Apache Dawn: Book I of the Wildfire Saga (35 page)

Even guys straight out of boot knew not to use their own name over open comms for Christ’s sake.
 
On top of that, the general’s voice sounded oddly…
European
.

It added up to one thing in Cooper’s mind: security breach.
 
He was confident the younger voice was legit, but whoever the hell had hacked the line was trying to get him to reveal his position and tactical strength.
 
His mind raced.
 
He had an opportunity, if he could exploit it.

“Thank
God
, sir,” he said, trying to impart a sense of relief to his voice.
 
He was taking a risk talking louder, but he figured it was worth it if his plan was successful.
 
“We’ve moved Slipknot across Grand Avenue to the USC medical center.
 
The NKors think we’re still holed-up in the hospital!
 
We’re on the upper level, and can access the roof as soon as you show up—there’s a helipad on the roof.
 
I have two men combat effective and ten wounded.
 
Slipknot is with us.
 
You better hurry, there are Korean—” he dropped the phone and grunted as if injured, then killed the transmission by turning the power off.

Before they could trace the array’s signal on the roof, he keyed his throat mic: “Sparky, kill it and get your ass down here on the double.”
 
The signal on the sat phone went dead before he finished speaking.
 
“Grab the array and drop the cable down the shaft, we may need it again.”
 

“
Wait one.
 
I got bad guys exiting the annex and moving across Grand to the east
,” Sparky reported.
 
“
Looks like they’re setting up a perimeter around the USC building over there…Jesus, there’s a lot of ‘em.”

“Good, they took the bait.
 
Now get down here, we’re moving in five!” urged Cooper.
 
He stood up and started to coil up the Ethernet cable that began to fall out of the elevator shaft.
 
He could hear a quiet hissing sound.
 
He keyed the throat mic again.

“Beaver.”

“
Yeah, Coop.
”

“Round up the troops and get to the Emergency Department—northwest corner of the hosptial. We gotta get the hell out of here, pronto.
 
Docs, Secret Service, Slipknot,
everyone
.
 
Start loading into the motorcade, or what’s left of it.
 
As soon as Sparky gets down here, we’ll link up.”

“Hooyah
.”

The hissing sound from the elevator shaft grew louder.
 
He looked up and could see his sniper sliding down the heavy elevator cables, dropping like a rock from ten floors up. With a grunt the SEAL landed on the ground and climbed out of the shaft to squat next to Cooper.
 
In one smooth motion, he pulled free his sidearm and held it at the ready, leaving the long sniper rifle securely strapped to his back.

“Coop, there’s some serious hardware out there.
 
APCs, LAVs, HumVees…a couple companies of foot mobiles, at least.
 
That’s not to mention the shit they got flying around out there.
 
Looks like we got a couple good guys givin’ ‘em some trouble, though.
 
I saw an F-35 take out one of their jets.”
 
Sparky shook his head, night-vision goggles making him look like some nightmarish, snouted animal.
 
“I could see clear up Grand Avenue, the U.S. Bank Tower is about blown to shit, man.
 
Whole financial district is on fire.
 
By the number of NKors I saw out there, it looks like an invasion, Coop.”

“It
is
,” Cooper whispered. “That Apache Dawn broadcast was no joke.
 
Come on,” he said moving cautiously toward the redoubt at the far end of the basement.
 
“We got to get the hell out of here.”

By the time Cooper rejoined the rest of the survivors at the Emergency Department, explosions and gunfire were shaking the hospital to its foundation.
 
The doctors and a few nurses were desperately trying to keep the President stabilized while being carried by two Secret Service agents.
 
“Be careful!” hissed Dr. Honeycutt.
 
“Don’t jar that IV or he’ll die before we get going.”

“They’re coming!” called out Mike as Cooper and Sparky rejoined the group.
 
“We got movement outside…”

“Don’t worry, they’re killing each other for the moment,” said Cooper.
 
