CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: PRISONERS LAST STAND

As Shipwreck and Deep Six rounded the corner the first thing they saw was a dark hulking silhouette in the hallway. It was easy to tell, judging by the massive size, that it was Overkill. The two men stared helplessly as Wet Suit slid lifelessly out of the arms of the oversized strangler and into a small wet puddle on the concrete floor of the cold, damp tunnel.

The lone surviving guardsman had returned – this time with other armed guards to help retrieve the prisoners. Reality had quickly set in with the realization that they had just lost one of their own – Shipwreck and Deep Six fired down the tunnel.

Overkill dodged out of the way, quickly falling back into the ranks of the armed guards that had just arrived on scene. They returned fired on the two escaped prisoners. The frontline guards held up ballistic shields protecting the second row of machine-gunners behind them, attacking like a well coordinated unit.

Shipwreck and Deep Six ducked back to the edge of the tunnel entrance taking strategic cover as bullets came within inches of striking them. They carefully fired their weapons down the hall; their precise and deliberate aim ensured they didn't needlessly put a bullet in the recently departed Wet Suit as well as saving their few precious rounds of ammunition. It took a lot of patience and precision to make their shots count. A few of their rounds connected with their targets, bypassing the ballistic shields and dropping a couple guardsmen. But despite their expert shots, other guards would step up and take the place of the fallen.

It reminded Shipwreck of the old sea parable about the Hydra; a monster… or better yet a dragon, with several heads. Whenever one of the heads was cut off, two more would grow back in its place. It was a monster that was almost impossible to kill.

A monster much like the collective force of the prison guards.

Torpedo and Gung Ho had arrived on scene behind Shipwreck and Deep Six. Torpedo couldn't do much without a weapon, but did manage to acquire a survival knife from the guardsman that Gung Ho took out. If nothing else, Torpedo did all he could to encourage his teammates, giving them hope and resolve. "Ship, Six, take steady aim; make every shot count. Hold on, Gung Ho. We'll get through this firefight."

Gung Ho tried to laugh, but his broken ribs spiked pain throughout his body, making him wince in pain instead. "I doubt it, Torpedo, buddy, but… at least, let's take out as many of them with us as we can. I can still squeeze the life out of a few more if they get close enough to me."

Bullets flew to the up and down the corridor and only the tracers were visible in the darkness, illuminating the area like the constant flash of lightning… noise echoed throughout the chamber like constant thunder.

Overkill, in the background, could be heard shouting orders. "I want as many of them alive as possible. I'll personally break them in two, just like I did their comrade!"

A bullet bounced off the wall right next to Deep Six's head, making him flinch and step back. Shipwreck kept firing, dropping another two more. It was hard to tell because of the dark, but it looked like their ranks might finally be thinning out.

Throughout the thunderous roar of the firefight, they heard Overkill screaming, "Kill them! Get up and fight!" The large jailer was clearly getting agitated and untrusting of the guards abilities. They could see him pull out his own assault rifle, grab a ballistic shield, and join the ranks of the guards firing down the tunnel. "Prepare to advance!"

Shipwreck and Deep Six were running low on ammunition but were determined to hold their position. Deep Six dropped another guard who had carelessly allowed his face to have too much exposure above his shield. The rest of the remaining guards… and Overkill… were starting to advance with shields up.

"Well, Six, I think this is it. Smoke as many as you can," Shipwreck cried to him across the open tunnel entrance.

All Torpedo could do was watch and hold his knife tightly. Gung Ho was still lying down, trying to recover as fast as he could even though he though it wasn't fast enough.

Bullets were getting closer to Shipwreck and Deep Six. Deep Six took a round in the arm… in his firing arm. Screaming in pain, he dropped his weapon.

Torpedo ran up quickly to grab the rifle with one hand and Deep Six with the other, pulling him out of the way of harm. As quick as he could, Torpedo took up his position and began to fire, still opposite Shipwreck. His first shot was aimed at Overkill – in fact, the bullet grazed his leg… not enough to drop him but enough to cause a bit of pain. And really make him angry.

But the approaching guards were overwhelming. A bullet also grazed Shipwrecks arm, up by his shoulder, but he held his weapon.

One of the guards in the middle took a bullet in the helmet from Torpedo; the force of the bullet knocked him off balance enough to where he lowered his shield. In that moment, Shipwreck took advantage of the opening and fired at the guard, shooting him in the neck. Shipwreck, realizing Torpedo had set him up for the shot, was impressed. "Nice move Torp! Guess you do still have that SEAL blood in ya..."

Shipwrecks celebration turned to swearing. "I'm out…" All of the ammo had been expended.

Torpedo ran out of bullets only seconds later. "I'm out, too." Turning behind the wall with his back against it, he looked over at Shipwreck, as if to say, "Well, this is it." He nodded to Ship… the kind of nod that said "It was a pleasure fighting by your side." Simultaneously, the two men dropped their empty weapons and pulled out the knives they confiscated from the guards during their escape.

Smoke canisters were thrown down the hall; the four Americans couldn't avoid it. They could only resist the fumes for so long, but then they were consumed, coughing and hacking, on their knees. The smoke was so overwhelming they couldn't even hold on to their knives for a last stand.

Recaptured. It didn't look like they would be going down fighting, after all. Every one of the four could practically foresee the future – their own execution.

There was no getting out of it this time. The guards, now wearing smoke masks to keep the gas out, approached the four Americans and trained their weapons on them.

Overkill stepped up, his weapon pointing at Torpedo. "You'll pay for your arrogance. NO ONE has ever taken up arms against me… or even shot me, for that matter… until now." A small trickle of blood ran down Overkill's leg.

"Won't be the last time," Torpedo quietly voiced with defiance, but also with an air of certainty and confidence in his very own words.

The gigantic villain slammed the butt of his weapon into the collar bone of Torpedo; a crunching sound echoed throughout the tunnel. Torpedo screamed out in pain. His team mates yelled at Overkill almost in unison, almost lurching up to attack Overkill, but the other guards threatened to shoot. The team knew that the guards were agitated and trigger-happy, just waiting for any one of them to "play hero" so they could justify blowing them away.

There was nothing any of them could do.

Overkill bragged, stepping on Torpedos broken collar bone, mashing it with his boot, "You die first… then, your friends. But they will die much more painfully than you. Let that be the last thought that runs through your head."

Torpedo screamed through the pain, but mentally was prepared to accept his fate. He gritted his teeth, shrugging the pain off, and closed his eyes. "We'll win. This doesn't mean it's over, not by a long shot."

Without so much as a word, Overkill pulled out his side arm, cocked his weapon, and pointed it at Torpedo's forehead.

One final shot echoed throughout the tunnel. It rang loudly, and then dissipated to a quiet standstill.