One Minute to Midnight (Black Ops: Automatik) (16 page)

Chapter Sixteen

There were two men between Ben and Mary. Their backs were to him as they stalked fifteen yards up the street, submachine guns at the ready. He might be able to sprint across an intersection without detection and swing around their field of view. But a police car crawled one block parallel, blocking that path. And it was closing in on Mary.

He warned her through the mic, “Patrol car northbound toward you.”

“Copy,” she replied, terse. “Another one already here.”

Ben had to take the street. “I’m incoming.”

He leaned from the cover at the corner of a building and aimed Officer Green’s pistol at one of the security men’s legs. The man wore camo fatigues tucked into combat boots. The way he and the other man, who had a backpack heavy with gear, talked to each other, Ben could see they weren’t longtime partners. A good operator wouldn’t have to use words at all.

Ben fired a single bullet into the thigh of the man in camo fatigues. He spun to the ground and immediately started firing his submachine gun in Ben’s direction. Bullets sprayed in an uncontrolled panic. The man with the backpack joined in, not bothering to find out what they were shooting at.

Chips of brick and concrete danced around Ben, and he ducked back behind cover. The firing stopped. The wounded man groaned, and Ben heard his foot dragging as he stumbled across the sidewalk. Metal weapons clanged together. Ben knew if the other man was that close, he was helping his wounded partner and wouldn’t be quick on the trigger.

Ben couldn’t let them get to cover and pin him down. He peeked out, pistol first, and spotted them nearing the gap between buildings on his side of the block. Their weapons were in disarray, and fear crept into their eyes. He snapped off two quick shots, then sprinted across the street. The first bullet hit the wounded man in the other leg, taking him to the ground. The second bullet grazed the shoulder of the man with the backpack. He flinched and fired where Ben had been.

Still at a dead run, Ben shot wildly at the men to keep their heads down and their aim off. They flattened themselves on the sidewalk, and the backpack man dragged the wounded man into the gap between the buildings. Ben found his own gap on the opposite side of the street and had more room to move.

Eight rounds remained in Officer Green’s pistol. Ben’s ankle piece held eight more.

Mary spoke into his ear. “You’re drawing one of the police cars.”

Across the street, the wounded man sat on the ground and propped himself against a wall, his weapon in shaking, bloody hands. Backpack man stood at the corner of a building, scanning up and down the block with his finger on the trigger.

Ben was invisible for a moment. He glanced down the gap where he hid. A wood-and-metal fence spanned the buildings, too high to climb his way to the street behind. He saw the moving police car through the gaps in the boards. It would be on him after two right turns.

“I see him,” he told Mary. “You know, today started out real nice.” Feeling her next to him in bed had been a delicious slice of the impossible.

“Yeah,” she whispered. Like a dream.

The man with the backpack was sloppy and left his lower leg exposed as he peered from his corner to cover the street.

Ben lined his sights up with the man’s shin. “Then a motherfucker tried to kill me.” He fired a single shot, hit his target and knocked the man to the ground. The scream echoed over the street. Ben didn’t wait for a response and charged up the sidewalk farther away.

But as he ran, the police car turned onto the street. The two wounded security men shouted the cops in his direction and didn’t stop yelling as the car peeled away. Ben reached an intersection before they could catch up and made a hard right. To the left and half a block away, the bakery sign stood faded in the flat sunlight.

He rushed closer to Mary’s location and immediately bounded for safety next to a long, low appliance showroom. Another cop car parked at an angle twenty yards up the street, doors open and the officers out. One of them spotted him and immediately drew his pistol. The other followed suit, and they both fired without thinking.

Ben’s cover held. To his right, the other cop car screeched to a stop, and the officers jumped out and took cover behind their vehicle to pin him down from another angle.

Mary snapped, “What the fuck is going on down there? Are you hit?”

He answered, “It’s my gift to you.”

“You should’ve brought flowers.”

The second set of cops also fired blindly, wasting bullets on the brick wall.

The rounds were coming in head height, so he ducked low and fired twice at the cops on his right. One bullet tore through a tire, and the other struck an officer in the foot. “A firefight seemed more appropriate for a woman like you.”

