"Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear - not absence of fear."

Mark Twain

Last Alarm

Chapter Five

While The Children Slept

In a modest home, in a quiet neighborhood on an even quieter night, seventeen year old Takashi, family name Komuro, tossed and turned in his futon. He had slept little staying awake well into the night, before fatigue inevitably set in and he dozed off. His sleep was a troubled one however. His slumber interrupted with subconscious thoughts of anger, pain, jealousy, and bitterness that plagued his dreams and robbed him of sleep. His only thoughts that day were the thoughts that plague most young teenage boys his age.

A young, beautiful teenage girl his age, of course.

And with the image of her beautiful face taunting his dreams, feelings of sadness swept through his subconscious mind and the sad memory of a childhood promise that had been made long ago interrupted his dreams. A treasured promise that had now been broken, and his heart along with it.

We were surrounded on all sides.

We were alone and there was no telling if anyone at the airport knew of our situation out here.

And now, we were out of time.

AND, out of options.

Meh.

You have to admit, if anyone ever found themselves in a situation where you're completely surrounded by hordes of hostile enemy's intent on killing you no matter what, and you were cut off from any nearby escape route, and no cavalry is coming up over the horizon to save the day.

Well then being in the company of a bunch of men used to working behind enemy lines, all alone, and constantly dealing with difficult situations, while having to move and think fast on the run,…..well, suffice to say, I don't think I could have been in better hands.

Of course, I wouldn't have minded having a couple of A-10's making a strafing run with their 30mm cannons , and a napalm run or two would have been pretty nice about now.

Ah well.

Unlike what you see on the movie screen, Spec Ops guys don't act all billy-bad-ass and go looking for trouble.

They do their job aggressively, sure, but they do it SMART, and that's what separates them from the Hollywood fantasy heroes you see on the big screen.

So when we saw all those slowly moving figures moving up on our position, we didn't circle the wagons and hope to hold off who knows how many of these things there were until the cavalry arrived.

If it EVER arrived that is, they still had Chris on "HOLD."

Nor were we gonna try to do something stupid like try to run through all of them out there with guns blazing.

Looks cool in the movies, but it would have been suicide with our limited supply of ammo that we carried on our person, and no telling how far we would have to run before we were clear of these things, or if there was even a place we could find on this island that was clear of these things.

Nope, we went for "Plan B", the option none of us really cared for, but at this point was surely better than waiting around to become zombie chow.

Actually, there really wasn't much of a choice at all. When you can't go right or left, and you can't go back or forward either. Your only other choices are up or down.

We chose going UP.

"Glenn, we need to chopper out of here fast, how's it look?" J.R. asked, pulling back the charging handle of his carbine.

"The chopper's batteries are on charge, and the bird's hooked up to the tug." Glenn replied.

" From what I could see, it looks good to go." He continued. "We do need to clear the hangar before I start her up though. Way too much crap that can go flying around if I tried to take off in here no matter how big this hangar is."

"You mind asking those fella's if the bird's good to go? My Japanese is a bit rusty." Glenn added, looking at the mechanics who were staring at us in fear.

"I know the feeling Glenn." I thought to myself. "Shoulda never sold my anime collection."

A few of the guys were outside of the plane watching our perimeter and covering our backs as the rest of us quickly finished gearing up, all of us still watching the slowly moving figures approaching our position.

Inside the plane, J.R. motioned to the mechanics and the guard to come over to him and as they did, he asked them in very-fluent Japanese, the flight status of the helicopter.

They then started talking very excitedly and then began nodding their heads vigorously that the repairs to the hydraulic system of the chopper were done, and it was awaiting a final check-out flight by the pilot, which was scheduled for the morning shift.

"No time like the present." Glenn grumbled.

Hell of a thing, taking off in an aircraft that's flight status is questionable, but there was no choice in our present situation.

I watched J.R. then further explain to them, as I tried to listen along, that we were all going to leave in the helicopter, and that while both teams covered them, they needed to pull the chopper out with the tug, and then all of us would take off together and try to make contact with the tower, or bug out to the mainland, to which they nodded their heads in agreement.

At this point, I'm pretty sure they didn't give a rat's ass where we were going, so long as it was away from HERE.

"That's it then." J.R. said looking at Chris still holding the phone, and obviously from the frustrated look on his face, still placed "ON HOLD".

"We're gonna cover the Japanese while they clear the chopper from the hangar. Once they clear the tug from the skids and Glenn winds her up we're oughtta here, AGREED?" He said looking over everyone's faces. There were a few quick nods from all of us.

"Any questions?" J.R. asked out loud.

There were no questions from any of us, but the guys had no problems hearing any useful input from anyone just before going into action.

"Head shots ONLY guys." I said out loud, facing them as they turned to look at me. "Center of mass doesn't work with these things. The guard tried with a heart shot, and it only pissed them off."

There were no surprised looks from any of the guys, just nods of acknowledgment.

J.R. looked at me for a second and nodded his head in approval, then looked back at Chris. "I'll take these three guys around the starboard side with us and you take the other three with you, OK?"

"Roger that." Chris said looking like he wanted to chunk the sat phone against the fuselage.

"Everybody get ready to move." J.R. barked as we all checked our weapons and prepared to move.

I grabbed the kid holding my SHTF bag and motioned to him to stay with me, while Patrick grabbed the security guard and David grabbed the third mechanic.

