There is a war. It's not raging now. It'll come later. But you should know, know that it's coming so you understand. Because everywhere people are fighting each other in their own wars against each other. Wars started over disagreements or misunderstandings or conflicts of interest. This war will be different. Yes, it is a conflict of interest but the aim is different. I can't tell you the aim, though, but don't worry…you won't live long enough to see why it happened.
The electronic beats pumped through the buds in his ears. The base seemed to reverberate through his brain, into his body. Charging it. And he moved. Perfect movement. Like everything was his and it existed only for him. He was fast, even for someone covering every angle. And smooth. He moved at a fast walk, but his body was perfectly level the whole time, so his gun would never jolt, never miss.
Turn a corner
Cover left
Turn right
Double check flank
Target
Blam
Keep moving
People in the viewing room had mostly left. It was around 12.45am now so they'd all retired to their quarters. He'd started practicing on the gun course at around 9pm and hadn't stopped. As usual a large crowd had come to watch him practice, impressed by the display but unaware of how much better it could be. They'd gradually trickled out. Only two people remained, Tom Parsons and Penny Shephard, ex-mentor and girlfriend respectively. They stayed because they knew how he worked. With Drew there was practicing and there was the final product. Practicing was everyday drills and honing of skills. The final product was a feeling that would come over him, usually late at night when he could see exactly what he wanted to do and he felt a different kind of energy that could allow him to do it. This was practicing. In five minutes Drew's mind would finally come to complete focus, and nothing would distract him. This was the final product. It wasn't completely unpredictable though, one of his favourite songs was playing. As he finished the course the song began to come to its climax. He calmly took off his headphones but the music continued in his head, just that one crescendo powering, thundering in his ears.
Penny looked at Tom, her mouth was slightly open. They'd been waiting for months for this to happen, he hadn't done anything but practise for so long that they almost didn't know what to expect. Drew stepped up to the starting line again, gun pointed at the sliding door. He didn't move for what seemed like an eternity.
Then he reached for the switch.
"I love this part," Tom said.
Drew flicked the switch.
Lights blazed into life, shining on the course in an unpredictable strobe. The sliding door was ripped open and Drew flew.
In his head his feet didn't even touch the ground, it was one long glide. He was down the first corridor before the door finished sliding open, appearing not to cover his sides but the three of them knew better. He turned into the corridor on the right, barely looking to his left before he fluidly spun back, shot the cardboard terrorist in the eye and backed into an alcove. He didn't stop though, he hit the alcove wall, only to allow the two terrorists on either side to materialise and pull his pistol out, which allowed for both to be simultaneously cut down. The rest of the terrorists in the course were similarly ripped apart or smoothly brought down with single shots until Drew reached the end.
He felt so alive at that very moment it was almost supernatural. He could almost see everything that was happening around him at that very moment. Tom and Penny would be descending the stairs from the viewing room, Tom first of course, but Penny was who he wanted to see first. And even outside the gun course, in the adjacent building he knew Sergent Parry would be finalising the paperwork for his dismissal whilst Captain Harvey lay in his bed wide awake, hoping tomorrow would never come. Tom brought him back, slapping him on the back.
"That was amazing, I don't know how you do it," Tom said proudly, "I'm just glad I got to see it one more time before you left." Tom smiled again, a little sadly, and headed back to his quarters.
"Gnight Tom," Drew called out. Then he turned to Penny. They didn't speak, just hugged. When they released he let out a breath, like he'd held it since the last time this had happened.
"Well," he said nodding and staring off into space a little, "lets get to bed."
"Yeah," Penny said simply.
"Umm, actually I'll catch up to you, I just want to talk to Tom for a bit."
"Sure," she said. She stood up on her toes and kissed him and left.
Drew jogged out of the open exit, heading left, away from Penny, to the red-brick building adjacent to the gun course. He caught Tom on the stairwell and stopped him.
"Hey, if you ever want to see me it just takes a phone call and ill come by you know?" Drew said.
Tom looked down from the landing above.
"Of course," he said, shaking his head, "it's just…" he paused "there's no way I'm not going to miss seeing you, no matter how I put it in my head."
"All good things huh?" Drew said.
"Yeah…" Tom paused again "Anyways I'm kinda tired…"
"Oh, yeah, sorry bout that."
"Don't worry, I'm used to it," Tom replied, "Night."
"Gnight," Drew said again and walked back to his room.
Drew woke a little later that day, he was no longer needed for his morning drills so he slept in. Penny lay beside him, still asleep, she was leaving with him and so was allowed in his quarters. He lay there in the quiet, just breathing. For a few minutes.
800 metres away, across the barracks, a soldier was admitted into the colonel's office holding a dvd.
"It happened, I just reviewed the recording and on his final run it happened. It's so amazing, I can't stop watching it," the soldier said.