“Someone hijacked a signal I had with NORAD.
 
I told whoever the hell I was talking with that we were across Grand Avenue on the top floor of the Family Medical Building.
 
They took the bait and I guess they’re tearing it up looking for us.
 
Now’s our chance.
 
Let’s—” he turned to look at the remaining vehicles of the Presidential motorcade and froze.
 
“
Those things are shot to hell…”

“We ran into an advance element on the way here,” offered Agent Sheffield.
 
“Didn’t know it was part of an invasion.”

Both large Suburbans were riddled with bullet holes and leaking fluid.
 
One had a smashed-up front-end.
 
The driver must have plowed into something at a decent clip…another vehicle, Cooper guessed, by the white paint streaks down the side of the crumpled doors on the black SUV.
 
The President’s limo looked dirty and dented, but there were no bullet holes.
 
Big as it was, however, there was still no
way
they would all fit.

We’re gonna have to find some wheels…
he concluded with a frown.
 
I don’t have time for this…

“
APC!
” hissed Jax, crouching by the tail end of the limo.
 
“
Ten yards out, two o’clock!
”

Everyone dove for cover in a panic. They were dangerously exposed in the Emergency Department at the northwest end of the hospital, with the parking lot and covered bay in front of them and the empty receiving room behind them.
 
Their only cover was the presidential motorcade, parked haphazardly in front of the main doors.
 
Cooper ducked under the large windows and made it to the wall.
 
He took a breath and slowly peeked around the open doors toward the street.

Sure enough, a large, ugly, green and tan colored Korean APC with sharp, angular reactive-armor sat parked behind the limo, facing east, its big diesel engine idling like a flatulent rhinoceros.

“
Shit, shit, shit
,” said Charlie over Cooper’s headset. “
Coop, main hatch is opening…foot-mobiles comin’ out!
”

“Hold your fire,” whispered Cooper in a dead calm voice, devoid of emotion. He watched as the North Korean soldiers exited down a big ramp and peeled out to run down the sides of the armored eight-wheeled vehicle, a mish-mash of sharp angles and a half-assed attempt at stolen designs and aerodynamics.
 
Cooper frowned in disapproval.
 
In his experience, doing things half-assed usually got you killed.

The North Koreans continued running east across the parking lot, heading toward the doomed Family Medical Building.
 
They didn’t give more than a casual glance toward the shot-up motorcade parked at the Trauma Center.
 
A hatch opened on the top of the APC through the turret that housed what looked like a 20mm canon, and a helmeted head popped out, followed by the shoulders and chest of what Cooper figured was the vehicle’s commander.
 
The man pulled up large binoculars that looked oddly-similar to his own night-vision binos.

“
Now what?
” asked Charlie in a whisper.

“Stay put—I’m gonna get us some wheels.
 
Sparky, on me.
 
Charlie, give us a diversion when we get to the rear.”

“
Roger that
,” said Charlie as the platoon sniper appeared next to Cooper like a ghost out of the shadows.
 

“Let’s go,” Cooper whispered.
 
The two SEALs slipped around the double-doors and crouch-walked across the open space to the side of the APC.
 
He could hear someone talking in Korean from the inside.
 
The engine noise was tremendous and it almost felt like the ground was trembling as the big armored troop carrier sat there waiting.

Behind him, a loud explosion rocked the Family Medical Building and more gunfire erupted.
 
Cooper had to force himself to ignore the commotion and crept quickly to the rear of the APC. He was standing just on the outside of the open hatch and moved the MP5 to his side to draw his Sig Sauer P226.
 
Cooper pumped his fist in the air to signal Charlie.

There was a loud bang and the street lit up in a flash ten yards in front of the APC.
 
He heard the commander cry out in pain from above and heard someone inside yell in surprise.
 
That was his signal.
 
He stepped around the open maw of the APC and charged in, weapon up, Sparky right beside him.

