Iceman was the first to awake in the wreck of what had been his SUV. His vision was blurred, his ears rang and his whole body ached. He looked around and saw that the whole world looked sideways.
'No, the world isn't sideways.' The part of his brain that was still rational despite the haze said. "You are."
That seemed to bring him out of his stupor as he tried to undo his seatbelt, to no avail. Quickly ruling out the slim possibility that the shootout at the intersection and this crash WEREN'T related, Iceman knew that he had to get out of the car and fend off whoever was likely still after them. He then pulled his knife out of it's sheath on his plate carrier and cut the seat belt, freeing himself. Once he had enough of his balance back to do so, Iceman stood up inside the overturned vehicle and began checking everyone else for pulse. Satisfied once he found everyone still breathing, he manuevered himself out of the overturned SUV.
Iceman managed to get out just in time to see multiple SUVs, all black with dark tinted windows pull up, just like the men that the team had fought at the intersection. Only the men that stepped out didn't look like run of the mill gangbangers. Their clothing looked sensible for a tactical situation. They had body armor, which told Iceman that they were ready for a fight. Worst of all, they were carry assault rifles, some of which even had attachments, though he didn't get a very good look at them as the men were moving between the cars, suing them for cover while othes covered them.
'Great' That same voice in his head from earlier said. 'First it was gangbangers, now it's commandos.'
With no better ideas at the time and no chance to go for his long gun given the rapidly approaching, heavily armed unknowns moving on the crash site, Iceman raised his HWS-45 and began putting rounds in the direction of the attackers. As shaken up as his minds still was, not to mention the ache in his body from the crash, keeping their heads down was the best he could do until he either recovered or the rest of the team got into the fight.
Preacher came to at the sound of distant pops. He slowly opened his eyes, but shut them just as fast as the light hurt his eyes. After a moment, he forced his eyes back open and began trying to take in the situation. One thing that grabbed his attention was the fact that his right arm was resting against the window. He then realized that his left was across his chest. It didn't click that he was in an overturned vehicle until he looked up towards the windshield. Then, like a hammer in his brain, all the sound in the world came flooding back to his ears.
Gunfire.
Whereas part of his mind wanted to just lay down and let whatever was going to happen take its course, his inner Marine kicked in and started looking for a way out of the truck.
'Unless you've got superpowers or some s**t, you'll get yourself killed without a rifle.' The voice in Preacher's mind bellowed, sounding a lot like one of his Drill Instructors from Boot Camp.
He got up and turned his attention towards the rear compartment of the SUV. He reached over and grabbed his SCR-16 and Iceman's Stoner PD-556.
'Oh, f**k.' Preacher thought to himself. It was the first time that he'd thought of his team leader, he looked at the front passenger seat.
"BOSS!" He called out.
"Good to see you, Sleeping Beauty." Iceman replied, his voice sounding groggy.
"I'm comin' out." Preacher said, climbing his tall, muscular body out through the sunroof, both men's rifles in his hands.
"What do we got?" He asked.
"Multiple shooters, just up the block. Well armed, moving smart." Iceman replied before emptying another mag from his pistol and taking his rifle from Preacher.
Once he checked the opposite direction to ensure that they weren't being flanked, Preacher glanced back into the SUV.
"I'll take over here. You get them out." He said as he placed a hand on Iceman's shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
The two men swapped places, Preacher wating no time firing rounds in the direction of the gunmen, though he had to take cover as some of them were trying to suppress him so that their buddies could push up further. It was textbook fire and maneuver in an occupied urban zone.
'Just like Fallujah.' Preacher thought to himself as he reloaded his rifle.
Meanwhile, Iceman was still clearing the cobwebs from his mind when he climbed back into the SUV and looked over Rae.
Frankie's eyes fluttered open as she felt something shake her body. Suddenly, she was back in Sudan, her breath heavy in her chest as she stared unseeing into the space of the SUV. Her brain was foggy from the impact and it took her a moment to regain her senses. The sound of gunfire registered quite quickly however, causing her to move. One of her hands went to the pistol on her hip as she prepared to resist capture. Whoever was trying to get her out of the seat had their hand on her wrist, meaning that she couldn't draw the pistol. She decided to use her other hand and try to punch whoever it was.
