GOTU - A Robin Marlette Novel (24 page)

“If there isn't a back door, there must be windows,” Rick yelled. He switched to the MP-5 he brought as a back up. There were just too many bad guys coming at them to be using a bolt action rifle. Bullets whizzed overhead and smacked into the concrete scattering chips everywhere. Doug's Galil roared reply.

Rick glanced to his left. Mark and his team seemed to be holding their own. He could see Willy Young helping with the south bunkhouse men. The south bunkhouse charge went off. The concussion stunned Rick, and debris started raining down on them. Seconds later, the north bunkhouse charge went off. A thick cloud of dust glowed and swirled in the security lights, covering the compound. More debris flew through the air. The gunfight slowed down to a few scattered shots.

“Two Nora Six-Five to Two Nora Six-Six,” Rick called Mark.

“Go, Rick.”

“We're going to move to your position to get ready for extract.”

“Ten-Four. We'll be watching for you.”

“Let's go, Doug.” Rick and Doug headed for Mark's team near the northeast corner of the ranch house. The gunfire picked up again. Doug moved in front of Rick. Rick heard the sickening slap of a bullet hitting flesh, and Doug went down in front of him. Doug uttered a curse, his voice filled with pain.

“Mark! Doug's hit!” Suddenly, Mark emerged from the dust and helped Rick pick up Doug and his rifle. Doug tried to walk, but he couldn't move fast enough. The other two men dragged him. They reached the other team's position and laid Doug down. Rick saw Doug had been shot in the buttocks. Rick turned his head and gasped as he saw Jamie lying on the grass with a wound to his head.

“He's still alive,” Mark said. They helped Doug get into a position to help with the fight. More men were coming at them, and the gunfight heated back up. These men were not yelling Spanish, but a different language.

“Arabs,” Mark yelled. “There are a helluva lot of them!”

Rick pulled out a grenade, pulled the pin, and tossed it at men trying to rush his position. It bounced to the left and went off. All the men went down, but a few seconds later half of them were shooting and starting to move again. Mark threw a grenade at another group. His grenade seemed to have more of an impact on them. Only one rose. Still it seemed an unending stream of men were coming out of both barracks.

“Come on, Rob. Call the extraction,” Rick muttered through the din. “This fight's going south.” Several seconds later, he heard Robin's voice call for extraction.

“I'm all right, Rob.”

Robin could see differently. Burke had an ugly wound on the right side of his face. His missing left sleeve revealed a bloody bandage on the shoulder, and the front of his camo fatigues looked dark with blood.

“Trinidad was a tough motherfucker,” he said, as if stating a simple fact. “I'm
all right
, Rob,” Burke said again, in response to Robin's concerned look.

Robin pointed to the door. “Rodriquez.” Burke nodded and seemed to rejuvenate somewhat. The gunfire continued outside. Rounds zinged through the house intermittently. Shouts of men in combat came from all directions. Explosions punctuated the gunfire. Robin tried the door handle. It turned.

“I'm going in, low and right. You cover me high from here,” Robin whispered. He held up a stun grenade. “On three.” Burke nodded. Robin pulled the pin on the grenade. He opened the door, and two rounds flew at them. Robin tossed the grenade, counted two, and went in. Burke fired a burst. The grenade went off. Robin made it to the corner of the entry to the master bedroom and dropped prone. Rodriquez fired five more rounds. A woman screamed words in Spanish…three more shots. The woman stopped screaming. So far, Robin counted eleven rounds fired by Rodriquez. There could be at least eight more.

Robin could hear muttering in Spanish, then in English. It kept alternating and getting louder. He pinpointed where Rodriquez was hiding in the large room. Robin hunkered behind an oversized oak rolltop desk in the corner of the room to the left and in front of Robin. He knew his Galil would punch through the wood of the desk, but for some perverse reason, Robin prepared another grenade. He pulled the pin and tossed it. It hit the floor and bounced to the exact spot where Rodriquez was hiding.

Rodriquez yelled. The grenade exploded with a bright flash and dense smoke. Robin moved to the corner of the bed and went to one knee. He saw a nude woman dead on the floor next to the bed. Rodriquez screamed as he staggered towards Robin, aimlessly firing his pistol in different directions. Robin rose like a ghost in the thick smoke and drove his rifle butt into Rodriquez's face, knocking him down. Burke came up next to Robin as Robin stepped over to Rodriquez and kicked the pistol away from him. Rodriquez was lying face up, blood pouring from his nose and mouth. His eyes met Robin's.

