Chapter 2: The Armouries
AN: So, I'm back with a proper length chapter this time. There's a few reasons why this took so long to update. Chief among them is temporary loss of interest and lack of access to a computer. But whatever Enjoy!
"One hell of a ride my ass" were Jack's first thoughts upon reaching the road. What he had thought would be a quick hike through the woods to reach the Company armouries had turned into a two-hour slugfest of dense brush and towering trees in a way that only west coast forests could provide, ducking for cover at the slightest sound. He realized quickly that walking the shortest path down the street would get them killed and therefore he made the decision to skirt around the most densely populated areas using the maps that CERA had provided.
He couldn't believe how quickly everything had gone to hell once the government and CERA pulled out. It was like flipping a switch. People were killing each other in droves because they believed that they had been abandoned. There were so many more left behind than Jack had thought would be.
They had neither the ammo or the numbers to deal with every threat they came across so mostly they ducked behind a tree or bush and waited for who ever it was to pass by. There had been plenty of such instances though. Gunshots and screaming were most common. He had to steel himself not to intervene every time though. They just couldn't spare the ammo. The only time he broke that rule was when he saw a father and a son who couldn't have been any older than six being attacked by a man in a business suit. The father had a shotgun but he couldn't figure out how to take the safety off and the man in the business suit had a pocket knife that he used to stab at the man's midsection. He missed wildly and firmly planted the blade in his bicep instead before turning toward the son. A well placed shot from Jack's captured hunting rifle ended the fight and brought their total ammo count down to seven rounds, including that of the 1911 tucked into his waistband and Jess' snub nosed revolver. He considered going out and helping the other man but he held himself back when he noticed that the suburban, white collar father had finally figured out the safety catch on the shotgun, and was looking around wildly. He faded back into the bush without another thought of help.
And so they continued on, ducking groups of people whether they looked to be hunting or just trying to stay alive. Outright running away in the case of a couple of people on dirt bikes with a collection of baseball bats and wood axes. After what seemed like the tensest two hours of their lives, the two of them sat in a ditch on the edge of the forest not a hundred metres away from their destination, watching a woman about to be raped in the middle of the street.
The woman looked to be of east Indian descent and was screaming as two men held her down while a third had cut off her shirt and bra with a large bloodstained hunting knife and was currently working on her pants.
"Jack…" Jess urged quietly from behind him. He ignored her. "Jack I swear to God if you don't do something to help her I will." She said as she hefted the .38 seeming to ignore the fact that it only had one round.
"I will help her I just need a plan" he whispered harshly.
"What's to plan?" she demanded "Just shoot the fuckers and stop them!"
Sighing in resignation he lifted the hunting rifle and fired, it went off with a loud crack as it caught the man with the knife in the shoulder flipping him off the hysterical woman. Working the bolt quickly he chambered another round, fired and caught the second man in the chest and again in the stomach. He fell to ground with a spray of blood out of his back. His third shot however went wild and without thought he tossed the now empty rifle aside, drew the .45 out of his waistband and fired twice hitting the man once in the chest and once in the throat blowing out the back of his neck.
He was about to toss the empty pistol aside but thought better of it, instead hitting the slide release allowing it to come forward with a loud shlick noise, and tucked it back into his waistband. He had a particular fondness for the 1911.
As he turned to check on the sobbing woman he was surprised by Jess yelling "Jack watch out!" which was followed by a blinding pain in his left shoulder. Whirling around he saw the first man bleeding freely from his shoulder holding the freshly stained knife in his other hand attempting to shove it into his stomach.
That mother fucker stabbed me in the back! were his thoughts as he reacted by stepping aside grabbing the wrist holding the knife and with his other hand the elbow above it, and rotating his shoulders until the arm in his grasp bent the wrong way with a satisfying snap. Stepping back, he delivered a hard kick to the mans head snapping his head back and knocking him out cold. As he looked around he assessed his work. Two dead, one royally fucked up, and two empty guns. Not to mention a sobbing woman and a knife wound in his back which was beginning to throb again now that the adrenaline was wearing off. He turned to see Jess who was now running towards him carrying their packs.
