Chapter XLII : Operation TAKE HOLD, Part VI
1000hrs, 17 December 2013, Aylestone Hill, Hereford, United Kingdom
"We are the Pilgrims, master; we shall go
Always a little further: it may be
Beyond that last blue mountain barred with snow
Across that angry or that glimmering sea ..." The Golden Road to Samarkand
There was a team of highly trained and experienced troopers from the 22nd SAS Regiment (or just "The Regiment"), waiting outside Anne and Alan's flat on Aylestone Hill, in Hereford. They were there on a training mission when the terrorist attacks went down, and had been put on standby for action. The information that had been relayed from the captured data from the Nakanishi HQ, to the Americans, then to the British had led them to the hackers in Hereford. The hackers had also conveniently left a nice digital footprint that led to this very location. Apparently, they weren't too smart after all.
"Right outside our own base," one of the SAS troopers, "Jordan," said, shaking his head in disbelief.
"These guys are going down," "Daimler", said to the rest of the four man team, designated as red team. "This is red troop, to Alpha-Bravo," he said over the radio to the command post. The command team was stationed in a white van (and gained the nickname, the white van men over the course of several missions) a couple of streets over, monitoring the CCTV cameras in the area.
"Alpha-Bravo, go ahead."
"When can we take these fuckers down, over?"
That got a bit of a laugh. "Calm down Red troop, you'll get that chance."
"I'm not going to let Blue troop take the glory on this one," Daimler said. "I'm taking these people down."
"I heard that," Blue troop said. Daimler rolled his eyes.
"Standby. We're almost ready on our end."
"Roger. Standing by."
Seeing that he was getting nowhere with Alpha-Bravo, Daimler tried talking to Blue troop to see if they had anything.
"Blue troop, this is Red actual, status?"
There was a moment of silence before Blue troop replied.
"This is Blue actual, we're at our designated location." The four man Blue troop was across the road in an occupied house, their owners conveniently on holiday. They were snipers and spotters, armed with AWM .338 Lapua Magnum sniper rifles, binoculars, infrared devices and scopes, a blueprint of the flat, and a couple packets of crisps to pass the time.
"Lamb and mint?" one of the Blue troop soldiers said to their leader. The guys really liked their crisps in that flavor, although Blue team leader was more partial to the cheddar and onion.
"Not now," he replied. "Red Actual, we have negative movement. The lovebirds are still in the nest, over."
Daimler chuckled at the dry humor that Blue troop sometimes exhibited on missions. "No stealing our kills, okay?"
"Right," Blue Actual said back.
"Red Actual, out."
"Goddammit, what's the fucking holdup?" trooper "George" complained. He was one of the newer members of the team.
"We'll go when they're ready," another trooper, "Baker", replied in response. He cradled his MP5SD3 in his arms.
"Easy for you to say, Baker," George sneered at him. "Not all of us have the patience for…"
"That's enough," Daimler said to him. "Alpha-Bravo, now would be a good time."
"Standby."
Daimler wanted to smash his radio right then and there, but this was how missions went. They didn't go until the higher-ups said so.
"So…did you hear what happened to Mohawk last week?" George whispered to the rest of Red troop. "Slipped on a fucking bar of soap, that's what."
"Give the kid a break," Baker said. "He beat everyone's time on the course."
"He's not 'ere in the field now, is he?" George continued. "Told you that he wasn't cut out for it."
"George, please, shut up and get ready with those breaching charges," Daimler hissed, irritated at his team's inability to stay quiet.
In the white van, Alpha Bravo was busy getting the entire details of the mission right; despite the anxiety of Red troop, their job was just as important as the operator's in the field. The equipment in there was going to be important, and after the team busted through the door, anything could happen.
A radio squawk interrupted the hum of activity in the van.
"Alpha Bravo, standby for flash message," their Brigadier said, from an operations room at Hereford.
Alpha Bravo wondered who the hell it was, as they were dealing with the details of the operation, until the person started speaking on the other end.
"This is the Prime Minister. Put me through to your unit on the ground."
The people in the command van couldn't believe it at first, but they quickly complied.
"Red troop, blue troop, standby for important message from the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom and of North Ireland, over." That was most definitely overblown, but hell, it was the PM talking to them.
Daimler raised an eyebrow at that.
"Shite, the PM wants to talk to us?" George said.
"Hell, if only my ex-girlfiend…ex-girlfriend did so," Jordan snarked.
"Prime Minister, Sir," Daimler replied, ignoring the banter that was going on.
"This is the Prime Minister. I understand you are about to engage on an assault."
Daimler thought that the PM would know that sort of stuff, but figured he'd leave it alone.
"That is correct, sir."
"Terminate with extreme prejudice," the PM said. "Leave no one alive. We are going to get these fuckers back with everything we have. You job is the preservation of their equipment."
"Affirmative. Will that be all?"
"That is all. Good luck. Who dares wins."
"Who dares wins. Out."
Daimler exhaled. Damn. This was turning out to be one hell of a mission, and they hadn't even attacked the target yet.
Several minutes passed again before command got back to them.
"This is Alpha Bravo. You are go for mission."
"Let's roll," Daimler said to the rest of the team. Red troop stacked up against the door and prepared to dynamically enter the flat. George placed a breaching charge, square shaped with a handle for easy placement on the door proper, while Jordan prepared a flashbang to go in after him after the charge had been detonated. Daimler and Baker would go in after them, sweeping their own sectors and making sure that the equipment was secured. Daimler nodded at George to commence the operation.
