Rise of the Death Walkers (The Circle of Heritage Saga) (27 page)

She was quick to answer me. "No, It just scared me that's all." The phone rang and she jumped.

I walked over to the phone and lifted the cradle. "Hello?"

"Are we scrambled?" The voice asked.

I checked the switch on the back of the phone and said. "Yes we are. Now you tell me how this slipped through your net?"

"I don't know. They should have never made it that far south." I could hear Blake cursing.

"You endangered my fiancée you idiot." I growled at him

"It won't happen again." He promised. "How is she?"

"She is pretty shook up about it." I replied. "You need to do your job better damn it. The group is supposed to be safe in Germany. There are families to think about."

"I know." He replied. "I am going to have you stand down for a few months and we will use the Austrian team for African operations."

"That's fine with me I can be a normal soldier for a few months. Try to hold it until after June because I plan on getting married and going on a honeymoon."

"OK we can do that but there are some summer operations you have to do because you're the best I have." His voice was tense.

"That's fine with me but make sure you do a better job at protecting the operation. If something happens to any of my men's families I will be coming after you." I waited for him to agree and then hung up.

Irma was looking at me with wide eyes. "Is it smart to talk to your commanding officer like that?"

"He needs me and he knows it. Rank works different in the type of operations I am involved in. Front line commanders," I pointed my thumb at myself. "have more say than chair warmers."

"So you are not going anywhere until after the wedding?" She looked relieved.

"That's the plan now but don't be surprised if something changes." I warned.

"I guess I have to get used to this type of stuff." she said dejectedly.

"Only for four more years love. Then you can give me a lunch pail and send me to work." I grinned at her. "Let's go to bed." I held out my hand to her and we walked together into our bedroom.

Chapter 21 - Plans

Despite promises that had been made to me, it was January 1984 and I was in Tunisia running another fool's errand for George Blake. The one survivor of the attack had let it be known that the leader of the cell we were after would be picking up a shipment of arms in a remote location south of Medenine. Blake would not trust the backup team with a mission of such importance. He wanted to shut this cell down once and for all. So the job fell to me and my team. The operation would be a difficult one because we would have to perform a HALO drop into the ocean to the southeast of Gabes and swim twenty-five kilometers along the coast of Africa to come up on to the suspected pickup point from the south.

A HALO drop is a high altitude, low opening drop that required full equipment plus the addition of a wet suit and breathing tank. Portable underwater transportation would be dropped in the location by a fishing boat registered to a friendly nation a few hours before our own scheduled drop. We could only hope that the equipment would not drift too far away from the original drop location.

We made the drop on schedule just after two am local time. This drop would be additionally difficult because we could only use the chute at below one thousand feet to prevent from being picked up by any of the local observation towers. Waiting so long to open was dangerous because if the primary chute did not open there was only about two point five seconds to claw out your reserve chute so it would be pointless to even attempt. Hitting the water at terminal velocity would be the equivalent of hitting a cement wall at one hundred and thirty miles per hour. Even if your main chute opened you would still be traveling at around seventy miles per hour when you hit the water. As a result, your position as you struck the surface of the water would be of paramount concern. You have to present as little surface area at the moment of impact. Pointing your toes would allow you to cut through the surface tension of the water like a chainsaw cutting through beech wood. If you hit the water with flat feet you ran the risk of jamming your hips into your shoulder at that speed.

We made the drop flawlessly much to my relief. This would not be my first water drop but I had been concerned about two of the new privates I had received in the last rotation. They both had under fifty drops and had only made one water drop during that time. I had Johnson set out patrols to watch for rebels and sharks, both which to me were members of the same species. I flipped the communications unit over to the scrambled group frequency and gave instructions to the point men. "Remember if you do chance on any sharks, maintain a position below them. Sharks can only attack upwards. Chances are they would not even spot you if your position is lower in the water. Communication silence from this point forward will be maintained. Click once to indicate you are in position. Two clicks from me will mean to move out." I nudged the communicator one potion lower to activate my private circuit with Johnson. "Find those sleds yet Johnson?"

