Getting a bit of action in on this one. Jon's keeping busy, and you know he wouldn't have it any other way.
I want to say thanks to all the non-logged-in reviews - the reviews are catnip! I'm going to beg especially hard for some reviews on this chapter - it has a lot of chaotic action happening and I'm not sure it's going to be comprehensible to anyone but me. It makes sense in my head! If you can't make heads or tails of this chapter, let me know. I'll try to get my stuff together for the next time! (and yes, there will be more action - it's Jon!)
March 15, 2009, Mogadishu, Somalia
"Beware the Ides of March, indeed."
Jon was watching far too many people with guns for his comfort. Most uncomfortable was that many of them were ostensibly good guys, but scuttlebutt had it that there might be a few men of questionable loyalty here.
His first personal protection job for Blackbriar was a doozy. "Which is why they want people like me," he mused. "Sucks to be me."
His charge, Jaques Somlier, was arranging a deal with the president of the Transitional Federal Government. The problem was that the TFG barely controlled the country, and the capital here was even less controlled than Somalia usually was since the Islamic Courts Union was still fighting fiercely just outside the city.
He was getting itchy. Something was wrong. The streets had been slowly clearing of people for no reason that Jon could determine.
"I'm getting a bad feeling," he spoke into his mic. "The streets are too empty - something's going on."
The protection team was led by Lars Bergstrom - a detailed leader and a good guy in Jon's eyes. A former Marine with twelve years of experience in high-risk personal security. He hadn't spent months in Africa running spec ops, like Jon had, though.
"It's the mid-day lull, Jon. Relax."
Jon didn't care for being the low man on the team, but he could follow orders. He also wasn't going to blindly follow them, though.
Two men, in addition to Lars and him, were active on the team right now. Mickey had the armored car, Sean was outside the door to the Prime's meeting, while Jon and Lars were watching the building.
"I'm going to head up to the second floor to get a better view."
They were both patrolling the first floor of the ratty government building, keeping a counter-rotation path that let them regularly check the entire building. Thirty or so government functionaries were working in the building along with the President and his entourage.
A dozen armed men, soldiers in the TFG, were standing around in the lobby, so Jon and Lars had done what they weren't - keeping watch on the rest of the building. They were part of his concern - the likelihood of enemy sympathizers in the TFG ranks was high.
"Roger, I'm crossing the first floor, back right now," came Lars' reply.
Jon took the stairs at an easy jog, his weapon in hand, then circled to the front of the building.
Twenty feet higher didn't change the view much - dusty, colorful, dilapidated, and empty. No cars were using the road, and only a few people were walking the street.
A woman, covered head to toe by a burka, caught his attention. She had just walked past a stall and stopped. She looked around and scurried out of sight.
"Something is going down. Front of building. Civs seen hurrying out of way suddenly. Can't tell what's causing it."
Several seconds passed, and Jon was about to re-emphasize his observation before Lars' voice came across his ear plug. "Gotcha. Mickey, bring the car around to the back and prep for a fast exit. Sean, as soon as the car arrives, be ready to interrupt the prime and get him moving."
It was too late, though. Seconds later, Jon saw two men holding rockets step around opposite sides of the block.
"Rockets incoming," he shouted into the mic as he pulled his MP7 to his shoulder. He fired through the glass of the window at one of them a split second before he fired. The shots coming close made the man jerk and the rocket sailed into the sky. The second rocket was better aimed and shot out directly toward the front of the building.
It impacted with an explosion on the front doors, turning them into a storm of shards that shredded the soldiers and civilians lounging about the lobby. Jon felt the building tremble and vaguely heard screams of civilians. He turned and aimed at the man who had fired that RPG and fired a short burst.
The man's leg suddenly jerked off to the side as he tumbled over.
At that moment, four trucks filled with soldiers came roaring down the street toward Jon's building.
"Four trucks of enemy incoming," Jon yelled, into the mic. "Get Prime out of here!"
He fired several bursts at the closest truck and it suddenly veered off to the side, out of control, the front windshield shattered.
He ducked and ran back toward the stairs, and a second later the window he had been at exploded as the soldiers returned his fire. Wildly inaccurate, but with that many people shooting, it didn't much matter. Fortunately he was already thirty feet back and vaulting the railing to land half way down the stairs. Another vault and he was back in the first floor lobby.
He hadn't been able to do moves like that for ten years. At least not if he wanted to walk the next day. "There are advantages to a young body like this." The thought flitted across his mind as he unlatched two grenades. They were only flash-bangs, but they would slow down the soldiers who were beginning to jump from the trucks and charge toward the gaping area where the door used to be. A quick pair of tosses and the grenades were heading out the door.
"Prime in tow. Heading toward the back for pickup."
Sean's voice came over the mic and Jon turned to head back to join them. A quick glimpse of something caught his eye.
Black. Covered with debris and dust enough to almost hide it entirely. Lars.
Jon instead charged across the room, jumping over the bodies of the soldiers. He jerked Lars up and into a fireman's carry, not bothering to check if he was alive or dead. It wasn't stressed so much in the bodyguard world, but Jon couldn't leave him behind. Most of the company was ex-military and the ethos was still there - don't leave 'em behind. Even if it weren't, Jon couldn't leave someone behind.
He staggered across the room, and felt as much as heard the bullets begin to fly in the room as the attackers began to fill the room with bullets before they began their next rush. Jack felt something slam into his back like a hammer. He stumbled but kept going, his vest's back plate had done its job.