“I'm Robin Marlette.”

Rodriquez's eyes widened. His breath came faster. “You are a policeman. You…you cannot hurt me. It is the rule!”

Unrelenting ice gripped Robin's soul, creating a conflict so deep in his nature, he shuddered—but only for a moment. “When you try to kill me, the rules apply. But you tried to kill my family. You kidnapped my daughter. When you do such things, there are no rules.” Robin raised his Galil and pointed it at Rodriquez. He said, “GOTU.” Rodriquez screamed and crawled backwards, his bloody, contorted face a stark display of raw fear and hatred. Robin fired two rounds into Rodriquez's face, obliterating any recognizable feature.

Burke put his hand on Robin's shoulder. “There
is
a time to kill.”

“Let's get out of here.”

The two men hurried out of the room and into the hall. They went down the stairs. Through the front door, they could see dawn glowing behind the hills. Gunfire reverberated outside. A satchel charge went off to the left. Dust and debris flew everywhere.

“Extraction vehicles are here! Rocky! Marv! Robin! Burke! C'mon, let's go! We've got wounded! We gotta get out of here!” Mike screamed into the radio.

A voice came over the radio along with loud gunfire. “Get out of here, Mike. We can't make it. Marv's too badly hit…and I'm hit,” Rocky said.

Once at the door, Robin saw the two extraction vehicles were taking heavy fire as the perimeter teams got in them. “Burke, get to the vehicles.”

“I'm staying with you.” Robin looked into Burke's resolute eyes.

“Goddamn stubborn Indian.” Mike frantically motioned for Robin and Burke to come to the vehicles.

Robin keyed his radio. “Mike, go! We'll catch up. That
is
an order!” Robin looked to his left and saw Rocky and Marv crouched behind a small concrete building against the perimeter wall. They were shooting down the side of the ranch house. He and Burke moved to the corner of the house and saw the source of fire: five to six men with Uzis and AK-47s stationed near the car Robin had seen earlier.

“Let's light 'em up, Burke.” They opened fire, and immediately two of the men dropped. A third stood up, and Rocky shot him. The other men turned and ran to the back of the ranch house, shooting as they ran. Robin shot another one and he crashed into the ground.

“Burke! Go to Rocky!” Robin sprinted toward the vehicle. Bullets kicked up turf and dust as they ricocheted all around him. His left foot flew out from underneath him, and he went sprawling onto the grass. He jumped back up and ran another ten yards. Then a blow to his hip spun him around and onto the paved driveway. Robin crawled the rest of the way to the car, which immediately began taking fire. He opened the driver's door, and was relieved to find the keys in the ignition. He painfully climbed into the driver's seat and started the car, a BMW, and accelerated to Burke, Rocky, and Marv. Bullets thumped into the car, causing glass and metal to slice into and all over Robin. He hunched down and protected his eyes, screaming, “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” at no one in particular. He skidded up to the concrete building and all three men tumbled into the back seat, Marv cursing in pain.

“GO, ROB, GO!” Burke yelled. Robin floored the accelerator, and the car fishtailed forward. He straightened it out and made it through the gate. He felt relief for a half a minute until he saw headlights come out of the gate behind them, then more headlights.

“I guess it ain't over until the fat lady farts!” Robin muttered. He turned the headlights on to see better in the dawn's gloom. He looked down at the instrument panel. “Shit!” he said.

“What's up, Rob?” Burke asked.

“We're overheating. They probably nailed the engine.”

“Keep going!”

“No shit!” They careened through Santa Cruz, almost hitting an old pickup and a mule pulling a cart. They went another two miles.

“They're gaining on us, Rob!” Burke yelled. They could smell the hot engine. Smoke started to filter into the passenger compartment.

“We're losing power. We gotta stop and set up a defensive position soon. Start looking for a good spot.”

Burke leaned forward to Robin's ear and recoiled, shocked to see the right side of Robin's head and neck bleeding heavily. Burke swallowed hard. “Rob, Marv's in a bad way. We got to get him to a hospital.”

“I figured that, Burke, but I'm not a magician. This beamer's done.”

“That looks good up there, Sarge! To the left!” Rocky yelled.

Robin angled the car over and skidded to a halt. They all climbed out of the car. Robin saw Rocky dragging his left leg, his pants covered in blood. Robin's hip throbbed with pain, but he could still move. He pushed Rocky aside and lifted Marv out of the car, putting him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Marv screamed in pain.