Intense fire came from the first cops while the second set dealt with the wounded man.

Mary’s voice was dead calm. “It feels good to be appreciated, Ben.”

Bursts of automatic gunfire snapped out from high. Metal, glass and plastic shattered in the street. The shooting from the cops stopped, and Ben poked out of cover to see them cowering from a barrage coming from the rooftop. His heart jumped when he saw Mary standing partially concealed next to the tall sign with a barking submachine gun in her hand.

The first police car buckled from the onslaught. Tires burst, and the machine shed pieces of itself over the cowering officers. One of the cops scurried to safety on the other side of the car. Ben went cold with rage when he saw the cop aim up at Mary.

Ben shot him through the forearm, and the gun flew out of his hand. The uninjured cop from the second car turned his pistol toward Ben and drove him back to cover. More blasts crackled from Mary and rained down on the second car.

Four bullets remained in Officer Green’s pistol. Ben pulled the compact 9mm from his ankle holster and held a gun in each hand. Sirens approached, winding his clock for escape tight. He and Mary had to be gone before backup arrived.

“You’ve got the eagle eye up there, what’s the best way out?”

She responded, cool, “North. Let them see us turn west and draw them into the heart of town where they’ll tie themselves up. We double back east and hit that green ditch near the tracks.”

“I like it.” He crouched, ready.

“I’m going to need suppressing fire while I get down to street level.”

“Say when.”

“Stand by.” Clothing and gear rustled through her mic. “Bring hell.”

He broke cover, fired twice at the car on his right to keep those men pinned and sprinted to the left. The cops at the first car remained low. The wounded one crouched by the rear wheel and gripped his forearm. But the other man was a threat. He popped up and aimed his pistol at Ben.

Two bullets remained. Ben sent them at the man, hitting him in the elbow and the side of the ribs. The officer buckled to one side and fired. The shot punched into the giant window of the store behind Ben. Glass rang like a deep bell.

Ben cleared past the police car, and Mary sped around the side of the building to meet him in the street. She unslung a submachine gun and tossed it to him. It was a welcome weight. He tucked the empty pistol behind his belt but kept the backup in his other hand.

Relief washed over him as he ran next to her. “I think I love you.”

She glanced at him, face hard, but emotion in her eyes. “You’re just saying that because I gave you a bigger gun.”

They swung to their left through the next intersection. The cops on the street behind them shouted into their radios. Sirens stabbed out through town and drew closer to their area, pressurizing it. Following Mary’s plan, the two of them altered their course in a jagged line. First north for a block, then back east toward the train tracks.

The ruse worked, and their path was free from patrol cars. They found the green ditch along the tracks and slid to the bottom then climbed into the thicker foliage on the opposite side. The different sirens of paramedics and ambulances wailed in the hazy air. The wounded were being tended to.

Ben and Mary remained still, both covering different approaches to their hiding spot. She smelled of gunpowder, which was just as good as roses.

He pulled out his earpiece and kept his words a secret between them. “I’m kissing you right now.”

She also removed her com rig and whispered with a smile in her voice. “I’m kissing you back.” He warmed as if she really was.

“Now I’m stroking your hair.” The paramedic sirens stopped. They must’ve arrived at the wounded men. “And running my fingers down the small of your back.”

“You like danger?” Her body remained at the ready next to his.

“Of course.” He peered through thick reeds and didn’t see any movement on the street next to their ditch. “Why else would I kiss you?”

“I’ll give you danger.” She glanced behind them, where the cinderblock wall bordered the train yard.

“Bring it.” He pulled out his phone and tried to update Automatik with the latest developments. “Fuck.”

“What?” She tensed.

“We cut ourselves off when we took out the cell tower.” He punched through apps on the phone. “I can’t accelerate the timeline for the strike team insertion. They should start moving in now that we’ve gone silent, but it won’t be until after nightfall.”

“Sunset in...” She watched the sky. “Over an hour.”