As we moved in position near the cargo door dragging the kid with me, I suddenly felt a pat on my right shoulder.

"You alright, Pappy?" the young blond-haired medic of BLUE team, a kid from San Diego named Ben asked me.

"I'm fine Mijo'. Just looking forward to landing on the front lawn of the Emperor's house and maybe help myself to some of his coffee before they toss us in jail." I said jokingly, tussling his spiky hair like he was a kid.

Truth was, oddly enough, the thirty year old former navy corpsman was actually MY mentor, when I first went through orientation here at Laidlaw. Despite his ultra, laid-back surfer boy personality, the kid was an extremely bright fellow and I found myself hard pressed to keep up with his medical expertise.

Your probably wondering , "Why did I , a 26-year veteran of Fire and EMS need a kid 14 years my junior teaching me anything?"

The fact is, Tactical Medicine is a specialized field requiring specialized training, and Ben, being a former navy corpsman attached to a Marine RECON unit had more experience in that field than I did. It would have been stupid of me to let my pride get in the way and not take advantage of his experience and know-how, no matter how much older I was.

Being a combat medic attached to a squad on a battlefield is worlds apart from being a Fire/Medic in a fire truck in the city.

I don't have a problem taking orders from anyone younger than me so long as they know what they're doing. And Ben definitely did, and I relied on him heavily to get myself up to speed on being the medic for GREEN team.

Ben was good people, and because we got along so well, a lot of the guys started taking jabs at us that we were like father and son.

After that, he started calling me "Pappy" and I started calling him "Mijo' " which is Tex-Mex for the Spanish phrase "Mi Hijo" which means my "son" or "boy".

"You ready?" he asked me as we were getting ready to move out.

"Yup." I said. "Be safe Mijo', see you on the other side." I said sincerely as we bumped fists.

"Just make sure you don't fall down and break your hip old man." He said as he walked toward the other guys in his team, laughing.

"Oh, I see how you are, ya little punk!" I said. I was laughing inside too though.

Truth is, I really was the old man of the bunch.

The two oldest guys next to me were J.R. and Glenn, both of them an ancient 42 years of age.

Truth is though, to look at me, you'd think I was younger.

I've been complimented by many people on how much I look like I'm in my mid-thirties when they're surprised to find out I'm actually 44.

Good genes I guess. Still got all my hair with just a few wisps of grey at the temples and I still have all my teeth and all my marbles working in my brain, so kiss my ass Ben.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of J.R.'s voice.

"MY team on me, starboard side of the chopper. Let's move!" he ordered, as we filed out of the plane carbines at our shoulder.

I was behind Steve and dragging the young mechanic carrying my SHTF pack, trying to keep pace with me on my left side, his hand gripping one of the straps of my med-pak so I could have both hands free, while the guard tried to keep in step while being dragged by Patrick also gripping the strap of his pack, both of them behind me.

"BLUE Team, on me, Port Side! Chris called out to his guys as they filed out of the plane with the other three Japanese men in tow.

As we moved out the rear cargo doors of the plane with our weapons at our shoulders with the muzzles up, we moved out and then formed up on the starboard side of the chopper.

I then motioned for the kid to stuff my bag under the last row of seats in the chopper, and after a couple hard shoves, he got it wedged underneath.

He then turned around to look at me, and I motioned for him to join his buddies who were using the tug to wheel the helicopter out of the hanger as we moved along with them, covering them as they wheeled it out past the hangar door and onto the tarmac enough for us to clear the building.

By this time though, the slowly lurching figures were too close to our position, and there was no way we could wait for Glenn to wind up the engines after the mechanics had removed the tug from underneath the the skids of the helicopter without having to open fire.

After the tug was removed, Glenn yelled at the Japanese to get on board and then started flipping switches to begin "start up" of the twin turbines of the big Bell Super Transporter while Jerry the co-pilot, did a quick check of the instruments.

The moment of truth had come for the rest of us though, and as the rotors started their lazy rotation, we all got down to one knee to avoid the possible dip of the main rotor, and prepared to fire.

As I tried to slow my breathing down and calm my rapidly pounding heart that was beating in overdrive, I turned to look at the glowing tritium hands of my watch.

0455.

It had only been 15 minutes since we were awakened by the screams of the mechanic being attacked.

It had seemed like a hundred years had passed already.

We had hoped to avoid at least one violation of international law by not firing a shot over someone else's sovereign territory. But sometimes diplomacy just has to take a back seat when it comes down to having to respond aggressively to an immediate danger to life and health.

They were pretty close now, and I took a breath to steady myself and flipped the selector lever on my carbine to "Fire" as I centered the red dot of the Eotech on a blood covered maintenance worker.

"DROP 'EM!" I heard J.R. and Chris yell, as the tarmac was instantly lit up with the flashes of gunfire from our weapons and shuffling bodies started to fall, as the whining of the helicopter's turbines started to shriek in our ears.

"Someone has GOT to notice all this commotion by now." I thought as I placed the red dot of my Eotech sight on the face of the same office girl I had seen earlier gnawing on that skull out behind the hangar, and squeezed the trigger.

Seventeen year old Rei Miyamoto lay in her futon in the pre-dawn hours. Her sleep had been almost as troubled as Takashi's. But unlike Takashi, her sleep had been disturbed by feelings of anger, frustration, indignation, and perhaps,…..guilt?