He passed the cd to the colonel who inserted it into the disk drive of his laptop and they both watched in awe as Drew ran the gun course for the last time, obliterating the previous speed and accuracy record and all in one perfectly fluid run.
The playback ended and the colonel sat, stunned.
"I think I'll watch that again."
Drew and Penny began to make their way down to the airport in the later hours of the dreary morning. He could see one company of soldiers doing weapons checks and preparing for the gun range. For some reason Drew preferred rainy conditions while he trained, it was all he could do not to drop Penny's hand and run off to join them. But he held firm and they continued on to the air strip.
The boarding was brief, they were the only passengers on the mammoth cargo plane. It was a Boeing C-17A Globemaster III, designed to carry anything from supply drops to helicopters. This one, however, was completely empty, except for the two pilots and the two passengers, who made their way up the loading ramp before it slammed closed behind them. Its 4 gigantic turbines roared into life and the plane began its take-off. The huge cargo plane barged down the runway as Penny and Drew sat, strapped into chairs on the sides of the cargo bay. Everything around them rattled and shook as the plane quickly picked up momentum.
A man stood in the conning tower, watching the drab green plane thunder down the runway, binoculars held to his face. His eyes were focused directly on the tyres of the plane. Seconds later the tyres left the runway and the man sent the initiation signal by interrupting radio static with his walkie-talkie by briefly tapping the 'talk' button.
Things happened very quickly after that. The company of men on the gun range, pretending to run checks on their equipment, snapped up from their routine and moved as one toward the red-brick building. It was late morning by then and there were soldiers everywhere on the barracks. A very poor tactical decision, one might've thought, but this was the time when a majority of the soldiers were on break or on their way to some training course. As such they were at their least organised, least armed and most vulnerable.
The company hit the stairwell of the red-brick building on the fly, leaving a small contingent to guard the door. Outside the bodies of 15 men were already lying in the mud, dead or dying from the lightning fast attack. They would be left there to lure others out into the open.
The point team pushed forwards into the building. Near-silent pops from the compressors on their guns helped them retain their element of surprise as they tore through two more soldiers, caught walking into the hallway unawares. Two men broke off from the main group, they moved quickly but not loud enough to be heard. They stepped into the secretary's office to the Colonel, quickly dispatching the shocked woman and bursting into the Colonel's office.
The Colonel sat behind his desk, pistol aimed at the door as the two soldiers entered the room. Had they not been wearing full body, all black fatigues and black gas masks he would have recognised them as corporals Taylor and Harper. Not that it mattered. He was dead before he could react. A high powered bullet from Harper's MP 5 hit him in the cheek, snapping his head back. Another bullet, from Taylor's, exploded through his chest, throwing him off his chair into a pathetic heap on the ground. They crossed the room, Harper checked the Colonel's pulse as Taylor disconnected the laptop. They left the room and caught up with the end of the point team within seconds and rejoined the attack.
Back at the entrance of the building the two men of the rear-guard stood at the double doors, guns trained out of the windows on the drenched path between the red-brick building and the soldiers' quarters. One of the men, Corporal Jensen, spotted movement on the side of the other building.
"Two tangos at 10 o'clock," Jensen said as he took aim at the two soldiers.
It appeared as if they had been outside with their weapons when the attack had started and they were trying to re-enter the building to warn the others. Of course, they had remained as silent as possible for the moment to avoid detection, for which Jensen was ever grateful.
"Soon as they leave the corner execute them, I'll take the first one, Holland, you take the other."
Holland nodded and took aim. Moments later the two soldiers cautiously made their move. Holland and Jensen held, waiting for the second man to come into the open. Suddenly the glass window smashed and Holland fell backwards, blood spraying all over Jensen's goggles. Jensen, for his part hit the deck blinded, desperately wiping the blood away. He crawled over to Holland. Holland was dead, the bullet had torn through his neck and killed him instantly. Jensen calmly keyed his throat-mike.
"Holland is K.I.A, sniper is somewhere around the top level of the sleeping quarters. I'm guessing Parsons."
Above him, on the fourth floor now, Harper broke away from the point team again and ran back to the staircase slinging his MP 5 over his shoulder and taking off his backpack. He quickly assembled his R700P sniper rifle with practiced ease.
"Cmon Tom, where are you," he said dangerously as his scope swept the upper levels of the building.
Before long the old man unleashed another round at the rear-guard, giving himself away. Harper zeroed in on Tom's face, this was personal. He even smiled as he squeezed the trigger. The bullet sailed out through the open window of the admin building and hit Tom squarely in the temple as he reloaded sending him sprawling lifelessly onto the ground. Harper then turned back from the window and repacked his rifle.
"Sniper is down, confirmed as Tom Parsons," he reported.