He made it through the hall, smacking Lars' feet on the walls as he lumbered toward the back exit. Several Somali civilians were running through the halls, trying to get out as well. He saw the last of the Somali president's guard exit the back door, but didn't see the Prime anywhere. He hoped Sean had gotten him out already. He hadn't gone past the meeting room on his way here to double-check.
He was relieved as he edged out the back door with his burden to see the armored car parked there, with Sean pushing the Prime into the back through the passengers side door.
Mickey, the driver, must have said something because Sean looked back at them and waved for them to hurry up as he got in and pushed the Prime over to give plenty of room.
"I'm hurrying! I'm hurrying," muttered Jack as he charged across the street, only able to do a lumbering jog with nearly two hundred and fifty extra pounds on his shoulders.
He heard shots off to his left but didn't bother to look. He found a little more speed, though. He dropped Lars to the side and thrust the limp weight halfway into the open door. Sean grasped Lars' vest and yanked as Jon picked up the man's legs and pushed.
Something slammed into his left arm and pulled him around. He could see a half dozen of the attackers shooting from the end of the building their vehicle was facing. The president's guard was pushing the president into his own armored limo and returned fire, forcing the attackers to dive for cover, but not before Jon felt something burn into his side and he spun around with the impact.
"Jon!"
Jon could hear the voice yell his name as he fell to the ground.
He hated getting shot. It wasn't a lethal wound, he could tell, but it still hurt.
Worst of all his left arm, wouldn't respond which made, "Umphf" he grunted as he half lifted himself up to his knees. Which made getting up a real bitch of a ... "Aagh," he groaned as he made it to his feet, using his right arm to pull himself up with the car door. A real bitch of a problem.
He was panting from the exertion of pulling himself up more than from the exertion of the run before it. He staggered into the dark interior as a bullet hit the inside of the open door where he had been leaning a moment before. He could feel Sean yank him further into the car while yelling "Go! Go! Go!"
The car's tires spun as it spun in a tight circle and roared down the back street, the acceleration and turn throwing Jon onto his wounded side. "Gah!" The inarticulate yell escaping his lips before he bit it back down. It wasn't the first time. He could overcome it.
The car suddenly slammed on its breaks, rolling Jon again, but this time he was able to keep the goan inside.
"They closed off this end," he heard Mickey shout from the front seat.
"Back up! Out the other end!"
Jack and the others hadn't particularly liked this meeting place for this reason, among others - the back only had the one street running along it, giving them only two options to exit. Which, of course, meant an enemy only had to block two routes.
The car threw itself into reverse, but with the warning Jon used the thrust to get himself on his feet. Well, crouched in the back with a foot on the floorboard and a knee on Lars' body. He hoped the guy would make it, but for all Jon knew at the moment, he was dead already.
He tugged on his gun's strap, pulling it up to his good arm and pointing it out the door that was slamming shut and bouncing open with the movement. The inside of the door looked sort of ripped up and he assumed it had messed up the latching system. Oh well.
The president's limo was already reaching the intersection they were now approaching, having driven the attackers that had been there back under cover. Part way through, though, a truck impacted it in a classic t-bone collision. The armored limo spun a little, but stayed upright and managed to keep going down the road, leaving the truck partially blocking the intersection behind it.
Mickey slammed the brakes and spun the wheel as their car skidded backwards around the truck and continued down the road away from the government building, following after the president's limo.
"Hold on!"
The warning barely registered and he felt a hand grab his vest from behind when the car braked again and spun until it was going forward. If Sean hadn't been holding on, Jon would have fallen completely out. As it was, only his upper body fell out, slamming his left side - again!
Jon swore and yelled out through the pain, "Don't you let go, soldier!"
Through the clouds of dust kicked up behind the car, he saw a truck following them, this one with a heavy machine gun mounted on its top. Waves of pain comparable to a goa'uld pain stick was burning in his side as the bumps of the road kept slamming his wounded arm and side against the car, but he managed to pull his gun with one hand to his shoulder, aimed back toward the following truck.
Accuracy would be shit, but maybe he'd get lucky.
The first burst probably hit the road, but Jon kept firing, trying to ride the bumps and the pain. Burst after burst of gunfire sprayed down the road, mostly hitting the road and buildings. He could see the gun on top of the truck shooting at them, but while it was much better braced than Jon, it still wasn't easy to aim with the truck's bouncing.
Jon couldn't have guessed how many more shots he had, but it couldn't have been many, when he suddenly saw one of the tires on the truck blow out. The truck veered from side to side, the driver frantically trying to gain control. He successfully brought it to a stop without flipping, but that was more than enough for the two armored cars to leave it behind in the dust.
A whoop of celebration came from the front, "You did it! Sean, I'm making a right, pull him in!"
A second later the car made a sharp right and Sean used the centrifugal force to help him pull Jon back in.
"Damn Jon! Nice job! Let's see how Lars is doing."
"Five minutes to safe house, Alpha. The rest of the team is ready and waiting."
Jon relaxed a little, the prime was safe and they'd be fine once they got in.
Sean leaned over him to check on on Lars.
A few seconds he spoke into his mic. "Lars has a strong heartbeat, but is unconscious. Lots of bleeding from the head. Jon has been shot in left arm and side. Get medical ready."
"We'll be waiting for you," came the reply.
Sean grinned at Jon.
"Whew! That was a busy one! What a blast!"
Jon chuckled through the pain. "Yeah it was. Yeah it was."
By God, he loved this shit! It was good to be back in action.