She looked up at the bastard's face as she tried to look exactly where she was swinging. That was when she realized that she was face to face with Iceman. He grabbed his knife and cut her out before speaking. Given the sounds of the gunfight outside reverberating within the vehicle, it was more like yelling.
"GET YOUR PHONE AND CALL FOR BACKUP!" He screamed.
Frankie nodded in understanding as Iceman cut her out of the seatbelt and helped her to her feet. She immediately began searching the floor, or rather, the side of the SUV for her phone as well as a weapon. She picked up the Sumachine Gun that Tex had pulled off of the dead ganbanger at the first ambush. She gave it and the 30-round magazine in it a quick look over. Satisfied that it was in working condition, she checked Mendoza for a pulse. Once she found it, she turned to look for her phone, which she found, although the screen was badly damaged and it didn't seem respond at all when she pressed the power button on the side. Letting out a small curse, Frankie slipped the phone into her pocket before turning to Iceman
"WE NEED TO GET MENDOZA CLEAR OF THIS." She said. Iceman simply shook his head in response.
"NOT AN OPTION. THE VIC'S ARMORED. IT SHOULD HOLD UNTIL WE PUSH THESE S**THEADS BACK" He replied.
"OH S**T. WE GOT HOSTILES, OTHER END OF THE STREET. I NEED HELP HERE." Preacher said over the earpiece.
"I'LL GET TEX." Frankie volunteered.
Not having the time to argue, Iceman climbed out of the sunroof and began holding off shooters that had been coming from the other end of the block from where the team had crashed.
Frankie looked over the unconscious body of Tex as he limply hung from his seat, held up only by the seatbelt. She checked him for a pulse and gently smacked him on the side of the face to wake him up
The former Green Beret came to in the overturned SUV and surveyed his surroundings. When he saw Iceman shout that he was reloading, that set off the signal in Tex's head that he needed to get into the fight. He tried to climb out of his seat, but found himself held back by the seatbelt. He reached down for the knife that he kept tucked in his boot, but felt a surge of pain in his left shoulder as he did so. He let out a scream as the pain made him recoil away from the blade. That scream caused Frankie to lean over to him.
"COWBOY, YOU GOOD?" She asked.
"I THINK MY F**KIN' SHOULDER'S OUTTA PLACE. I GOTTA CUT MYSELF OUT OF THE SEAT." Tex replied.
Frankie wasted no time pulling her knife from it's sheath on her plate carrier and cutting the strap, careful to help him to his feet and putting the semi-automatic shotgun in his hand.
"NOW MOVE IT. WE NEED EVERY GUN IN THIS FIGHT." She said, earning a nod from the man.
Once Tex made his way out the sunroof, he slammed his shoulder into the SUV, putting it back into place. He then looked just past his teammates who were holding back the horde so as to identify what they were shooting at.
"THE F**K HAPPENED?" He asked.
"AMBUSH." Iceman replied simply.
"THESE GUYS GOT A REAL HARD-ON FOR MENDOZA, HUH?" Tex asked.
"HONESTLY, I'M STARTING TO THINK THAT THESE GUYS WANT US DEAD OFF OF GENERAL PRINCIPLE." Preacher said.
Tex looked over at Frankie - who had gotten her plate carrier back from Mendoza - as she climbed out of the wrecked SUV when Preacher screamed.
"MG!" He exclaimed as he dived towards the ground.
Out of instinct, Steve wrapped his arms around Frankie and took her to the ground, placing himself on top of her in an effort to shield her from shrapnel and ricochets from the machine gun's hail of bullets as it made a deeply unsettling sound as it slammed into the armored undercarriage and tore up the glass store fronts and stone entrances around it.
When the machine gun stopped firing for a moment, Frankie crouch-walked to another car just a head of the crash site, aimed her SMG and fired one round, striking an exposed portion of the gunner's head as he crouched behind a car just across from them. Then she felt the small kick as the bolt of the gun lock back, indicating that it was empty. She let out a small curse as she reloaded the weapon. She didn't have many magazines for the weapon and this fight didn't show any signs of ending anytime soon.
"LAST MAG!" She called out.