She had tossed and turned most of the night, and had finally settled to sleep, and like most of the city, was blissfully unaware of the life and death struggle going on in their own backyard.

We had all just peeled back from our firing lines, and were climbing aboard the chopper after the engines had finally reached the proper RPM's for take-off. Men scrambled for seats as men behind covered them and then climbed aboard as well.

I had just taken off my med-pak and wedged it under a seat in the cabin, and then hurled myself into what would have been the door gunner's seat if this had been a military helicopter.

No sooner had I fallen into the canvas seat, than I had to quickly raise my carbine and snap off two shots at an approaching blood-covered man in mechanic coveralls and a big bandage on his right hand who was reaching towards me.

"WHOA!" I yelled as I squeezed the trigger twice and the top of his head exploded as he dropped to the ground.

THAT, had been WAY too close.

The things were so close to us by now that all of us on either side of the chopper with a clear field of fire, had to maintain a steady rate of gunfire at the approaching hoard climbing over the bodies of the ones we had already shot, in their ceaseless attempts to get to us.

These things just would not stop coming.

The roar of the main rotor was deafening as Glenn pulled back on the collective and the main rotor bit into the air lifting us off the tarmac, as the mass of blood covered beings surged forward and then lifted their hands as if to reach out and grab the skids as we climbed in the air.

I stopped firing and hurriedly clicked on my seatbelt as I stared at the writhing, moaning hoard below.

It was an eerie sight watching them lift their hands in the air, still making biting motions with their mouths like they were just waiting for one of us to drop out of the sky.

It kinda reminded me of the times I used to throw bread crumbs to the koi fish in the koi pond behind the Alamo museum. I remembered how I used to enjoy watching all those fish waiting with open mouths at the surface of the pond waiting to snatch up the crumbs tossed into the water by the tourists.

"Except these ain't no friggin' koi, and I sure as heck don't wanna be no friggin' breadcrumb." I thought as I stared across the tarmac in the dim pre-dawn light, as it seemed like there were probably more than one hundred lumbering figures walking around aimlessly around the spot that we had just left.

"Where did all these things come from, and how the hell has nobody noticed them shuffling around all this time?" I said to myself.

Most people would have shut the doors of the helicopter at this point to shield us from the wind and noise as well as the awful scene below us, but it's an unwritten rule that the doors are either removed or left open in military helicopters.

There are a few reasons for that, a couple being is that they won't stop or even slow down a bullet anyway, and it's nice to be able to shoot back at your enemy.

But one of the main reasons is for rapid ingress and egress of a chopper if it's about to crash or already has, and you need to get out in a hurry.

Most aircraft are flying bombs, and since they are made of light composite materials like magnesium which burn at extreme temperatures and react explosively with water, you really don't wanna be trapped in one that's crashed and is on fire. It's not pretty pulling a victim out of a crashed aircraft that's been charred along with the aircraft.

They don't call them "crispy critters" for nothing.

I kept watching the writhing mass below reaching up at the sky for us, as Glenn flew over the top of the hangar and passed over the back lot, where the ground was still teeming with blood-covered shuffling figures.

As we passed over the lot, Glenn kicked in the left rudder, and I saw our nose pointed toward the bright lights of Tokonosu City as we slowly flew over the back lot as Chris tried to reach somebody again on the sat phone while Glenn was trying to reach someone on the radio.

Personally, I wished we could have just left at this point, and headed for the city and took our chances with the local authorities, even if it meant incarceration. Not exactly the way I wanted to visit Japan, but then again, anywhere but here was preferable.

Even a Japanese jail cell felt inviting at this point. At least I'd get that cup of coffee I wanted.

I felt a sharp rap to the side of my head and narrowly missed getting hit on the side of my head again by a pair of headphones swinging near my head. Some of the guys already had a pair on, so I took them off the hook and slipped them over my ears.

I had missed most of the radio traffic between Glenn and whoever it was he had finally made contact with at the tower. Evidently it was not going very well, the way Glenn was exchanging more obscenities with the man on the receiving end of the radio than anything else.

I don't know what the problem was, but our ears perked up immediately when a very cold voice came over our headphones.

"Unidentified Pilot. LAND IMMEDIATELY, or you WILL be shot down."

It was about as silent as it can possibly be in a helicopter flying with the doors opens for a couple seconds with no one saying a word.

"Glenn." Jerry said. "There are tangos all OVER the place man. We can't land here bro."

"F_CK 'EM!" J.R. said in frustration. "Head for the city, Glenn. We'll take our chances with the locals. Those idiots aren't aware what's headed their way, and we ain't gonna die trying to play by their rules. Hit the deck!"

"Roger that, going feet wet." Said Glenn as he dipped the nose of the helicopter down and we leveled off a few feet over the water and headed for the bright lights of Tokonosu City and hopefully, a safe place away from this island of monsters and death.

Just because we were leaving the disaster unfolding back at the airport didn't mean we were out of the woods yet though.

We had a few miles to go before we went feet dry on the mainland, and some hot-shot, JSDF F-15 Eagle pilot could still easily swoop down and lock us up with an air-to-air missile and blow us out of the sky before we got anywhere close to shore if the tower had already contacted the nearest airbase and the military had scrambled any jets.

So while Glenn red-lined the main rotor and pushed us as fast as we could go while staying as close to sea level as he could to stay off the radar, the rest of us were busy scanning the early morning skies for the bright, winking navigation lights of a JSDF fighter jet or worse, the tell-tale flash and vapor trail of an missile launch.

