Echo Six: Black Ops 8 - ISIS Killing Fields (28 page)

"You killed my men."

He couldn't help it. He chuckled. "Pal, you started a war in this region, and people get killed during a war. Sure, I killed some of your men. Let me tell you, it was a real pleasure."

So fuck you, asshole. If you don't like it, kiss my ass.

The sudden blow was vicious and knocked him to the ground. He started to get to his feet, but a rifle barrel pressed into his neck, one of Khalil's guards.

"Stay down, Commander Talley. I want you to crawl on the ground, like the serpent you are."

He continued to get to his feet, ignoring the gun. "Fuck you, asshole. You want to kill me, you kill me."

The ISIS leader kicked him hard. "Crawl, you dog."

Someone screeched at him, "Khalil, do it. Our men need help up on the hill."

A harsh laugh. "This man’s death will be long and agonizing. Besides, our fighters need no help to finish off the infidels. They have them surrounded.” He looked at his prisoner. “On your knees and crawl, Talley. Crawl to me, and beg for mercy, for a quick death. Perhaps you would like to convert to Islam before you die and hope for forgiveness in the afterlife."

Talley spat out his defiance. "I'd sooner clean out the shit house in a leper colony. Go fuck yourself."

"You dare to insult Islam?"

"The same way I'd insult a festering sewage pipe. I don't know which stinks worse, raw sewage or Islam."

He knew he was going to die, and it was his last hope, to incite the man to use the rifle and pull the trigger. End it fast.

It didn’t end. Men came out of nowhere, screaming Arabic war cries. A bunch of Iraqis was racing toward them. In the lead, to his astonishment, was the Special Forces leader. Captain Rashad Salim had his pistol drawn, and as Talley looked on, he opened fire as he ran full pelt toward them. Behind him, his men cocked their rifles, and bullets began to whistle and whine over the heads of Khalid's fighters. Two went down, a third lurched in shock as bullets peppered his legs, and then he fell. The fourth dropped his rifle and put up his hands, as did Bino's renegade Iraqis. Their Captain had re-entered the game, and Talley could see them looking from Lieutenant to Captain, and Captain to Lieutenant, weighing up the odds how best to survive.

Khalil and Jafaar ran like frightened deer, veering away to race up the slope. For now, he had to ignore them. The Iraqis were about to jump, and he had no way of knowing which way. Only that he and Reynolds were unarmed, and they held all the weapons. The Iraqi Sergeant moved first. He glared at Salim with a look of hatred and swung up his rifle. He fired, missed, and fired again. This time, one of his soldiers, loyal to the Captain, jumped in front of the muzzle and intercepted the bullet. The two shots were like a catalyst, two elements of a binary structure that woke them from indecision. In the next second, men were shooting indiscriminately, and bodies began to tumble. A half dozen rounds tore the Sergeant into bloody ruin, and Bino was shouting at them to stop.

Talley and Reynolds slid away unnoticed amongst the carnage, heading for the Humvee where he hoped to find Drew and Geena alive.

"Boss, take this." He looked up at Roy's whisper and took the offered AKM, "I picked up two, and both magazines are full. The owners won’t mind. Salim’s men got them."

He grinned his thanks. “Let's go find Drew and Geena."

The sand had started to blow again, but it was light enough for them to see across the tiny valley. The Humvee was two hundred meters away, and he ran to it with a feeling of dread gripping his heart. Drew stepped out just as he got his hand to the rear door."

"She's okay, Commander, still hanging in there."

He opened the door and leaned in. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was loud and shallow, a slight rasp sounded from her lips as she exhaled. Drew opened the door the other side, and Talley looked at him. "She doesn't sound so good."

A pause. "No, she doesn't. I checked in on her a few minutes ago, and she's changed since then. I think it must be the sand and dust she ingested in the tunnel. It's making it difficult for her to breathe. If she was moving around, she'd spit it out, but lying unconscious, it's getting worse."

"Drew, what can we do?"