"Fifty yards to the west of us Serge. Sending alpha team to retrieve them." Johnson replied back to me. I waited a count of thirty before he spoke again. "Retrieved Serge. Newman will be bringing command sled to you."

"Confirmed." I replied back. I flipped the red light of my diving helmet on and watched for my sled to arrive. Once Newman dropped it off I waited a twenty count for him to move back into position before clicking the com unit to general group frequency and clicking two times to signal the advance. I glanced at my watch and then settled in behind the sled. We had traveled twenty-five kilometers before I signaled to set aground. We shed our wetsuits and underwater gear. "Bury it all near the shore and set a transponder." We would need the gear as a possible exit in the event the primary pickup zone had been compromised, "Johnson send out scouts and we will move in ten mikes.” Mikes is military slang for minutes. “I want to hit the perimeter before first light." He nodded at me and sent out the point men.

We had been moving for two hours before Johnson circled back to me. "We have a possible contact to the east."

"Have bravo check it out. It may be civilian traffic and we don't want to hurt any innocents." I ordered him. He nodded back to me. I signaled a stop and had the men take up defensive positions while he checked it out. I reached out with my own mind to sense the area and could only feel the presence of a couple of local teens. Not finding anything threatening I waited for Johnson to report back. Once he reported the same thing I had already found, I signaled the group to move out again. Three hours later we had reached the rebel camp and moved into position. I was careful to keep the sun to my back and surveyed the camp below. Everything looked exactly the way intel had predicted and I was concerned. It was too much like the images that had been provided. There was nothing to even indicate anything had changed since the last photos had been picked up. "Johnson have alpha team move in closer to the supply dump. I don't like what I am seeing." I cleared my mind and searched the area myself. I found what was wrong within fifteen seconds and waited for Johnson to report back to me.

He low crawled back to my position and said in a low tone. "They have set up an ambush Serge. The supply depot is cleared and wide open for us to move in but they have three rings set up in a southern direction."

I nodded at him and thought for a moment. I was not going to walk into an ambush by any means but there was a way for me to turn this to my advantage. I opened a local map of the area and tapped two positions. "Send Delta and Echo to these two positions. Set up mortars and have them drop the first in the tubes at zero eight hundred. Leave Alpha in position. I want smoke in the depot at the same time. Smoke only because I will be moving in there. If we do this right they will be halfway out of cover before they realize what is going down. Alpha and Bravo will sweep in from here. Once they are in position I want you to turn the middle zone into the entrance from hell. Nothing will get out of there alive. Watch for Grovelman because he gets taken alive." Johnson nodded and took off to relay the attack plan.

What I was doing would be risky because I would be in the open for three to five minutes before the first smoke dropped. If Irma knew what I was about to do there would be hell to pay. I dropped half of my gear where I was laying and kept only two 45s and my favorite 44 with me with speed load clips accessible on my web belt. I was reluctant to drop my flak vest but I would need speed when I was into position.

Ten minutes before the smoke was to drop I had moved in as close as I dared and I watched the second hand on my watch. I had to time this just right. I cleared my mind and imagined the mind of a cheetah. Speed was the only thing that would help me here. I had to take the risk that my own men would see me doing something that should not be humanly possible. When I moved, I felt every obstacle in my path and had chosen the best cover possible.

With my attuned, heightened sense I saw the first rebel group move in my direction as they spotted me. Before I had reached the other side of the compound and circled back I had drawn every group of the rebels from their places of concealment. I dodged incoming fire and placed a stack of boxes between myself and the direction of five groups of rebels. Shots ricocheted off objects in my area. I felt one tug at the heel of my boot. Not wanting to be a stationary target for too long, I started back in the direction I had come at the precise moment smoke and mortar rounds dropped. I moved into the smoke yanking out both 45s and I began to fire at the shapes of the patrols that were coming toward me. I stopped, dropped and rolled to the right, and sighted in on one rebel whose face reminded me of the old Chevy my grandfather had driven against a post. I pulled a snap shot at him and punched him in the throat with a terminal dose of pure lead. More shots were falling around me, but they were in a pattern of pure panic with no thought being put into their direction.