As I scanned the sky, I suddenly wondered if there was anything on board that would float in case we had to ditch at sea. I should mention that at a time like this it may seem that a rocket up the ass would seem to be the predominant concern in this situation.

However, I have my reasons for worrying about drowning as well as being blown to smithereens.

And if I failed to mention it before, I'll say it now.

I'm NOT a member of SEAL TEAM. I have not gone through DROWN-PROOFING.

In fact, I HAVE nearly drowned TWICE during swift water training as a firefighter.

The reason for that is because I have the density and flotation ability of a cinder block, and I "sink just like the proverbial stone", as they say.

Of course, I agree, it's a helluva time to think about drowning when I could just as easy be blown out of the sky as well.

"So much for my first helicopter ride." I thought as we sped toward the twinkling lights of the city, looking like they were a hundred miles away.

"I didn't see this crap in BACKDRAFT." I grumbled.

Eighteen year old Saeko, family name Busujima, slept peacefully in her futon.

Her sleep had been deep, as she could now finally relax after she and her team had proven victorious in the recent Kendo championship against a rival school.

The extreme training and constant practice had been exceptionally grueling in preparation for their team's match against the previous year's champions. But it had paid off, and they had arrived back to Fujimi High victorious.

It was now after 0500, a time when Saeko would already have been wide awake, and practicing her iaijutsu drills before showering, a quick breakfast, and dressing for school, which was her normal routine. Today, however, she was treating herself to a few extra minutes rest.

She had after all, earned it.

Unlike the annoying ring of an alarm clock that you can easily ignore or shut off, the sudden switching on of the lights and the LOUD blast of the tones of an Overhead Emergency Alerting system is meant to jolt a person awake from the deepest slumber, in order to get them instantly alert to respond to an emergency.

It can be heart-stopping for some, and the effects from being blasted awake in such a fashion, studies have shown, can have extremely long-lasting effects over time.

In this case however, the bright glow of the lights coming on and the blare of the ALERT klaxon only served to royally piss off twenty-six year old S.A.T. Sergeant and team sniper Rika Minami as she was harshly awakened from a deep sleep.

"Not another STUPID drill!" she grumbled as she sat up on the side of the bed, eyes narrowed to slits from the glow of the bright lights.

The barracks where the members of the S.A.T. personnel were quartered ,were designed much like the military barracks in the JSDF with small, removable walls much like an office cubicle for semi-privacy.

Only in Rika's case, being the only female S.A.T. officer assigned to the airport, it was now co-ed since there was no provision to quarter females in what had been for years a male-dominated world.

It had been no problem whatsoever for Rika, who was not afraid to live in the same quarters with her fellow all-male members in the S.A.T.

Still, for many of the men, it took a little getting used to having such an attractive looking women sharing the same sleeping quarters with them.

As everyone was hurriedly donning their black jumpsuits and donning their combat vests and other equipment, Rika, still somewhat drowsy, was busy tugging one foot into the leg of her jumpsuit as her partner and spotter Tajima walked up to the small portable wall that was her sleeping cubicle and poked his head in and quickly poked his head out as she was still not dressed in anything but her underwear.

Rika pulled the jumpsuit to her waist, still struggling with putting it on, and wondering why she was having so much trouble putting on her jumpsuit before she realized, it was inside out.

She swore loudly as she struggled to take it right back off again.

Tajima, standing outside, was shaking his head as he listened to her struggling to get dressed.

"Minami-san, hurry up can't you? We're gonna get yelled at again for not being ready during an alert again." He said, almost whining.

"Oh, Shut up!" Rika grumbled. "I wouldn't be so out of it if I wasn't so tired from having a hundred drills every week. What is it this time anyway?"

"You know, that's a good question." Tajima wondered aloud.

Normally, when an ALERT went out, the voice of the caller from Dispatch would be announcing what the call was, and whether it was a drill or a Real World incident. There had been no such announcement over the public address system as of yet.

"That's never happened before." Tajima said as he absent-mindedly looked back over to Rika who was still sitting on her bed with her jumpsuit around her waist as she struggled to put her combat boots on.

Tajima's eyes went wide and he swallowed the lump in his throat and quickly turned back around hoping Rika hadn't noticed him staring.

Rika normally slept in her underwear much to the chagrin of the wives of the other S.A.T. personnel.

She was also a fitful sleeper, and was constantly tossing and turning in bed as the other men could attest to.

"Last night's sleep must have been exceptionally fitful." Tajima thought shaking his head.

Somehow her sports bra had slipped from place during her constant movements and Rika was accidentally flashing a generous amount of underboob that was visible for all the world to see.

"How can one of Japan's top five snipers be such an airhead in the morning?" Tajima wondered as he gazed at his watch again.

"Minami-san." Could you please hurry? We need to get to the armory!" he said, starting to get more antsy now.

"Afraid of getting yelled at again Tajima-kun? " Rika purred as she slipped on her boot and tied the lace. She loved to rile him up even more when her partner was worried about Command's evaluation of their performance.

Their conversation was cut short as the ALERT system blared again and the loudspeaker finally announced the reason for the ALERT.

"ALERT! ALERT! ALERT! ALL OFFICERS REPORT TO STATIONS!"

"SHOT'S FIRED! SHOT'S FIRED! SHOT'S FIRED!"

