Echo Six: Black Ops 7 - Tibetan Fury (11 page)

"Guy, this is how we're going to do it. Admiral, you'll have to climb over into the back of the truck, and let Sergeant Welland join me while I brief him."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Grace put the vehicle into gear and drove toward the prison. She slowed fifty meters out before the wash of light from the overhead floodlights reached them. Out of sight of the guards, three men dropped out. Heinrich Buchmann, cradling his XM25 launcher, Vince DiMosta, careful with his Accuracy International Arctic Warfare sniper rifle. And a small, black NATO Admiral, wearing a borrowed, white camouflage uniform.

They snaked away into the darkness while Grace continued on toward the gate. The guards would be concentrating on the unexpected arrival, which would give the three men a chance to get into position. There were soldiers in each of the four towers, but they were looking inward, not outward. Talley's brief survey of the prison showed that once they'd rounded the corner from the gates, the three men who'd dropped off the truck would be able to run to their allotted position at the rear of the prison.

He keyed his mic, "We're pulling up at the gates. There's one guy on the barrier, three more clustered around the guardhouse."

A single click acknowledged the transmission. In back, he knew the men would be preparing to take out the guards. Grace slowed and then stopped. The soldier had his hand held palm up in the universal gesture to halt. He dropped his arm and went to her window. When he saw she wore the uniform of a lowly private soldier, he started shouting and barking questions. Slowly, calmly, she wound down the window and said a few words. He looked at her in astonishment. A woman! Then he let loose another barrage of words.

"Hey, Buddy," Talley called to him.

He glanced across, and then his jaw almost hit the ground in astonishment. He was staring at the bulbous sound suppressor fitted to the end of Talley's P226. He may have heard the 'thunk', as the first 9mm round left the barrel and took him in the throat, but it was debatable whether he heard the second bullet that drilled a neat hole in his forehead.

The clatter of his assault rifle falling to the ground alerted his comrades, and they'd started to react, until three suppressed shots spat out from the rear of the truck, and they slumped to the ground. Almost before the last man had fallen, Talley's men were leaping from the rear to drag the bodies out of sight and inside the guardhouse.

The dead soldiers had been wearing hooded, dark green ponchos against the weather, and within seconds, Kaz Lipinski had donned one of the capes and went back outside on guard at the gate as normal. Talley took a last look around, told Virgil to position the Minimi inside the guardhouse and out of sight of the rest of the prison guards, but able to give supporting fire to Kaz if it came to an attack. Then they waited.

Four minutes later, Admiral Brooks called from the rear of the prison compound.

"This is Brooks. We're in position."

"Roger that. Toss the grenades."

"Copy that."

Heinrich must have had his finger on the trigger. Five seconds later, the first explosion echoed around the prison compound, followed by a second, a third, and a fourth. Then they waited. He'd ordered Brooks not to open fire with the machine gun until the guards counterattacked. It was always useful to have something in reserve.

The response wasn't long in coming. Screams, shouts, lights coming on, doors and windows flung open, the bellow of orders, voices tinged with panic. Then men were running out of the smaller huts, the dormitories of the guards. Most of them were half dressed, pulling on coats and helmets as they ran, and slamming clips into assault rifles. They headed for the rear of the prison. Not a single man thought to reinforce the main gate, the gate that offered access and egress for the prison.

He could hear the Chinese guards firing blindly into the night, and then a siren began to wail. Searchlights in the guard towers clicked on, and the lights in the two towers at the rear, quartered the snow inside the perimeter fence. Incredibly, it still hadn't occurred to them that they could be under attack from the outside. Their mentality only extended as far as the perimeter fence, and their orders to prevent escapes, on penalty of death. There was no provision for those who would attempt to break in.

Vince first took out the searchlight and then switched to the NV scope before the guards in the tower had a chance to adjust ruined vision. Two guards, four shots, and that tower was out of action. The second tower went the same way, and then Jesse, firing from inside the truck where he'd made a hole in the canvas, took out the other two.

Talley clicked his mic, "This is Echo One. Rear team, open fire! Keep those bastards busy."

"Roger that."

He nodded to Grace. "Drive, straight to the administration building."

The men leapt back on the truck; she put it into gear and went forward, keeping the speed steady. Despite the blazing conflagration at the rear, there was no need to alert anyone that an enemy truck had penetrated the prison. She braked to a halt but left the engine ticking over. Rovere and Jackson jumped out of the rear and went to the office door. It opened before they reached it, and a man confronted them, a junior officer. He only saw two soldiers in white camouflage in front of him, and in the darkness and confusion assumed they were Chinese troops. He shouted what sounded like a question but got no answer.

Instead, the two men grabbed and disarmed him, and then pushed him back inside the hut. Talley nodded at Grace.

"That's it. We'll go inside and see what he has to say about Campbell. Guy, keep the rest of the men hidden inside the truck, and watch for hostiles. They won't keep fighting at the rear forever. Sooner or later, someone is going to smell a rat and check out the rest of the compound. Be ready to leave at a moment's notice."

"We'll be here," he acknowledged.

They climbed down and went into the hut. It was warm inside, heated by a huge electric radiator almost two meters long. The furniture consisted of a scarred desk, a half-dozen battered filing cabinets, and an electric kettle on a small table. Rovere and Jackson had pinioned the officer into the chair behind the desk and had their pistols pressed either side of his head. Grace fired a torrent of Chinese at him. He snapped a vicious retort.

"He said he wouldn’t tell us anything."

"Yeah, I got that." He still had the garrote Buchmann had given him, and he passed it to Rovere, "Dom, show him the error of his ways."

The Italian shrugged. "No problem. It'll be a pleasure to give this slant-eyed bastard a taste of what they dish out to the Tibetans."

