Target Deck - 02 (62 page)

Gripping the dead driver around the throat, he callously pried him out of the HMMWV and dumped his corpse on the runway. Slipping into the truck he keyed his radio.

“Don't shoot, I'm getting on the gun,” he warned Nikita.

Clawing his way into the gun turret, Deckard saw that there was not a machine gun mounted but rather an
MK-19
grenade launcher. The MK-19 was jumbo sized machine gun that fired linked 40mm grenades. With the chain of High Explosive rounds already fed into the feed tray, Deckard reached forward and grabbed the charging handles on either side of the weapon. Muscling the massive bolt inside the receiver to the rear, he made the weapon ready to fire and flicked off the safety switch on the sear mechanism.

Ignoring the rear sight and front sight blade, Deckard held down the butterfly trigger and walked the exploding grenade rounds towards an approaching HMMWV. Inside the MK-19 the bolt slammed home, delivering a 40mm grenade down range as the expended shell casing fell out of the bottom of the receiver.

A line of grenades launched from the barrel in a steady but hollow sounding
thwunk-thwunk-thwunk
until the MEK vehicle was stitched from side to side. Each grenade exploded with a brilliant flash of yellow light, a shower of sparks accompanying each mini-detonation. A cyclic rate of 350 rounds per minute equaled a lot of ordnance going down range.

With the HMMWV reduced to a rolling fireball, Deckard transitioned to the next vehicle. His grenade fire shredded the HMMWV's tires, causing it to skid across the runway before stopping. Deckard's next burst of fire easily punched right through the flimsy metal doors and got inside the vehicle, reducing its occupants to a red vapor mist.

Behind him, Kurt Jager jumped onto the hood of another disabled HMMWV and dropped down into the gun turret, taking control of the .50 caliber machine gun, adding it to the fray. Each bullet was about the size of a finger and was absolutely devastating on the unprotected enemy vehicles.

Another group saw the carnage and attempted to dismount from their vehicle before being torn to shreds. Deckard turned the MK-19 on them as they attempted to run to the cover of the hangars. The grenade launcher spat 40mm rounds into their path, ripping them into red ribbons of flesh. Disembodied arms and legs spun through the air as the MEK terrorists were caught in the open.

For the first time in a long time, The Arab was shocked. Somehow the mercenaries had quickly turned the odds in their favor, to the point that they had captured two of the strike force's crew-served weapons and put them into operation against the other MEK vehicles.

The Americans were not retreating back into their position but were instead charging right into the strike force, killing them, and tearing them limb from limb. As The Arab watched one of the men take command of the MK-19 grenade launcher and rip through a half dozen MEK men, he knew the battle had reached a tipping point.

“Come Abdullah,” he said to his nearby assistant. “Now is our last chance. While they are distracted, we can hit them from behind where they are exposed.”

Motioning to the remaining nine men in his squad, The Arab, along with Abdullah, led them toward the firefight. Moving abreast of each other, they formed a hasty assault line. Two of the mercenaries were in the MEK trucks using the heavy weapons while the other two were using them as cover to fire at what was left of the strike force.

The Arab moved down into the drainage ditch where the infiltrators had taken cover from the initial assault. He found the body of a white devil, but not a soldier. It was the facility manager. Next to him were two bags filled with documents. They were of no concern to The Arab, so he continued to lead his men, closing on the enemy positions.

Once they had the mercenaries in sight, The Arab raised his AK-47 and fired.

Deckard felt something slap his back as he was pushed on top of the MK-19, forcing him to release the trigger. Bullets smacked into the HMMWV like heavy raindrops, each round landing with a
thwack
. Pulling down on the handle, Deckard rotated the gun ring around as he realized that they were taking fire from behind them. Another bullet punched through the green ammo can holding the linked 40mm grenades, while another shot grazed across the roof of the truck.

In the vehicle beside him, Kurt collapsed and fell from the turret, disappearing from view inside his HMMWV. Aghassi began climbing up and into the gun as Deckard sighted in with the MK-19. The death squad they had encountered earlier had finally decided to engage, probably waiting for them to be weakened by the second MEK element.