"POSSIBLE TERRORIST ATTACK AND HOSTAGE SITUATION AT MAINTENANCE HANGAR #7 "B" WING!"

"REPEAT!

"SHOT'S FIRED! SHOT'S FIRED! SHOT'S FIRED!"

POSSIBLE TERRORIST ATTACK AND HOSTAGE SITUATION AT MAINTENANCE HANGAR #7 "B" WING!"

"THIS IS NOT A DRILL! REPEAT! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!"

As the loudspeaker repeated its dispatch, Rika, no longer in a joking mood, launched herself from her bed holding her jumpsuit up to her waist in one hand and snatching up her combat vest with the other, as she ran past Tajima and out the door headed for the armory.

The sudden motion unfortunately, had some unexpected results when Rika had jumped to her feet and ran out the door.

Tajima, in horror, was desperately trying to keep up with her as she bounded down the hallway, his eyes wide and face red with embarrassment.

"MINAMI-SAN! CHOTTO MATTE, YO! ZIP UP YOUR SUIT,WILL YOU?! YOUR BOOBS ARE SHOWING!" he yelled in a mixture of horror and embarrassment as he ran after her.

Sixteen year old Saya, family name Takagi, lay asleep in her huge, extremely plush, western-style bed covered in stuffed animals.

She was dead to the world, a very sound sleeper, as the numerous staff employed in the rather large estate would often gossip about.

People would often gossip about her rather loud snoring that could be heard through the thick oak doors that closed off her room from the rest of the main house. And tonight was no exception, as she lay on her back, covers thrown off the bed, arms and legs akimbo with her mouth wide open snoring heavily with the pillows slightly damp from where she had slightly drooled earlier.

She had endured a very rough evening of studying for the upcoming test in sensei's class the next day. And she was not about to get a grade lower than anyone else's in that class for that matter.

She was a genius after all. And it wouldn't do for someone to best her academically, of course.

All of us let out a breath of relief as we flew up one of the large canals that fed from the city into the sea and passed over a bridge as we flew closer to the downtown area.

Somehow miraculously, we had successfully crossed the expanse of the sea from the airport to the Mainland and had safely arrived over the city without incident.

There was no way a JSDF fighter pilot was going to get permission from his HQ to go weapons free over such a largely populated area. So we could all finally breathe a little easier as we flew over the city.

The plan now was to contact the local law enforcement and get landing instructions so we could turn ourselves in. Chris had finally given up trying to contact anyone in Japan on the sat phone and had called the U.S. Embassy instead after he had made a call back to Laidlaw to tell them of our situation.

The sun was just barely peeking out over the sea, and it was still dark in some areas, as I looked over the bright lights of the city and the traffic on the streets.

As I looked out over the city, I remembered the times back in the old days when I was a Paramedic on a "box".

And I remembered how on more than one occasion as we pulled another "all-nighter", how I used to wonder what it was like for people to be peacefully asleep in their beds completely unaware of the tragedy going on about them as they slept.

"I wonder what everyone down there will think when they find out about everything that happened last night, during their morning breakfast." I thought, as I allowed myself to relax a little and enjoy the ride, as the helicopter pitched to the right, headed for the northern part of town.

Sixteen year old Kouta , family name Hirano, was dead asleep on his futon in front of the TV amongst an assortment of pizza boxes, empty candy wrappers and empty cans of energy drinks, with the headphones on the gaming system still on his ears, after a long night of gaming.

It was still going to be awhile before the dented alarm clock would signal for him to wake up for another day at school. But it had been worth staying up late for the long match he had won last night.

He had soundly beaten all his opponents at HALO after round after round of defeat the previous week. It had been close, but his RED soldier had beaten the opposing teams BLUE champion in a critical round.

'What the hell is all THIS?" said Rika, her eyes wide as she and the rest of her team stared through the windows of the assault vehicle they were being transported in.

Earlier, she and the rest of the members of "B" Squadron had quickly gathered their weapons from the armory and quickly mounted their assault vehicles and were currently following the Command cars out by the auxiliary road to the maintenance hangars on the "B" wing of the airport.

And as they passed hangar #4 on their way to hangar #7, they all came to a sudden stop as instructed by their Team Leader in the Command Car, as it seemed the road ahead was blocked by "a crowd of people slowly walking towards them, headed for the main terminal apparently." According to the radio traffic from the lieutenant, a man named Kozou.

"Are they casualties from the attack, or hostile forces?" Was the question asked by their Section Commander at their base back at the Main Terminal.

Curious, Rika pulled out a pair of binoculars from a rack on the wall of the assault vehicle and scanned the approaching crowd of people as well.

Dawn was quickly approaching, and the early morning dawn was beginning to illuminate their surroundings and improving visibility.

"Subjects appear to be airport employees." Answered the SAT lieutenant over the radio.

"There also appear to be a number of them wounded, as I see a lot of them covered in blood and moving with difficulty. "BREAK." The lieutenant said on the radio, as he switched from talking to Command, and attempted to contact Dispatch. "Dispatch, contact the fire brigade and emergency services and have them on standby until scene is secure. We have multiple casualties at my current location, Hangar #4 "B" Wing."

"Roger Command One." The voice of the dispatcher came over the radio." Fire and Emergency Services have been notified and are standing by."

"Received." The lieutenant acknowledged, as he then looked over at his driver and flipped the safety off his carbine.

