Face the tyrant

“Lieutenant, you’re gonna have to do something, quick. Foot-mobiles converging on your position in numbers beyond 6.” I warn to O’Hara.

He didn’t seem to take heed of my warning, but i know he heard me. The enemy signatures were getting closer and closer to O’Hara, while he’s still rigging the charges. Why does he have to take so long? The world may never know.

5 seconds passed before he got back to me, as I saw him get up and take off through my Hybrid scope. “Roger that, Locke. Charges are set, making way to IP, see you in a few minutes.” He replied.

The enemy signatures looked around the trucks, but didn’t see O’Hara, or the charges. That was great. “Roger, making way to IP.” I replied to him.

I looked over to Flash, who was ready to f****n go. I felt the sides around my recon pack, I felt my energy drink still there. Unopened, peacefully undisturbed. Why was he so hyper?

“Flash, lets go.” I command. Flash replies with a few barks.

I stow my M40 and pick up my HK416 and continue the run to the wall, with Flash following closely behind. Steep hills and rocks f*****g everywhere, while running like an olympic sprinter when moving downhill, with Flash also rolling about every now and then. Sooner or later, we get to a slightly less elevated position, a little ways away from the wall. Flash sits and waits for me to move forward. I remove my recon pack and take out my Damascus Sierra-40 crossbow, a new addition to US Armories. Its small, compact, lightweight, and fires with over 300 pounds of pullback pressure, yet, so easy to load. effectively the size of an FN P90 when stowed correctly, It extends to the size of an M-16 when its being used, and comes with 5 types of bolts; Signal, Zipline, Explosive, Incendiary, and Winged, or “Birdy bolts”. The names are pretty much self-explanatory, but Birdy bolts are bolts with slick and sharpened tips with a frame that takes it 15 times farther than a basic bolt, with much less mid-flight speed reduction. The fins on the bolt were tweaked a bit, designed to take it farther than any other bolt, and make it look like a pair of wings, thus the name, “Birdy bolts”. the Zipline bolt also shares this trait, reasons why are obvious. I set up a zipline pole, concealed within a little foliage. I equipped a 4x magnifyer scope on the rail and sent a zipline bolt down to the structure, just high enough to scale the perimeter wall. I didnt hear the arrow hit its target, but I knew it did, because the rope pole began to collect the slack to make the rope tight, and locked itself. Yeah, the rope pole is a machine. What.

“You ready, Flash?” I ask

he replies with a bark. why do i talk to a dog…

“Alright, here we go.” I say, as i secure myself to the rope, and carry Flash with one arm.

Down the rope we go, all the way to the other side of the wall. Flash wasn’t terribly heavy, but he did have a few pounds on him. My recon pack was only about 40 pounds, a little lighter than a standard pack, and the rest of my gear was an additional 20 pounds. I was surprised the zipline could support all that weight. I could hear the distant crack of AK47s over the sound of the overhead zipline. Maybe they had a gun range, or something. Through all of that, we get to the structures wall, just beyond the perimeter wall, and stop my course with my feet, landing against the wall as i bend my legs to come to a full stop. We were only suspended about 7 or 8 feet, so I let Flash go first, as he harmlessly landed on his feet, and sat, waiting for me. What a good dog. Next, I went down as I let my feet hang toward the ground, and cut the zipline cord. My foot must have glided on the wall for a little bit and lost balance, because I fell and landed on my a*s.

“FFFFFfffffffuuuuuuuck…..” I whisper to myself, in decent amounts of pain, but I knew it wouldnt last forever.

Flash stood up and licked me a few times, probably out of sympathy. I knew I liked this one. I pat him on the head a little bit as i stand back up and ready my rifle.

“Good boy.” I admit.

I throw my HK to my front as I make way to the RZ, with Flash following quickly behind. I cut a little corner to get to the breaching area, and there, I see O’Hara, having a smoke. Did I really take that long getting here?