"Do it," he said. There was someone now shouting inside the flat, surprising all of them but it was now or never time.
"Breaching!" George yelled, hitting the detonator for the explosive.
Anne and Alan were still fast asleep when there was a whispering of voices outside their door.
"Goddammit," Anne muttered. "The neighbors are probably gossiping about the entire thing that went down yesterday."
"Mmm…" Alan groaned. He still wanted to sleep after spending all day hacking.
"I'll go and yell at them," she suggested, wanting him to do it.
"Yeah…whatever." Not the response she was looking for.
"Fine, fine." She got out of bed, still in her panties and a t-shirt. Anne continued to walk toward the door. She stretched and yawned, wondering if the shops were still open today, even all that had gone down, and that maybe she would pop out for a bit and grab some food. Maybe some take away…?
Anne reached the door and peered through the peephole. What she saw shocked her.
Four gas-mask wearing, black fatigue wearing, MP5 toting SAS operatives were waiting outside the door. One was placing something on the door as she watched, and said something to another one of the gas masked soldiers. She quickly scurried back from the door and yelled at Alan to get up.
"Alan!" she screamed. "Alan! It's the police!"
That woke him up quick enough.
"Destroy the computers!" he yelled back. Quickly reaching underneath his bed, he retrieved a case holding his FAMAS from his Foreign Legion days. He popped it open and jammed a magazine into the rear slot of the gun.
Alan had just finished loading the gun when the breaching charge exploded against the door, crashing it down. A flashbang soon followed, its bright light and noise breaking the still winter air. A common thug would have been stunned and blinded by the explosion, but with Alan's FFL training, this was nothing. Reacting quickly, he dropped to one knee and fired a burst from the FAMAS at the figures appearing in the door frame.
"Fuck!" George screamed. "I'm hit!" He fell back, a bullet through his arm and shoulder.
"Get him out of there!" Daimler screamed at the other two. Baker and Jordan dragged George out of the line of fire, while Daimler took a couple of shots inside with his MP5SD3. "Alpha Bravo, this is Red troop, X-Rays are armed!"
"Received, Blue troop, assist Red troop. Cleared to engage."
"Roger." Blue troop, which had been on standby for the mission, swung into action. The sniper across the road aimed through his scope and used the infrared setting to locate the two targets inside of the flat. Since there were two snipers, two targets weren't a problem; they could just take down each of them separately. Unless…
"Damn, she hiding behind the computers," one of Blue troop's snipers hissed into his radio.
"Take down the shooter then," Blue Actual said to him.
"Roger."
"At 100 meters," the spotter said to the sniper. "Wind, five kmph, humidity, thirty percent, ten degrees above the first floor."
"Adjusting." The sniper took his time, despite the desperate gunfight that was developing inside the flat.
Alan kept bobbing up and down like a buoy, staying out of the line of fire from Daimler and Red Troop, while Anne frantically was deleting everything she could from the computers.
"Daimler!" Jordan yelled. "I'm going in! Cover!"
Daimler thought that was a bad idea, considering that this fucker had already taken down an SAS operative, which was more than what some of the people they had gone up against could say. But they had to advance or lose the data on those computers. He nodded at Jordan, who charged in, firing his SMG from the hip.
Alan saw one of the troopers run in, trying to take cover by a support pillar. This was his chance to take down another one of those stupid police, trying to ruin his life for the second time. He raised his FAMAS and took aim at the target.
Jordan whipped around the support pillar, only to realize that he was dead in the sights of the person he had been firing at all this time. This was not the way he wanted to go, but hey, these things happen in war. He lifted his MP5 up anyway, knowing that he wouldn't be able to fire off another burst, but he had to try at least.
"Send."
"On the way." The sniper fired his rifle, and .338 Lapua bullet zipped through the air, burrowing its way through the window and into Alan, severing his spine from the waist down and flopping him on the ground, unable to do much of anything.
"X-Ray down!" Blue troop reported. "Must have slapped the trigger a bit hard there…"
"Red troop, move in!" Daimler shouted. He charged in, past Jordan and ran to the workstations where he saw a woman working feverishly on the bank of computers near the wall.
Anne saw Alan go down, a flash of red from his back where the bullet impacted with his spine.
"NO!" she screamed, turning around from the computer that she was working on. She saw a black clad trooper rush in and take aim with his MP5.
SAS operators are trained to go for the head; none of that double-tap shit. Daimler aimed for her mouth and fired. The 9mm bullet penetrated the jaw and cheekbones, shattering teeth, exploded gums, turning the tongue into shredded meat. The bullet continued on back, obliterating the spine and interrupting all signals to the body, shutting it down and killing Anne instantaneously. The bullet exited and destroyed a monitor, but that was fine as long as the CPU was saved. She collapsed to the ground, her face obliterated by the bullet.
Jordan slowly approached Alan lying on the floor, his weapon lying beside him. He was slowly turning white from the blood loss, and couldn't pull himself up to fire one more shot at them.
"Sorry, lad," Jordan said to him. "Just business."
He pulled the trigger, and blew Alan's brains out.
"This is Red troop," Daimler said, seeing Jordan's handiwork. "All X-Rays down, equipment is secure."
"Roger. We're sending in the medical and the intel lads right now, secure the scene."
"Affirmative." Daimler took a look around him.
Damn, it was good to be a SAS operative.