"Drive slow Kinjo, let's see what we got, but stay sharp." The SAT Commander said as he then pressed the button on his car mounted radio.

"All units stand-by. We're going to make contact and see what's going on. All units acknowledge." He transmitted over the radio.

The drivers of the other three assault vehicles confirmed the order to stand by, and all teams watched as the Command Car slowly drove up to the crowd of people and then braked suddenly, about 100 meters away from the slowly moving crowd.

"Why did he stop?" Everyone was wondering as the car came to an abrupt stop.

Rika had been watching closely through her binoculars at the crowd of people and the Command car in front of them, and as the morning sun continued to rise over the sea, Rika could begin to see more visible features on the faces of the people.

And then a moment later she suddenly sucked in her breath at alarm at what she saw.

She had been about to yell a warning, when the lieutenant's voice came screaming over the radio as the tail lights of his vehicle switched over in reverse and the rear tires went throwing up a cloud of dust as they went full speed backwards AWAY from the crowd

"ALL UNITS! FALL BACK! REPEAT! ALL UNITS FALL BACK! GET OUT OF HERE! REPEAT! FALL BACK! GO,GO,GO!

"What the hell?!" all the men including Tajima said looking at each other in complete confusion.

"YOU HEARD HIM GET US OUT OF HERE!" Rika screamed as the driver shifted the stick into reverse and they sped backwards.

"Those eyes." Rika thought to herself as they sped away from the scene following closely behind the Command Car.

"Minami-san!" Tajima yelled at her as they were all tossed around in the big armored van.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? WHAT DID YOU SEE!" Tajima yelled as all the men in the van looked at her, their faces full of alarm.

Rika looked at all the members in her team and slumped into the seat she had been sitting in earlier.

"Well." She said with a weak smile on her face.

"At least it's not terrorists."

Ten year old Alice, family name Maresato, slept soundly in her small western-style bed in her shocking-pink painted bedroom.

She had a full day yesterday at school, and then enjoyed playing with her friends after school in the park near her house, before coming home to help her father cook dinner before her mother came home.

Afterwards,she had helped her mother clean the kitchen from the huge mess her father always made when he cooked for the family.

And then after completing her homework and watching TV for a bit with her mom and dad, she had gone fast asleep after brushing her teeth and plopping into bed. Her sleep was interrupted a bit by happy thoughts of her mom's promise to cook her favorite breakfast, pancakes, for her before her mother left for work.

Alice smiled slightly as she slept.

Morning was almost here.

"BOOP!" "BOOP!" "BOOP!" "BOOP!" "BOOP!" "BOOP!" "BOOP!" "BOOP!" "BOOP!" "BOOP!" "BOOP!"

"WE'RE GOING DOWN! WE'RE GOING DOWN!" yelled Jerry through our headsets, while the instrument panels continued blinking and alarms had been going off for the past 10 seconds as a sudden shudder, shook the chopper and then we had heard a loud metallic "CLANG" come from somewhere behind us as the tail of the helicopter suddenly started to swing in a clock-wise motion about 100 feet over the city streets.

We had been flying over a part of the city that appeared to be more residential and close to a huge tree-filled city park when suddenly Glenn reported the rudder pedals felt "sluggish", and then suddenly, the shudder and loud noise came a few seconds later as we flew over the park and we went into our spin.

I don't know how many of my other brothers in the Fire Service have experienced this, although I'm sure the guys in the Northern states have, unlike us in South Texas where a light sprinkle of rain or snow shuts down all the highways in San Antonio.

But once while enroute to a call for a car accident, we drove over a rise on IH-35 North and came across the scene of an accident that we didn't even know about.

And to avoid colliding with the police walking around in the freeway in front of us, the driver of our pumper stepped on the brake and we went into a complete 360 degree spin, while propelling forward at 50 miles per hour.

We all braced ourselves and kept our eyes focused on everything around us without making a sound as we spun around in a complete circle towards the helpless police.

I waited for the sound of thumping bodies of the policemen out on the freeway as our truck spun towards them, and as we continued our spin, I saw that we were headed for the concrete dividers and I thought to myself, "We're gonna impact, BRACE!"

And as we continued to spin, somehow, we missed the wall, AND the policemen, but as I looked out the window, I saw two semi-trucks hurtling towards us, and I thought. "OH SHIT,THIS IS IT!" and then,….NOTHING.

We had just completed a full 360 degree spin at 50 MPH, without hitting ANYTHING or ANYBODY.

Some people called us lucky that night.

I say. "NO. God was looking out over us."

I still believe that to this day.

No way does a truck our size not hit anything hurtling across the freeway without impacting ANYTHING or someone getting hurt.

But nothing happened, and we continued on to the call, although the front end of the truck was vibrating badly afterwards and it had to be taken out of service the next day.

And now, 100 feet in the air over a park in Japan, I was feeling déjà vu all over again as we spun out of control in the sky as Glenn and Jerry struggled to keep us from crashing and exploding in a ball of fire.

In the firetruck, we spun only once, and that is the most awful feeling to be spinning out of control and there's nothing you can do about it but wait for the sudden impact.

In a helicopter spinning 100 feet in the air without control of the tail rotor, the experience was similar but a hell of a lot more terrifying as we were spinning a lot more than just one 360 degree turn, and the feeling was beyond description.

A firetruck is basically a moving toolbox and built like a tank. They can absorb a lot of damage without the occupants being hurt inside.