"He stabbed me in the fucking back!" He yelled half disbelievingly. He recognized the beginning stages of shock but shrugged it off for the time being.
"Let me see" Jess said as she came up to him and dropped their bags.
"It's fine" he said moving away from her "I can still move my arm"
"Jack, you stubborn ass of a man, let me see it or I swear to fucking God I will finish the job myself!" She said planting her fists on her hips. Was that something women had to learn? He wondered, Or are they born with the knowledge. Either way he couldn't help it, he giggled. She looked adorable. Yep definitely going into shock he thought.
She gave him a concerned look and checked the wound, telling him that he would be fine. It hadn't made it past the bone.
"Alright now check on her" he said nodding toward the woman who now lay on the ground sobbing. She was a mess he decided. Her clothes were shredded, she was bruised and scraped, and her makeup was smeared mess across her face but at least she was alive. He started digging into his pack for a spare shirt to give her to replace the one that had been cut.
"She'll be alright" Jess said coming back over to him. "She wasn't hurt too badly beyond some minor bruises and cuts and they never got past her pants."
"Good" Jack said standing up, fresh T-shirt in hand, "Let's get her dressed, get her up, and get moving."
"We're bringing her with us?" Jess asked surprise written across her face. "Not that I disagree, it just seems surprising given your general attitude this morning."
"Its not that I didn't want to help those people!" Jack was getting angry now "We just couldn't afford to! It was too dangerous! I refuse to leave this woman now that there is something that we can do"
"If I might interject…"
Both Jack and Jess whirled in surprise at the unexpected voice of the other woman. She stood there quite calmly all things considered, one arm crossed over her chest in a mostly successful attempt to preserve her modesty. Mostly because she was, well… stacked was the first word that popped into Jack's mind.
"I do not know who either of you are and you do not know me, yet that did not stop you from intervening on my behalf. For that you have my gratitude whatever it is worth to you." She spoke in a clear high class English accent. Suddenly she blushed and held her unoccupied hand out towards the forgotten shirt in Jack's hand. "If you don't mind I would assume that shirt is meant for me?" She gave a meaningful look between Jack and the shirt.
Starting, he sheepishly held the shirt out to the topless woman embarrassed that her suddenly talking had caused him to completely forget the shirt.
"My name is Dr. Tricia Mehta, the man who's elbow you just dislocated after shooting him is– was my husband Aadesh Mehta." She said this while turning her back and pulling the olive drab shirt over her head. It stretched across her chest but otherwise hung from her slender frame. After donning the borrowed garment, she turned around and calmly kicked her dying husband between the legs as hard as she could. He barely groaned at the impact.
Jack couldn't believe how well this woman was holding it all together. He was barely managing to keep himself from panicking and yet this woman was cool and collected even after the ordeal she had nearly suffered. Upon closer inspection however he saw that she was trembling. Clearly barely holding on.
"Well I think we've spent long enough in one place." Jack announced, shouldering his pack. "We're almost there and its time to get a move on. Doctor, if you're coming let's go."
"Of course" was her only reply.
The three of them then made their way up the street towards the large building that housed three separate units including his home unit of 32 Service Battalion. He hoped it was empty. His entire plan revolved around not having to fight his way inside. If there were already hostile people occupying the building they'd have to come up with a new plan very, VERY fast.
As they approached the front steps he had to hold back a groan. The front doors were closed but the glass had been smashed out. Clearly someone had been here before them. Approaching slowly, he tried not to let his boots crunch on the glass. The two others were holding back while he checked everything out. Almost too late he saw a hand holding a Beretta whip around the corner and squeeze off a shot. The hand he noticed with near relief was attached to an arm wearing CADPAT. He dropped to the ground as the round snapped over head where he had been standing no more than a second ago. Scrambling on all fours, he got back around the corner outside the building. The girls had taken cover behind a concrete planter at the sound of the shot.
"Fuck Off!" yelled a familiar voice from inside. "You're not getting in here"
"Andrew?!" Jack yelled back, he was sure it was him.
"Jack?!" he yelled back.
"Yeah man what the fuck!" Jack was pissed, rightfully so. The fucker tried to kill him without even looking at what he was shooting at.
"You alright man? I didn't get you did I?" despite the conversational tone they had adopted neither one was breaking from cover.