“Last social media I’m seeing before the feed went dead mentions gunfire in town, but there’s a total news blackout otherwise.” He put his phone away. She shifted to address her duffel. While Ben covered the street, she snapped her tactical vest into place. The large break-barrel pistol hung in a soft case on her back.

“You got range with that thing.” He patted it. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” She rummaged in her purse and handed him a 10mm automatic. “Pillaged from the security assholes.”

“I was getting hungry.” He stripped the slide off Green’s empty pistol, removed the barrel and recoil spring and scattered them in the dirt among the weeds. The new weapon went behind his belt where the old one had been.

“We can hit the buffet.” She made a meaningful look to the cinderblock wall.

“The warehouse?” It had been a tight enough operation in the dead of night.

“All you can eat.” Her grin was predatory.

“And what we don’t take, we burn.” Enough running and hiding.

They scanned the street, saw nothing and broke cover for the wall. She went up, then helped him over. Shadows had already collected on the other side, and they remained hidden to assess the terrain. Tracks crossed in front of them. Two hundred yards to the left were the warehouses and beyond them the loading operation. Some men worked, others stood guard with assault rifles.

She nodded to Ben. He returned it, gave her a wink and sprinted for the warehouse.

* * *

The guards in the distance had superior range with their assault rifles. Mary would have to spray and pray with her short-barreled submachine gun if she and Ben were spotted. But years of doing business without resistance had dulled the guards, and they weren’t covering all their sectors properly. She and Ben had a clean run to the first ditch between tracks, where they gathered themselves again and sprinted to the warehouse. Because of the flat daylight, they didn’t have to worry about cutting a path between the motion detectors on the lights.

The two of them reached the wall and waited. Sirens continued to swirl in town, but that sense of emergency hadn’t assaulted the train yard. She indicated the window to Ben, and he helped her to its edge. The broad doors on the other side of the warehouse were closed. All the loading was going on at the other warehouse, leaving them free to operate. She didn’t know the status of the security system during business hours. To be safe, she used her knife to attach the magnet again and swung the window open.

She helped Ben up from the sill, and they both jumped down into the warehouse. Ben hurried to a crate and yanked the lid off. He pulled out two M4 carbines and tossed her one. There were enough magazines for both of them, but no bullets. They slung the carbines, and he stuffed the empty mags in his coat pockets while she put them in the pouches of her tactical vest. Ben took another two carbines from the crate to a set of thick metal shelves that supported older cargo. He jammed the barrels through a notch in the steelwork and bent them, rendering the weapons useless.

“We don’t have to be subtle anymore.” He left the rifles hanging on the shelving.

“You know what I want.” She was already walking. He trailed just behind, watching their perimeter. The Barrett was still in its case where they’d left it. She opened the lid and assembled the massive rifle. “Bullets.”

“Roger that.” Ben took the point on the way toward the front of the warehouse. “Didn’t see a lot our first time in. Maybe by the door.”

His hunch proved correct. The first six pallets in the warehouse were filled with ammunition boxes in all calibers. While the sounds of trucks backing up and forklifts clanging against the sides of train freight cars swirled outside, she and Ben loaded their magazines and primed their weapons for combat. She was tempted to grab more and more of the guns around them, but they needed to remain light enough to move. The Barrett was already enough of a beast to carry.

With the mags for the Barrett full, she took out more of the .50 ammunition and held it up for Ben. “Let’s do some damage.”

His eyes lit up and he bared his teeth. “Let’s.”

She used her multi-tool to pry the bullets out of several shells, leaving raw gunpowder to spread around the bases of the ammunition pallets. The wood was dry enough to catch, then send the flames higher to the boxes of bullets. For detonators, they left the shell casings on the ground with a little powder inside.

Two sets of footsteps sped up the concrete loading ramp at the front of the warehouse. The metal of an assault rifle ticked against its sling. Security guards. She and Ben immediately started up the aisle toward the back window.

The door flew open, one of the men speaking, “I don’t fucking know. Cell phones went dead, and there was a shootout with that Navy SEAL who’d been prying in—” He fell silent when he spotted her and Ben and lifted his weapon.