Bishop's War (Bishop Series Book 1) (28 page)

“You guys ready?” Bear asked.

“Ready Chief!” They all echoed.

“Suit up and put on the oxygen. We go in forty-five minutes.”

All six of them walked over to the equipment area and clamped on oxygen masks. Before executing a High Altitude Low Opening or HALO jump they all had to breathe in pure oxygen for at least half an hour to purge nitrogen from their bloodstreams and avoid the Bends from the air pressure and the rapid rate of descent. They all sat together breathing deeply and mentally reviewing every detail of the mission. After five minutes the Jump Master walked over and ran his hand across his neck. They peeled off their masks and stood up, waiting for an explanation.

“New plan, gentleman. Follow me.”

Masters, Palmer, and the Jump Master had been busy running calculations. Weight was the key concern. Each two man team had to weigh the same to ensure that they descended at the same speed. Adding too much extra dead weight to the lightest team, which was Bobby and Able, could cause serious injuries.

“HALO is out, due to your weight variance. There’s some good scattered cloud cover at eleven thousand feet so you’ll jump from there. This’ll reduce your equipment requirements since you won’t need the oxygen tanks or the cold weather suits. You’ll be traveling light with just your altimeters, flak jackets, guns and ammo. And I want all of you wearing knee and elbow pads along with the night vision crash helmets.”

“I like it,” John said. “We’ll be able to move better without those heavy suits and the extra gear.”

“That’s the idea,” Palmer added. “Everything else goes according to plan. We’ll illuminate the ship and the laser guidance system will lead you right to her. Get ready, we’re starting our rapid descent in fourteen minutes. You jump five minutes after that.”

The team marched off again to change into the new lighter jump suits.

“Hey Bun, can I have a word?” the general asked. He was now alone, standing with his hands behind his back and his feet spread apart.

Bunny trotted over, his brow knotted and his body tense. He was pretty sure he knew what the general was going to say: after five years of civilian life his fighting ability was about to be questioned. He’d expected it, but he sure wasn’t happy about it.

Standing at parade rest, the general was all business. Palmer’s fierce piercing blue eyes revealed nothing.

“Sir?”

“I want you to stand there at attention. I’m about to tell you something. When I do you keep your head up and your eyes stay fixed on me. Understood?”

“Understood, sir.”

“Look Bunny, we just got the word. Gonzalo Valdez took a head shot from a sniper right after you two dusted off.”

Bunny’s head swam, instantly overwhelmed by the news, but the general’s eyes bore into his, bringing him back and forcing him to focus.

“Is he dead?”

“He’s hanging on by a thread. That’s all we know. I can’t tell Johnny right before a mission. I’m leaving it up to you to break it to him when you think the time is right.”

“Yes sir, I’ll tell him after.”

“I know I don’t have to say this, but you stay close to him when you do. He left the Army after Sammy died in his arms. Last week Major Burke and four Team Razor sergeants were blown away. He just buried his cousin Chris and now he’s about to lose his uncle and surrogate father. These were all his closet friends and family. Every man has a breaking point and I don’t want him losing it and getting himself killed when we get back to the Stan to take our final run at Aziz.”

“I will, General. I won’t leave his side. I’ll help him through it.”

“Good work, sergeant. You be careful down there on that ship tonight.”

“Thank you, sir.”

General Palmer came to attention and saluted. Bunny returned it with crisp formality. He turned on his heel and trotted back to the team. They all worked silently, putting on flak jackets and loading up on ammo.

“What was that about?” John asked as he helped Bunny with his chute.

“He told me that things just weren’t the same without my guiding hand, and how happy he is to see me back.”

“I could see that. I feel the same way,” John said with a smile.

The plane went into a steep dive, quickly dropping from thirty-five thousand to fifteen thousand feet where it leveled off and began a more gradual descent. Before heading to the jump station all six combat veterans strapped on altimeters, combat knives, pistols and short barreled P90’s. The submachine guns with sound suppressors were designed for close quarter combat.