“Rob, you're hit!” Rocky yelled. “There's blood everywhere.”

“We're all hit. Get moving.” Rocky hesitated. “Let's go, Rocky! Up the hill!”

Over his headset, Jack could hear the calls of men, his friends, wounded friends. He couldn't take it anymore. Without permission from Grassley, he jerked the stick right with hard right pedal and flew across the border, headed for Santa Cruz, slightly amazed Russ and Oscar made no objection. Jack looked over at Oscar, who scanned the area with his night vision. Jack's headset crackled.

“Super Four-Nine, Lima Two-One.”

“Go, Four-Nine.” Jack wondered who could be calling him.

“We are coming up on your left.” Jack looked over and saw a black HH-53 helicopter with no markings coming up into his view.

“Identify.”

“Heavy backup. You have two Angels behind you and coming up on your right.” Oscar strained to look to his rear right.

“I've got two U.S.A.F. Air Rescue 'Hawks.”

“Happy to have the company,” Jack said with relief. “Stand by while I get a Situation Report. Two Nora Six, where are the hostages?”

“Victor Thirty-Two, Lima Two-One, we are approximately six miles north of Santa Cruz.” Ernie's voice sounded tense. With his night vision goggles, Oscar saw a vehicle speeding towards the border. He hit the spotlight switch and aimed the light at the vehicle. It stopped.

“That you, Ernie?'

“Yep.”

“Stand by, we're going to pick you up.”

Lima Two-One, Romeo Zero-Three we will be landing with you. Have your striper transfer to this helicopter tell him
it is an order
.”

“Roger, Zero-Three.”

Mike Collins came up on the radio. “Lima Two-One, Nora Six-Three, we are just now passing through Santa Cruz with many wounded, at least one critical.”

“Romeo Zero-Two, Nora Six-Three, are you dark?”

“Ten-Four…err, roger, sir.”

“Turn your lights on…okay, Nora Six-Three, we have you. Stop and stand by for pickup, we have what you need.”

“Roger.”

While the pickups were being made, the HH-53, with FBI HRT and a Delta team aboard, used onboard sensors to see into the night. The operator saw a vehicle careen out of the compound, followed by several others. He could see occasional muzzle flashes from the following vehicles.

“Super Four-Nine, Lima Two-One, are all of our people accounted for?”

“Negative, Four-Nine. We think we are missing four, including the team leader. We've been trying to make contact, but we're not getting an answer.”

“Romeo Zero-Two, our new passengers confirm four team members still in the compound, last seen under heavy fire.”

Jack flew over the compound, looking for Robin and the others. He followed Ernie's suggestion to use the rockets on the buildings storing all of the dope.

“Lima Two-One, Two Nora Six, are you in the compound?”

“Negative, Two-One. We are in deep shit a couple of miles north of Santa Cruz. We need help!”

“Stand by.”

“Super Four-Nine, we have their position and we are moving in. Romeo Zero-Three, follow us in.”

“Zero-Three, roger.”

“Nora Six, we have you in sight and are moving in.”

Robin and the others struggled up the hill. They found a small depression in the ground and jumped into it. Robin laid Marv down. Marv looked at Rob with a weak smile. “I always wanted a sergeant to be my valet.”

“I assume since you can still be a smartass, you can still fight.”

“Yes, sir.” Robin handed Marv back his MP5.

“You got north.”

“I'll take care of it, Rob.” Marv's words were slurred.

“I got east,” Burke volunteered.

“Rock, take west. I got south.”

“Roger, Sarge.”

Robin saw the other vehicles had stopped, but he could not see any men.

Loud whooshing sounds echoed across the desert, and the early dawn sky lit up in the direction of the compound. Robin heard the roar of a Minigun. A shadow moved in front of him and then dropped. It rose again, and Robin fired. The shadow yelped, and it sounded like a man rolled down the hill. Radio traffic constantly streamed between Jack and several others. Burke and Rocky continued firing. Gunfire erupted from Robin's side, and bullets kicked up rocks and dust around him. He ducked, and then rose back up. He fired at another figure moving to his right.

What felt like a mule kicked Robin in the back. At the same time, he heard a burst from a submachine gun. He heard Burke yell, then a scream and a shot. Robin couldn't breathe. He tried to suck in air, but pain gripped his chest and back. He braced himself on all fours, gasping.
Can't breathe!