"Nah you're still a terrible shot" Hopefully a joke would loosen the tension in the air.
"Fuck you, asshole" was the reply. It seemed less tense. Now or never.
"Look man I'm gonna come out now okay? Don't fucking shoot me" He waited for the reply. It was a long time coming.
"Slowly dude, It's pretty crazy out there." He left it at that. He didn't need to say anymore. Jack and Jess had been lucky. They started out from a pretty isolated location and managed to avoid people for the main trip there. If Jack remembered correctly Andrew's section had been downtown. Undoubtedly he had seen some fucked up things.
Slowly, so slowly Jack stood up and stepped around the corner. He kept his hands in plain view. Not up precisely, but visible enough to keep him from getting himself accidentally shot. The 1911 was fully visible in its resting place in the front of his pants. He wasn't trying to hide it. He wanted the other man to know that he was armed and had no intentions of drawing. Not that it would do any good, the gun was empty.
"You alone?" Andrew was nervous but seemed to be calming down thankfully.
"No I have two others behind cover waiting for me to say it's safe to come in. You?" Jack was hoping there were others in the building, it would make the trip up island a lot safer. Then again a full platoon might not be enough to get them where they were going safely. He could comfortably house that many.
"Me and three others. Joe, Mark, and Tawny" That made sense they were in his section. By now Andrew had had holstered the Beretta so it seemed safe to approach.
"Mind if we come in? I'd like to get us off the street" That was most definitely the truth. Jack hated being so exposed. Especially with ducklings in tow.
At Andrews indication Jack signalled to Jess and Tricia to come out from behind the planter. The four of them moved deeper into the building. The lights were out so while not completely dark there was a significant gloom about the place. It fit with the circumstances. Telling the others to wait near the entrance hallway Jack headed off toward his gear locker. He needed to feel in charge again. It was both a problem and a blessing of his. He always needed to be in control of any given situation. While it often caused his personal relationships to suffer, his drive for perfection were what caused him to excel in both his designs and in the general running of his company. Reaching his locker, he opened the lock and was thankful his paranoia had actually worked in his favour for once. Inside were two separate sets of kit. One was the standard Canadian Forces issue CADPAT Tac vest and helmet, but hanging next to it was a piece of kit that would always hold special meaning to him. It was the original vest that he had pitched to the Canadian Forces. The one that started it all, The SKORPIAN plate armour. The exterior was based off of the USMC plate carrier though underneath the Coyote brown MOLLE and cordura nylon was a set of overlapping plates made out of an advanced lightweight ceramic polymer. It had full neck to stomach coverage and weighed slightly less than the current CF Frag vest. If you stripped it down to nothing but the plates it would look like some kind of medieval fantasy armour. Where it outshone the competition was that it was slightly cheaper, and would stop a 7.62 round fired from an AK-47 in its tracks. Shrugging into the vest he clipped his American style MICH helmet to the front of his vest and strapped on his thigh holster. Luckily the SERPA holster had been designed for the CF's Browning Hi-Power and would fit a 1911 easily. Looking himself over he admitted that he looked like a gear whore, those people that buy all the tacti-cool gear to make it look like they were in a modern warfare video game but fuck it. It will keep him alive. The last thing was to grab his sling and Arabic style Shemagh scarf to keep the vest from chafing and he was set. Slamming the locker closed, he walked back over towards the three who were still waiting for him by the entrance.
"Hey Drew, you got any .45 ACP?" Jack would need ammo for the 1911. He was definitely keeping it.
"No but I think Solomine does"
Andrew MacTavish and Mark Solomine were the unit's weapons enthusiasts. Both of them being weapons techs like Jack himself if any one was going to have a certain type of ammunition among them it would be those two.