He shrugged. "Only one thing to do. She needs a medic, and mighty fast." He glanced at the gun battle still raging across the valley, as the two factions of Iraqis blazed away at each other. "Problem is, getting out of here ain't gonna be so easy."

"So let's give 'em a hand. Roy, it's time to take sides."

"Copy that. I was kinda hoping you'd say something like that. We target Bino's men, yeah?"

"We do. Kill the treacherous fuckers."

He ran a lung-bursting sprint that took him behind Bino's men, and he swerved to their flank to avoid the bullets from Captain Salim's force. He glanced aside at Roy as they ran. "We'll take them by surprise. They won't be expecting anyone to hit them from the side. Don't fire until I give the order."

"Got it."

They curved around to the south of the Iraqis and stopped close to their flank. They hadn't seen them, and they were careful to stay out of their peripheral vision until Salim noticed them, and he gave a tiny nod. The Captain was a different man, using his pistol to close with the enemy and shoot them down. One of his men advanced with an assault rifle and shot down anyone who looked as if they were an immediate threat. While Talley watched, Salim shot two men opposite him, and his flankers accounted for two more.

He was leading, and his small force hung back, but their Captain gave them courage, and they advanced steadily to the target. Talley decided it was the moment.

"Hit them, charge!"

They ran at the renegade Iraqis like an express train. Some turned to face the new threat, tossed their weapons away, and threw up their hands. One of Bino's men was fast enough to get off a short burst from his AK, but it went wild. Talley and Reynolds hit him at the same time, and he went down, riddled with bullets. It was all over. Almost.

Bino had five survivors and Salim eleven men. The Captain barked an order in Arabic, and guns blazed. The Lieutenant was the last to die, looking imploringly at his officer, as if astonished he was about to pay the ultimate price for his deceit. The guns fell silent, and Salim marched briskly up to Talley, his face split by a huge smile.

"Commander, I think we got them all, the dogs."

"You did well, Salim, but we're not done."

"Not done?" A range of expressions flicked across his face, fear, uncertainty, the old Salim. Then he steadied himself, "I understand, your men are still holding out up there. Come, I will lead my brave Special Forces to their aid."

He suppressed a grin. "We'll go with you, Captain, but make it quick."

They ran up the dune, and every step was a hard slog. The loose sand dragged at their boots, but they made it to the top, and so far the ISIS hadn't noticed them. There were around fifteen of them. They'd cornered Guy's small unit in a shallow depression in the sand. The hostiles were laughing to themselves as they poured volley after volley at the trapped NATO men. All Guy’s operators could do was hunker down as the fusillade of bullets whistled overhead.

They hadn't seen Talley, Reynolds, and the Iraqis crest the dune. One of them took out a grenade and pulled the pin. Talley hit him with a double tap, and he keeled over. Two seconds later, the grenade exploded, and three of the ISIS went down, shredded by the fragments. They swung to face the new danger, but too late.

Salim was shouting orders, his voice strident and loud above the din, and his troopers flung themselves to the ground and opened fire. Talley and Reynolds went to one side and prepared to head off any runners, but there were none. Somehow, the Iraqis had found a new and deadly purpose. Maybe it was the cowards who'd become turncoats, the Sunni sympathizers who'd stabbed them in the back. Whatever it was, they were on their way to becoming what the flashes on their sleeves said they were. Elite.

Guy emerged first, putting his head out and staring at Talley and Reynolds, and then the Iraqis. "Am I seeing things?"

He shook his head. "Nope, they finally decided whose side they were on."

"They actually did some fighting?"

"Damn right. We couldn't have done it without them."

Salim joined him. "They're good soldiers, every one of them." The Iraqi beamed at his men, and his eyes carried an emotion they hadn’t seen before. Pride.

Rovere was next out, and he looked at the dead bodies, all black clad, all ISIS. Then he grinned at Talley. "For this relief much thanks; 'tis bitter cold, and I am sick at heart."

"Jesus, Domenico, do you never give up? Tell it to the Captain here."

He did, and Salim raised his eyebrows. "Bitter cold? But it's warm, we're in the desert."

