Hide and Seek (39 page)

ALIKI EASED FORWARD. WITH
all the lights off, the M84 would have been especially bright. He had no idea why J. J. hadn’t prepared himself for the bang and flash, but it had to be a good reason. He would ask later. If there was a later.

He, Nagano, and Pete moved closer to the area that moments ago was bathed in light. It was like approaching a cave known to be filled with angry bears. Aliki turned off his tac-light. If the baddies liked it dark, then so be it. He could work in the black as well as anyone.

When his light went, those of Pete and Nagano went out, as did those on the other end of the hall. Once, as a kid, his parents took the family to Carlsbad Caverns and paid for one of the tours. They reached a side cavern and the guide told everyone to be still; to be silent.

The lights went off. Dark was dark, black was black, but this was different. Separated from sunlight by over 700 feet of stone overhead, this black was palpable. Even breathing seemed more difficult. His heart skipped beats. Everything seemed amplified. He could hear the breathing of the other tourists. A moment later the guide turned the lights back on and Aliki saw relief on the faces of his family. Everyone beamed a smile.

He doubted he would see smiles if the lights came on again. He had no idea what he would see but it made him nervous. As in the caverns, his heart skipped beats. He strained his ears to hear the sounds of movement or breathing or the slide of a weapon being moved. All he could hear was the ringing in his ears that had been dogging him for the last month.

He stripped off his protective goggles and snapped his NGV to the front of his helmet. Black turned green as the light amplification electronics tried to arrange what little light there was into something useful.

He inched forward.

J. J. SHOOK HIS
head, trying to clear it of the buzzing. His vision was coming back faster than he expected, most likely because he slammed his eyelids shut once the M84 slipped from his hand. It didn’t help his ears, but it reduced the shock of the brilliant magnesium/ammonia sulfate light burst.

His head hurt, his legs felt rubbery, and his internal organs felt like they were on the verge of liquefying. It took a moment for him to realize the darkness around him was on the outside of his eyeballs. The lights were out. He reached for his night vision goggles.

He wobbled forward, still shaky from the flash-bang. It did to him what he wanted it to do to the hostiles. Maybe someday he would feel sorry for them, but not now. He had a team to lead.

He felt someone—Hawkeye?—switch off his tactical light. Fine with him. He had enough of bright lights for awhile.

Through the NVGs he saw Jose and Crispin ahead of him, moving along the hall as he had been doing. They stepped over the body of the man who tried to spread J. J.’s brains on the wall. He caught up to them in several short, but quick steps. His addled mind wandered for a moment.

Focus.

Tess. The twins—

He bit his tongue. The pain brought him back to the moment.

J. J. could see where the hall gave way to an open work area on the east side of the building. He hated this. Offices had too many doors, every one could conceal a heavily armed man. That was the thing about spec ops, they seldom got to choose the field of play; it was chosen for them.

Straightening, J. J. could see the other side of the hall. Aliki, Pete, and Nagano were moving into the area, guns pointed in the direction most likely to harbor killers.

WHAT WAS IT J. J.
called this? A true suicide mission? Aliki thought he was being overly dramatic. Maybe not.

He could see J. J.’s unit on the other side of the hall. He did a finger countdown. When he retracted the last finger, he stepped into the open area and knew the others were with him. Two men stood at the far wall, next to a set of windows.

Aliki raised his weapon—

Everything went from green to yellow as the lights in the area came on suddenly. The NVG which amplified low light did the same with bright light. Aliki couldn’t see.

Gunfire, loud, shots made by the two men.

Gunfire, muted, shots made by the team.

Aliki pulled the trigger and felt the M4 in his hand vibrate.

J. J. WAS THE
last into the room, one second after the lights came on, giving him that one second to snap up the NVG. He saw Aliki drop to his fanny, his weapon blazing. Nagano spun and let out a howl. All continued to return fire. J. J. entered the fray with hesitation. He flicked the trigger, aiming at the men who had the advantage of knowing the room—and better sight.

The room was filled with laboratory-style work tables that reminded J. J. of his days in high school chemistry. To the right was a wall of glass, or most likely, a wall of plastic. He didn’t have time to take in the details, just the impression of a storage area with a single door—a door standing open.

Rounds fired by his men shattered windows and punched holes in the ceiling. One of the shooters popped up from behind a lab table. He looked comfortable with a weapon, he looked angry, he looked like a man ready to die of a cause. He also saw something hanging from the man’s neck.

It took a second to process: the man was wearing a cylinder. A bomb? No—a canister, like the one described to him by Colonel Weidman.

“They’re wired,” J. J. shouted into the radio. “Fall back—”

Something small, but felt like a sledgehammer, hit his protective vest at the shoulder, spinning him. The round skipped past his ear. He snapped his gaze back to the gunmen. One rose again and found a bullet waiting for him. It caught him in the hollow of the throat. He stumbled back into the wall behind him. Several rounds hit the second man and he tumbled over.