Thumbing down the trigger, he let off a single round before another hammer blow struck him in the chest, ripping him off the grenade launcher as he staggered backwards into the edge of the turret. First he had taken a round in the rear trauma plate in his plate carrier and now another round in the front plate.

Aghassi opened up with the .50 cal just as Deckard thumbed down the MK-19's trigger a second time. At close range, the effects were absolutely devastating. The 40mm rounds were tearing off legs below the knees as the grenades bounced off the tarmac before they had a chance to reach minimum safe distance and arm themselves. In one case, a MK-19 grenade struck an advancing MEK terrorist in the face, dropping him.

The .50 cal machine gun was chewing through the enemy as they walked right into Aghassi's stream of Armor Piercing Incendiary rounds. Pat had dropped to the ground and was returning fire with his AK-103 while Deckard and Aghassi shot right over his head. Looking over his shoulder, Pat shouted up to Deckard.

“That guy is getting away!”

Deckard looked to see someone dart behind the first disabled HMMWV, the one Pat had shot with the LAW. He was somewhat more clever than his late comrades, using the vehicle as cover he then ran down the runway making sure to place Aghassi's HMMWV between himself and Deckard so that only one of them could fire at a time. At that moment, Aghassi was still shooting and couldn't hear Pat or Deckard above the chaos.

“Take the gun,” Deckard yelled down to Pat. Deckard suspected he knew who was making a run for it.

“You're going after him?” Pat said as he stepped up onto the hood to take over on the MK-19. They were still taking some more gunfire from what was left of the strike force. “I want to come with you.”

“I saw Kurt go down, Aghassi needs to treat him while you keep up the rate of fire.”

Deckard jumped out of the truck and ran down the runway. Halting, he adjusted the focus ring on his PVS-15 night vision goggles until he spotted the black form of a human being running off in the direction of the aircraft graveyard.

Maybe he could arrange an interception.

“Shooter-One,” he radioed. “Give me a sitrep.”

“I fired through all five magazines for my sniper rifle. Down to just a pistol.”

“Move forward and pick up an enemy's weapon, then coordinate a link up with Pat.”

“Roger.”

Holding his rifle at port arms, Deckard ran across the landing strip, keeping the fleeing terrorist in sight until he disappeared into the shadows of one of the jumbo jets off in the distance. After that, all he could do was vector in on the 747 where he last saw the runner and try to pick up the trail again as he got closer.

The Arab swung around, snarling as he spotted one of the Americans. Somehow, he knew that his pursuer had to be the mercenary commander that he and his squad had been targeting south of the border. It was the only answer that made sense. Amazingly, he had escaped the suicide attack on the island. Later, the executions at the Christian mission had failed to draw him out. Psychological studies drawn up by his employers said that it was almost certain that he would throw his forces into a fray immediately after a massacre of that magnitude.

Finally, there was the IED. The Arab had triggered the explosives with a cell phone detonator, striking the lead vehicle in the Samruk International convoy as they departed Oaxaca. The mercenary commander appeared to like leading from the front. Only later was it discovered that he had been in another vehicle. Since cutting a deal with the United States after the invasion of Iraq, MEK had never been on the defensive like this before. Now their terror cells had been annihilated in the blink of an eye.

Running under the belly of an old jumbo jet, The Arab continued to a mid-sized aircraft and settled down behind the forward landing gear. This was his last chance.

The loss of Abdullah and his men did not concern him. He could not feel for them even if he wanted to. His only concern was escape and if he didn't finish off the American mercenary he would be looking over his shoulder for the rest of what would probably be a short life.

Lining up the rear u-shaped notch sight with the front sight post on his AK-47, The Arab didn't have to wait long.

Then the mercenary appeared, looking from side to side as he stood underneath the jumbo jet.

The Kalashnikov bucked up into his shoulder and his target dropped.