Lights flashed and a muted alarm sounded throughout the massive cargo bay as the C-130’s ramp lowered. Each team member pulled his visor down and moved forward towards the gaping black hole in the belly of the plane. General Palmer and Colonel Masters stood along the wall but were still engulfed by the howling wind that buffeted their clothes and wildly blew their hair back. They saluted each team member and placed a hand on their shoulders as they passed. At the end of the ramp all six soldiers stared into the night, waiting for the countdown. They did a final sound check into their mikes and activated the night vision sensors in their helmets before giving each other the thumbs up. The three shooters, John, Able, and Mace stepped in front of the three flyers, Bunny, Bobby, and Bear to get hooked in. They all listened to the countdown from ten. On one they stepped out and off of the ramp, free falling at one hundred and twenty-eight miles per hour into a world of wind and stars eleven thousand feet above their target.

You wouldn’t know it was June in the Middle East. At more than two miles above the ocean the cold cut them to the bone. They plummeted down together in a tight group, holding hands to form a circle. There was a layer of clouds below, but from that height the night was crisp and clear. A billion stars were shining bright and the moon was a giant glowing ball in the sky.

Straining against the air pressure and the numbing cold, the team held on tight to each other as they fell through the clouds. They all felt the powerful jolt from the lightning strike that suddenly filled the air with a force that gave them all a full body muscle spasm and punched each of them hard in the stomach. Every team member stared wide-eyed in amazement at the electric blue light that surrounded them in a protective bubble.

“Look at us!” Able shouted in awe.

“Gods of War,” Bear said.

“What!?” John asked.

“The lightning God is the God of war. Tonight we’re his brothers,” Bear said.

Chapter 34

The Al Badir

The team shook
off the shock of the rogue lightning strike as they passed through the cloud ceiling and into the clear night sky. They stared down at the huge expanse of dark ocean dotted with tiny lights that glowed green through their night sensors. Each scattered green spot represented a ship and they waited for their target to get lit up.

General Palmer watched the live action unfold on the big screen in the Command and Control Center on the C-130 circling above. All the calculations for wind, the target ship’s speed and position and the team’s rate of descent were fed into the computer in front of Colonel Masters. At this stage of the operation Masters and Palmer maintained control. Once the shooting started the team became an independent unit.

The Special Ops vessel disguised as a fishing trawler hit the Al Badir with its advanced radar system, making it flash red on the screen in front of General Palmer.

“Light ‘em up Colonel.”

Masters turned on the infrared laser guidance system that sent a laser beam of invisible light directly down from the plane to the Al Badir.

“Team Razor, you are on target. Do you have visual?”

“Roger. We see the target,” Bear said into his mike.

Glowing like a spear reaching down from the heavens, the guiding specter of infrared light pointed directly down at the Al Badir just over a mile ahead of the team. Following Colonel Masters’ instructions they tucked their arms to their sides and flew head first to a position a thousand feet behind and fifteen hundred feet above the ship. Once there, Bear, Bobby, and Bunny pulled their rip cords.

Coming to a complete stop after falling from such an extreme height at such an extreme speed was a painful exercise. Bunny stifled a groan as he and John were violently yanked skyward the instant he deployed the chute.

John could clearly see the Al Badir below. The ship appeared much larger up close than it had in the photos. Bunny guided them in, gliding silently above the high angled booms of the cranes at the stern and then steering along the starboard side to make the landing. John listened for warning shouts or shots, but saw only the prone bodies of sleeping men. While the world raced by in a blur, his training decelerated everything into a controlled flow of motion that allowed his mind to process and react to every detail. He almost smiled when he realized they were about to nail a near impossible approach and landing.

His moment of self-congratulation was cut short when he locked eyes with a fat bearded sentry who suddenly appeared at the rail in front of him. John could clearly see the man’s crooked, smoke stained teeth when the guard’s mouth fell open in disbelief. They couldn’t leave an enemy at their backs, but they were moving too fast and went right past him. John twisted as far to his left as he possibly could and shot the P90 one handed. He knew when he fired that it was a split second too late. The two shots from the silenced three round burst that hit the sentry in the side weren’t enough to stifle his warning shout before he died. The rest of security team woke up when they heard the scream over the roar of the ship’s engines.

Bunny used all his might to fight against a powerful gust of wind that came across the deck and almost pushed them back out to sea. He worked the chute controls, turning directly towards the group of seven men that were now on their feet. John ignored the few guards who stood there frozen, too stunned to move. He aimed and fired at the three seasoned soldiers who reacted quickly enough to raise their AK’s. He saw two go down before he was thrown forward when Bunny hit the release on the tandem rig the moment before impact. Bunny timed it perfectly, giving John the freedom to fight while he made a solo landing and then struggled out of the parachute harness on his own.

