Broken Worlds Super Boxset (81 page)

Luis and a few of his officers were gathered around the laptop to look at the schematics of the refinery Nelson had pulled up. The refinery itself was spread over six hundred acres of land, with just as many buildings, structures, and ambush points for him and his men to walk into.

“Our intel indicates that the majority of the forces are here,” Luis said, pointing to the center of the refinery, “at the distillation center. It’s one of the most vital sections of the refinery, and they know we won’t bomb it. Out of all the possible entrance locations, the easiest way in would be through the holding tank fields. We’d have a clear line of sight, but if we know it’s the easiest way in, then so will the sentries. It’ll be a dogfight either way, but this will give us the best chance from a strategic standpoint.”

The officers nodded in agreement, but Luis couldn’t help but notice the twitching fingers and pale faces.

“The Class 3s also have a team of hostages that are still keeping the refinery running, so they’ll most likely try and use the civilians as a weapon against us as well. Give your men the rundown, and have everyone meet back here and ready to go in thirty minutes. We’ll have the trucks take us as close as they can, and then we’ll be on foot the rest of the way.”

Nelson closed the laptop, and before he scurried away, Luis grabbed his shoulder. “Nelson, I’m going to need every single man for this mission.”

“Luis, I don’t think I’m suited for any military application.”

“No, you’re not. But I will need someone to stay behind and make sure Alex doesn’t take off. You think you’ll be all right alone with him?”

“Yes, that shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Good. And look, I also want you manning our communication frequencies. If we fail this mission, I’ll need you to make sure Admiral Frizen hears about it. Even if we do lose, we should weaken the sentries enough for another unit to come in and finish the job.”

“I understand.”

Nelson turned to leave, and Luis hesitated before grabbing his shoulder again and spinning him around. “Nelson, if something happens to me, I want you to promise me something.”

“I’ll do everything I can to find her, Luis.”

Luis gave a few heavy thumps on Nelson’s shoulder and turned away before the tear forming in the corner of his eye rolled down his cheek. He blinked a few times and wiped his eyes when Ray grabbed his arm.

“You sure Nelson will be all right with that guy?” Ray asked. “I mean, I love Nelson, but when it comes to confrontation, he’s not the most reliable source.”

“Alex will be cuffed at both his wrists and ankles, Ray. He won’t be going anywhere. Trust me. You ready for this?”

“If it gets us closer to getting Todd and Emma back, then yes.”

Once the orders had spread through the ranks, everyone loaded up into the trucks and headed toward the pillars in the distance spewing fire and smoke from the tips of their stacks. The entire refinery was surrounded by a concrete fence, so once they made it to the wall, the trucks were ditched.

Luis and his force of sixty men weaved their way around the massive tanks holding thousands of gallons of gasoline and other oil by-products. The constant hum of machinery in the distance drowned out the sound of their boots, providing good cover, but also making it difficult to hear anyone that was sneaking up on them. 

The group of sixty had broken off into six smaller units of ten to allow them to navigate through the area with more stealth than the cumbersome stampede of sixty pairs of boots in one location. Their radios were all they needed to alert one another of their location or any obstacles they ran into.

It’d been a while since Luis had done any type of mission like this. Up until this point, everything had been a smash-and-grab job, just bulldozing their way into the communities and blasting anything in a uniform. But this was different. They were about to stumble upon the lion’s den, and it just so happened to be feeding time.

“Containment field clear,” Luis said over the radio, keeping his rifle up with every step forward. He received confirmations from the other units with the same response.
So far, so good.

White clouds of steam hissed from pipes overhead that cast a humid heat, only adding to the sweat dripping down Luis’s face. The hallway of pipes twisted and turned in grid-like patterns above them, and massive steel beams kept the maze from collapsing on their heads.

Each of those pipes funneled different types of gas and liquids, and they were so thick that they blocked out the sun above them, without the aid of an actual roof. One wrong-placed bullet could release whatever poisonous contents those pipes carried. 

Luis and the nine other men that composed his unit were alone in the steel jungle gym until a bullet ricocheted off the steel pipes around them, breaking the machinery’s monopoly on sound. The unit split in half as Luis and four others went to the left for cover, and the other five went right. But with all of them crouched behind whatever thin pieces of pipes they could find, no other shots were fired.

“Who’s got eyes on it?” Luis asked.

“I’ve got nothin’, Commander.”

“Looks clear.”

Luis had been in combat situations before, even prior to the missions against the Coalition, but never had his heart pounded this hard, this fast. He was letting the legends of Class 3s get to him. The legends of ghosts. Ghosts that could kill a man without ever showing their faces.