"Cool I'll ask him. Do me a favour go get everyone, bring them here. I have something to run by you guys." Jack saw the confused look Andrew gave him but he went anyway and that was the important thing. Three minutes later the Andrew was back with three others. Jack looked them over. Drew was about 6'2" with tanned skin, dark hair, and brown eyes. Mark was the opposite standing closer to Jacks 5'9" with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. Joe Ramirez suited his heritage by standing shorter at 5'6" with dark chocolate brown eyes and dark almost black hair. His permanently tanned complexion spoke to his being born in El Salvador. The last of them was Craig Tawny who was 6'0" 260lbs of pure muscle. The man was a bear. A supply tech who spent most of his free time in the gym. Jack swore he saw him pick up a car once. Admittedly it was the back end away from the engine but still it was damn impressive. As they all gathered in he mentally prepared himself for what he was about to reveal to them.
"Okay now that your all here I have something important to tell you." Jack could tell that while curious they were still wary. Nerves were frayed right now, and everyone was one loud noise away from full fight or flight freak-outs.
"You all know me as Jack Hawkins. Master Corporal from Ontario that you never hear from outside of the military. That's because the rest of the week my name is Jonathan Hawkings, CEO of TAC-6 Industries." That got their attention. He could see their reactions varying from disbelief, to shock, to outright anger at being lied to. "I kept this from you because I enjoyed having a life where nobody knew I was privately worth well over a billion dollars. However right now it's actually working in our favour. I have a house, well more like a compound, up-island with security that actually more than crosses then line into illegal. As long as you're inside the walls I can guarantee your safety. Are you interested?"
Their reactions were as expected. Lots of yelling, lots of questions, but after about twenty minutes he had each of them not only believing him but agreeing to go along with him.
"Ok well before anything else we have to be able to get there. What have you guys gotten done so far?"
Not much apparently. Like Jack and Jess. They had been cut off from the rest of the convoy and missed the evacuation. After camping out in an apartment building for the night, they had had to fight there way here. Once they got here, severely low on ammo, they had spent their time trying to find the keys for the weapon and ammo vaults. Four separate keys in total, none of them kept in the same place. Two of them Jack knew for a fact weren't even in the building. These men should know that. It was a sign of the panic that had everyone that he had to point it out to them.
"Listen we need to get this out of the way now. If were going to do this, I'm in charge. Its my house, my supply lines, my gear. I want no arguments. If you can agree to that your welcome to come. Otherwise I'll see that your armed before we leave but that's it. You'll be on your own. Is everyone cool with that?" Jack let out a breath when he saw the nods around the circle including the women. He had been counting on everyone accepting. He wasn't sure he would get there without them.
"Good, alright let's get started. Drew head to maintenance and get the acetylene torch, we're cutting the doors open. Joe get me keys to two MILCOTS. Whichever ones you can get backed into maintenance the fastest. Don't go outside yet though. Craig take Jess and the Doctor to supply and get them to help you. I want radios for everyone here. Get the 521's. I also want a box or two of rations. Then head to the medic supply lines and help the doctor load up a ready bag of whatever medical supplies she needs to get us there in one piece. Mark I need a box or two of .45 ACP if you can spare it, then your going to help me and Drew get into the vaults." Jack paused for a second after issuing his rapid fire orders. After making sure everyone was following him so far he continued. "Before all that I want everyone kitted up in full battle rattle. If you don't have armour break into lockers until you find some. Then get whatever kit you need to maintenance." With that he sent everyone off to their assigned tasks. He himself went to find a sledgehammer. One of the perks to being insanely rich with very high ranking contacts meant that he could get favours done that were a little, unusual if he was willing to spend the money. One of those favours was sitting behind a false wall in the ammo vault. Technically secured and procured through the military supply lines, it was paid for by himself and not the military.
He found what he was looking for in the back of one of the recovery trucks. A 10lb sledge would be enough to punch through the drywall between Jack and what he was looking for.
"Here, I could only spare one box but I had a couple of extra mags if you need one." Mark sounded a little out of breath as he came up to him. He must have run.
"Thanks" Jack said, accepting the .45 caliber rounds from the blonde man. "Let's get down to the vaults, Drew should be firing up the torch by now." They walked side by side down the hallway with Mark only sparing a questioning glance at the hammer over Jacks shoulder.