Time slowed for me. I rolled back to the left and released a shot from both 45s both found their marks. A couple more rebels had several ounces of lead in their foreheads. I spotted a determined, savage look in the eyes of one rebels. He jumped to his feet and charged in my direction. I pulled off a shot and flipped backwards as the shot hit his magazine. It exploded, shredding his chest. Both magazines were empty now. The next rebel was knocking at my front door. I yanked my 44. The deep throated roar of Betsy caused a small hole in the man's chin and blew out the back of his head. I was almost back to my original position when I felt a slight pain in the back of my leg. Pain is the body’s way of letting you know. "Hey dude, something may not be right here." I twisted fell back down and rolled to my feet.

When I hit my feet I had fourteen inches of carbide steel gripped in my hands and was staring at the ugliest face I had ever seen this side of the Atlantic. Seriously this guy could make a living scaring bark off a tree with the mug he had. Hand to hand combat is a simple matter when you think about it. The object of it is to produce enough damage to your opponent, thus making him think twice at wanting to be too close to you at any time during the encounter. You have to do this while protecting your own body from his obvious desire to expose your insides to the outside world.

The term fair fight does not exist in the world of combat. The object of the game is to make him dead before you yourself reach that state. I had no second thought as he rushed me. I lifted my foot and attempted to relocate his family jewels to the back of his head. When his eyes went wide and he sucked in his breath sharply, I knew I had at least partially succeeded in my intended renovation of his body. While he stood there contemplating how he would use his newly relocated body part in the future, I swiped my knife in a lateral motion and created a new smile below his chin.

I turned at the sound of a high pitched scream to my left and there stood a wiry person who has assumed a martial art stance. He began to wave his hands around in a manner that looked like Jackie Chan in the midst of an epileptic fit. I stood there while he danced like a fool complete with the accompanying sounds of a monkey in heat and calmly snapped a free magazine in both 45s. When he completed is mating dance I rolled my eyes, brought up one forty five and placed three hundred grains of lead between his eyes.

The sounds of gunfire slowed to the occasional stutter. Mortar fire ceased entirely while I reflected on the stupid things some men did in combat. Johnson approached me with the thumbs up signal. I finally let my shoulders slump and forced my mind from combat, anything goes mode, to mop up the operation mode. "Call in the pick-up and lets go home."

Twenty hours later I was pulling up in front of my apartment in Philippsburg. I was freshly showered and sporting a new set of combat boots. My old ones had to be retired because a stray bullet had removed the heel. After I shut off the car. I stood for a moment and looked at the apartment building. Irma would be getting home soon from work and we were to go over to her mother's place and continue on plans for the wedding. I opened the door and went into the apartment.

In light of what had happened to me a month before, Blake had gotten me an official carry license sanctioned by the German government. I never left the house without being partially heeled. So I changed in the bedroom and went into the office to switch out weapons. I slid a pair of matched Berettas into the matching pair of ankle holsters and was again thankful that styles had swung back in the direction of bell bottoms. Otherwise I would have had to choose a different weapon. There were only so many places to hide a weapon when you wore jeans and t-shirts. I locked up the safe and replaced the floorboards when I heard Irma's key in the lock.

She came to the door of the office and looked in. "Hey baby, how was your trip?"

"Boring as usual." I complained. My cover story this time had been a training briefing in Brussels, so she did not expect that twenty hours earlier there had been a couple platoons of rebels intent on wiping me from the face of the Earth. "How was work today love?"