The Reaper: No Mercy (27 page)

"Paris Six out!"

"
Red Six out
."

And the Reaper was hunting new targets, but most were already down. In the distance, he saw a great many vehicles starting up.
Well that was interesting, and planned for
, he thought.

*****

"Blue Two, Red Six, report!" Sokowski was calling for CWO-2 Winters, as he had been informed of Hewitt's condition and his evacuation to the hospital.

"
Blue Two, Red Six, nominal and hostages safe.
"

"Continue to hold."

"
Roger that, Red Six
.”

"Fox Six!" Sokowski called again over the net.

"Yes, sir," Rodriguez responded.

"Inverted ‘L’ formation on the seminary; they're starting to run. I want you in support. Keep driving them south and east towards the parking lot. We're leaving the seminary now, having secured a person of interest. Support our flanks."

"
Yes, sir
."

Sokowski was outside, splitting his team into two squads. The first, headed by his XO Brady, he sent to clear the small chapel. He lined up the remaining four members of his team into a semblance of his former skirmish line. The marauder leader he’d left cuffed at wrists and ankles back in the seminary. After directing one of the former captives to keep pressure on the compresses he had hastily slapped front and back over the shoulder wound, he’d left. They would collect the bastard later, and if he suffered a little frostbite while waiting, that was fine as far as Sokowski was concerned.

*****

Rossi looked up from the girl he was suturing as another stretcher-bearing team rushed in with another soldier; from where Rossi stood, it looked bad.

"You!" and he was pointing at one of the nurses-in-training. "Move this woman to post-op and finish the sutures ... now!" the last was barked when they didn't move fast enough. He already had the alcohol rag in his hand while simultaneously waving the team to bring the soldier over.

"Put him down here, and you two, cut his clothes off!" Rossi was again in his element, multitasking at a fast pace and talking simultaneously to several groups.

As the clothing was quickly stripped from the prone body of the solder, Rossi was already performing an initial assessment. As he checked for pupil dilation, he instantly recognized the face of Sergeant Schuster. There was no response, and a quick glance at the monitor checking blood pressure showed the veins were almost flat from blood loss.
Oh my God, and that many wounds
!

"Kerrigan! Where are you on that patient, I need you here now!" Rossi shouted as a sinking feeling hit the pit of his stomach. He read the dog tags around Shue’s pale neck, noting the blood type, and shouted again, "Four whole pints of A neg stat!"

"Pints or half pints?" the call came back, infuriating Rossi.

"I said pints, Goddamn it, and we'll need more!"

"Coming up, Doctor!" The hasty shout did not please him, as he was unused to his commands being questioned. His eyes swiveled upward to lock briefly with Nancy’s, who had already stripped off her gloves and was donning a fresh pair.

"I'm finishing up now, Doctor," she called.

"If she's stable, drop it and assist, or we'll lose him." And as quick as that, she was running towards them.

"Oh my God!" Nancy breathed as she peered down at Shue.

"Those were my thoughts exactly. From the discoloration over most of the torso skin surface, he's suffering massive internal hemorrhaging and we need to stop it fast before he flat lines." A quick glance at the heart rate monitor showed Rossi that the patient was almost gone already, and he shifted into high speed. "Two full surgical trays, stat!" he barked.

"Where do you want me to assist, Doctor?"

"You will not assist, Doctor. You'll take the lower half, I'll take the upper, and pray to God that we can save this man." Rossi was not deeply religious. Yes, he believed in a higher power, yet what form that power took was a matter of debate so he didn't put much thought in it. However, this man was so badly wounded he should have died seven times over, and if there was any divine presence out there willing to lend a hand, then Rossi was willing to take it.

"Yes, sir."

"I want two IVs and blood in him now!" Rossi shouted at the nurse beside him, and picking up the first of many scalpels that would be used on this patient, he started cutting with one hand, the other gripping a pair of forceps, desperately searching for the vein or artery that was ruptured. From the spreading discoloration, Rossi knew it would be only one of several, and working with a calmness that belied the urgency of the situation, he shifted into an almost-blinding display of speed.

*****

Doctor Rossi once again performed miracles, but this time he did not do so alone, for without Doctor Kerrigan's assistance they would have lost Shue multiple times. As it was, when the last incision was closed, Rossi still didn't give the patient much of a chance to live. Tiredly he smiled at Nancy.

"Good work, Doctor," he murmured as he surveyed the bloody stainless steel surgical tray and the equally bloody objects laid out thereon. He shook his head; while they had removed seven rounds from Shue's body, the man had still suffered multiple through and through wounds. Those rounds would never be recovered.

"Sir, I've never seen anyone perform work of that caliber at that speed in my life, and I have almost twenty years of experience as a surgical nurse. That was amazing." Kerrigan was in awe as she stripped her bloody gloves off and moved closer to Rossi before resting a hand on his shaking forearm.

"I was pretty good in my day. That was terrible though. I give him maybe a ten percent chance of making it."

"That's ten percent more than if you weren't here."

"Well, keep your fingers crossed," and as Shue was being moved into post-op, Rossi shouted again, "Next!" His arms had ceased to shake as he prepared to save another life.

*****

Rodriguez did as Sokowski directed and moved his four M-ATVs further into the cemetery, with two along the west side and the other two forming up with Assault Force One. Almost immediately, he saw the men of Sokowski's Special Forces unit; there were only a few of them left.

"Red Six, Fox Six, I have you in sight. Directing two elements on our right flank to sweep inward. We will provide support and push south towards the parking lot with your remaining team. You're missing some, over?"

"
Fox Six. They were detached to breach the chapel. They'll be done shortly and regroup with us, so keep an eye out while driving the fuckers east
."