When they reached the T junction in the hallway they saw Drew already working at the hinges on the vault door. He had cut through one already and was working on the second by the time they walked up next to him. Jack set down the hammer and began reloading the magazine on the 1911. As he loaded each round he spared a thought towards the fucked up situation they were in. Whoever had planned this evacuation had done a shit job of it. From what he could tell, only half of the overall population had been evacuated. What kind of fucked up politician thought that it was a good idea. He knew he was avoiding the truth but he didn't care. The truth was that the blame didn't lie on the government alone. It had been a shit situation and the people in charge had done the best they could. Granted the people in charge were also idiots but that was to be expected.
After sliding the last round into his second mag he slid the refreshed magazine into the 1911 and with a satisfying sound chambered a round. He then put the weapon on safe and re-holstered it. Drew was just now finishing with the second hinge and was moving on to the next door that contained the Military Police weapons. That was the vault that Jack was waiting for. But for now he grabbed a pair of bolt cutters that Drew had brought out with the cutting torch and set to work on the padlocks holding the weapons in their racks. By the time he had everything opened Andrew had finished with the second door and was moving on to the Ammo vault. Jack grabbed a C9 light machine gun and brought it out and set it down next to Andrew. "Once we get the ammo I want you to take this and head back to the front door. You keep out anybody hostile who tries to come in. Remember your trigger discipline. Don't shoot unless you have to." With that Jack walked over to the MP vault and ripped the door down off of its melted hinges. It fell to the ground with a loud crash. Walking in he set to work on the Weapon locks. The MP's used different weapons than the other units in the armouries. Where the Service Battalion used C7's the Canadian improvement on the American M16, C9's which were again a variation of the SAW used by the Americans, the Browning Hi-Power, and the Carl Gustav recoilless rifle, The MPs used Remmington 870 shotguns, C9's, Sig Sauer P-225's, and C8's. Where the C7 was an improvement on the M16, the C8 was an improvement on the M4 Carbine. This last one was the weapon that Jack was after. He had a C7 assigned to him in the Service Battalion vault but he much preferred the lighter weight and EOTech Holographic sight on the C8. Pulling one off the rack he grabbed a bolt from a nearby locker that he had previously cut open. Cracking open the weapon he dropped the bolt in and reassembled it. Before he even realized it he was preforming a function test by habit. With that completed he attached it to the black single point sling already wrapped around him and let the rifle hang at his side. He walked out just in time to see the door on the ammo vault fall open. Walking into the open vault he cut the lock off of the ammo locker to find his fears confirmed. On any given day they had plenty of blank ammunition in the locker but no live rounds. Whenever they went to the range an order would be placed to the Rocky Point ammo depot and they would pick it up the day before. As such there was three cans of blank rounds and absolutely no live ammo.
"Fuck!" Drew yelled. "What the hell are we supposed to do now? Point our guns and yell budget cuts every time we pull the trigger?"
Jack calmly stood up and walked back out into the hallway. He had prepared for this a long time ago by having some modifications made when they renovated the vault. It had cost him nearly a hundred grand to get the people involved to look the other way while he altered the contractor's instructions but it was now obvious that it had been worth it. He grabbed the Sledgehammer that he had leaned up against the wall and walked back inside. Sliding the useless ammo locker out of the way, he ignored Andrews startled yells and swung the hammer as hard as he could against the drywall. Mark ran in to see what the noise was as he pulled the hammer free and swung again. Over and over he smashed the drywall until there was a sizable hole near the floor of the vault. Tossing the hammer aside, he knelt down, pulled a flashlight from his vest and peered through the drywall dust into the hole inside the wall. Seeing the large black Pelican Box inside he grabbed the handle and heaved it out. Reaching back inside he pulled out a second.
Popping open the tabs he revealed enough ammunition to supply a small uprising. It was a soldier's wet dream, 5.56 ball for the C7s and C8s, 5.56 link for the C9s, 00 Buck for the shotguns, 9mm Parabellum for the handguns, even frag grenades and 86mm shells for the Carl G. Turning to the other two he said "Andrew grab two C9 boxes and head out to the door. Mark, see if Craig and the women are done and get them here to help you start balming mags. I want everyone to have a full combat load of ten. Balm it all. I don't want any left in the boxes." With that said he went to go and see how Joe was doing with his assignment.
He found him down the adjoining hall in the supply office putting down the crowbar he used to pry open the transport key press. "You picked the trucks yet?" Jack asked as he walked in.
