Chapter Two

More than meets the eye

'If you're going through hell, keep going.' - Winston Churchill.

Gabe caught up with his squad near the end of Cypress Street. They were holed up in the ruins of a building that overlooked the airport. When he got inside, he hunched down behind sergeant Matheson, who, along with the lieutenant, was busily scanning the airport with binoculars for any signs of life.

"Took your time," said the sergeant, without looking around.

"Had to take a leak." This brought a snort from the sergeant; the lieutenant made no comment.

Popping the barrel of his sniper rifle on the windowsill next to the sergeant's head, Gabe sighted down his scope for a better look at the scene before them. With the naked eye, he could see that except for two plane wrecks, the runway was clear. Through his scope, the terminal came into sharper focus. It had mostly collapsed and had planes scatted around it like so much jetsam. One aircraft had been flipped onto its back and was half buried in the terminal itself, the tail sticking up like a cross over a mass grave.

"I got movement." Both the lieutenant and the sergeant turned around, took notice of where he was aiming, and then turned their binoculars onto the same general area.

"Where exactly?" asked the lieutenant.

"Far left building, ground floor just right of the nosecone of that Lufthansa jet," replied Gabe.

"I don't see – no, wait, there is something…. Ah, lost it!" said the lieutenant. 'You still got it corporal?"

"Yes, sir….right…in my…crosshairs."

"Is it metal?"

"Can't tell, too far into the shadows, but…no red eyes that I can see."

Lowering her binoculars, Sergeant Matheson turned around and sat on the floor so her head was under the windowsill. Looking at the lieutenant she said, "Could be a skin job or it could be our contact. Only one way to know for sure."

Thinking it over, the lieutenant came to a decision. "Alright, take Santiago and check it out. Foster, keep a bead on the target. If it so much as twitches the wrong way take it out!"

"Yes sir!"

The lieutenant turned to the mortar crew. "Sergeant Mullins! The room next door doesn't have a roof; I want you to set up a mortar to give covering fire should we need it."

As everyone started to move, Santiago came up behind Gabe, "So, how far do you reckon?"

Gabe checked the rangefinder attached to his scope. "Three quarters of a mile, give or take."

"Darn! That's a long walk in the open without any cover."

"Here." Without taking his eye of his target, Gabe rummaged in a pack hanging on his side, finally found what he was looking for, then held up a rag covered object for his friend to take. "Been keeping this for a special occasion."

Taking the object, Santiago unwrapped it to reveal a dark green steel ball. "Frag grenade! Nice!"

"For just in case…but if not, I want it back!" Chuckling, Santiago tapped Gabe's helmet in acknowledgement, then followed the sergeant outside.

The run from the twisted metal chain link fence that surrounded LAX to the wrecked airliner sprawled on the first runway was the longest sergeant Barbara Matheson had been in the open since she was twelve years old. She was acutely aware of a pair of HK's patrolling about three miles out to the east and kept expecting them to turn and attack her at any moment. She turned when Santiago came up behind her, breathing hard.

"You're out of shape."

"That's easy for you to say, you're at least ten years younger than me." Santiago bent over with his hands on his knees and spat at the ground.

Matheson's lips twitched up at the corners. "So you're saying you're getting old."

"Hey!" Santiago straitened up and wiped the back of his hand across his face. He then nodded at the terminal. "So how do you want to do this?"

The sergeant's eyes flicked from left to right as she looked over the building before saying, " The grass is high. That'll give us some cover, but there's no point beating around the bush. This is a perfect place to hole up. There is no way anyone can sneak up without being seen - too much open ground and no real cover.

"Besides, whoever's there already knows we're here. If it's our contact, fine. If not…."

Santiago finished her sentence "…we're already good as dead!"

The sergeant nodded before looking around the end of the fuselage to watch the HK's until they were finally out of sight. "Okay, let's go!" Matheson took off at a dead run straight for the nearest building. Santiago took a deep breath before following her.

"They made it to the terminal." The lieutenant was keeping Gabe updated just in case he had to switch targets quickly. "They're moving towards the target now."

"Something's not right. How many people are we supposed to meet?"

"I was told we'd meet our contact here. They didn't say how many, but the impression I got was only one."

"The target hasn't moved and they must have seen our people coming." Gabe was worried; instinct told him he was looking at the wrong target. "I'm changing my field of fire." Opening his left eye, Gabe swung his gun until he had the sergeant in view. Then he started to check just in front of their line of advance. "Got movement!"

Santiago had turned round and was walking backwards so he could check their rear when he suddenly bumped into the unexpectedly motionless sergeant. Turning around to find out why she had stopped, he was confronted by five heavily armed and camouflaged soldiers, all pointing their weapons at them.

A man, presumably the leader, upon seeing that he had their undivided attention, stepped forward and said, "Stagecoach!"

Quickly licking her lips, the sergeant replied, "Stardust!"

The leader nodded confirmation of the correct code. "One moment please, do not move." He waved a sixth individual forward out of the shadows. This man had a large German shepherd on a leash.

At the dogs' lack of reaction, the leader called, "Clear!" and the other soldiers put up their arms. "We had to be sure." Matheson smiled, understanding, then indicated the leader's chest. "Us too!" The leader looked down at the red dot that had been hovering over his chest from the moment he had revealed himself.

He looked up and gave a lopsided grin as Matheson waved the all clear signal and the red dot disappeared. "Welcome to firebase Alpha."

Gabe brought up the rear with Kelly as the squad made the dash in evenly spaced pairs to the terminal building. When he reached the nearest passenger-loading arm, he fell to his knees. There were spots floating before his eyes and although he was gasping in huge lung-fulls of air, it felt like he was suffocating.

Kelly, her voice full of concern, asked, "Are you all right?"

Gabe nodded as the feeling of a steel band around his chest started to lessen. "I'll be fine in a sec."

Gabe was suddenly raked with a fit of coughing, which after a moment subsided. Looking up, he said "See, I'm okay." Noticing Kelly's eyes widen in horror, he asked, "What's the matter?" She could only point to his mouth.

Putting his fingers to his lips, Gabe became aware that he could taste blood. When his fingers came away bloody, he sighed with the understanding of why he had been so tired lately.

Cleaning himself up as best he could, Gabe said to Kelly, "Let's keep this between us. No need to worry the others, alright?" Kelly, her eyes full of sadness nodded and Gabe patted her on the shoulder in appreciation. "C'mon, let's go before they send a search party after us!"

After being cleared by the dog, Gabe and Kelly were taken to where the rest of the squad was waiting. They were still at tarmac level under the main terminal building, where weeds and other plant life were slowly taking back the place. It was hard to believe this was once one of the busiest airports in America.

They were lead to a steel door so covered in rust and pealing paint that Gabe could barley read the "Authorized personal only" written on it. Despite its condition, the door opened smoothly and silently, revealing a steel gantry and staircase leading below ground.