A helicopter is not so solidly constructed, and as some pilots will tell you that from the moment you take off in one, a helicopter is trying it's best to kill you.

I've never experienced motion sickness in all my years in the back of a "box", or on a pumper, but I admit, I was starting to feel a little funny by the fourth spin, unlike the kid seated in the seat next to me who, on spin number two, threw up all over my left arm as I tried to keep him in his seat.

"Awww, dang it kid! I yelled as he continued to dry heave. I wasn't upset with him as much as I was upset with myself, when on the second spin of the helicopter my med-pak, which had been wedged beneath the kid's seat popped free and went sailing out the door into the trees below.

"Aw,…DAMMIT!" I swore.

GREAT! Now I had just lost my only means of treating anyone if we survived this ordeal.

Well, I still had my back-up med-pak attached to my other pack. Still, I felt like an idiot for letting my primary med-pak go flying out the door.

Of course now was no time to worry about it as we went into spin number three.

Just like in the pumper when we lost control last year, there were no screams or yelling by any of the guys or the mechanics. We were all waiting to see where or what, we were gonna impact, as well as waiting to be able to act once we hit the ground.

As Glenn tried to auto-rotate us towards a clearing in the park, I noticed that some sort of statue of a man was in the middle of a fountain, right in the middle of the clearing that I guess Glenn hadn't seen because of the trees, which were so close now I could step on the tops of them.

I hit the button on my headset as we cleared the trees and headed right for the statue.

"GLENN! STATUE!" I screamed into the mouthpiece.

But it was too late. I tucked my legs in and covered my face with my arms as we headed right for the statue.

"BRACE! BRACE! BRACE!" Glenn yelled at us, as unfortunately ,there was nothing he could do as our tail impacted the statue and we crashed into the fountain on our port side with the main rotor exploding into a hail of metal parts, water, and pieces from the obliterated statue with the horrible screeching sound of rending metal all around us and the enormous cyclone of water kicked up by the rotor that threatened to drown us as it cascaded over us.

For a moment there was no sound or movement from any of us, as Glenn and Jerry hurriedly shut off switches and powered down the helicopter. The only sound besides the turbines going off, were the splashes of water falling on the fuselage and the "thunks" of debris hitting against the hull of the stricken bird, and splashing into the wrecked fountain.

The first person to speak was J.R. "Everybody OK?"

There was a chorus of "Yeah's" throughout the cabin, even from the Japanese.

Somehow, miraculously, just like my experience in the spinning firetruck the previous year, we had all come out of a potentially fatal wreck, safe and sound.

Well, safe anyway.

"OK, everybody's alive, now is anybody hurt?" I asked as I pulled my Surefire light out of my belt holster and shined it throughout the cabin.

It was quite a mess. We were lying on our port side in about a foot of water, and all the guys were busy trying to keep from falling on each other as they were attempting to climb over their seats to get out.

There was a chorus of "NO's" as well, much to my relief.

You wanna talk about miracles. We were living proof of one right now.

I quickly unbuckled from my seat from which I had been sitting like a NASA astronaut waiting to be launched into space, and started helping the guys to climb up and over the fuselage of the crippled chopper and into the ice cold water in the fountain below as we were continuously being drenched by water from the shattered fountain.

We had somehow impacted the statue in such a way that the hull of the chopper was now leaning against the base of the statue, with the statue itself completely demolished by the whipping of the main rotor as we crashed.

All that was left was a pair of metal feet from whatever historical figure the statue was meant to replicate.

I could just see the headlines now in the Tokyo Shinbun.

"AMERICAN MERCENARIES ORDERED EXECUTED BY JAPANESE GOVERNMENT FOR DESECRATION OF WAR HERO MEMORIAL."

Yeah, as if shooting up zombies at an International Airport, hijacking an aircraft with Japanese nationals aboard as hostages, flying over sovereign airspace, and then crashing into a public park in a major city, armed to the teeth wasn't bad enough already.

Yeah, I'd say we were definitely on Japan's shit list pretty deep right now.

I figured the repercussions from this night's events would come down on us pretty hard alright.

That is, if we didn't drown first.

The deluge of water coming from the thoroughly trashed fountain was giving us fits, as we all tried to climb out of the chopper while we were being continuously pounded by the force of the water hitting us as if a dam had burst.

As I helped each man climb out of the wreck, and helped toss packs and weapons to the men below, Glenn and Jerry had somehow managed to climb out of the front and into the pool below.

Since I was the last man out of the chopper, I did a quick scan of the interior of the cabin with my light and seeing no one left aboard, and no equipment or weapons left behind, I then passed my pack to Steve standing below, and using the landing skid as a handhold, I dropped into the freezing water with a splash.

I then grabbed my pack and slung it over my shoulders and splashed through the pool as I went to join the rest of the guys gathered outside of the pool standing guard, weapons ready, in a perimeter around the crash site.

"Glenn, that was some great flying bro, quit taking it so hard man." I heard Chris telling Glenn as he seemed to be rather pissed with himself over the crash as if he had been responsible for the whole disaster.

Glenn and Jerry both had pulled off a miracle, by bringing down a crippled helicopter experiencing a complete failure of the tail rotor, and had managed to auto-rotate us without slamming into a building or the ground in a fiery ball of flame, with each of us alive and unhurt, save for a few bumps and bruises.

Yet Glenn was still pissed off at himself.