Cooper raced up the ramp and pulled the screaming commander down through the turret and out of the way.
 
As Sparky slipped past, he dispatched the driver with a shot to the back of the head from his silenced pistol. Cooper then plunged his K-Bar into the commander’s neck before ripping it free in a jugular spray.
 
Without hesitation, he snapped his wrist and flung the bloody knife at a third North Korean who looked like a radio operator.
 
The man died with a knife in his chest, slumped over at his station.
 

“Still got it, Hoss,” Sparky said from the cockpit.
 
He grinned.
 
“Nice.”

Cooper flipped his sniper the bird and keyed his mic: “Okay, we’re secure.
 
Get everyone over here, Charlie.
 
Move!”

Cooper let Sparky cover the advance of the Secret Service agents who carried the President over first, followed by the three doctors and a few nurses.
 
They quickly and efficiently packed the open bins and shelves of the APC with the supplies they needed to keep the president alive.
 

Once satisfied that the President was secure, Cooper had Mike and Jax dispose of the North Korean bodies out the back hatch.
 
They stripped weapons and vests off the corpses and passed the gear out to the agents.

Cooper wiped the blood off the computer screens in front of the driver’s seat and took the place behind the wheel.
 
“Turret!” he said over his shoulder.

“Got it,” replied Mike, who reached up and quietly pulled the armored lid shut on the turret.
 
He knelt next to Cooper.
 
“They got NV binos just like ours,” Mike said in amazement.

“Okay,” said Cooper, scanning the controls and knobs arrayed in front of him.
 
Everything was labeled in Korean symbols.
 
He quickly spotted a blinking red light next to a toggle switch.
 
“Clear the rear hatch!” he called out.

“Clear!” was the muffled reply from twenty feet behind him in the crowded crew space.

Cooper flicked the switch and could hear hydraulics come to life.
 
A
ding-ding
alarm went off and an amber light flashed in the crew compartment as the heavy armored hatch began to move.
 
The ramp retracted smoothly into the floor of the vehicle just before the hatch closed and sealed itself.
 
The amber strobe light went out, interior lighting kicked in, and the entire cabin area was bathed in a red glow.

“Hatch secure!” someone called out.

Cooper tried to ignore the noise of the medical personnel tending to the President and the wounded agents they had carried with them.
 
He could hear Dr. Alston calling out numbers to a nurse and tried to ignore the sound of her voice.
 
That made him think about the way her hair looked—

“Hey, Coop, I think I know how to work the turret,” said Mike.
 
Cooper reigned in his thoughts and looked over his shoulder to see the smaller SEAL standing in the turret bell, watching some video screens, his hand on a joystick.
 
He twisted his grip to the right and the turret came to life, electric motors whining as the little tube Mike was in rotated.
 

“Yeah, baby, daddy’s got a new toy,” he laughed, swinging the turret around to the left as he practiced maneuvering the main gun up and down.
 
The electric motors driving the turret drowned out the noise the doctors were making in the crew cabin.

Cooper noticed the APC’s radio was squawking excitedly in what he assumed was Korean.
 
Different voices were competing with each other for air-time.
 
Cooper frowned at the din.
 
They were assaulting the building they assumed the President and his team to be in and he didn’t want to hear about it, even if he could understand the gibberish.
 

He found what looked like a headphone jack dangling from a bloody helmet the APC driver had been wearing.
 
The helmet had been blown off by Sparky, along with most of the driver’s head. He inserted the plug into the jack and the obnoxious chatter was pumped through the helmet on the floor, effectively silencing the noise.
 
As an after-thought, he snapped the microphone stalk off the helmet with a vicious twist.
 
He was taking no chances.

Mike’s voice echoed down from the turret: “Coop, I think I got the hang of this thing.
 
I think all I gotta do is line up this thing here on that line over there…then it should be on target and I pull the trigger.
 
Like a video game, man.”
 
He dropped out of the turret and crouched next to the driver’s seat.