Last words, p.21
ZEROED TARGET: AGAINST THE CLOCK action thriller series Book 5, page 21
The smaller team… Agency? His support team?
He traced the edge of the balcony, searching the streets and alleys below. There was nowhere for the team to go. They were pinned down. God damn!
Barrett glanced to his left. Four blocks east. Movement. Fast. Too fast.
He stepped to the far corner and searched the streets. There! He found it between flashes of buildings. Glimpses of, glistening black, of someone on a motorbike.
He glanced back at the silent gunfight to his right, back to the speeding bike.
It couldn’t be… could it? Shirin?
Barrett pushed himself off the balcony handrail. He had to find a way out. He ran inside the apartment, back to the front room, searched the floor, found the rag, ripped it from the floor, and ran back to the balcony.
He held the base of the torch in his mouth, shone the LED light over his hands and the end of the rag and tied a double knot over the top of the handrail. He tossed the rest of the old sheet over the edge.
He glanced down at the cloth swinging below. It hung three feet from the handrail below. It’s all he needed.
He searched the street below. Couldn’t see the bike, but its screaming engine echoed, closer and closer. He stepped back from the edge, angled the torchlight over the sliding door lock, inserted the key, and tested the mechanism. Satisfied, he collected the torch from his mouth, pulled his pistol from its holster and entered the unit, running toward the hallway.
22:12:37
Private Olsen activated the high-definition camera mounted to the underside of the drone and checked the digital feed on the wide monitor. He adjusted the headset connected via a live intercom feed to Dom’s workstation. “Two minutes confirmed.”
22:12:41
Dom retreated out of the telecommunications operational portal. “Copy that. Keep our bird high. ISPs and Cell service providers are scrambling. All their networks are down.”
“But how is that possible?”
“A high-powered signal jammer. Or…”
“They corrupted local towers and hubs.” Private Olsen cursed. “Who the hell are these guys?”
22:12:47
Barrett ripped the door from its remaining hinge at the apartment’s entrance and ran, carrying it over his shoulder, to the far side of the building and wedged it firmly against the internal handle of the stairwell door and a crack in the adjacent wall.
He tested it. Found chipped concrete chunks on the carpet and wedged it tight in between the end of the door and the wall. He tested it again. Satisfied, he turned and ran.
22:12:37
Captain Creaner held the shield in tight formation with the man beside him. “Hold the line!” he shouted over the whine and whack of bullet after bullet colliding into their shields and cracking the brick wall behind them. Through the viewing window in the shield, he zeroed in on muzzle flashes in the distance, adjusted the aim of the MP5’s barrel perched on the top of the shield, and fired a short burst. More flashes exploded silently in the distance. He saw the outline of four shooters approaching parallel to their position.
Movement to right told him there were more. The shooters were going to flank them. And then, cut them down.
A volley of bullets hit the outer edge of his shield and ricocheted into the brick wall. “Hostiles, flanking position, 12 O'clock!” He adjusted his angle, twisted the gun and returned fire.
One of his men called out. “Hostiles, Flanking position 6 O'clock.” Another volley of whirs, cracks and thumps hit from behind. One of his men cried out. “Raynor’s been hit. Raynor’s hit.”
Creaner fired another burst at the advancing force opposite him, then twisted and fired a series of double taps to his right. “Status?”
Raynor’s voice cursed behind him. “Through and through. I’m Operational! Go. Go.”
Creaner cursed as his machine gun clicked empty. “Reloading.” He held the shield down hard against the ground, leaned into its curve, swapped the machine gun to his left hand, and reloaded with his right. “Good to go!”
To his right, he saw an opening in the long wall. A service entry into the building. “Egress point. Nine yards ahead. I’ll hold the point. Morris hold the rear, Robert’s hold center. Raynor, Hines breach and clear.”
22:13:46
Barrett held the south stairwell door open an inch, listened carefully and quietly placed a rolled up newspaper between the door and the jamb. He crouched behind the concrete wall beside the door, readied his pistol, closed his eyes and focused on every nuanced sound echoing in the pitch-black stair well.
22:13:50
Raynor ignored the dull pain coming from behind his left hip. He slung the Remington 870 Shotgun from his shoulder, aimed and fired at the lower hinge of the door. Pumped another round into the chamber, aimed and fired at the top hinge.
He shifted to his right as Hines shoulder-barged the door, rammed it open and followed him in, gun drawn, sweeping the room.
22:13:54
Marcus Smith pinched at the touch screen monitor, zooming out, re-centred the screen, then zoomed back in. “The team Jago sent are taking heavy fire. They’ve just entered a residential building directly in front of you. I have three teams converging. One team is breaking off, heading around the front of the building.”
“I see them.”
“Shirin. Dom says cell signals have been interrupted. But it looks like these shooters are still communicating.”
“Tac Radios.”
“Likely.”
“Is Barrett still in the building?”
“Unconfirmed.” Marcus repositioned the screen and tracked Shirin speeding toward the scene. “It’s time we tell Rollan you’re in play.”
