Desert takedown, p.7
Desert Takedown, page 7
He signaled Altman that they should pause and regroup. Before he finished his message, she gave her answer. With her weapon properly held up and tightly in, she rushed forward through the front door.
Crossing under the threshold, she slid to the right, Nathan followed left. With Maggie close in and ready, he found nobody immediately in front to deal with. A quick fanning motion brought into sight one hostile. Off to the side, Altman fired twice, the muzzle flares strobing the room and pulling the attention of Nathan’s target. That distraction gave him the time to aim and drop the man with one round.
“Clear,” Altman said.
“Clear,” Nathan said, turning to find that Altman had killed two men. He hoped his face did not betray his regret at watching the souls of the dead escape into the air. It would be a while until withdraw symptoms from losing his second soul became a problem, but that did not stop his body from reacting.
Neither Nathan nor Altman relaxed. They had taken out three men in the forward room, but there remained a short hallway, a bathroom, and a back room. Stepping over a body — a young man with Aryan features and a tattooed 88 on his thick neck — Nathan motioned for Altman to hold still. They listened.
The room smelled stale, and whatever device had been playing the music no longer made any sound. A Nazi flag decorated one wall. In the back corner, a laptop with a cracked screen struggled to operate despite the spilled cup of coffee soaking the keyboard.
No sounds, though.
Nathan inched toward the hallway, keeping out of line of sight. A muffled cough came from the back room. Nathan snapped a finger at Altman to stop her from charging the hall. Not only would that be reckless, but he needed her continued silence, so he could listen.
Motionless, silent, focused — Nathan waited.
And then he heard it. A whisper. And a single response to hush.
Signaling to Altman, Nathan indicated at least two targets, possibly three. If there had been more, he would have heard further noise. These men were too young to all remain calm and quiet for this long.
From her belt, Altman lifted a flash-bang grenade. Nathan covered his ears and turned his back on the hallway. He heard muted cries of alarm followed by the loud eruption of the grenade.
In the next seconds, he rushed behind Altman as she burst into the back room — a kitchen with the dining area converted into a surveillance center. She took out a man standing at the kitchen sink while Nathan killed the one by a row of video feeds.
He wanted to leap over and grab the man’s soul, but like before, he watched the gray mist seep from the man’s eyes and float upward, mixing with the smoke of the grenade. A twinge inside Nathan reminded him that he needed that soul. Wanted it. Had to have it. Of course, he had been without a second soul for far longer in the past, but missing out when they were available all around him ignited his base hunger to grow stronger.
Tamping those feelings down, Nathan swept through the kitchen, opened a pantry door, and hurried back to the check the bathroom. “All clear,” he said.
Altman had shoved aside Nathan’s kill and sat in front of the monitors. “Unless they ran a lot of cable underground into this building, all of these feeds are transmitting a signal. I bet Robin could make use of that.” She tapped her ear-comm but after a few breaths, she tapped it again.
“Without good surveillance satellites, she can only reach us on a cellphone sat connection which is very limited in the desert. Unless she wants to go old school and set up a shortwave radio signal,” Nathan said. “But for digital info out here, you’re lucky to get a consistent bar let alone two.”
“But you spoke with her.”
“That was quite a distance from here. Plus, these people are going out of their way not to be noticed. They might be trying to jam or interfere with any signals they don’t authorize.”
“So, we’re on our own?”
“We were on our own before. Just more so, now. Don’t worry about it, though. Robin will be working hard to re-establish a solid connection. Just be ready for her when she starts chatting up your ear again. Until then, we move forward.”
CHAPTER TEN
Before heading out, Nathan and Altman studied all five video feeds. The sleeping quarters were dark and quiet. A sentry paced up one side of the tents, crossed the sand road, and came back down the other side. The large tent presumably for headquarters appeared to have some activity. With a five-to-eight hour difference between here and the United States, many live communications had to be conducted at odd hours. Two sentries walked around the perimeter of the tent — one sentry going clockwise, the other counter-clockwise. Most importantly, the cameras watching over the training grounds showed the areas to be empty except for one sentry who, rather than patrolling the area, sat on a wooden bench and smoked a cigarette. Not unexpected, but good to confirm.
Altman said, “Layout is close to Commander Shi’s intel, but I don’t see how we can pull off our initial plan. Shi’s strategy was based on the majority of the guards being in this building.”
“We did take out five.”
“Stealth won’t cut it, now — not with all the active sentries.”
“If we skirt around the camp,” Nathan said, “we can keep cover behind the dunes and pop out right by the munitions tent in the training area. We control that, and we’ll have an easier time taking over this place.”
“Only problem is that once things go haywire — and you know they’ll have to if we’re going to destroy this camp — then it’ll be too easy for somebody to escape out the front. Or worse, they might take cover in the urban training ground. Then we’ll have to fight street warfare in the desert.”
Nathan narrowed his attention on the lazy sentry out by the training grounds. He tapped the screen. “We skirt around, take that guy out quietly. Then we relieve these racist bastards of all the munitions we can use. We bring those back and set up in the urban training area. Anybody trying to escape will have to come through us — it’s the only way to the only road. If anybody wants to run off in another direction, they’ve got nothing but endless desert to deal with.”