Just then, a buzz came from Frankie's pocket. She pulled out the cell phone, seeing that the screen was lit up, albeit cracked and discolored. That didn't matter as she tapped the phone icon and dialed 911.
She didn't have the time to actually tell the dispatcher anything as the fire picked up. The attackers may have lost their belt fed machine gun, but they were keeping up the blistering tempo of fire. She had to hope that they could triangulate their position and get backup to them fast.
"NO TELLIN' WHEN THEY SHOW UP." She said firing in semi-automatic to conserve ammo and keep back the enemy.
"CHANGIN' MAG" Preacher shouted as he loaded another mag of ammo. "WHATEVER WE'RE GONNA DO, WE NEED TO DO IT RIGHT F**KIN' NOW!"
As she fired, the bolt on the SMG locked open again. She wasted no time switching to the pistol on her hip. They way things were looking, they were going to be overrun. She thought for a moment before a small smile crossed her face as she tapped Iceman.
"YOU RUNNIN' ON A FULL TANK!?" She asked.
Her plan was to draw in the attackers and blow up the SUV, taking out a large portion of the attackers or at least pushing them back long enough to find an escape.
Iceman didn't like the plan much, as evidenced by the look on his face.
"DON'T WORRY!" She said. "THE GOVERNMENT WILL PAY FOR IT!"
"I'M ALL FOR A BARBECUE, BUT WHERE THE HELL ARE WE SUPPOSED TO FALL BACK TO?" Tex asked, not seeing a way out.
"HERE!" Preacher pointed. "THIS PLACE MIGHT HAVE A FREEZER OR A BACK EXIT!" The SUV had crashed in front of a bakery, which had a "opening soon" sign on the front door.
"MOVE!" Iceman ordered as the MG fired once again.
Preacher moved through the utterly ruined front door, quickly yet carefully making his way to the back.
"Boss? We got a back exit. If we move quick, we might just be able to slip out and lure 'em in." Michael said.
"COPY THAT!" Iceman said over the fire before turning to Tex and Rae.
"I'VE GOT FLARES IN THE GLOVEBOX!" Iceman answered.
Tex reached inside and grabbed three flares.
"GIVE ME THE FLARES AND HELP RAE MOVE MENDOZA INTO THE BUILDING!" Iceman shouted.
"WHAT? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GONNA BE?" Tex asked.
"IF WE ALL FALL BACK AT ONCE, THESE GUYS'LL FIGURE OUT WHAT'S GOIN' ON AND FLANK US! I'LL COVER. ONCE YOU'RE SECURE, I'LL BOUND BACK." Iceman explained.
The look on Tex's face made it clear that he didn't like leaving anyone behind, even if it was the best idea at the moment. The punch he delivered to the roof of the SUV only solidified it. But, all the same, he pulled Mendoza out of the vehicle, putting one of the man's arm around him and looking at his team leader.
"YOU DIE HERE AND I'LL KICK YOUR A**!" yelled the Texan.
"COPY THAT! NOW MOVE!" Iceman said as he began firing.
"MOVIN'!" Tex said as he moved quickly, headed directly for the rear of the bakery.
Frankie had her pistol up, ready to give anyone who got within range a .45 caliber 'f**k you'.
"HEY, I DIDN'T FINALLY GET ANOTHER TEAM JUST TO LOSE 'EM. YOU MAKE IT THROUGH THIS, YOU HEAR ME?" She asked.
"I'LL MAKE IT." Iceman said as he ducked behind the truck for a moment to take cover. "IF I DIE HERE, WHO'S GONNA FILL OUT THE CLAIM ON MY TRUCK?"
With a silent nod, Iceman popped back out of cover to cover Frankie as she moved to the bakery. Once she got inside, she got behind an overturned table for cover, her pistol still ready to take down anyone who tried to flank Iceman.
"Boss, we're set at the back door. We've tried to call Big Bad but it didn't go through." Preacher said.
"He must still have turned his phone off." Tex replied.
"Copy that. I'm comin' in." Nick said.
He loaded the last magazine in his rifle before switching the weapon to Fully Automatic and dumping it, aimed more at suppression than accuracy. Once the mag ran dry, Iceman picked up one of the flares, sparked it and ran just inside the door before saying one word.