“Cease fire. Cease fire.” J. J. scooted forward, his weapon aimed at one man’s head. Jose moved to the other. J. J. thought he was hearing something; something too indistinct to cut through the buzzing in his head.

Then he heard Jose swear. A glance showed Jose draw his Nimravus knife and cut the canister from the corpse of the attacker. “Out! Out! Move!”

J. J. stepped back as Jose sprinted past him and through the door to what J. J. earlier assumed was a storage area. Jose moved through the open door and slammed it shut.

J. J. REACHED FOR
the door, and the motion sent ripples through his shoulder where the bullet had glanced off the body armor. There was no penetration but the impact made his arm feel as if it were hanging by a thread.

“No!” Jose still held the canister, his hand over the nick caused by one of the scores of bullets flying through the lab area. “Get the men out of here, Boss. I don’t know how much of this junk leaked out.”

“I’m not leaving you.” J. J. pressed his hand to the plastic wall separating the storage area from the room in which the battle took place. Behind Jose, J. J. could see tables, two large, aquarium-like boxes with manipulator arms no doubt used to handle the really dangerous material—like the material seeping into Jose’s body.

“Yes, you are. You need to evac now.”

“We don’t leave men behind, Doc. You know that.”

Aliki stepped close. “All combatants confirmed dead, Boss.”

“Joker, get Boss and the others out of here. Do it now.” The medic’s voice was muted by the transparent security wall. Aliki cocked his head to the side. “What?”

“Boss, we got company.” Pete stood by the window looking at the street three stories below. “Got a mob moving in.”

“Armed?”

“Roger that.”

J. J. took two seconds to think. “Secure the stairwells. No one gets through the door. Clear?”

“Yes, Boss.” Pete and Crispin headed down one end of the hall; Nagano, after giving Aliki a slap on the shoulder, started down the other.

This mission started with all the elements necessary for complete failure. The conditions were still in place.

Jose pressed himself to the door. For a moment J. J. thought he was moving closer to be better heard, then he realized the obvious: Jose was blocking the door. “Boss, I appreciate what you’re doing, but if this stuff is as bad as I think it is, then I’m dead already. I died the moment I grabbed the canister. I-I . . .” He coughed. “I don’t know how much got out. I got to it right away, but . . . I just don’t know.” He grimaced as he removed his helmet and black balaclava.

“Doc, what is it?”

“Please. Leave. You gotta get the team out. Please, Boss. Don’t make me beg.”

For the first time since meeting Jose in Basic Training, he saw tears in the man’s eyes—eyes redder than tears could make them. His eyes were hemorrhaging. J. J. radioed Pete. “Junior, I need the SAT phone. Now.”

Pete emerged from the hall in dead run. “Here, Boss.”

“Get Colonel Weidman on the horn.”

A few moments later, Pete handed the phone to J. J. “Colonel, I need an evac team asap. I need a rescue team with chem suits. I have a man who’s been exposed.”

“Give me a sit rep.”

J. J. did, fighting back tears and anger.

“Expect a Chinook in ten, get your men to the roof. You’ll be making a SPIES evac.” The Special Purpose Infiltration and Exfiltration System sounded flashy but mostly it meant J. J. and team would soon be dangling beneath a massive helicopter. A definite thrill ride.

“Understood, sir.” He switched off the phone and handed it back to Pete.

“What did he say, Boss?”

“He was very specific. He said you and the others are to go to the roof. A helo is inbound.”

“Did the locals lift the no-overfly ban?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. Tell Joker to prepare the team for a SPIES lift.”

“Yes, Boss. Let’s go.”

“I’m staying here.”

Pete petrified in place. “Excuse me, Boss?”

“You heard me. Get out of here.”

“Not without you, Boss.” Pete set his jaw as if his words were the final comment on the matter.

“Junior . . . Pete, I’ve never known you to disobey an order. This is an order. Get your butt in gear.”

Pete hesitated. Started to turn. Stopped. Turned back to J. J. and opened his mouth, then shut it again. He keyed his radio. “Joker, Junior. Boss has ordered us to the roof for exfil.”

“Roger that.”

Pete walked away from J. J. looking as if his boots had turned to concrete.

“Please, Boss, please go. The longer you stay in this room the greater the danger to you.”

“Yeah, I figured that.” J. J. looked into his friend’s face and saw the faces of Jose’s wife, Lucy, and the faces of each of his four children.

He touched the wall then leaned his head against it. “I’m so sorry, Jose. I’m so, so, sorry. This isn’t right. You sacrificed yourself for the team, for me.”

Jose chuckled weakly. “I always wanted to go out by falling on a hand grenade. I guess this is close enough.”

When J. J. looked up, he saw blood running from Jose’s eyes and nose. He also saw blisters the size of dimes forming on his face and growing as J. J. watched. “There’s got to be something in your med kit.”

Jose shook his head. Coughed. Leaned against the door, this time for support. “Not . . . for this. I didn’t . . . pack for chem warfare, just for your usual . . . gun battle and bombs.” He slid down the wall until he was seated.