“Either we kill them, or the desert does it for us.”
“Exactly. I suppose one might try to navigate around us, head out into the desert and run parallel for a while before breaking back in hopes of finding the road, but in the confusion of battle, I doubt any of them will think of it.”
“Nazis are wankers, but they’re not training them to be cowards out here. They’ll all stay to support each other.”
“At least until the end. Those last few are the ones to worry about. Especially if they realize we’re not taking prisoners.” Nathan paused, hoping Altman would suggest what he had in mind. When she said nothing, he cleared his throat. “Maybe if we take one prisoner, we’ll stop that problem.”
She tensed. “The job is to raze the camp and everyone in it. If we fail, Commander Shi won’t give us the info on Russo.”
He tried not to let his exasperation show. Whether she wanted it or not, Nathan needed to get some answers — they were going to take a prisoner. He wished he could assure her that he would keep her sister safe, that he would use all the resources he had to not only protect her, but to find Russo and possibly cure her. But the best he could offer was to give Altman a hearty slap on the back and say, “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Moving swiftly across the sands, Nathan narrowed his mind onto the task at hand. He could not afford to be distracted by the issues surrounding Altman. He could not worry about Robin’s heavy interest in his immortality and where that might lead them. He could not even allow his mind to become concerned with what might happen should anybody discover the dead guards. For the moment, only one task existed.
They reached the far end of the camp without incident. Not surprising — most were asleep and none expected trouble. They were ghosts in an endless dark like those who lived in the old subways of New York City. Nobody would find them because nobody was looking.
Except this night, that was no longer true. For some reason, these psychotic boys playing at being real men in the desert drew the wrong attention. This night, Nathan K had been dispatched to stop a mess from happening. Nathan didn’t like any of it, but the men who would soon be destroyed were going to like it even less.
Settling outside the rings of lamplight, Nathan and Altman surveyed the area. Directly in front of them, the weapons and munitions tent stood. The guard smoking his cigarette, now on his third, had not left his bench across the field. He could see the tent with ease and probably figured the chances of anything happening to disturb his night were slimmer than none. Plus, cigarettes aside, he must have also been training for a while. Perhaps he could sprint across the field and get to Nathan fast enough to cause a problem. Even if he couldn’t physically stop Nathan, he could certainly cry out and alert the entire camp.
“We need to take out that guard first,” Nathan whispered.
“Right,” Altman said with a sharp nod. She scurried off, keeping to the shadows in the dark.
Nathan had intended to take out the guard himself — he wanted that second soul — but watching Altman work her way to the other side of the camp and approach the guard without alerting a soul, he noted her great capabilities. Very impulsive, yes. But very capable, too.
The guard took a final drag on his cigarette before flicking it off into the sand. As he exhaled the smoke, he arched his back and rolled his head from side to side. With his arms stretching outward, he could not have presented a more inviting target.
In one swift motion, Altman appeared behind the man. Her arms locked his in place, one hand covered his mouth, while the other drew a knife across his throat. She then flipped the blade perpendicular to the guard, stabbed him beneath the clavicle, and wrenched the knife downward, jaggedly opening his chest. Before he could slump forward, she backed away into the night, pulling him off the bench. Once his feet cleared the lights, she dropped him and worked her way back toward Nathan.
It happened in seconds. Smooth, fairly clean, and most crucially, quiet. Apparently, the Eternity Agency trained its agents quite well.
Not waiting for Altman, Nathan used his knife to cut open the back of the munitions tent. He grabbed a few grenades and searched through the various metal boxes of ammunition. When he found the 5.56mm rounds, he brought two full canisters outside. Back in for two more, and when Altman joined him, they carried the four canisters all the way to the urban training area.
It was a long haul, and boxes full of ammunition were heavy. They stopped twice on their way, making sure to avoid exhaustion — no sense in going to all this effort if they lacked the energy to fight later on.
Sweating hard, Nathan entered the urban training area. It consisted of one full city block, bookended by half blocks on the east and west sides. The north and south sides mimicked other urban environments — a schoolyard, a marketplace, and a government building. Some of the structures lay in rubble as if bombed out from an earlier barrage. Other buildings had a second-story, and one even boasted a roof. Bullet holes pockmarked every surface. Two automobiles were parked out front of the main city block buildings — one, a burnt out shell of a hatchback; the other, a dented sedan.
Nathan and Altman set the boxes of ammunition behind various corners of the training area. Now that they had a better understanding of the layout, they hurried back to the munitions tent, anxious to grab a sniper rifle, several grenades, and more ammo. The entire process crawled through a backbreaking hour. Walking from the munitions tent for the third and final time — carrying a crate of grenades between them as well as two extra rifles in case of problems with the ones they had brought — their luck finally ran out.
They were halfway back when a commotion erupted from behind. Change of guard must have occurred, and somebody discovered the lazy guard missing. Or worse, they found his body.
