Alpha Threat (58 page)

“Looks like we stay here for a few minutes,” said Dane quietly.
 
Hugo was rummaging through the room.
 

“This is some kind of electronics shop,” Hugo said finally.
 

“The sign outside said something about aircraft I think,” added Dane.
 

“I’ll buy that,” answered Hugo.
 
Dane was still at the door listening.
 

“It sounds like they are moving a ton of stuff in the elevator.
 
We may be here for a while until they finish,” said Dane.
 

“I’ll tidy up a bit back here.
 
You keep an ear to the door.”
 
Hugo pulled the two bodies over into the back corner of the room and stacked several boxes and crates to hide them.
 
He crept back to the front of the room beside Dane.
 

“All nice and pretty,” Hugo quipped.
 
“Are we ready to go?”

“Let’s see,” answered Dane, cracking the door open for a quick look.
 
All looked clear and he did not hear anyone in the hall outside.
 
“Sounds like they all left on the elevator.
 
It’s time for us to use it now.”
  

Dane opened the door with his weapon leveled for action.
 
He looked both ways and stepped into the hall to his right.
 
Hugo followed leveling his weapon back to the left.
 
All was clear.
 
Dane let out a breath he had been holding.
 
They crept down the hall to the corner.
 
Still they heard no sounds.
 
Suddenly a small flashing red light up near the ceiling caught Dane and Hugo’s eye.
 
At the same time an alarm went off.
 
The speakers blared a warning:

“Achtung, Achtung, Warnung Rot, Keine Übung!”

 
“That can’t be good,” barked Hugo.
 

“No, it’s not,” answered Dane quietly.
 
“Sounds like they know we’re here.
 
Let’s move.”
 
The two burst around the corner as the elevator opened.
 
Dane fired first.
 
The man stepping out of the elevator reached for his sidearm but never made it.
 
A non-silenced shot rang out.
 
The report was deafening in the hallway.
 
Hugo looked up to see two men running down the hall toward them, weapons drawn.
 
Hugo dispatched both of them with a single silent burst of fire.
 
Just their falling to the floor made ten times the noise Hugo’s weapon made.
 
The two men stepped into the elevator and closed the door.
 

“We go to the bottom; right?” asked Hugo.
 

“Affirmative,” answered Dane.
 
“Then straight down the hall for about twenty yards and then take a left and ten yards to a stairway on the left.
 
That should take us into the bowels of this complex.”
 

“Lead on, Boss,” said Hugo quietly.
 
“I’m covering the rear.”
 
The elevator stopped two floors down.
 
Dane and Hugo hugged the side walls of the elevator ready for anything short of a hand grenade.
 
The door opened and a single technician reviewing papers on a clipboard stepped in.
 
The technician looked up and turned facing the elevator door.
 
His eyes opened wide.
 
Before he could react, the blade of Hugo’s knife slid into the man’s abdomen in an upwards thrust slicing into the technician’s heart.
 
He died before he hit the floor.
 
Dane closed the door and repressed the basement button.
 
When the door opened Hugo stepped out, weapon leveled for action.
 
No one was there.
 
Hugo placed the technician’s body outside the elevator.
 

Both Dane and Hugo were surprised that the environment down here was vastly different.
 
This level looked like it was underground.
 
The chilly air was damp.
 
The walls were poured concrete but the lime was leaching profusely from the mix.
 
In some places you could see water leaking through the walls and ceiling.
 
It was a far cry from the nice clean air-conditioned levels above.
 

“Are we in the right place?” asked Hugo, scanning the area outside the elevator.
 
“This place looks damn near like Hell except it is not hot.”

“To some it probably is,” said Dane quietly.
 
They headed quickly down the long hallway past several doors that looked as though they had not been opened in years.
 
“It doesn’t look like this place gets much traffic.”

Hugo nodded and kept moving.
 
They came to the left-hand turn.
 
Voices!
 
Someone was coming behind them.
 
The two men rounded the corner and ran directly into three armed guards.
 
Hugo fired and slammed himself up against the right side of the wall.
 
Two of the guards dropped dead in their tracks.
 
The third guard unshouldered his weapon and moved behind his two dead comrades and fired.
 
The bullets barely missed Dane’s head and smashed into the wall.
 
A bullet fragment smacked into Dane’s forearm.
 
Even with the bullets flying, Dane was able to get off a burst with his MP-5 and the third guard crumbled.
 
Hugo looked at Dane.
 

“You okay?” he asked.
 

“Fine,” said Dane.
 
“Took a bullet frag to the forearm but all is okay except for my ears.
 
I’m gonna bleed a little.”
 
Hugo took a quick look.
 

“Looks like just a scratch.”

The German weapon fire was loud and resonated throughout the basement.
 

“We gotta get moving before more guards come,” Dane said.
 
They started moving further down the passageway.
 
Once again they heard many footsteps headed their way.
 

“Here they come,” said Hugo, leveling his weapon ahead.
 
Within seconds a dozen Germans rushed around the corner.
  
Hugo unloaded a burst of fire, killing at least three.
 
But the return fire from the Germans was withering.
 
Both Dane and Hugo dove into door insets on both sides of the hall, firing constant bursts.
 