"Got em boss, just needed to get the keys." Joe said over his shoulder as he searched through the key press for the right CFR numbers.
"Alright, grab them and head over to the vault and get yourself a weapon and ammo." With that said Jack headed back over to the vault. As he got there he saw Craig and the other two frantically loading magazines alongside Mark. As each empty mag was filled it was placed in a growing stack next to the pile of empty magazines.
"Where's the kit?" Jack asked as he walked up and starting grabbing from the stack of full magazines.
"Piled in maintenance, I also grabbed a couple of Recce tents just in case." The Nordic giant replied without looking up from his work. He and Tricia were using the mag chargers in each ammo can to load each 5.56 mag ten rounds at a time while Jess was hand balming the pistol mags one round at a time.
"Your radio is over there." Craig continued gesturing to a nearby weapon rack where an AN/PRC-521 radio was sitting with a headset attached. "Everyone except for you has one now"
Looking around Jack realized he was right. Everyone had one of the headsets strapped on while they worked. Even the doctor had one with the radio stuffed into the front pocket of the pullover hoodie she had found. Jack took the radio and slid it into the pouch on his vest made specifically for that purpose. Clipping the talk button to his vest to keep it from bouncing around he put the headset on and keyed the mic. "This is Jack, radio check" One by one every one keyed in that they heard him loud and clear, even though most of them were standing next to him loading magazines. After loading up his vest with ten magazines he grabbed another one and fitted it into his rifle, slapping the bottom to make sure it was fitted correctly. Grabbing the cocking handle he racked the weapon with the distinctive shlick shlock noise he had grown to love. Putting the weapon on safe more out of habit than anything he grabbed Joe who had finished loading up on his own ammo, and together they headed towards the maintenance bay and the back compound. They stopped when they reached the bay door. Silently they started gearing up to go back outside. Jack pulled on his gloves, hard knuckle Oakleys that he had a fondness for. Okay he was willing to admit if only to himself that he was a bit of a gear whore, but what was the point of having money if you couldn't spend it. After that he wrapped the scarf around his head concealing his face and saw Joe doing much the same with his own scarf. He had to remove the radio headset in order to properly get it on but once it was he replaced the headset and put on his helmet. Securing it down snug, he pulled the cover off the tinted ballistic goggles attached to the top of the helmet, Oakleys again, and pulled them down over his face. With their features now completely obscured from head to toe, Jack from necessity due to who he was, and Joe because he was following Jack's lead, they went over their plan. It only took them a couple of minutes to work something out, and with that in mind they got set. With a nod from Jack, Joe began pulling the chain to crank the bay door open moving as quickly as he could. When it was open enough to get a truck through, Joe sprinted out heading for the closest truck that he had keys for. Jack scanned the fence line hoping against hope that he didn't see anything. Not with Ramirez out exposed like that.
Luckily no one showed themselves and Joe was able to get in the truck and quickly back it inside. Slamming the bay door closed, they reversed positions and got ready to go on the next door. Jack starting pulling the door chain as fast as he could and sprinted out for the truck. Only to have what felt like a lead baseball bat hit him in the chest. He realized he was flat on his back on the ground at the same time he became aware of the gunfire around him. Scrambling for cover, he slammed his body behind the engine block of the nearest truck. Peeking around the side he saw three people in the process of hopping the fence while another shot at them through a gap in the privacy screen. Squeezing off two quick shots, he keyed his mic and yelled "Contact! Contact rear compound! Get the weapons into the back of the truck, we are NOT leaving them for these people!"
After that he focused on the fight. The first three had managed to take cover and were shooting towards Jack and Ramirez who had taken cover behind the wall of the maintenance bay. Luckily only the first one was any good of a shot and he was busy climbing the fence. A carefully aimed shot took him out of the equation and he hung from the fence limply. The other three continued pouring fire on them. While inaccurate there was enough of it incoming that eventually something would hit. It occurred to him that there was too much fire to be coming from three people with civilian weapons. Apparently they had gotten their hands on C7's and ammo. Bay Street Armouries must have fallen. After about five minute of trading fire eventually the last of them were taken care of. Climbing up to his feet he called the all clear into the radio. Getting into the truck he was after he was thankful that it hadn't taken any fire other than a bullet hole in the door. Both him and Ramirez were also unhurt other than the round he took to the vest. When they got back in and shut the door with both trucks inside, Jack saw that everyone except for drew was there and was currently loading the first trucks with the weapons from the vault as fast as they could.