"Understood," Taylor said over the radio, "now, join up with the rear guard and assist if needed."
Harper moved out, hustling down the staircase to Jensen. He took up a position covering the grounds from the smashed window.
"Report," Harper ordered.
Even though in the army they were officially both corporals they had been assigned new ranks by Taylor, as he saw fit. For this, Jensen despised Taylor. He of course believed in their cause, but Taylor had taken to his role as Captain a little too enthusiastically. And so Taylor had of course assigned Harper as his second in command of their company even though Jensen felt he was nowhere near the soldier he was himself.
"Two tangos entered the soldier's quarters a little under a minute ago," Jensen said, itching to hunt them down, "do we follow?"
Harper looked down at his digital watch, the numbers ticked past 11.17am.
"Negative, 2nd company should be active now, they'll take care of it."
Jensen cursed him out in his head, Harper was just being lazy and it was leaving so many holes in their plan it was starting to resemble a leaky kettle.
High above them the huge cargo plane bearing Drew and Penny continued to ascend.
"Isn't it a waste to use such a huge plane just to carry two people?" Penny said looking over at Drew.
For his part Drew had been wondering the same thing ever since they'd walked on to the airstrip and caught sight of the behemoth air-freighter.
"It's possible that they're going to use this plane to carry something back to the base after we're dropped off at …." He replied.
"And why are we in the cargo hold anyway, they usually have better passenger quarters near the cockpit," Penny went on.
Then, as if aware of their complaints the plane began to level out.
"It'll be over shortly anyway," Drew said patting her on the leg, "Actually, now that we're level I might send Tom a quick text."
He pulled out his mobile phone and turned it back on. The phone loaded quickly and suddenly buzzed in Drew's hand. It was a text from Tom, sent three minutes ago.
It read: 2 companies have betrayed us. They are moving thru the barracks killing everyone. Call for help, v poor resistance. Wont last long.
By now the plane was only 10 minutes flight back to the base so Drew unclipped himself and ran for the cockpit. Penny sat in the chair, utterly confused by Drew's sudden reaction to his phone. Meanwhile Drew had made it to the cockpit and started hammering on the door. Inside, the pilots looked at each other alarmed.
"Christ, I bet someone called him asking for help," the co-pilot said.
"How can he know, we timed it so he wouldn't be able to receive calls during the opening minutes of the attack?" the pilot said.
"I don't know, maybe a text? Who cares! We need to subdue him before he finds us both out," the co-pilot concluded, "I'll open the door and you tase him."
They took their positions at the door, the pilot training his taser on the door.
Outside the door Drew looked around for an intercom to communicate with the pilots. A small red light caught his eye on the left of the door and he turned just as the cockpit door flew open and a taser lead whizzed by his face. He whipped around as the co-pilot released the door and lunged at him. Just then the plane hit an air pocket in the cloudy sky causing Drew to lose his balance and fall against the wall while the co-pilot flew past him into the opposing wall. The pilot, however, maintained the attack throwing a punch at Drew. It connected painfully, and caused him to slam his head hard on the wall behind him. He recovered quickly though and parried the next blow aimed at his throat. Still slightly disorientated from the initial punch Drew desperately fought off the pilot, groggily throwing weak punches of his own. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the co-pilot recover from his fall. This was a losing battle already and in this state two hostiles were more than he could handle.
With that he blocked another of the pilot's attacks and bodily pushed the man away from him, causing him to stumble but not fall. Drew looked around quickly for something to throw, his phone was still in his pocket so he pulled it out. The pilot was moving quickly towards him again just as Drew flung his phone at him, causing him to flinch and raise his hands. This was the opening he was looking for. Drew ran forwards and kicked the man in the chest, just as the co-pilot re-entered the fray, grabbing him from behind. Drew threw a blind punch behind his head and connected with the co-pilot's face sending him sprawling. He turned back to check on the pilot just as the man came at him again, only this time Drew was better prepared. He threw a hard right-hand punch at the pilot who, with the momentum of his charge was brutally clothes-lined and knocked out instantly. Drew turned back to the co-pilot and picked him up by the neck, holding him against the wall.
"What the hell are you doing?" he said.
"Subduing you, you've gone hysterical and we can't have you causing a commotion on the plane," the co-pilot replied thinking on his feet.
"Bullshit. There's an attack on the barracks and you know about it."
The co-pilot, however, remained silent staring back defiantly.
"Get back in there and turn us around," Drew said hauling him back into the cockpit.
"No," the co-pilot said simply, almost smirking.
Drew, however, was prepared for this and left the cockpit only to return a second later holding the unconscious pilot by the collar of his shirt. He pulled a knife from the man's belt and held it over the pilot's upper arm, near his armpit. Then he plunged it into the man's artery causing blood to spurt out in a bloody fountain.