The unsilenced German weapons were deafening in these confined halls.
  
Bullets were ricocheting off the concrete walls with concrete chips and powder flying in every direction.
 
For a few seconds chaos reigned.
 

As the firing ceased, a heavy fog set in from the concrete dust.
 
The Germans pulled back to the far corner about twenty-five yards ahead.
 
Hugo stooped low trying the handle above his head.
 
It opened and he leaned on the door and dove in, reversing his movement and re-aiming his weapon down the hall.
 
Dane tried his door.
 
It was locked.
 
Damn, that was just his luck, he thought.
 
After a few seconds, Dane rather ungracefully leaped over to Hugo’s door and flew over him into the room.
 
The room was dark.
 
Dane couldn’t see his surroundings.
 
All he knew was they were safe from the incoming rounds from the Germans.
 
He crawled up behind Hugo.
 

“You see ‘em?” he asked.
 

“No, but they’re there,” answered Hugo.
 
Suddenly Dane heard a door open behind him.
 
Two Germans were silhouetted in the light coming in through the back door to the room.
 
One was crouched and the other stood behind him.
 
Dane tiptoed across the floor of the darkened room until he had a clear shot.
 
Two short bursts took both men down, one clearly wounded but in terrible pain.
 
Dane leaped under a desk for cover.
 
Chances were the Germans would try to get in again, probably from the front and back simultaneously.
 
Dane glanced back at Hugo.
 
He was gone!
 
Dane looked at the back door and saw shadows.
 
The Germans were coming in again.
 
He checked his clip and prepared for the onslaught.
 
Before he could take another breath, there were several long bursts of fire in the hall outside.
 
Dane heard a man scream and then heard several large thumps as several men fell.
 
He refocused his attention to the back door when a hand appeared waving.
 

“All clear.”
 
It was a familiar voice.
 
“Don’t fire, Boss.
 
It’s me.”
 
He gingerly poked his head in the door as Dane rolled out from underneath the desk.
 
“Taken to hiding, have we?” Hugo asked smiling.
 
Dane grinned.
 

“You crazy Texan, why the hell did you do that?” asked Dane, standing up.
 

“Hell, I figured you blocked the back door so I rushed the bastards from the front and caught all of them readying to rush you through here.
 
I moved in and mowed them down.”

“Well, I can’t argue.
 
It worked like a charm.
 
Let’s go.”
 
The two men stepped to the door, listened and resumed their search for the stairway.
 

Throughout the rest of Fortress Alpha all hell broke loose.
 
With the general alarm going off, Captain Boehm’s troops raced through the halls, checking critical rooms and locking down critical staff.
 
Most everyone in the complex was armed and hunting for the intruders.
 
On the Führer’s level, almost every inch of the level was teeming with heavily armed storm troops.
 
Massive blast doors were closed, virtually sealing in the Führer and her immediate, high-level staff.
 
The storm troops were deployed close to the outside of the blast doors.
 
Their job was simple.
 
Die before letting anyone get to the Führer.
 
And they were ready.
 

Monday, July 18, 2011

Fortress Alpha, Jorgen Maas’ Office;
 
7:35 a.m.

Reports of gunshots came pouring into Maas’ office.
 
While information from outside of the Fortress was sparse, the reports from inside the complex were numerous.
 

“Sir, we have shots fired on several levels.
 
Two technicians were killed on the hangar level.
 
Three men were shot and killed at the elevator on the hangar level.
 
A firefight has erupted with several of our men killed on the basement level.
 
All the disturbance is in the northwest quadrant,” reported Maas’ assistant, Max Delper.
 
Delper was a worried man.
 
Maas made it clear to him he was not happy with Delper’s actions in documenting the incursions.
 
Delper did not want to get on Maas’ bad side.
 
So Delper was particularly efficient in gathering and reporting all actions occurring throughout the Fortress.
 
He stood before Captain Maas waiting for his reaction.
 

“Move all available resources to the northwest quadrant.
 
Block all elevators and entrances.
 
They got in, but they will not get out,” Maas said sternly.
 
He looked directly at Delper.
 
“You still here?” he bellowed.
 
“Move your ass now.
  
And get troops to the basement!”
 

Maas thought for a second.
 
He knew where they were going.
 
Those sons-of-bitches were going after the two Americans jailed in the sub-basement.
 
But, he thought, the intruders would not know about the sub-basement.
 
He whirled around.
 
“I’m headed to the sub-basement.
 
Have all reports come to me down there!” he yelled as he opened his office door and strode off purposefully down the hall to the elevator.
 
When he turned the corner down the hall, he was pleased to see seven of his armed crack troops guarding the elevator.
 
They all snapped to attention.
 
“Open the damn door.
 
I’m going down there,” he barked to the group leader, who turned and began fumbling with the elevator controls.
  
Maas waited, becoming more and more frustrated with each second.
 
“Why am I waiting?” he shouted just as the elevator door opened, revealing several more armed guards.
 
Maas didn’t give anyone time to answer.
 
He stepped into the elevator and looked at the men.
 
“Get out now,” he said curtly, motioning them toward the open elevator door.