot, one kill.”
“What about the hostages?” Camilla asked.
“Already dead,” Cortez said. “Executed before we even got here.”
Camilla stared down at the ground, and Dom patted her on the back.
“They won’t die in vain,” she said.
The group of cops set off low and fast to the front of the pharmacy, where they crouched within view of the smashed window.
The rumble of a vehicle sounded over the gunfire, and an armored SWAT truck gunned past the pharmacy. The driver began to turn around a corner to the front of the mall.
Dom saw heads pop up on the rooftop, and then a man holding what looked like a large rifle. A streak of flame confirmed it wasn’t a rifle, but rather a shoulder-fired rocket. The projectile hit the pavement, exploding into a fireball a few feet in front of the truck.
The driver swerved around the blast.
A second rocket slammed into the front wheel of the truck, blowing it onto its side. It slid across the pavement, shooting a fountain of sparks like a roman candle from under the bumper.
Another rocket streaked away. The projectile hit the belly of the vehicle, the explosion sending shrapnel in all directions. One piece of metal lodged in the wall above Dom, and more streaked into the pharmacy.
“Down!” Cortez yelled.
Dom bent down, spotting an officer in riot gear climbing out of the burning vehicle.
“Run!” Camilla shouted.
The guy looked around, disoriented and coughing.
“Over here!” she yelled.
The officer turned in her direction and started moving toward the pharmacy. Camilla got up to help, but Dom held her back as automatic gunfire cracked out overhead.
The injured officer was caught in the fire, his body riddled with bullets. He collapsed, raised a hand toward Camilla, and went limp.
Camilla choked out a scream. “You bastards!”
Dom had to wrestle her to the floor to keep her from firing and getting herself shot.
An officer behind Dom prayed out loud. “Lord in heaven, have mercy on us.”
Another cop sobbed. “This isn’t happening,” he said. “This—”
“Shut the fuck up and get your heads in the game, or we’re going to end up like our brothers on the street,” Cortez said.
He spoke into his shoulder mike and confirmed an order with a grunted oo-rah.
“FRAGO, people,” Cortez said. “We’re moving out as soon as SWAT takes out those snipers. They’ll suppress so we can move into position. We’ll be supporting First Squad inside.”
Dom heard Cortez’s words, but all he could think about were the men who had already died without ever getting a chance to shoot back. In the glow of the burning truck, he could see the F-13 soldiers on the rooftop, fist-pumping and crowing in victory. To them, this was a game. For Dom, this was his chance.
“move!” Dom yelled.
Cortez held up a hand and shouted after him, but it was too late.
Dom led the way out of the shattered entrance and took off across the parking lot toward the part of the strip mall controlled by F-13. Weaving around overturned cars, he raced toward the wall surrounding the mall.
Gunshots cracked overhead as the gangbangers snapped out of their celebration. But the rounds missed Dom, pinging off cars and pavement. He jumped over a car hood, sliding across the surface, and bolted the final yards to the wall of the enemy building.
Right behind him came Moose, then Camilla. Four more officers joined them, including Cortez.
“You’re a crazy son of a bitch, whoever the fuck you are,” said the sergeant. “And if you ever run off like that again and risk getting people killed, I’ll shoot you myself. You hear me, Mr. Badass?”
“His name’s Dominic,” Camilla said.
Cortez stared at her for a second. “I don’t care if he’s the second coming of Audie fucking Murphy. You don’t pull that shit again!” he said, poking Dom in the chest.
Dom didn’t mind being lectured. They all were still breathing for now, and that was what mattered.
“What’s the plan, Sergeant?” Moose asked.
Cortez shook out of his fury. “This may not be the army, but I still outrank you,” he said to Dom. “You follow my orders. Understand?”
Dom nodded. “Yes, Sergeant.”
Across the street, police snipers moved out onto the roof of the pharmacy, laying down fire while Cortez talked into his shoulder mic.
Dom used the stolen moment to get his bearings. They were to the right of an underground parking garage, its entrance blocked by multiple veh
icles. Several other doors led into the shopping center, but there was no way to tell what was on the other side.
“All right,” Cortez said. “We have four more teams at the other side of the building. First Squad is in position. This is go time.” He pointed to Dom, Camilla, and Moose in turn. “You three with me.” To the other cops, he said, “Y’all are on the left flank.”
Cortez nodded at Dom. “You got point, Dominic Badass.”
Dom led the way to the right. Camilla and Moose fell in behind him along the wall. The F-13 soldiers on the rooftop continued exchanging gunfire with the officers across the road.
The distraction allowed Dom to move quickly, but he slid to a stop when a banger plummeted over the edge of the building and crunched into the sidewalk. His weapon clattered across the pavement and stopped a few feet away.
Dom moved past the dying man, leaving his jerking broken body to suffer. They didn’t have bullets to waste on these assholes.
As he continued, he saw tracer rounds ripping across the skyline. Military units were giving the gangs hell—units like the Desert Snakes. The sight fueled him with courage.
A torrent of gunfire snapped him back to the fight in front of him. The shots were coming from the other side of the building, where the other teams of officers were preparing to raid the front entrances.
Dom steeled himself as he came up to a door. He took a breath, grabbed the handle, and turned it, but it wouldn’t budge. Moose aimed the shotgun and waved everyone back.
He pulled the trigger and kicked the door in, pumping a new shell into the chamber as he rushed into the hallway.
“go, go!” Cortez yelled. He moved around Dom and Camilla to head in behind Moose.
A muzzle flash lit up the passage as they entered. Cortez took out a gangbanger waiting at the end of the hall. Now Moose was against the wall, firing as fast as he could pump the action on his shotgun.
Return fire riddled the ceiling, and Dom dropped to the filthy carpet soiled with blood. Smoke burned his lungs and filled his sinuses, but he pushed through, keeping low.
Sons of War Page 33