He wound the steel wire around the man's neck and started to pull. The soldier's face was terrified, and he turned purple as the wire bit deeper into his windpipe. But there was also a strong streak of stubborn pride driving the man. He would die before he aided the foreign soldiers. Yet they were running out of time. They had minutes, maybe only seconds, before someone decided to check on security for the rest of the compound; Talley spoke to Jackson, their demolitions expert.

"Drew, we have to make him talk and fast. Can you rig up a small charge? You know the drill, pack it underneath his balls and threaten to blow them off."

Jackson smiled. "I can do that no problem, but I mean, is this for real?"

"Not if he talks."

He saw Grace shudder, but that was too bad. The guy had a choice, which was more than any of his prisoners would have been offered. Jackson started to rip open the buttons on his pants. By the time the man felt the small charge packed beneath his testicles, with a pencil fuse sticking out next to his dick, he was sweating, despite the cold.

"Ask him again. Tell him it's his last chance."

She barked out a string of Chinese. The only words he recognized were Tenzin and Davaika. At first, the man stayed silent, but when Drew bent down to activate the fuse, he barked out a further torrent of Chinese.

"He says Tenzin Davaika is in hut number two," Grace told them, "He says it is close to this building, a hut reserved for the most dangerous prisoners."

"He's a monk, for fuck's sake. What do they think he'd do, pray them to death?"

Drew chuckled. "If I was in this place, I'd be mighty tempted to try."

"Yeah. Grace, come with me. Let's go get Campbell. Drew, stay here. You know what to do."

They ran out the door. The noise of the battle at the rear of the camp was still loud, which meant they still had a little time. As they crossed the snow, she looked at Talley.

"What will he do to that officer?"

He paused before returning her gaze. "Would you want him coming behind us or calling in reinforcements from the city?"

She shook her head, but she didn't reply. Couldn't reply. She knew the answer, and it wasn't anything in the Buddhist nun’s manual. He picked up the pace and ran toward the hut with a large number two painted on the side in both Chinese and Western lettering.

Obviously, these are equal opportunity jailers. They’re happy to bang up any nationality.

The door was fastened with three heavy iron bolts but no padlocks. He threw the door open and ran inside. Grace followed. The first thing that hit them was the smell. Or rather the stench, the reek of sewage, human waste, mixed with the rank odors of too many men held in a confined space with no ventilation. And over it all, the unmistakable smell of fear. They had to suppress the need to vomit; the air was so thick with the foul, evil miasmic reek.

Grace began calling for Campbell. "Davaika! Tenzin Davaika! Are you in here?"

There was utter silence at first, and then a score of voices spoke at once. One of them was louder than the others.

"The man you seek is here, at the far end of the hut. Wait, I will bring him to you."

They watched as an elderly man came toward them. He wore the tattered remains of a Buddhist robe, and his breath was labored just with the effort of walking. He pulled along another younger man, and Talley recognized him immediately. They had reached the target.

"Tenzin Davaika?" The man nodded, "We're here to take you out. I guess you know who sent us."

"I know."

He was in an appalling state, covered in cuts and bruises, and one arm was bent at an unnatural angle.

"So you know why I won't use your real name."

"Yes. Where are we going?"

"Out of Tibet, as fast as we can leave this place."

Campbell didn't reply but turned to the man who'd helped him.

" Lobsang Cho, these people are here to help. You must come with us."

Before Talley could point out they'd come to bring out only one man, David Campbell, the older man shook his head.

"You go, Tenzin Davaika. My place is here. These people need me."

"They'll kill you! You know they plan to execute you."

The older man was calm. "Perhaps, perhaps not. It is in the hands of Buddha."

Talley stared at Campbell. "Listen, pal, we're here to get you out. Let's go."

"I'm not leaving without this monk. He is my friend, Lobsang Cho. Without him, I would be dead."

Jesus Christ, why can't anything go right?

He sighed. "Okay, okay, you win. Bring him along, but we have to go now. A couple more minutes, and this place will be a battleground, as soon as those Chinese at the back realize what's going on here."

"I'm not leaving," the elderly man insisted, "I have to attend to my people. You go. My fate is in the hands of Buddha."

Talley glared at him. "Listen, old man. If you don't move, you'll get us all killed. And you can forget Buddha, your fate is in the hands of the Chinese."

His expression remained stubborn, but he was obviously thinking.

"If I go, they all go. The entire hut."

"We can take you and Tenzin. That's all we have space for."

"They will walk."

Talley looked at the scarecrows that were pressing in on them from every corner of the hut. It was incredible that so many men could be packed in such a small space, even men as thin as these. Emaciated, starving, they didn't look as if they had the strength to reach the main gates, let alone escape the vengeful Chinese and disappear into the countryside. He pointed out his doubts to Lobsang Cho.

"As bad as conditions in the prison are, at least they have food and shelter. They won't get far. They may be better off in here."

The monk grimaced. "They are able to walk to their place of work and break rocks. They will manage. And if they don't, they will at least die as free men."

Talley shrugged. "I don't blame them. But we have to move now. Tenzin, you and your friend, we have a truck waiting outside the admin hut."

The American prisoner nodded and began limping toward the door. The older man supported his arm; it was obvious Campbell had experienced a bad time. Grace took his other arm, and between them they got out of the hut and almost had to carry him across the snow. For a few moments, Talley listened to the sounds of battle, and it was clear the action was winding down. It was time to go, before the enemy realized they'd been had.

Some of the men had climbed down from the truck and set up a defensive line, in case the enemy came back. Four of them rushed to help the two released prisoners into the truck. Guy raised his eyebrows.