Then, just as mysteriously as the firing stopped, a round of machine-gun fire erupted that punctured the pipes around them, exploding hot gasses and boiling liquids, which only further inhibited their line of sight.

One of his men flailed on the ground, gripping his face, which had blistered and reddened from whatever gas had disfigured his skin. Luis fired in the direction of the machine-gun fire for cover and made his way over to his fallen soldier. “He’s at the top of the pipes!” Luis yelled then squeezed off a few rounds that sent the sentry packing. “Medic!”

The soldier’s face had swollen to almost double in size, making him unrecognizable. White pus started oozing from the patches of red along the side of his face. When Luis looked over to the medic, the medic simply shook his head.

“Nelson?” Luis radioed, but the only thing that came back was jumbled static. “Nelson, do you copy?” Another burst of static blew through his earpiece, and he grabbed the medic’s collar. “Get him out of here. Anyone else still able to fight, with me now!”

Luis turned the corner of the pipe maze, which opened up into another field. He held his men there as he searched the area, wiping away beads of sweat stinging his eyes as he looked over every possible hiding position for the sentries to hold.

“The distillation is just to the northeast of us. This piping runs east for another hundred yards. We use this as our barrier until we can meet up the rest of the units. Keep your rifles up, and watch your feet. We don’t need anyone triggering a trip wire.”

They kept a tight formation with the pipes behind them and their eyes peeled for anything that might be heading toward them. Then, before Luis had time to react, another shot rang out, and blood splattered on the side of Luis’s face as another one of his men hit the ground, with only half of his head hanging on to his neck.

“Cover!”

A cascade of lead rained down upon Luis, and everyone scrambled behind whatever piece of concrete or steel they could find. Bullets ricocheted, shooting sparks and dust into the air until all of Luis’s men had made it behind some type of structure, and the bullets finally stopped. More than once, Luis could feel the vibrations from the shots hit a little too close to home. The sniper was good, and even with the amount of cover they had between here and the distillation facility, there was plenty of room for the sniper to take them out.

Luis peeked over the edge of the concrete slab he was behind to search for the other units. “Does anyone copy? I repeat, does anyone copy?” Nothing but silence. For all Luis knew, the rest of the men were down.

“Listen up!” Luis said, gathering the men he had left. “We go in two at a time. We make him have to choose where he’s going. You don’t pick a cover farther than twenty yards, got it? The longer you’re standing, the longer he has to line up a shot.”

They had to make it farther than just this. The longer Luis and his men were stuck here, the longer it would take for the military to invade Topeka and end this conflict for good. But until Luis was inside that control room with nothing but dead sentries at his feet, that wasn’t going to happen.

***

With every shot and scream that echoed over the radio, Alex cringed. There wasn’t any doubt in his mind that the Class 3s had that placed locked down tighter than Fort Knox. The shackles around his wrists and ankles only exacerbated the feeling of helplessness as he wriggled and writhed on the floor of the tank. Nelson, ignoring any grunts and groans of Alex’s displeasure, was fixated on his laptop.

“Nelson, you need to call for backup,” Alex said.

“I already did,” Nelson replied, continuing his abnormally fast keystrokes without even breaking eye contact with the screen.

But while Alex’s voice wasn’t able to break the barrier of concentration that surrounded Nelson, the blast of gunshots combined with the high-pitched howling of screams caused the rhythmic pace of Nelson’s fingers to slow.

“If Luis and his men are still alive, then they won’t be by the time the cavalry arrives,” Alex said.

“Can you get them out?”

“Yes.”

Nelson immediately reached for the keys and released Alex from his restraints. Every muscle in Alex’s body let out a sigh of relief for their much-appreciated emancipation.

“Show me Luis’s entry point,” Alex said, walking over to the computer. Alex grabbed one of the AR-15s inside the tank, along with two 9mm pistols and enough loaded magazines to make sure he made it out alive or killed as many sentries as he could.

The three-dimensional schematic rotated, and a small dot blinked where Luis and his men had infiltrated the refinery. Nelson constructed a line that followed the path they would have followed upon breaching the walls. “Moving at an average walking speed of four miles per hour, then factoring in stoppage time for recon, as well as any obstacles they encountered, they should be around right here.”

“And what the hell is that?” Alex asked.

“That would be the conversion unit. What it does is change the molecular structure of the heavier materials in t—”

“Nelson, I don’t need the scientific breakdown of what’s happening, I just need to know if it’s sensitive to bullets.”

“Yes. Yes, it’s very sensitive to bullets.”

After receiving a few other quick summaries of what was and wasn’t explosive, Alex jumped behind the wheel of the only truck that was left and made his way to the refinery, leaving Nelson to stand guard and help the cavalry find what was left of the bodies if Alex failed. Once he made it over to the wall, he parked the truck with the others and scaled the concrete barrier to the other side.