"COVER!"
With that, he popped the flare and tossed it overhand just over the top of his overturned SUV. As soon as the flare left his hand, he turned around towards the back and started running. It was only seconds before it set the leaking gasoline on fire, trailed up the underbelly of the truck and blew it up. The force threw the man to the ground and then everything went black.
The immense heat and pressure swept over them a fraction of a second before the shockwave of the explosion knocked Iceman and Frankie to the ground. Preacher and Tex were in the kitcher near the back door and Mendoza was locked in the large freezer. When the SUV blew up, smoke rushed through the back of the building, causing the two contractors to cough intensely. Mendoza began banging on the door, screaming to be let out.
The ringing in Frankie's ears muffled every sound, as she made her way to her feet and could just barely make out the jagged, gutted form that had once been their SUV. The wind knocked out of her lungs, the harsh smoke in the air and her legs felt wobbly. It was even worse than the hangover she had after celebrating her graduation from The Naval Academy.
She dropped to a knee, her hands slighly out to her sides to catch her if she fell. She shook her head to get the cobwebs out of her mind and her eyes immediately to the motionless body of Iceman. She stumbled to her feet and made her way to him and begin removing pieces of debris that had landed across him. Once she pulled debris off of him, she placed two fingers to his neck to feel for a pulse. In spite of how terrible she felt, a wave of relief washed over her when she found that the old Canadian was still breathing.
That relief only lasted seconds as she regained her senses and made out a couple of people-shaped silhouettes in the smoke. She quickly grabbed the pistol out of his holster and raised it, firing a few rounds and seeing the two shadows drop. Once she was sure nothing else was coming in, she turned her attention back to Iceman.
"C'mon, wake up..." She said as she looked his body over for any signs of serious injuries.
"Man *cough* down. I ne-*cough* need help in here." She said just over her shoulder in the direction of the rear.
Deciding that they needed to be anywhere but there, Frankie grabbed the drag strap on the back of his plate carrier and began making their way to the back. Ideally, someone would have been covering her, but none of this situation was ideal.
When Frankie called for help, Preacher looked over to Tex.
"You good?" Preacher called out, getting a string of coughs in response.
"Yeah. Still here." Tex said.
"Mendoza?" Michael then asked.
As if in response, banging and muffled screaming could be heard from the other side of the freezer door.
"Yeah, he's still breathin'." Tex said, the lack of enthusiasm heavy in his voice
"I'm goin' to help secure the front. Lock down the back." Preacher instructed.
"Yeah. I got it." Tex said.
Then Preacher made his way to the front, where he saw Frankie dragging Iceman towards the back.
"Let me help with that." He said as he grabbed one of the shoulder straps on his team leader's vest and helped Frankie drag the man back.
When Iceman regained consciousness, he had heard a few dull, distant sounding pops above him. He had slightly opened his eyes for a moment, but immediately closed them as he felt disoriented and as if he was on the verge of vomiting. He forced his eyes back open as he felt his body being dragged, but whoever was pulling him wasn't having the easiest time of it. Just then, he felt another pair of hands grab and pull him, moving him a bit faster.
"You good?" Preacher asked as he and Frankie drew Iceman into the back end of the building.
"I'm good." She replied, Iceman's pistol still in her hands, ready to defend them from anyone else who might try to rush the front.
"Smoke's fillin' up quick, should settle out fast with the backdraft though." She said.
Preacher nodded at Frankie's words about the back draft.
"Thank God for it, too. I'd rather die from a bullet than die from smoke." He said.
Once they stopped, Preacher was set up so as to provide security for the front of the building, while Tex covered the back and Frankie was crouching next to Iceman's barely moving body. A hand lifted to pat him against the cheek a few times.
"C'mon pretty boy... up and at 'em." She said with an easy and playful smile. She assumed that if her light 'love taps' to his cheek didn't rouse him more fully, those words certainly would.
When she started lightly smacking him on the face, Iceman tried to sit up, but his head was spinning and he laid back down on his back, coughing as he did so.
"Attaboy." She said as Iceman showed signs of life.
"How's it look back there?" Preacher asked.
Tex quickly peaked outside the back door and still didn't see any hostiles.
