Target Deck - 02 (32 page)

“Where is it?”

One of the windows suddenly shattered from the overpressure created by a nearby RPG blast. The stench of sulfur wafted through the humid night air.

“It is another concealed commo mast on the other end of the block.”

Deckard thought it over, they needed to break out and he wasn't going to split his platoon in half to take out one communications repeater. It would weaken his own forces without much of a gain in his opinion.

“Get Fedorchenko's men rolling. We're going to try to shoot our way out. Have them bump to our freq when they get close and we will join forces.”

“I'm on it,” Frank announced over the net.

The PKM and both riflemen at the entrance fired controlled bursts, the gunfire shaking dust from the ceiling. Another RPG slammed into the exterior wall, rattling the building to its foundation. Deckard was amazed that the concrete wall was still standing. He looked around at the chaos and at the bodies.

“Let's go,” he snapped. “Get that guy's leg bandaged, put a tourniquet above the wound and stop the bleeding then get that son of a bitch on the firing line to pull security!”

“You, you, and you,” he pointed to three of the PKM gunners still on their trucks. Their weapons were useless indoors. “Get up on the roof and prepare to move. You,” he pointed to the fourth gunner. “Dismount and orient that gun facing out that window.” The final gunner was left in place to watch the entrance.

“Zhenis,” he said keying his radio as he walked across the dusty floor. “Talk to me.”

“We are taking fire from all directions,” he said from up on the roof.

“Roger that, which way will get us out of here the fastest?”

“Back the way we came, but first we need to get that trailer out of the way”

Enemy gunfire continued to rain down on the aluminum shop while the mercenaries on the ground returned fire. Outside, Deckard could see the lifeless forms of several cartel gunmen laying in the street.

“Prepare the men for movement,” Deckard ordered the Platoon Sergeant. “I'm coming up.”

Cody stared at his computer screen, trying to work through the problem. Frank had taken off to go wake up Fedorchenko and send his platoon out as a Quick Reaction Force. That was when the OPCEN door burst open. Pat stood there holding the door by the frame.

“What's going on?”

“Deckard and Zhenis are pinned down inside the city. Our entire informant network has been compromised.”

“We need to get the other platoon rolling.”

“Frank is on it.”

Muffled gunfire could be heard outside, staccato bursts blazing away with a seconds pause between them. It was the perimeter guards up on the compound walls.

“We're getting hit,” Pat announced calmly. “They are hitting the walls.”

“FUCK.”

“Tell Deckard to do what he can, but we're going to have to fight off this attack before we can go in and get him out. I'm sure the enemy coordinated it this way, but there is nothing we can do about it now.”

Pat turned and ran outside as the gunfire continued unabated outside.

Cody turned back to his screen. Two and two came together and he figured out a work around for Deckard's problem. It was better than nothing.

Flipping through the various channels on Samruk communication's net, he began talking into his headset.

Aghassi pumped the car's brakes, tossing Nikita forward and waking him with a start as he slammed into the back of the passenger seat. He'd been dosing in the backseat since they pulled off target.

“Wake up fucker. We're not out of the briar patch yet.”

“What you want?”

“Fedorchenko's platoon is pinned down inside the city,” Aghassi informed him. “Just got the call out over the radio from Headquarters. We are being diverted to support them.”

Aghassi sped up, his headlights leading the way as he snaked around the wide turns on one of the main avenues of approach through Oaxaca City. The brightly colored single story homes meshed with old Colonial buildings and churches that stood silently in the night. Aghassi circled around the hilltop that ran into the middle of the city until they came to a large open air amphitheater. Running along the side, and up behind the theater was a paved road leading to the cell phone towers at the top of the hill.

The Samruk mercenary stopped the vehicle as the headlights stopped on a chain link fence gate that was closed across the road.

“The cartel is bringing in every shooter they can muster down on our boys,” Aghassi told Nikita as they climbed out of the car. “Cody wants us to disable that tower up there to help prevent the enemy from talking to each other and coordinating their actions.”

“So much for beer,” Nikita complained.

“No rest for the wicked,” Aghassi said as he popped the trunk and pulled out some tow straps. They had packed the car with recovery equipment ahead of their surveillance operation at Jimenez' compound. Running the straps up under the car and attaching them to the frame, the other ends were snap linked to the fence that was blocking their way. The locking gates of the snap links were facing up so that if they broke, the tow straps would snap down rather than up and smash the car's windshield.