"Yes, sir. Fox Six Out!” Turning to his driver, Rodriguez said “Let’s roll!” Gripping the joystick for the CROW, he started firing at half-hidden forms running through the gravestones away from them.
It’s a good thing I just changed the can
, he thought, as having a fresh four-hundred-rounds of .50 would come in handy.

Suddenly the M-ATV shuddered and, panning the gun mount around to the right, he zoomed out on the camera and saw one of the marauder trucks had rammed them in the side; the men riding were firing automatic weapons into the side of his vehicle which were bouncing off in all directions, unable to penetrate the armor.
What fools
, Rodriguez thought as he depressed the large machine gun until it was pointed at the vehicle. In abstract, he noticed the enemy finally notice and try to back their truck up. Howling with glee, he depressed the trigger again!

*****

Ringo shivered from the cold and blood loss as one of his slaves pressed down on his shoulder; she would not meet his eyes. He knew he was still bleeding, but not too badly, and he looked up at her snarling, "Cut me loose and I won't hurt you." He shivered again and waited for her to get a knife or something to cut the nylon ties holding him captive.

"No," she responded in a deadpan voice, causing Ringo to blink up at her in surprise.

"What? Fuck you!" he screamed. "You'll find a knife and cut me loose, or I'll beat the motherfucking hell out of you, bitch!"

Then and only then did her gaze meet his eyes, and as he stared into their vivid blue, he shivered again but this time not from cold, for her expression was not one of subservience, but of something else. He started to open his mouth again but she quickly laid a finger across it, so he remained silent while he wondered what she would say.

"I'll be right back with a knife." Relief flooded his body, and inwardly Ringo crowed with delight that his slaves were still obeying him. Once he was cut free, and got his hand on a gun, he’d be able to turn the tide on these asshole soldiers. They would never expect him to come at them from behind, he was sure of it.
There
she is, coming back, a knife in her hand. Wait. Who is that with her?

Dread filled Ringo as six of his former slaves surrounded him. Frantically, he tried to escape. Screw the blood loss if the bandages loosened, he was getting the fuck out of here. Twisting and turning, he tried to roll towards the doorway and freedom, only to be stopped as a bare female foot came down on his chest, holding him still.
These fucking bitches! He'd already had them all and they would obey him!

"You will ..." he started to shout, and another bare foot descended to land hard on his neck, choking him. What the fuck? Where were the soldiers? And then he noticed the slaves moving heavy furniture in front of the door. What were they doing? It was like they were creating a barrier. Terror suddenly overcame Ringo as he realized what was about to happen, and his efforts to free himself quadrupled. To no avail, as six pairs of hands grasped him tightly.

"You're not going anywhere, Masterrrrrr." Her voice was a purr, and as her face loomed over his, he noticed something else ... the knives!

"Mfffghh," he tried to say, then screamed incoherently when six knives descended as one. The pain was incredible ... and lasted a very long time. In the end, as his vision darkened, he thought it odd that they were all smiling down at him.

*****

The extra magazines in his MOLLEs helped, but Sokowski was still getting low; he needed a resupply if they couldn't wrap this up quickly. The marauders had finally started deserting en masse. It was up to Rodriguez to direct them along a specifically chosen path. Sokowski contacted him.

"Fox Six! Redirect with all four M-ATVs on the west flank. Push east, hard, and don't let up."

"
Copy that, sir, Fox Element. Hard push now
!" Behind Sokowski, the sound of the two M-ATVs near their position indicated they were turning and pouring on the gas, heading west to the new flanking maneuver. He spoke into his microphone again.

"Red Six to Blue Two, they are on the run. Leave one squad in place and punch hard east. Hard push. This is our moment!"

"Copy that Red Six. Hard push east, executing!"

Sokowski had just split Blue Team in half, but the bastards were running. The four left would just have to hold in case any of the marauders slipped by the rest of them. He needed trained shooters for this last assault.

"Red Team. Fast forward and mop them up. Drive them. Do not, I repeat, do not conserve munitions. Throw it all and let them see Special Forces in action against those who would enslave! De Opresso Liber!" he shouted. Within fractions of a second, the motto of Special Forces was shouted back, along with, “To free the Oppressed!” As Sokowski dove into a forward roll to come up firing behind yet another granite tombstone, he heard a chorus of other voices, all chiming in. One voice in particular said, "Semper Fi!" and Sokowski's smile was vicious for he knew whom that had come from...the Reaper!

"Attack!" he shouted, running forward as his M4 blazed like a ray of light in the morning sky. He waved his arm to his team, now full, since the chapel had been secured, and directed them to veer to the southeast. To his west and south he saw the liquid streams of tracers as all four of the M-ATVs opened up at once, along with the smaller forms of Blue Team dodging forward, all shouting “Attack!”

*****

"Get ready people! Do not rise yet! Stay low, but ready your AT4s and be careful. Remember what I taught you," shouted Olsen. He was no longer concerned with his group being heard. The firefight just a few hundred yards away was incredible. Multiple flares rode the early morning sky, and bright flashes of exploding grenades, streamers of molten rounds, and shouts along with the roar of more weaponry than he could count was seen and heard from Olsen's position. Along with that were the frightened screams of captives, but what the hell. This was what he lived for, and his team, Assault Force Two, was about to put a major hurt on some bad men.

Quickly, he crawled down the line, ensuring every civilian was locked and loaded, their weapon of mass destruction ready. Today, everyone had their game on, and the buzz and whine of rounds passing overhead was a continuous cacophony of sound as he grinned evilly and readied his first of two AT4s. Soon, the voice from the radio would shout out “Cease fire,” and that would be his cue to step into action.