“What the f**k took you so long? I was starting to think someone killed you.” He said.

“Kill me? Ha, nobody can kill me.” I advise.

“I dont know man, you’re talking kind of big there, buddy.”

“I fell on my a*s, and survived.”

“Thats supposed to kill someone?”

“It would’ve killed you, you scrawny little f**k” I jokingly insult

“Whatever, dude. Get the charges set up, I got your 6.” O’Hara orders

“No, Flash has my 6.” I retaliate

“Just get the f*****g charges on the wall” He orders, again. He sounded like he was getting annoyed.

He walked a few steps from me as he pulls his MP7 to his front and kneels, looking for anyone to light up. Flash turned around and lowered himself, ears laid back, tail straight on the ground, and eyes wide open with a little bit of teeth showing. He was ready to kill someone...or, another one, rather. I grab the charges from my pouch and place them onto the wall in a way that formed a small rectangle. Each charge was rectangular, a little smaller than a brick, and there were 8 of them. One charge on the top and bottom, three more on the sides.

“Charges are up” I advise.

He pulls back and leans against the wall, a little far from the charges. I did the same, as i pulled Flash back with me. Then we hear talking a little ways away, in between the long increments of AK47 fire.

“You hear that?” I question.

“Yeah, they might’ve found the truck charges.” O’Hara replies.

“Blow ‘em.” I advise.

“Already on it.” He finishes, as he pulls his clacker to his palm, unlocks it and counts down.

“3...2...1…”

‘Clink’ said the Clacker, as the truck charges went off, followed by an ear-splitting explosion and a large and truly beautiful pillar of all-consuming fire. Immediately after, we set off the wall charges, which didn’t quite blow open a hole, but created smaller holes just around it. I booted the wall and created a perfect entrance to walk in from, as a portion of the wall fell, and broke into smaller pieces as it hit the ground.

“You good?” I ask.

“I’m good.” O’Hara replies.

Flash replies with a happy smile, to indicate that he, too, was good.

I release the safety on my HK as I make way into the structure. Checking every corner, every room, and every god damn wardrobe that Baas’s goons could hide in. A little after that, we hear the base alarm go off, as we look out of the window to see hundreds of these guys with big buckets full of water, trying to put out the fire. So much for recon.

“On me” O’Hara said, as he speeds in front of me with his MP7 in hand.

He stops at the threshold of a hallway, and kneels on one side of a door frame, Flash and I took the other side.

“Nods” He said.

He flipped on his Night Vision Goggles, while i reached for mine over my FAST helmet. I turned it on, and sooner or later, the whole room was bathed in a green and slightly white hue.

“IR lights” O’Hara said.

“Check” I reply.

“IR lasers”

“Check”

“Fresh mags”

“Check”

“Strobe”

“Check”

“Strobe on Flash”

“Uhhhh….check.” I said while I look over toward Flash to see a blinking light on his back, to indicate he was friendly...a friendly puppy.

“Alright, load up your Sierra-40, rifle suppressors will make too much noise. Load up a Birdy bolt and be ready to kill someone.” O’Hara ordered

“Rog’ “I reply, as i stow my HK in my recon pack, next to my M40, and pull out the crossbow that sat peacefully next to my MRE ration pack, a small bag the size of a little purse. I extended the weapon and pulled back the cord, required to load a bolt into the chamber. The sharp and slick point of the Birdy bolt glistened slightly through my night vision, it looked like it could glide completely through a target...like, some guy. An enemy. Folami Baas. I couldnt wait to pull this trigger again.

“Sierra ready” I advise

“Roger, on me. Down the hall, keep it quiet.” O’Hara responded.

While the base alarm was still going off, and the boots of Baas’s men stomping on the ground getting more water to put out the fire, we moved quietly, and quickly. Literally nobody knew we were here. Keeping the crossbow to my front, I inspect each and every little corner and room I could find someone hiding in.

“Phoenix.” O’Hara sort-of yells.