The first few steps onto the massive acreage that was the refinery were slow, hesitant. This was uncharted territory, and as much as he admired Luis’s “shoot first and ask questions later” mentality, he couldn’t afford any slipups.

Whenever you go hunting, it’s equally as important to have a good understanding of not just the animal, but also the animal’s environment. And if there was ever a fish out of water, then it would be Alex right now. He bent to one knee and listened, holding his rifle like it was a child, and waiting for any sign or direction.

The distant hum of the oil machinery would only be briefly interrupted by the fast howl of the wind across his ears, but that wasn’t what he was waiting for. And then, after a spout of fire had erupted from one of the stacks in the middle of the refinery, Alex heard the distinct thump of gunshots coming from the northeast.

Alex kept to the perimeter of the wall as he sprinted east. After a good five minutes of keeping up a solid jog, Alex came to a stop, the left side of his stomach cramping. The gunshots were still within earshot, but coming farther from the west now. If Alex’s ears were serving him right, and he headed north, he’d come up right behind the sentries.

Massive gas pumps lined the sides of a large overhang where the truck tankers came and filled up before heading off to distribute them to gas stations around the country. At least, that’s what they used to do. Now they were sent to the Coalition bases, which held all the fuel and controlled the flow of every piece of transportation in the Midwest.

Alex had a system. With every thirty yards he moved forward, he stayed hunkered down for thirty seconds before moving again, and making sure to change that thirty seconds to either forty, thirty-five, or forty-five seconds sporadically, so any snipers didn’t pick up his pattern.

Patience was one of the hardest aspects of hunting to master. Most people can learn to shoot a rifle fairly accurately, and while the art of tracking takes time to get a handle on, it’s not impossible to learn either. But where he’d seen so many of his friends fail would be waiting for their shot, avoiding the aggressiveness of startling their game. That’s why he stopped and waited after each sprint. He was banking that with all the action happening across the refinery, there would be a few itchy trigger fingers just waiting to up their body count.

Most of the firefight was concentrated to the west of him, and he could see a few of the Class 3s posted up in the rafters under the cover of thick beams of steel. Alex propped himself up against the side of a concrete wall and rested his elbows along the top. The crosshairs of the scope lined up just between the knee and the hip of the Class 3 picking off soldiers to the east, with only a few inches of space between two pieces of rigid steel.

Aside from the random spurts of breeze, there wasn’t much wind, and the dry heat would cause the bullet to exit the barrel at a higher velocity, causing it to rise. Alex dropped the crosshairs less than half an inch and exhaled. He placed his finger on the trigger, watching the Class 3 squeeze round after round.
Wait for it.
Each shot bringing down one of Luis’s soldiers.
Wait for it.
He could be pinning down someone who needs medical help.
Wait for it.
He’s killing soldiers.
Now.

Alex squeezed the trigger, and the bullet hit the center of the sentry’s thigh between the three-inch gap of the steel beams, and the sentry collapsed to the ground from his position almost two stories high. But before Alex could swing his rifle to the other sentry, he had legions of bullets barreling toward him. He ducked behind the wall for cover and looked to his left, where there was nothing but open space. He darted his head right and could see another pillar of steel closer to where Luis’s soldiers were. Alex took a deep breath then darted for the pillars.

Bullets danced around Alex’s feet on his run, signaling that there was more than one Class 3 hunting him now. He slammed his shoulder into the steel beam as his forward momentum came to an abrupt halt.

Still feeling the vibrations from the bullets hitting the opposite side of the column, Alex pivoted right and found another Class 3 heading right for him. He brought the creature into his crosshairs and pulled the trigger but was a half second too late, allowing the animal to dash behind a concrete barrier.

Another cluster of beams was just to his right and would help continue his trek east to Luis and the other soldiers. The number of cover locations, combined with their close proximity to one another, would give him the ability to maneuver fairly easily through the area.

Before the Class 3 had an opportunity to regain any position, Alex dashed to the pillars and began the methodical approach to Luis and his men in the distance. With the heat of battle engulfing him, he abandoned the pattern upon his earlier arrival and darted between the pillars as fast as he could.

The ring of the bullets from the sentry in pursuit landed on each pillar in different tones, exuding an ominous timbre, as each ring grew louder with the sentry’s chase. With the amount of sweat on his shirt, he felt like he’d been swimming for the past hour. The sweaty fabric clung to his skin with a relentless neediness he just couldn’t shake.

The clunk of the refinery’s machinery intensified along with the symphony of bullets behind Alex as he continued to duck and evade the foaming wolf behind him. A few times, he caught the flash of the sentry’s eyes. They were dark. Black almost, like they were stoic portions of the night sky fighting the light of stars that tried to snuff it out.