It figures though, pilots are extremely proud of their skills, and any of the guys in the Nightstalker regiment have reason to be. So anything other than absolute perfection, is just not friggin' good enough I guess, judging from Glenn's mood. Even Jerry was a little down in the mouth.

"Hey," Said Chris, trying to lighten the mood a bit as we walked our water-logged bodies out to the rest of the group. "You guys are always saying, any landing you can walk away from is a good one."

"Yeah, whatever." Glenn said still grouchy.

"Actually that particular one was only so-so." I chirped in, trying a different tact to lighten the mood. "But the view of the stars and the morning sky was awesome from my seat once the debris stopped falling from the sky."

"F_ck you, Jim." grumbled Glenn as Chris rolled his eyes.

"You're welcome, buddy." I said innocently, avoiding a splash of water Glenn kicked up at me as we stepped out of the fountain.

"Take it easy,…."CRASH." I said to Glenn with a grin on my face as he flipped me the bird.

And that's how it is.

Going through hell and back, experiencing stark terror, and horrible pain, the ability to laugh off your troubles and plod on made me so glad I chose my profession as a firefighter/paramedic in the past, and now as a team medic with these former commandos.

Stuff like what we just experienced would have had most people freaking out in a psych ward somewhere.

We on the other hand, were able to shrug it off and continue on thanks to the strength of our friends.

You can never underestimate the strength of camaraderie folks.

The sound of sirens filled the air as we joined up with the rest of the guys. In a few moments, our ordeal would be over, and we would all be in the custody of the Japanese Government. Sitting in a cell, separated from each other and the rest of the world, awaiting trial for what I'm absolutely sure would be the strangest case the Japanese, if not the whole world would ever hear about.

Unless, there was going to be a cover-up of this incident which in that case, we would never be heard from again.

Oh well, no time to worry about that now. At least we weren't digested zombie poop back at the airport.

As the sun started to bathe the sky in its early morning glow and we could now see the lights of the police cars through the trees as they pulled up to the edge of the park about 200 feet away, the sirens finally stopping their incessant blaring.

We could then see policemen climbing out of their cars and taking up defensive positions behind the doors of their vehicles with pistols drawn, which was our cue for all of us to slowly lower our weapons and throw up our hands.

The Japanese with us raised their hands as well, as the loudspeaker of one of the cars blared out a warning in Japanese which I'm assuming was a warning to surrender and drop all weapons.

"Here we go." I said out loud.

"CONTACT REAR!" I heard Jerry yell suddenly from behind us.

"Easy, bro." said J.R. "Let's not freak out the locals, shall we?"

"IT aint cops, J.R.!" Yelled Jerry still facing our rear. "IT'S THE F_CKING ZOMBIES!"

"Carefully so as not to startle the police and have some nervous cop accidentally start a chain reaction of all the police capping rounds at us, J.R. slowly turned his head, and I heard him suck in his breath.

Chris standing next to me, slowly turned his head too.

"You gotta be F_CKING KIDDING ME!" He said incredulously.

We had all lost interest in the police still shouting orders over their car's loudspeaker as we all turned around with our hands still in the air in horror, at a terror we thought we had all left behind on the bloody tarmac back at the airport.

Behind us, about 200 feet away, slowly shuffling towards us amongst the trees, came the same moaning lurching, blood-covered monsters we had just run away from. We had assumed the threat was at the airport, isolated from the mainland.

Not here in the middle of a major metropolitan city with thousands of people waking up to start their daily routine unaware that death was already here on their doorstep.

And now here we were, stuck between THEM, and a nervous police force waiting to start shooting at us the moment we raised a weapon to defend ourselves, even though they had no idea of the even bigger threat headed their way that was out to kill us all.

We thought we had just escaped Death's icy grip.

We thought we were safe.

We thought the worst was over.

We couldn't have been more wrong.

Author's Notes:

This was the last part of my fanfic before we transition to more familiar territory, that is, the original manga/anime version of HOTD. In the next few chapters, the original story is what I'll be focusing on with some obvious changes.

Before I go on, I want to thank all of you for reading my story, and especially all of you who have given such nice reviews of my story and to those of you who have put my story on their "favorites". I can't tell you how much it means to know that you all are enjoying my story and I hope to keep making it enjoyable for all of you.

Incidentally, I did mention that this story would have true life accounts in it. The story of our infamous spin on the freeway and my drowning experiences are all true. I'm very blessed to be alive today, and not just because of these two incidents that I mentioned. This job is extremely hazardous sometimes and me and the guys that were with me know just how fortunate we are every day.

Also, and this is more humorous. I didn't write the whole Rika boob thing to make my story a little ecchi, although I'm sure a lot of the guys reading this don't mind. But as I was writing Rika's introduction in the story, I remembered an incident that had happened a long time ago.

The fact is, when I was a paramedic in a private ambulance service years ago before I became a fireman, all of us, men and women alike, used to be quartered in one big bunk house which we all shared. And since there were only open bunks available for all of us to sleep in on our 24 hour shift, we all ate, and slept together.

One night, a female medic awoke for a call in the middle of the night, and accidentally flashed all of us in the same manner as Rika did, since we were all awakened by the tones and the lights coming on and was completely unaware of it until someone yelled at her.

When she came back from the call, red as a beet, we all had a good laugh afterwards and went back to sleep. I thought it would be funny if art imitated real life this time.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the story altogether. And I'll be working on the next one.