No response.

“Phoenix!”

Still no response.

“He must be lower, we have to keep moving.” O’Hara estimates.

We freeze in our spots for a second to the sound of boots stomping in our direction, and voices turning into screaming. O’Hara, Flash and I hide in a small room just a little bit back from where we were. This was a rather small room, fit for a childs bedroom. There was a couch, old desk, and other appliances from the 90s like lamps, TV’s and a loveseat or two...all covered in plastic, and dusty beyond recognition. I took Flash with me as we hid behind a couch and a loveseat with a small space in between. O’Hara hid in a small area concealed by curtains and a few blankets. We waited and waited as the stomping and screaming got louder until we see this whole mob of hostile fighters with AKs and water buckets in their hands, rush in the room and out the door leading to the exit on the other side. Flash began growling as the mob came to an end one guy stopped to listen in on what it was. I slowly pointed my crossbow towards the chest of the guy as he walks a little closer to an adjacent wall, to get a better view of what exactly he was hearing. I saw a knife coursing out from a curtain, where O’Hara was hiding. He was probably thinking the same thing i was. I aimed the sights on the guys chest, and pulled the trigger. The Birdy bolt was sent through the chamber system with a ‘khh!’ sound as the bolt penetrated the guys chest, and sent him flying to the wall behind him, where he was impaled, the tail and wings of the bolt sticking clean out of his chest like a straw in a frozen cup of water. He was hopelessly trying to pull it out, when O’Hara came out of his hiding spot and slammed his knife into the guys neck, where he died instantly. Blood was spitting out of his neck upon removing the blade from the guys neck, and a nice, big knife wound, clearly visible from across the room, was the main source of his bleeding. O’Hara broke off a piece of wood from the windowsill, and got a random piece of paper, god knows where he got it from, and wrote something in what looked like african. He slammed the paper onto the gut of the Sierra-40 victim with the piece of wood. more bleeding, but the writing was still liable.

“What’d ya write?” I ask.

“Dont f**k with us...in african.” He replies.

“I knew i liked you, you know that?” I reply

“Lets get moving. We have a Father to rescue.” O’Hara orders.

I load a new Birdy bolt into the chamber system, and continue to follow O’Hara, with Flash behind me. As we walk down the same hallway in which we ran back from, we hear a familiar sound over the radio.

“Team One, team One, this is SEAL team Two, making touchdown in one mike. Are you in need of SEAL sniper support?” said an allied SEAL.

“Team Two, we could use some support. Who makes the team?” O’Hara answered.

“Lieutenant Harrison the second and Petty Officer O'Reilly.” He said. “Whats yours?”

“Paul!” I think to myself.

“Lieutenant O’Hara and Petty Officer Locke.” O’Hara responds.

“Are you Jay-Gee or full L-T?” Harrison II said.

“Jay-Gee. We all know you’re full L-T, don’t rub it in” O’Hara said.

“Ah, you know me too well. Good for you, young one.” Harrison II responded.

“He sounds like he’s German.” I advised to O’Hara.

He smiles. “He is. Hes from Germany, same as Commander Harrison, the one everyone hates. Lieutenant Harrison came into the US a few years after Commander Harrison. Lieutenant has been here for about 10 years, Commander was here for 16, yet Lieutenant hasn’t lost his accent yet. They are brothers, but the Commander doesn’t talk much of him. Lieutenant Harrison is so much cooler than the Commander. Everyone f*****g loves him.”

He stops to look down a hall, with the MP7 looking first. Flash sits and whimpers, wanting some attention. I have my crossbow ready to fire at someone trying to flank us.

O’Hara lets me know its clear, and continues.

“German sniper support is always the best sniper support, yet nobody wonders why.” O’Hara finishes.

“Team One, we have touchdown. We will let you know when we are in position. Two out.”

“$5 says when we find Father Sam, they’ll be in position.” I announce.

“We’ll see.” O’Hara answers.