22:14:01
Shirin held the throttle, pulled back and kept her head low as the bike screamed through the long street.
“Shirin.” Marcus repeated, “We need to let Rollan know you’re on site.”
Shirin scowled beneath the helmet. “My family, Marcus, they keep coming after my family… I don’t care who knows I’m here. Tell everyone. It’s time I send a clear message.” Shirin disconnected the call, leaned close to the tank of the Kawasaki, swung onto the other side of the road, straightened the bike and pulled hard on the throttle as she hit the clutch and changed up gears.
Dead a head. Four men. Straight formation. To her right, four men closing in on the side access to the residential apartment building. She saw the shield, muzzle fire. One of the team was holding them off. To give his team a chance of escape…
She kicked the gear into neutral, killed the engine, and leaned the bike toward the four gunmen rounding the front of the building.
22:14:05
Captain Creaner backed into the doorway, firing in short volleys over the top of his shield. He saw it. The impossible. His mind registered it in slow motion, trying to decipher what his eyes were seeing.
A black motorbike hurled off the curb, silent as a swooping bird, airborne, its rider jumping off its back, withdrawing a long pistol, firing, firing, firing.
He followed the direction the bullets flew; a shooter directly in front of him buckled sideways, another shooter’s head exploded, another fell gasping through a severed throat…
22:14:08
Shirin sprinted forward, watched the bike crash into the sidewalk, roll, hit the grass, kick up and collide into the back and sides of four gunmen before crunching into the font brick facade of the apartment building.
She fired mid-stride until the Beretta clicked empty. She dropped the magazine, slammed a new one in, threw herself sideways as a gunman, aimed and fired. She collided hard with him, lifted him off his feet, crashed down onto the ground, rose and blasted two rounds into his chest, one to his head as she stood and doubled back on the men taken out by the bike.
Dead.
She searched their tactical vests.
22:14:12
Creaner looked back to the motorbike rider. They’d ran, gun raised, firing toward the front of the building, out of sight.
An explosion boomed at the front of the building. It snapped Creaner from his trance.
Shit!
He bound out of the building, held the shield to his left as he sprinted toward the downed gunmen and fired at the last man until he fell. Bullet’s thumped into his shield, he turned, returned fire and sprinted for the cover of hulking tree trunks the dead men had advanced from. He angled, aimed and fired at the four approaching in tight formation. Behind him, his men took up offensive positions and opened fire in a series of intersecting lines of attack.
22:14:19
Shirin pulled the tactical radio from one of the dead men and inspected it. Crushed. She tossed it to the side and went to the next man.
22:14:22
Marcus picked up the phone beside him and dialed the secure line at Rollan’s workstation. Rollan would be pissed he hadn’t been looped into Shirin leaving the base. But having Rollan pissed was a small price to pay compared to breaking Shirin’s trust.
“Dom. It’s Marcus. Put Rollan on. It’s urgent.”
22:14:27
Creaner ran to the next tree, laid down a blanket of fire, dropped one of the men, then changed position and fired again. He saw another man fall. The two standing gunmen split up taking cover behind fence line, shrub and trees.
Creaner saw one retreat stumble, then fall. Morris and Roberts broke away to pursue. The other gunman turned and sprinted for the side. Creaner ran to intercept but stopped as the gunman flew off balance, crashed against a shrub, rolled and tried to crawl away.
Creaner turned.
The motorbike rider approached. The helmet dropped behind her. She lowered the pistol and strode toward them. Creaner held his hand out to his team to hold their fire. They stared and watched the woman approach.
The face of a ghost… Shirin Reyes?
She walked past him, tossed a radio at him and marched to the injured man scrambling away from the shrub. She raised her weapon. Fired one round into the back of the man’s leg.
22:14:34
Shirin ignored the man’s muffled groans and curses as he tried to crawl away from her on his back. She held her gun loosely by her side and followed him. She sensed the Agent following her and spoke to him without taking her eyes from the shooter on the ground. “You’re Captain Creaner?”
“Yes. And you are?”
“Here to help.” She pointed her gun at the man crawling away from her. “Stop.” She met the glare and fear in his eyes with a simmering anger and rage barely contained. She stepped closer to him. “How many men in the building?”
The man stared back.
Shirin aimed at the man’s foot. Her finger tightened on the trigger, then she glanced to her left. Two of Creaner’s men dragged another gunmen behind them.
“We’ve got a live one here.”
Shirin waved them forward. “Bring him here.”
She watched them look to Creaner. Creaner nodded.
Shirin gestured to the radio Creaner’s hand. “Re-programmed to a secure connection. Special Agent Clint Rollan, on behalf of Director of Operations Jago, is on the other end of the line.”
Shirin pointed to a position beside the downed gunman.
Once Creaner’s men stood back, she stepped forward and crouched between the two injured men and stared deep into their souls. “First man, to tell me the truth, will live. The second, will not.” She glared at them. “Nod if you understand.”
Both men nodded.
“How many men left? How many in the building?”
Both men stared at her.