“Keep pushing!”

The harsh, authoritative tone was a voice Alex immediately recognized, and he found himself exhaling a sigh of relief that Luis was still alive.

The pillars ahead of him blocked most of the view, but between his sporadic running he was able to catch random glimpses of rifles, legs, and finally, with sweat on his face and bloodstains on his arms, he saw the stout, muscular figure of Luis, who looked equally as astonished to see Alex there with a gun in his hand.

“Look out!” Luis yelled.

Alex immediately ducked behind the nearest pillar as gunfire erupted from all sides. He knelt down, lowering himself to waist height, then turned the corner and sent three bullets into the legs of the Class 3 chasing him, who collapsed in a half-hobbled run.

The majority of the gunfire was coming from the north, but judging from the condition of Luis’s men, they weren’t going to be able to make a push anytime soon.

All of the wounded had been gathered behind a steel silo, where the medic had his hands full trying to patch everyone up. Whatever evacuation there was wouldn’t arrive in time to save most of them. With fatal bullet wounds to the abdomens, legs, and chests, there would be more body bags than soldiers going home. Unless they were able to take the base quickly.

“Luis!” Alex said, shouting above the gunfire.

Luis dropped the empty magazine and reloaded, keeping his eyes on the targets ahead. “How the hell did you get in here?”

“Nelson.”

“I’m gonna kill that guy.” Luis squeezed off another few rounds and then joined Alex tucked behind one of the concrete walls.

“What’s your plan B?” Alex asked.

“It’s the same as plan A. Retake the refinery,” Luis answered, with puffs of concrete dust exploding just above both of their heads. The wall they used cover behind was starting to look more like a block of Swiss cheese than concrete.

“I might be able to help with that,” Alex replied. “How many grenades do you have left?”

“I need an ordinance check!”

The makeshift collection of grenades, claymores, and one RPG gave them a formidable collection, but they were only going to get one chance to make it work.

“We need misdirection. That’s the only way we’ll be able to throw them off,” Alex said. “They think we’ll do anything not to damage the structure of the facility, and they’re using that as much as they can to their advantage.” Alex picked up one of the grenades. “We need to change that.”

“No, we don’t. We can’t afford to lose this installation.”

Alex pointed to a few large cylinders in close proximity to the sentries. “Those tanks were reserved for other oil-collected substances, like petroleum jelly, which haven’t been filled in years. The refinery’s only productions now are gasoline and jet fuel. That’s why the sentries don’t care where they’re located, because they know we won’t use ordinance.”

“I need confirmation for that.”

It could have been the frustration of the day or the fact that he’d been locked up in a tank for almost twelve hours, but Alex grabbed Luis by the collar and pointed to the group of wounded soldiers that his overwhelmed medic was tending to. “You see that? You’re not going to have any men left in about ten minutes if you don’t do something. That’s your confirmation!”

Alex had always weighed a man by how he treated not just the men around him, but also the men under him. A leader understood objectives, but he also understood that objectives couldn’t be completed if everyone under his command was dead.

“Do it,” Luis said.

Alex gripped two grenades, one in each hand, pulled the pins on both, and held them tight. “Fire in the hole!” He chucked the two grenades as hard as he could to the empty structures next to the sentries.

The Class 3 sentries scrambled, caught off guard by the sudden change in tactics, and before all of them could retreat to a safer distance, the grenades detonated, sending a magnificent explosion of fire and steel into the Texas sky.

With the sentries now on their heels, Alex and Luis led the charge of men as they pushed forward, closer to the distillation center, keeping the pressure of chucking grenades while they still could, before they made it the area where they couldn’t afford that type of recklessness.

While most of the sentries retreated to the stronghold of the distillation center, two Class 3s refused to give up their position. The self-indignant defiance of running didn’t sit well with them, and they instantly became a thorn in the side for both Luis and Alex.

The smoke from the resulting fires hazed the line of sight and made it difficult for both sides. Alex was caught off guard by a vicious bout of hacking and coughing from the acrid smoke. He was separated from Luis and the remaining soldiers still healthy enough to continue the mission. He placed his hand on the pipe next to him to keep himself from keeling over, and he felt his hand hit a lump. When he looked up he saw that it was a C-4 explosive device.

“Luis!”

But with the two sentries still keeping up their relentless last stand, Luis couldn’t hear Alex shouting. And that’s when Alex noticed similar devices placed randomly at other locations. High above them, and down at their feet. Even if they were able to re-take the refinery, Gordon wasn’t going to let anyone else have it. Once the sentries determined that they could no longer hold the position, they were going to bury they place and entomb whoever was left inside.