“Go get ‘em, Johnny,” Bunny said aloud. He hadn’t seen Johnny Bishop in action in a long time and it was a sight to see.

John felt Bunny reach for the release button before they hit it so he knew what to expect. He flew down and forward, leading with his legs and surfing on his back four feet above the deck. He snapped both his boots up in a vicious double kick that nailed the man in front of him right on the chin. The guard slammed backwards into the three men behind him, pulling the four of them down in a tangled pile. The impact helped slow John’s momentum allowing him to tuck and roll into a tight summersault. Coming up in a low crouch he spotted a skinny dark skinned guard taking aim at Bunny. John fired twice hitting the man in his bony left check with both shots. John didn’t waste time watching the dead fighter go down. He turned to face the last man standing, quickly firing a three shot burst. The guard was tall and powerful. He dropped his weapon, but stayed on his feet staring down at the three blooming red flowers that spread across his chest just above the Nike emblem on his white tee shirt. Slowly lifting his head, he stared at John with a look of surprise, resignation, and sorrow. With the last of his strength he raised his right hand and seemed to be waving goodbye when his legs gave out. He collapsed to his knees, then fell over sideways, his face smacking the deck with a heavy thud.

The guard that John had kicked lay with his head twisted at an unnatural angle, dead from a broken neck. He had killed six men in less than fifteen seconds and the last two survivors slowly got up with their hands raised in surrender. John kept them covered and didn’t bother turning when he heard the familiar sound of size fourteen feet running towards him from behind.

Bunny was moving fast. He fired twice without slowing down, hitting each of the prisoners in the center of the forehead.

“Come on!” he shouted.

John didn’t look back at the bodies of the men his friend had just executed. He sprinted after Bunny and said, “Holy shit,” when he saw where they were headed. In the back of his mind he knew that Bobby and Able should have been on the far side of the deck at the same time he was, but he’d focused all his attention on the enemy. Now he saw them. Six feet above the deck they swung in a wide arc, their chute stuck and tangled in the boom of one of the cranes at the stern of the Al Badir. Bobby hung limply with his head slumped down and arms dangling at his sides, while Able struggled to get free, madly cutting away at the harness. John watched Able sheath his knife and brace for impact when the wind and motion of the ship slammed him and Bobby into the solid metal wall of a large red cargo container.

Bunny got to them first. Reaching up, he grabbed Able’s legs and tried to hold his friends in place. He couldn’t get any leverage and was dragged along with them across the ship’s small rear deck. They were headed for the railing and the open ocean when John jumped onto Bunny’s back and scrambled up to cut the chute strings above Bobby’s head. John knew he had to cut them free before they went over the rail or they’d all be in the water watching the Al Badir continue on its way without them. The four of them moved steadily towards the edge while John sliced through string after string. When he cut the last pair everyone tumbled down onto the deck. Everyone except for him. The forward momentum took him out and over the ship’s railing.

Flailing wildly as he fell face down towards the black water below John desperately threw his hand back and managed to catch the edge of the deck with just the tips of three fingers. Despite the pain and pressure on his fingertips he dangled above the water willing himself to hold on. The ship hit a swell and thousands of tons of steel were pushed upwards by the unrelenting force of the ocean. When the ship was at its apex he lost his grip, falling down and away once more until he was suddenly yanked back up by a vice like grip around his left wrist. Hanging above the waves, John looked up at Bunny’s smiling face.

“You can bathe after work Johnny. Right now we need you on board.”

“Your dumb jokes made me abandon ship.”

Bunny hauled John up and helped him back over the rail.

“How’s Bobby?” John asked.

“Out cold. The helmet saved him, but he really smacked his head the first time we hit that container,” Able said.

“How many times you hit?”

“Three. I knew you had your hands full with the guards and didn’t want to distract you with a distress call.”

“Shit. Well, let’s move him to a safe spot while we clear the rest of the ship,” John said.

Bear came running over. For him and Mace the landing had been uneventful. There had only been one crew member at the helm and Mace had taken him out with a perfect shot through the window of the tower bridge on the way down. From there they swooped in silently onto the front deck and secured the rest of the crew without another shot being fired. The prisoners were bound, blind folded, gagged and tucked away in a storage room before Mace made his way up to the bridge to reduce the ship’s speed and guide her to the rendezvous point with the Special Ops vessel. He was staying up there to provide covering fire while Bear came down to assist the team.