"Ok, now you can either help me and get your friend some much needed medical attention or you can sit there smirking at me until he starts resembling a deflated beach-ball."
The co-pilot swore.
"Can you at least put some pressure on the wound?" he said, admitting defeat.
Drew ripped a strip from the pilots own shirt and tied it to his bleeding arm then turned back to the new pilot.
"Do you have a P.A. system connected to the cargo bay?" Drew asked.
"Yeah, here," the co-pilot said, sounding scarily like a disgruntled teenager, and handing Drew the mike.
"Penny, this is Drew. Unstrap yourself and come up to the cockpit, please."
A minute later Penny stepped into the cockpit.
"What's going on?" she said, noticing the unconscious man with the bleeding arm.
Drew explained as much as he knew whilst the pilot set the new course for the barracks airstrip. In very little time they began to descend. Drew looked intensely out of the windshield as the barracks came into view. Nothing looked out of place, no burning buildings from first glance. Suddenly out of the soldiers quarters a squad of no less than ten men dressed in black combat gear hustled into the red admin building. Then the co-pilot chimed in again as the plane landed.
"Can I just say that for what it's worth, we're not the bad guys? And considering who you are, sure, you might take a couple of our men down before your subdued but just think about what your doing before you go off and do it. Our work could save the w…" he managed to say before Drew knocked him out with his pistol.
"What about him?" Penny asked indicating the bleeding pilot.
"He'll die soon," Drew said, unemotional.
Penny looked horrified but she kept silent. She didn't understand why he was being so cold but this was his area of expertise. They left the plane via the cargo bay and began jogging for the barracks.
Just as they reached the edge of the airstrip and the start of the path to the barracks Drew stopped. He needed a moment to think. So these people were assaulting the barracks but not destroying it. That meant soft targets, people, would be most at risk because they wanted something or someone in the barracks and anyone in their way was collateral. But where could Penny go? They could be anywhere on the base, even in the conning tower, so hiding was a risk. This was so much harder than everything else he'd ever done during his military career. Babysitting wasn't unusual but Penny wasn't some other official-type with a bounty on her head, like all the ones he'd protected before. This was so much more personal. And what about Tom? Why were these people doing this?
Sometimes he felt like all the hurt inflicted on innocent people was crushing down on him like it was his burden… his responsibility but he was only one man, who would listen? His last mission had been the turning point, up till then he'd tried to make a difference being the good guy and doing everything in his power to help people but it wasn't enough. He'd been tasked with assassinating a Somalian man who had been trafficking arms through his country. The man had run into a family's home but taken a wrong turn and was cornered in the living room. The terrified family clung to each other as Drew carefully made his way through the house. Slowly, very slowly he peeked around the corner. The man stood in the open, but Drew couldn't shoot him. In his arms was a small boy, weeping tears in streams down his small face. He was using the child as a human shield. The ensuing fire ended with the child surviving, but the image had been burned in Drew's mind forever. Every time he had looked at a gun he felt sick, and it was only in the past few months he had tried to use one again. In fact it was only last night that he'd been able to briefly block out the image and focus solely on shooting.
But it was here again, this crushing feeling of futility and pain, which now threatened his own friends.
"I think you should come with me," he said to Penny finally, "just please follow everything I tell you to do."
His eyes pleaded with her, she'd never seen him look at her like that. It certainly didn't comfort her that he was visibly troubled. Then he started moving again, motioning her to follow. They stayed low and made for the wire fence of the barracks. Peering ahead past the gates Drew saw the red-brick administration building and the soldier's quarters slowly materialise out of the rain. He pulled Penny under a pine tree that stood alone on the side of the path. She was holding up well for her part, breathing heavily but managing well.
'We're going to run for the admin building as soon as we pass the gates. Ready?'
Penny looked back at him and nodded.
CHAPTER 2: Learnt with Smith and Wesson
He feels no emotion…
He hit the next roof on the fly, feet pounding hard into the cement though no sound could be heard. Not because it wasn't there but because he couldn't be heard. He wasn't allowed to be heard. He ran hard but kept his head low, it didn't matter though, anyone looking up at the roofs wouldn't have seen him. They weren't allowed to. He pulled his gun from its holster. The warehouse was in sight.
'200 meters and closing', came over the earpiece, the voice was calm and emotionless, almost digital.
He could already hear gunfire. He ran on.
'100 meters' the voice came again.
In the admin building Jensen rejoined team 1 again as they arrived back at ground level. They hustled out of the building to the West side where Harper spotted their next objective, a small bomb shelter door. Pointing it out to the others he removed a piece of C2 from a pouch in his vest and placed it on the lock of the door. The contained blast had barely subsided before the team was breaching the door into the tunnel system beneath the admin building.
Duncan James