"This the last of them?" Jack asked the group
"Yeah this is the last load." Jess responded. She seemed to be holding it together fairly well despite the rush and panic they were now under.
"Jack… you're gonna want to see this." This from Drew over the radio. He sounded worried. Which of course made Jack worried.
"I'm on my way."
Jack rushed out to Andrews position and got down next to him.
"We've got company though I don't think they know were here. Probably drawn by the sound of the firefight but they don't know where it was." Andrew was referring to the sizable crowd gathered on the road about 50 metres down from the armouries.
Suddenly two figures were pushed out from the middle of the crowd. It was the father and son from earlier.
"Oh no…" Jack muttered under his breath. "No no no no no" Andrew was lining up a shot and cocking he C9.
"No" Jack put his hand on Drews shoulder. "We can't. We're not ready and there's too many of them even for this gun." God he wanted to though, so much. The father was missing his shotgun and his shirt was torn and cut and covered in blood. His face was a solid mass of blood and bruises. His son wasn't much better.
"Fuck that they're gonna kill em" He flipped the safety off.
"Stop. I understand, believe me I do but if you do that now we are all dead. Every one of us. We can't intervene, not against that many." The crowd was easily in the hundreds and they had separated the father and son forcing the father onto his knees, the son they held apart from him. He was just out of arms reach if they hadn't had his arms secured behind his back. The boy, that cute, sweet little six year old boy with a mass of curly blonde hair on his head. That boy died in front of his father as his throat was slowly cut.
Jack swore that it didn't matter if he lived to be a hundred, he would never again hear pain the likes of which came out that little boy's father. Jack knew he would take that sound to his grave.
After a minute of letting the father scream the man who killed the son calmly pulled out a handgun and shot him in the head.
Tears were streaming down Jacks face and he knew the same was coming from Andrew's, he could feel the man sobbing next to him.
"Jack we're ready to go" Came the voice over the radio. Jack stood up and Andrew stood with him. Neither man spoke until Jack keyed his mike and in a dead flat voice, keyed his radio and said "Acknowledged, everybody grab a C9 and grenades. We have work to do."
With that the two of them headed back to the trucks. When they arrived Jack haltingly told them what happened and watched as their faces grew first horrified and then stonier with every word. He gave them their orders on how the crowd up front would be dealt with and they loaded up, everyone holding a loaded C9 as ordered and almost eager to use it except for the doctor. She held a Shotgun and tried to stay as low as possible.
As the two trucks pulled out Jack had them stop in the middle of the road facing away from the crowd. People were just starting to turn as he and Andrew each stepped out with their C9s slung, and a grenade in each hand. They took three paces toward the crowd, put their hands together, and with each hand pulled the pin of the grenade in the opposite. With a calm almost synchronized toss, they threw the grenades underhanded into the middle of the crowd and turned back to the trucks. The explosives went off with four loud whumps muted by the crowd of people around them. The grenades sent sprays of blood and body parts flying into the air as Jack and Andrew turned around and slowly walked back until they reached the trucks. When they got there they were met by everyone except for the doctor already waiting with machine guns leveled. As soon as they made it back to the firing line they turned and leveled their guns. As one all six of them opened up with their belt felt, gas operated, open breech, 5.56mm death machines.
It was a fucking slaughter.
The street became a meat grinder. You hear about "the pink mist" in video games but you never understand until you actually see it. It literally looked like a cloud of pink fog hung over the street as they all died ten, twenty at a time. When they were done, nobody spoke a word. They just got in their trucks and drove away. The street was covered in meat. That was all that was left of the crowd of killers. Meat and bits of bone.
From overhead the crows wheeled and fell.
Well! That got dark didn't it? Anyway I'm coming off a Night shift writing this so my mind can't really come up with anything deep and insightful to say about the story so I'm not going to try. Have a good one and I'll try to post more frequently from now on. - Boxer