"It's clear, but I don't want to stay here forever." The Texan started. "Where the f**k is that backup? We have an H.V.I. to exfil and we've gotten into one hell of a gunfight."
Frankie shook her head before speaking.
"In the middle of the day in downtown LA on an off the books op? They won't go for it." Frankie said.
"This thing went ON the books as soon as we started callin' L.A.P.D." Steve said.
"He's right. Call whoever you've gotta call and tell them there are undercover officers transporting a federal witness in need of pickup." Preacher said.
"It doesn't work that way." She defended.
She ran her hands through her hair, taking a couple of breaths to try and calm herself.
"Okay. Let's just work the problem." She said to no one in particular.
Suddenly, she turned to the freezer that Mendoza was locked in. As soon as she walked up and opened the door, the man was doing his best to get out of there, but Frankie stood in his path and pushed him.
"Which cartels were washing their money through your bank...?" She asked.
"What?" Mendoza asked.
Before he could answer, the sounds of another heavy firefight broke out on the street, raging for several minutes. Once the first shots rang out, Mendoza, who had just been trying to get out of the frezer just moments prior, closed to the door and sealed himself back in it. Preacher, Frankie, Tex and Iceman - once he regained his senses - were holding security on the entrances. There was an extremely tense few minutes of silence as the red and blue lights of police cars could be made out through the smoke and people-shaped figures could be seen in it.
"L.A.P.D.! Anybody in here?" Asked the voice of a man through the smoke.
'LA's finest. Better late than never.' Frankie thought.
"Federal Agents! We were attacked transporting a witness." She said.
As the man came closer, the group could see a pair of uniformed police officers making their way through, the male officer had an Stoner-type weapon in his hands.
"Jesus Christ." The said the female officer with her pistol drawn.
"We're in need of transport." Preacher said.
"Dispatch, this Four Adam Seven. We're reached Code Three call. We're Code Four. Requesting backup and E.M.S. at our location immediately." The female officer said over her radio.
"No...we don't need E.M.S. we need transport. We're carryin' an witness to a safe house." Iceman explained.
"You guys need to get checked out, sir." Said the male officer.
Iceman shook his head at the man's insistence.
"No. We gotta get to the safe house." He said as he and Preacher made their way towards the front door.
She in turn identified herself and the other three operators as Homeland Security agents before pulling Mendoza back out of the freezer. As they made their way through the main front area of the restaurant, something on the floor just in front of the counter caught her eye. It was her pistol. She had lost it when the explosion tossed her back. Given the circumstances, she didn't have the time to look for it. She picked up the pistol and holstering it and feeling - for lack of a better word - complete.
As the five of them made their way out through the front, the got a lot of stares from the officers on scene. Five people all covered in soot, four of them wearing tactical gear and one wearing a suit. As they walked through and surveyed the scene outside, there were blown out windows, shot up cars as well as dead and badly wounded people - both police and bad guys - on the ground or being placed on stretchers. It was a mess. But they'd live to tell the tale at least.
"Who's in charge of S.W.A.T. around here?" Preacher called out.
"That'd be me. Sergeant Hollister." Said a man walking up to the group in full tactical gear.
"We need to take one of your vehicles for transport. We take ours but..." Iceman trailed off as he pointed back towards the destroyed SUV.
"Whatever you need. I'll have one of my guys drive." Said the Sergeant.
Once everyone was on board and the vehicle was headed to the meet point, everyone seemed to relax somewhat. Everyone except Mendoza, who took it upon himself to grab a S.W.A.T. flak jacket and put it on.
"That must beat shufflin' papers behind a f**kin' desk, huh?" Tex asked Frankie with a big smile.
"Mmmn... you have no idea." She said leaning forward slightly, her elbows on her knees. "I haven't felt this bad and this... fucking good at the same time in years..."
The three operators all smiled as Frankie spoke. The feeling of that adrenaline wearing off as it is slowly turned into...something else. You're glad to be out of the danger, but you can't wait to jump back into it.
"Y'know, I've been thinking. I'm not gonna file an insurance claim. My truck was damaged in the execution of a contract for the U.S. Government. This is comin' out of Uncle Sam's pocket." Iceman said with a smile.