She pointed the gun at the foot of the man beside her. Then the foot of the second man. “Foot. Knee. Hip. Left side. Then I’ll move to the right side. Both of you. If I still don’t have the answers I want, I’ll move to hand, elbow, shoulder, both sides. The first to answer my questions, will be spared. Simple.” She stared at both men. They looked away. “Very well.”
Shirin stood, stepped back, looked at two of Creaner’s men watching her and gestured for them to come forward. “Gag them.”
“Wait. Wait.” One of the gunmen held his hand out. “Wait. I’m a contractor. I was just asked to support the team.”
Shirin waited for Creaner’s men to circle around the back of the two men. “That’s not answering the question I asked.” She nodded to Creaner’s men to hold their gloved hands over the gunmen’s mouths.
“Okay! Okay! Four teams. There're four teams!”
“How many per team?”
“Four men.”
Shirin nodded, moved close to him, worked the tactical radio free from its pouch and held it up in front of the man. “I want you to call them off. Tell them you’re in trouble, and you need them down here to support you.”
The man nodded frantically, then started to shake his head. “I will, I will, but they won’t listen. They won’t deviate from mission.”
Shirin stared at him. She dug deep into his eyes, into his psych, then changed the subject. “And the prisoner? Where is he?”
The man looked back at her confused. Scared. He looked at the man beside him, then back to her.
“The prisoner. Where is he?”
“There is no pris…”
Shirin fired a round into the first man’s foot. Aimed, fired into the second man’s foot catching his ankle.
Both men bucked and screamed through the strong grips of Creaner’s men.
She stared at them. And slowly lifted her gun higher.
The first gunman held his hand out and waved it at her. She nodded for Creaner’s man to release him. The gunman sobbed through snot and spittle. “Building behind.. It’s where we were based.”
Shirin pointed to the building behind the abandoned apartment complex. “That one?”
The man nodded, crying.
“What floor?”
“Fourth. Fourth. On the fourth.”
“How many men left there?”
The man gagged and vomited.
“How many men left there?”
“One team. Guarding. Until we get back.”
“Evacuation plan?”
“On command. Via basement.”
Shirin stepped back and gestured for Creaner’s men to follow her. She stopped. Turned, and fired one round into each of the gunman’s heads.
She turned back to Creaner, walked past his men, ignored their shocked looks, connected the dead man’s radio earpiece to her left ear and stood toe to toe with Captain Creaner. “You spoke with Special Agent Rollan?”
“Yes. We’re to support you. You have field command.”
Shirin nodded. “Cover the building with the prisoner. A hard perimeter. Expect remote surveillance. Do not let them evac.”
“Copy that.” Creaner waved for his men to gather. “If you can believe what that guy told you, four teams. That’s sixteen heavily armed hostiles. You don’t even know if your man in there is still alive.”
Shirin glared at him. “Secure the evac route and wait for me. We clear?”
“Clear.”
22:16:11
Rollan paced back and forth along the bench top. In part to calm his anger. Marcus had known Shirin was en-route, but not told him. He had to unpack what that meant and understand where the parameters of their trust would sit once this was over. But for now, he needed to digest the latest turn of events.
Daniel was close. They were still holding him in the building in the block behind the abandoned apartment complex. It meant he was still alive.
“Dom, you have an ID and breakdown on that building?”
“Coming up now. It’s an office block. Retail shops on ground floor, hired office spaces on the floors above. I can’t find much on it.”
“I don’t care who’s in there. We’ll go through that later. I want a tactical work up now.” He stopped pacing, turned toward Dom’s direction, and called out. “Private Olsen. Is the drone in position for a fly by? Can you get eyes on the building?”
“Affirmative, Sir. Circling the bird around site now. I can see Captain Creaner’s team approaching. Shirin is heading into the target site. She’s alone.”
Rollan clenched his fist, forced himself to focus only on the things he could control. “Follow Creaner’s team, patch them into an open line and support their approach. And Private Olsen, patch a copy of the feed through to Dom’s terminal.”
“Copy that, Sir.”
“Rollan, if they know we’re coming, they might kill Daniel before we can get to him.”
“Agreed.” Rollan pushed himself against the bench top. “Can you cut the frequency?”
“Without the passkey, we’d need to be on site, with the right gear…”
Private Olsen’s voice blasted over the speaker intercom. “We are on site. Drone is on site. If we can program the frequency into the array matrix, the drone can interrupt signal integrity. It’s in range.”
Rollan paced back and forth, nodded to himself and turned back to Dom. “Send the frequency. Cut the connection.”
22:16:51
Marcus hit the intercom button and spoke while logging into his supercomputer and establishing a double-blind network passkey. “Rollan, you’re going to need more firepower building a work-up on the building with Daniel inside. Ally and I are working on it. Shirin and Barrett are going to need Dom’s undivided attention.” He didn’t wait for Rollan to respond. “Leave this line open. I’ll keep you in the loop as we progress.”
22:16:57
Shirin put two bullets into the lock and burst through the front doors mid stride. She withdrew a compact mag light from her vest pouch, held it over her silenced Beretta and swept the ground floor in seconds. Clear.