Slowly backing up the car, Aghassi steadily increased the pressure on the gas pedal until the gate gave way and snapped open. Nikita quickly detached the straps and swung the gate the rest of the way open. The road wrapped around the hill as they drove up to the top and found the cell tower they were looking for. Aghassi shotgun parked before flipping off the lights and shutting the car down. Both carried their full equipment from the previous mission, but Aghassi added an AK-103 he had stashed in the car.

With their weapons held at the ready, the two mercenaries stood and looked out over Oaxaca City. From their vantage point they could see the entire panorama, lit up at night with golden pin pricks of artificial light. The night itself was hot and oppressive. Clouds of black smoke rose throughout the city obscuring their view. Gunfire rattled away, echoing from so many places that it was impossible to tell what direction the sound was coming from.

“Jesus,” Aghassi muttered as he rubbed a hand across the stubble on his chin. “I had heard about this Deckard guy before but he really knows how to find the prettiest parts of hell, doesn't he?”

“You get used to it,” Nikita said turning away.

Aghassi followed him to the tower where they both looked up at the various satellite dishes and microwave relay systems. It would take a lot of demo and a decent amount of time to rig it all in order to collapse the tower. They didn't have either.

“I can shoot them out like I did in Burma,” Nikita offered.

“In Burma?”

“Yeah, it did the job.”

“How about I just flip the power switch,” Aghassi said hooking a thumb towards the generator shed.

“Okay,” Nikita agreed.

Walking towards the tower, the Kazakh reached up and grabbed one of the metal cross members. Pulling himself up, he hooked a booted foot over the support structure and began climbing his way up.

“What the hell are you doing?” Aghassi shouted. Nikita was struggling to climb with his assault pack and HK 417 slung over his back. It made the intelligence operative nauseous to watch him as his uniform changed color and intensity as the Kazakh moved. It was like he was looking right through him sometimes.

“Those muzzle flashes to the East have to be Fedorchenko's platoon. You can hear the PKM fire. Get on the radio and make sure that Deckard has them turn on their IR strobes so I can mark their location. Once I get to the top I can offer fire support.”

“That is a hell of a long shot,” Aghassi said looking over his shoulder. “Are you sure?”

“Better than nothing. Shut down the power or my balls will get microwaved while I am in tower.”

“Yes, sir,” Aghassi said sarcastically.

As Nikita ascended the tower, he eventually found the ladder that had been retracted off the ground and locked in place. At least he could use it the rest of the way up. Aghassi went to work on the lock on the generator room. The massive fuel cell was outside sitting on a concrete foundation but the generator itself was under lock and key. It only took a few minutes with his lock picks before the cylinder turned and he was able to open the door. He picked a second padlock on the door to the console and opened it. Inside were a series of switches and one lever that controlled the master power distribution. Pushing it down resulted in the interior lights blinking out as well as shutting down the entire communications tower.

Back at the car, he dug into his assault pack where his tactical radio was located. A wire ran from the radio to a cable that ran up into the frame of the car through the glove compartment. Hidden in the roof of the vehicle was the satellite antenna itself. The low-visibility antenna was another piece of kit that Deckard had thoughtfully purchased with company funds and had flown in with the last shipment of supplies.

He turned the knob until he came to the channel for Fedorchenko's platoon assault net.

“This is Spooky-One,” he said into the handmic.

Someone answered in Russian, causing Aghassi to frown.

“Spooky, this is Six,” Deckard cut in. He could hear the rattle of gunfire across the net.

“We are in overwatch. Enemy comms are disabled. Break. Shooter-One is moving into position and requests that you turn on IR strobes prior to him going hot, over.”

“Roger that,” Deckard's voice sounded like sandpaper. “Glad to have you along for the ride.”

28

“Turn on your shoot-me lights!” Deckard ordered.

Outfitted for urban combat, each Samruk mercenary wore a plate carrier and a low-profile ballistic helmet that their
PVS-14
night vision goggles were attached to. They also had
infrared light strips
made by S&S Precision attached to their helmets. The V-lite was made out of a flexible strip that increased the visible area of the light that was Velcro'ed to the side of each team member's helmet. Squad leaders wore
Manta strobe
lights which flashed on and off and were even brighter. The infrared light was only visible under night vision goggles, a piece of kit that the enemy may have as well which was why they were usually turned off.