Nathan and Altman picked up the pace without a word spoken between them. Moving at a slight jog, not worrying about the noise created by their jangling equipment, they huffed as their feet dug into the sand. The voices behind grew louder. Nathan could not tell if they spoke English or German or some other language, but the tones were unmistakable.
They must have discovered the cut tent and the stolen munitions. Nathan dared to glance back. He saw flashlights searching the dark sand dunes.
“Take what you can and leave the rest,” he said. “We don’t have time.”
Altman let down her end of the crate to the sand floor. She grabbed her rifle, pocketed two grenades, and rushed off for the staging area. Nathan shouldered his rifle and also picked up two grenades. He turned to rush off but halted. The fight had already begun, but the Nazis did not know it yet.
Pulling the pin out of two more grenades, he tossed one in the direction of the headquarters tent and the other at the flashlights by the munitions. Then he poured all his energy into running.
The first explosion caused a lot of surprised screams and a fire rising up the side of the headquarters tent. The second explosion also took the men by surprise. Nathan would have loved for his grenade to cause a massive reaction with the munitions, but he could not throw it that far. Instead, he had to be satisfied with the moaning cries of an injured soldier.
The enemy had no idea where the explosions launched from. They held their weapons and fanned out, searching in all directions — slowly and cautiously like a starving wolf stalking a rabbit. This gave Nathan and Altman plenty of time to reach the urban training area and prepare for the next stage of their assault.
“Over there,” a young voice called out.
Well, at least Altman would reach the staging area. Keeping in motion, Nathan took hold of his rifle and opened fire. The young man who had pointed Nathan out jerked twice as crimson blossomed on his chest. Another short burst from Nathan’s rifle came up short — kicking the sand around the feet of two more soldiers.
In the space of a breath, he considered dashing left into the dark desert and attempt to swing around back up to the munitions tent. But the flashlights behind him promised that tactic would fail. Better to stick to the original plan and head for the urban training area. However, if he ran straight in that direction, he would end up bringing all the soldiers with him — possibly before Altman had reached a helpful position. Which left one option — dart to the right, straight into the camp.
It was crazy and reckless and if he still had his second soul, he would not have hesitated. But being mortal meant being careful. It also meant that he needed a diversion before he exposed himself to gunfire.
Pulling the pin off one of his last grenades, he ignored the bastards shouting at him and focused on the crate of grenades. Like a baseball pitcher putting all his mental effort into his job, he lobbed the grenade into the crate. Suddenly, the yelling men turned into frightened and panicked children.
A plume of fire rose in the air as shrapnel shot across the sand. The rapid roar of one grenade after another boomed across the camp. Tents fluttered violently as bits of metal pierced their soft walls. Men jittered to the ground as their soft walls shredded to pieces.
The explosion knocked Nathan to the sand. His ears rang and a wave of heat washed across the ground. Stumbling back to his feet, he whipped around and sprinted across the open road. Though his path weaved as his legs struggled, he tried to move fast, find cover. He zeroed on an off-road SUV parked on the opposite edge of the camp.
The screams for a medic mixed with the bellows of a few men chasing after Nathan. Gunfire and explosions had woken all in the camp, pumping adrenaline into every Nazi within earshot. Nathan skirted around to the opposite side of the vehicle and took cover at its front. The engine block would protect him from most bullets.
He tossed another grenade. The concussive force added to the damage and confusion. The more he allowed his enemy to organize, the more dangerous the situation would become.
Peeking around the corner like a house cat investigating a strange noise, he spotted a shirtless man stepping out of the headquarters tent. Covered in tattoos, bald, muscular and angry, the man commanded attention. The way those around him acted, Nathan guessed this man was one of the leaders.
With a few sharp words, several of the young men scurried off to relay orders. Nathan tried to get a headcount — he had picked out at least ten still standing. Nobody shot at the SUV which suggested they had lost him for the moment. But that also meant he could not open fire without giving away his position. However, the longer he remained motionless, the more likely he would be discovered and get pinned down. Plus, that Nazi leader was doing the very thing Nathan did not want — organizing.
As Nathan snatched another quick look, he saw the leader’s eyes widen. The man’s body stiffened. An odd crack echoed across the sands. The man fell with a hole drilled right through his forehead.
Altman. She must have positioned herself on the roof with the sniper rifle.
Confusion returned, and so did Nathan’s advantage. With his head clearing, he popped to his feet and opened fire. The attention of those nearby shifted from the sniper to the madman shooting wildly. Nathan bolted toward Altman’s position, letting out short bursts of gunfire. He did not bother aiming — his interest was to keep moving and keep the chaos alive.
Return fire erupted behind him, tearing up the SUV, shattering its windows and puncturing its tires. Hissing air melded with the crash of gunfire. Nathan kept on the move, but stopped firing, letting the noise and shadows take control. While a few of the men argued about who had command now, others organized enough to battle the growing fires which had engulfed three tents already.
Ahead, Nathan discovered a pickup truck. He scurried behind it, once more using the engine block for protection. This was his last moment to rest. From here to the urban training area, there was only flat sand. No cover of any kind.