As we’re walking down an old, beat-up hallway, with rooms everywhere to the left and right, we come across, yet another hallway, but this time leading towards a basement. The downstairs area is softly lit, like there was a torch down there. Voices can be heard every now and then, voices of men and I think a woman or two. They sound like they’re either being tortured or crying, I couldn’t tell.

“Basement, lets go.” O’Hara orders.

Flash was the first to go down, skipping down the stairs like he was running for a treat he smelled down there. Next came O’Hara, who had his MP7 in both hands, stock extended, and safety off. Trigger discipline is maintained. Finally, I go, with my crossbow facing behind us for anyone, again, trying to flank us. The set of stairs was more like a spiral staircase, with the faint glow of fire getting brighter and brighter as we moved further down.

“Spirit.” O’Hara says. A slight increase in voices, but no actual response.

we waited about 5 seconds.

“Spirit!” O’Hara kind of yells.

We continue forward, and we finally get to the bottom of the stairs. There were metal bars placed all along the walls and interior of the basement. I heard different languages being spoken, one of them was english. We looked around with Flash whimpering a little bit to the sight of the poor souls trapped here. There were a few guys we saw that were either dead or lying on the ground, almost dead...with blood spatters on the walls and ground. We came up to the second to last cell, out of habit checking the last one...which is something we shouldn’t have done. There was a woman, skin was badly decomposed. She must have been dead for weeks. Her hands are cuffed to the steel frame of a bed, no mattress. Clothes intact, but bloody.

We check back to the other cell, to see a man in a white polo shirt and khaki shorts, very dirty. He was on his knees, facing away from us, mumbling to himself.

“Father.” I say.

Hes not facing us.

“Father sam.”  I say again.

He seems to react a little before finally looking over towards us. O’Hara to my right, covering the entrance, the only entrance, and Flash wagging his tail. He walks slowly to the bars, and holds on to them. I realized i still had my crossbow in hand, so i stowed it as fast as I could back into my recon pack.

“Are you...are you Guardians of the Gates?” He said.

“Lieutenant, hes a little delirious.” I whisper, looking at Father Sam. His eyes were gray and not entirely in focus.

O’Hara acknowledges “noted.“

“Yes, we’re the Guardians, and we’re here to get you out.” I tell Father Sam.

“These men are...they have sinned, they must be, must be punished…” He said, as im cutting the poles out of their place.

“Have they really not taken out that fire?” O’Hara asks.

“Apparently not.” I reply.

“F-fire? what? wh-where is the fire? Have you sinned as well? Guardians of the Gates?” Father asks...clearly not in this world.

“No, Father, we have not sinned.” O’Hara replies.

I finally cut through the last pole, with Father Sam still acting strange. I checked his body for injection wounds, but none were found. He was probably beaten senseless. There were cuts and bruises all along his chest and arms.

“Locksmith, hit ‘em up.” O’Hara orders.

“Gladly.” I reply.

I take the dispenser out from my med-kit. The dispenser is no bigger than a pen, and looks like a small letter opener. The gas inside is nitrous oxide, a little gas we use to non-lethally knock someone cold. We call it “Knock-out gas”, “Sleepy mist”, “Bedtime gas”, theres really no end to the nicknames we gave it.

“Father, open wide.” I ask of him.

He steadily cooperates, as i release the gas into his system. I let him to stand on his own for about a minute, before he starts to get dizzy. The gas was already kicking in. Eventually, he begins to fall, when I stopped his fall with my back, and carried him up the stairs, with Flash following behind, and O’Hara in front.

“He out?” O’Hara asks.

“Oh yeah, hes out.” I reply.

We silently come out of the threshold, and walked down the hallway, leading towards the exit we created. down a seemingly endless hall, vast with darkness and dust particles visible through my nods. Through the noise of boots running back and forth through the main entrance getting buckets of water to put out the fire, we silently make our way out of the base, passing the guy who was still impaled into the wall, with the bolt in his chest and the little note still there. We walk out, and came across the wall that we still have to get over.