“We took out the First Mate on the way in and we secured the rest of the crew, and the Captain in a storage room below the bridge. That should be everyone, but let’s take a look around before we assume the ship’s secure,” Bear said.

John looked down at the heavy metal plates on the deck that covered the cargo bay. He saw that they had been carefully welded in place.

“We’re going to need a torch to cut through these welds,” he said.

“I saw one behind the main door in the tower,” Bear said.

“We can get in from below to take a look at the weapons before we start cutting,” Able said.

“Roger that,” said Bear.

They carried Bobby over to a corner of the main deck away from all the bodies where Mace could watch over him from the bridge. They made a bed from a pile of life jackets and tucked him in before they all walked cautiously towards the steel door that led below decks.

“Kill the lights,” Bear ordered before he pulled opened the door and stepped inside. The four of them did a thorough search of every compartment and the engine room before they turned their attention to the hold under the main deck where the weapons were stored. Able spun the wheel to release the water tight seal then pulled down on the handle. He leaned in and then quickly jumped back to draw fire. He looked back at the team with a big grin on his face just as John recalled his mother’s warning.

When Able stepped into the doorway John’s scream of, “No!” was drowned out by the report of the large caliber rifle. The shot threw Able back against the far wall of the corridor. The bullet hit him high in the stomach and went right through his flak jacket. His hands pressed the wound while he fought to catch his breath.

Bunny dove at Able, knocking him down just as the second shot exploded into the wall where his head had been only a split second before. He pulled Able farther down the hall and checked the wound. It was bad and they both knew it. Able looked up at him with resignation.

“Don’t give me that look, Mex. I was hit way worse and we just went sky diving,” Bunny said, his hands already slick with Able’s blood.

“I guess we’ll be bartending together,” Able said. He tried to smile, but his mouth was clenched in a tight line.

“Bartender? That’s skilled labor. You’ll be washin’ dishes for a few years before you ever see the front of the house, amigo.”

“Asshole.” Able grabbed Bunny’s arm, fighting the pain and trying to remain conscious. “Bun, I saw the muzzle flash. It came from pretty far back and high up. Unless this was a lucky shot he’s got a night scope.”

Everyone was still mic’d so they all heard Able’s report.

“You ready Mace?” Bear said.

“Ready.”

“Lights on in three, two, one, go!”

The second Maceo turned the lights on from the bridge John dove low through the door with Bear right behind him. Just as planned, the sniper in the cargo bay had been blinded by the lights. The two shots that came a second after John and Bear were already inside were off target, hitting high on the wall above them.

John and Bear crawled forward and found cover behind some unmarked crates. They gave each other a here-we-go-again look when the familiar sound of AK’s fired on full auto sprayed the open doorway.

“Looks like we’ve got a sniper in the back and at least two more shooters, one on either side of the room,” John whispered. “Mace, lights out again on three.”

“Roger.”

The cargo hold once again became a dark steel cave. John went left and Bear right to go after the two fighters that were blindly firing away, revealing their positions in the process. Moving along the wall and below the sniper’s line of sight John spotted his target five feet away. His man was out in the open standing straight up and shooting from his hip one handed like Stallone in a Rambo movie. John aimed through a small space between crates and put him down with a single head shot.

“Mine’s down,” he said, keeping Bear and the team updated.

Two more loud shots came at him from the open side of a large crate stacked high near the ceiling along the back wall. Both slugs penetrated the wooden box in front of him and then clanked loudly off of something metal stored inside.

I better not be hiding behind a box of
grenades.

The second AK fell silent and Bear announced his target was off the board.

“The sniper’s in the big crate with the open face high up in the back,” John said softly.

“Let’s go,” Bear said.

John moved fast and low. He reached the corner of the far wall and started climbing. The crate was right above him when he reached up and fired a full clip into the opening. Bullets ricocheted wildly back out of the sniper’s hide that had been designed with a heavy steel plate set back from its one open side. Bear climbed up next to him and they both heard curses from inside the box.

“Fuck this,” Bear said, pulling the pin on a smoke grenade. Red smoke filled the air before he pushed it through the hole where the shooter’s rifle barrel was sticking out. Frantic screaming came from inside and then the font plate fell forward. The rifle was thrown out, followed by two terrorists who fell ten feet down to the steel floor below. They rubbed at their eyes and clawed at their throats, hacking, coughing, and trying to catch their breath.