"Poetic license, my dear Captain. My way of saying thanks."

Heinrich emerged next, then diMosta. Guy broke up the party with a reality check. He examined the dead bodies and shook his head. "We have a problem. We didn't get the main men. Khalid and Jafaar. Anyone see where they went?"

Talley pointed over the other side of the dune. "About five minutes ago, they were running. Just the two of them."

Buchmann and diMosta spoke at the same time.

"I'll use the truck."

"It's a job for a sniper. I saw one of these men with a Dragunov. Stupid bastard was using it as an assault rifle, but if he hasn't damaged it, I'll locate those men and put a bullet in them."

"It's a job for the Oshkosh," Buchmann insisted, "Is it still in the valley?"

Talley jerked a thumb. "Down there, about three hundred meters that way."

"Sehr gut." He pounded off, his boots making deep indentations in the sand.

Vince grinned as he located the sniper rifle and examined it. "It looks good. I reckon I'll mosey over there and check out the view."

"They've had a head start," Talley warned.

"Yeah, that's what they'll think. I've taken a definite dislike to those guys. They're at root of all the bad things that happened to us since we crossed the border. I'll take care of 'em before Heinrich turns them into Islamic stew."

He strolled away, clutching the Dragunov. Talley took a last look around, but the area was secure. "I'm going back to the Humvee. I need to..."

"I'm coming with you, Boss." Roy was by his side as he walked away. "She'll be fine, don't worry."

"You heard what Drew said. She needs a medic, and fast."

"In which case, we'll get her to a medic."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I just hope they finish off those two men real quick."

"This is Heinrich you're talking about. He'll be on their tail like an avalanche. And Vince, when have you know him to miss?"

"It's an unfamiliar rifle," he said, knowing diMosta could shoot the eye out of a bird in flight when most men couldn't even see it, "She doesn't have much time, Roy."

"She won’t need it."

They reached the Humvee, and he looked inside at the girl. She was still unconscious, and Drew was wetting her bruised lips with water. He looked up as the men arrived. "Still no change, but I want to get her out of here sooner rather than later. What the fuck..."

The engine of the Oshkosh came to life, and a second later the ungainly truck was picking up speed, heading east. The direction they'd seen the two ISIS leaders take. He screwed up his gaze to stare into the distance and saw them, two tiny figures heading for the blockade of Toyota pickups. They'd seen the truck boring down on them, left the trucks, and started running up the side of the next dune.

The Oshkosh was designed for all terrain work in the worst, most hostile of environments. Buchmann merely spun the wheel and headed after them. Talley watched him close on the two running figures. They were desperately trying to outrun the charging behemoth. They may as well have tried to outrun a Tsunami. One of them, the older man, Jafaar, slipped and fell, and the huge tires missed him by inches. They didn't miss Khalil al-Khalil. The German spun the wheel, and it was easy to sideslip on the loose sand.

At first it seemed like he'd missed the Arab, as the man appeared to roll away down the slope. But then they saw his body was twisted at an awkward angle. The Oshkosh skidded to a stop, and Heinrich shunted it backward and forward to get it in the exact position. Then he started to roll back over the injured man. When the rear wheel rolled on top of him, he braked to a stop. The scream reached them, thin, high-pitched, and unearthly. They listened for almost a minute, and just when Talley had taken enough, the noise died away.

"Scratch one terrorist," Reynolds rumbled.

Vince diMosta was lying prone on the sand. He took his time, tested the wind, and finally squeezed the butt into his shoulder. Hasan Jafaar was almost two kilometers away when the whip crack report sounded across the desert floor. He seemed to leap into the air, then hit the sand and lay still.

"Scratch two terrorists," Roy murmured, "I reckon that's a clean sweep, Boss. Time to go home."

* * *

In the distance, Abu Abbas watched from the cab of a Toyota, which he'd managed to reach when the fight started to go bad. He knew they couldn't win, not when Bino's Iraqis went down to a hail of bullets from those men who had remained loyal to Captain Salim. That was when he slid away and climbed out of sight and into the truck.