"I'm... just gonna wish you luck and leave it at that..." She said as she leaned back against the seat.
"When do I get to see my family?" Mendoza asked.
"Be quiet." Steve said.
"Hey, relax, man...You'll be able to see 'em soon." Preacher said, speaking to both Tex and Mendoza.
"We should be at the meet point in a couple of minutes." Said the officer driving the armored vehicle.
Iceman looked over to Rae and spoke.
"I guess you can handle yourself. Nice job." He said as he held out his hand for a first bump.
She didn't say anything as she returned the gesture, but turned towards Tex with one of her eyebrows raised
"How was my draw, cowboy?" She asked. Before he had the chance to speak up she lifted her hands.
"Now I know, I know, I know... Nowhere as the man they call 'Tex'..." She said.
"Darlin', there ain't no one alive that can handle a pistol as good as me..." He started.
She conceded the point and smiled his direction and let a single hand lift and shifted those fingers in a 'come on' fashion before she was speaking again.
"C'mon... lay it on me."
Tex dropped his head as he chuckled before looking back up at her.
"You can handle your iron, even I have to admit that." He said.
Preacher smiled, raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms at the man's compliment.
"Wow. I never thought I'd live to see the day that YOU complimented someone on how they handle a sidearm." The big man said.
"Hey, man. Gunslingin' is a dyin' art. When you meet someone who's got the same sense for that art as you, it's only right to tell 'em so." Tex defended.
Frankie laughed at Tex's words before she was leaning back yet once again. Though she would never admit it out loud, his words felt like a bigger win to her than Iceman's, because Tex was, in her mind, by far the hardest sale. It was quiet for the rest of the ride until the armored vehicle stopped. The team dismounted, Mendoza in tow. When they dismounted, Big Bad was the first to approach.
"F**king hell, boss. What did you get into while we were gone?" He asked.
"What can I say? We saw a chance to play in the mud. Can't blame us for takin' it." Iceman said with a shrug of his shoulders before Doc walked up to him.
"Boss?" He asked simply.
"I'm just a little dusty is all. We're all good." Iceman explained as Preacher walked Mendoza to another vehicle to take him to the safe house.
"There a reason you're ridin' with L.A.P.D. and not in your own lorry?" Big Bad asked as he walked towards one of the two vehicles he and his element had gone to the Mendoza residence in.
"We got ambushed. Professionals. They had to have been trackin' us or something. That's why we turned our phones off." Iceman said.
"We didn't have a better time of it. Two SUVs. About eight blokes. Automatic weapons and body armor. Got a bit dodgy when we started getting low on rounds. But the coppers tipped the odds back to us, and the one's we didn't kill got away." Big Bad explain.
"That's alright. Some of the guys who hit us got brought in by L.A.P.D. They tried to kill a Fed AND a witness. They're not goin' anywhere." Iceman said before stopping in front of Ace.
"We pulled phones and I.D.s off some of the guys we engaged." He said as he held them in front of the Russian.
"I'll see what's on them." Ace said.
With that, the team loaded up in the two SUVs. Big Bad's team loaded up in one with Mendoza, while Iceman's team got into an SUV by themselves. Preacher was driving, with Iceman in the front passenger and Tex and Frankie in the back seat.
A few minutes into the drive, Tex let out a groan.
"Preacher, can you turn the radio on?" He asked.
"We're headed to a safe house, not a field trip." Iceman said.
"C'mon, boss. Somebody's watchin' the house and Mendoza's secure." Tex said.
The older Canadian let out a sigh before he reached for the radio dial.
"Keep your eyes open." He said before pressing the power button.
As the Pat Briscoe's "Drifting" played through the car, Tex couldn't help but let out a belly laugh. Preacher smiled and, though he'd never admit it, even Iceman smirked. Not even Frankie was immune to the happiness.
She wasn't particularly looking forward to the debriefing phone call she'd have to make to Thompson when they reached the safeouse, so she looked outside the window at the road rushing past and let the music calm her.
They arrived to the safehouse as the sun was setting, with no other issues along the way. The team unloaded from their vehicles and made their way inside to reunite Mendoza with his family.
One hell of a day, and only more to come.