“F**k, i didnt think that one through.” O’Hara admitted, looking up at the wall, wondering how he was gonna get Father Sam over it.

“Its not that high, just tie a rope on him and pull him up far enough to pick him up and scale the wall.” I reply.

No response was made. He took his grappling hook, and tied Father Sam with the slack. O’Hara threw the hook on top of the wall, and yanked to secure it. It wasnt moving if the wall didnt move. O’Hara jumped and pulled himself up to the top, and stood. He was exposed like nothing else. A beacon, if you will. I picked up Father Sam a little bit, as O’Hara pulled him closer towards the top.

“Man, hes got a few pounds on him.” O’Hara said.

“Acknowledged.” I reply.

he shook his head, with a slight grin on his face. By the time O’Hara got Father Sam on the other side of the wall, we heard some guy screaming at us to my left. I look over to see who was screaming, and it was one of Baas’s guys, pointing an AK at me. I went to grab my pistol, and the minute its barrel was positioned over the head of this guy, his head instantly shifted sideways, with blood and brains splattered all over the wall next to him. He drops to the ground, dead before he hits it. I was surprised Flash didnt get him first. I put my pistol on safe and holstered it back on my waist.

We hear over the radio, “Confirmed Headshot.”

A******s.

“Two finally got into place.” O’Hara advises.

“Acknowledged.” I say.

“Okay, im over the wall, ill get you some rope for you and Flash.”

“Acknowledged.”

“That better not be your answer to everything, dude.”

“Acknowledged.”

“God d****t, Locke.”

I laugh as I tie myself to the rope, and carry Flash. Up and over the wall we go, A little easier than I had expected it to be. Flash kind of wiggled out of my grip and jumped down the the other side, where he instantly sat and waited for me. As i got to the top, I noticed that O’Hara already had Father Sam over his shoulders, and was waiting for me. I wrap up the grappling hook, and ready up my HK.

“So, Two, youre gonna have our backs?” O’Hara asked over the radio.

“Negative, we have to get going. We will see you at an RZ. Two out.”.

“So much for sniper support.” I say.

“I know, right?” O’Hara replied. Flash gives another bark, hopefully in agreement.

We traverse the rocks and hills, taking almost 15 minutes to finally get to the top, and another 5 to get to the RZ point. O’Hara set Father Sam down next to a tree, where he laid there in deep sleep, and got on the radio to Azimuth, whilst signaling me to get a smoke pop ready.

“Azimuth, Azimuth, Linebacker 2. Father Sam is on site with us, and are ready to send him back up.”

5 seconds, as usual.

“Roger that, Linebacker. Hueys are loading up. Pop that smoke to indicate your position.” Azimuth said.

“Roger, popping smoke now.” He said, looking at me.

I pulled the pin to the grenade and tossed it a little further from me. A thick and steady stream of white, IR smoke emerged from it. Not visible from afar without proper infrared optics. I think we were safe.

“Check, we saw your smoke. Hueys are making way to your location, ETA is 5 minutes, standby.” Azimuth said.

“Roger that, Azimuth, we’re waiting.” O’Hara finishes.

I look around the area out of instinct, with my rifle in my hands. I hear rustling in the grass, I know that wasnt team Two, they were too far away from us. O’Hara and Flash heard it as well, and reached out to cover Father Sam, dragging him behind a tree. The smoke stopped spewing from the canister, as the rustling kept getting louder and louder. I took my rifle off safe and met a cover point, as i stuck the barrel out towards the direction of the noise. My finger is slightly squeezing the trigger, I want to kill whoever, or whatever, is there. The rustling kept getting louder and louder, with evident sounds of growling.

I hope to god it isnt what I think it is...

Author's Note

What do you think of the chapter? anything on the book itself? Remember to leave a little review as all are appreciated!!
Cheers! :)