The Fate Of Nations: F.I.R.E. Team Alpha: Book One (11 page)

              “Get ready,” Carter ordered. “Three…two…one,” he counted.

              Roth, Burgett, and DeFontain burst around the corner and destroyed the light fixtures near the barricade; sending the corridor into total blackness. Protected by that blackness, Carter moved quickly to within six feet of the hostage holding guards. Aiming carefully while still moving; he shot each guard in the face just below the nose. His armor piercing bullets plowed through their teeth and the back of their heads; destroying their brain stems and making tennis ball-sized holes as they exited.

              With the guards dead, Carter holstered his sidearm activated the small flashlight that was built into his rifle’s fore-grip. He spoke to the prisoners in French. “Follow us,” he told them.

              The flashlights from the rest of the Alpha operators pierced the darkness and they gathered around Carter. “Let’s go.”

              In minutes they were looking down on the prison compound from the exit hole made by the Cheyenne. One of the Mohawks was waiting for them just above the ground while the Cheyenne hovered protectively nearby. The ground was littered with dead prisoners and guards. The buildings were still on fire and gunfire could be heard on all sides.

              Carter activated his radio. “Machine Head one-zero, this is
Prowler
, I’m coming out with six.”

              Without warning her, he took the teenage girl in his arms and leapt the thirty feet to the ground. Burgett followed suit with another prisoner. Roth and Defontain brought down the third. Carter turned to the prisoners.

              “You can’t come with us,” he shouted over the thunder of the helicopter’s rotors and battle sounds. “But we’ll cover you to the fence.” The girl hugged him and ran toward the fence. The team watched the rescued prisoners until they were through the fence and away. Roth, Defontain, and Burgett then boarded the waiting Mohawk.

              Carter looked to the prison’s roof and saw the second Mohawk. It was taking off from the prison’s roof. It took to a hover near the Cheyenne. “Harvard from Prowler,” Carter said into his radio. “Report status.”

              William’s voice came through Carter’s speaker. “Harvard has the package and is ready for egress. All accounted for with no casualties.”

              “Very well,” Carter replied. Assured that his mission was accomplished and each team member was accounted for, Carter boarded the Mohawk himself. The three helicopters sped away from the compound at tree top level. Leaving the prison compound in flames, they turned to rendezvous with another Phantom class submarine for the journey home.

                         [][][]

                                         
Chapter Two

    United States forward operating base near
Reykjavík,
Iceland

               10, April 2104

              The prop-wash from the helicopters joined with the wind coming off of the ocean and combined to make it difficult for Hicks to move forward. Even in the spring the early morning wind was cold this far to the north. He could feel the noise of the turbine driven rotors vibrate through his body. The smell of aviation fuel was thick in the air. Helicopters and troops were coming and going and technicians were all about maintaining the dozens of aircraft operating from the airfield. The new base was a hive of activity, and it was growing. It felt good.

              Hicks watched as Team Alpha exited their aircraft and Carter handed Mertens off to a group of waiting medics and intelligence officers. Carter waited for the team to gather around him, shook hands with each member in turn and the led them away from the landing area. This was a mission ending custom that he always followed with all of the units he commanded. They began each mission as a unit, and ended each mission as a unit. Hicks was proud as he watched Carter and his team approach; each laden with packs and weapons.

              Carter gave Hicks a salute. “Hello, Sir,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here. It’s good of you to meet us.”

              Hicks returned the salute. “Welcome back, Team Alpha. You all did one hell of a job on this mission. You made history.”

              “Thank you, Sir,” Carter answered.

              “We’ve got quarters for all of you for the night,” Hicks said as a truck arrived to transport the team.”Then we’re all on a plane for Fort Reagan at zero-seven hundred.”

              “We’re going to Reagan Sir; not back to Adak?” Carter asked.

              Hicks shook his head. “No, the boys in Alaska will have to do without you. You’re heading back to Reagan.”

              “Yes Sir,” Carter consented.

              Hicks saw the curiosity on Carter’s face. “I know you’ve heard about the offensive going on in Alaska right now. I know that you all want to be part of hammer-punching the enemy the rest of the way off the North American continent, but we have another job for you and you’ll need to be at Reagan to tool up for that.” Hicks stepped closer to Carter. “I want you come to the headquarters building with me for minute, Doug.”

              Carter nodded, “Very well, Sir." He turned to Williams. “Get everyone billeted and run a weapons and equipment check.”

              “At once,” Williams said. The team was already loading their gear into a truck that had just arrived to take them to their quarters. Carter fell into step at Hick’s side. The pair walked across the open space of the airfield toward base headquarters.

              Hicks smiled slightly. “Were weapons and equipment checks really necessary for a bunch of go-getters like your team?”

              “Not really,” Carter responded. “They don’t really need a lot of supervision. I just do checks and inspections every once in a while so they know that I still give a shit. I’ve seen good units fall apart because their leaders get complacent and stop paying attention to detail. The team might bitch and moan a little, but it would be worse if they started to think I’d lost interest.”

              “I get it Doug; a nagging parent is better than one who doesn’t pay attention,” Hicks said.

              Carter smiled slightly. “That’s not the analogy I would have used, Sir; but it works.”

              The two guards at the headquarters’ doorway snapped Hicks and Carter salutes as they entered. After presenting their credentials at two checkpoints, Hicks unlocked the door to a small office. Carter observed that the room was in a state of ordered chaos that was typical of those that the General had occupied in the past.

              Papers, folders, and envelopes were stacked not only on the desk, but on three folding tables as well. A large world map dominated the wall opposite the doorway. Next to it was a smaller but more detailed map of the western European coast from Denmark to the southern tip of the Iberian Peninsula. On the wall to his left Carter saw other maps detailing particular parts of the European coast.

              “Have a seat,” Hicks said. Carter removed the rucksack from his back, put the floor beside him, and lowered himself into a chair in front of the desk. Hicks smiled when he noticed that Carter carefully leaning his rifle against the wall next to his chair, keeping it within easy reach out of years of habit.

              Hicks smiled again when he saw Carter’s scrutiny of the maps. “Alright, Doug; I can see the wheels turning in your head. You’ll get the word about any upcoming operations in Europe soon enough. Meanwhile, see what you can do with this.” Hicks handed Carter an inch-thick file binder.

              Carter flipped through it for a few seconds, “A target folder for a theoretical operation,” Carters observed.

              Hicks nodded. “Take tonight to read it and give me a generalized plan for the FIRE teams to attack and destroy the targets in detail. I don’t need a fully detailed action plan; just a general assessment of feasibility and a rough idea of tactical and logistical needs.”

              “Using all six of the teams Sir?” Carter asked; unable to keep the uncertainty out of his voice.

              “Yes,” Hicks said. “I think you’ll find that you’d need all six teams to take on those targets if they were real. You and I can talk about it on the flight to Reagan, but keep it to yourself for now. Don’t take any written notes, give me a verbal report.”

              “Yes, Sir,” Carter obeyed.

              A slight smile came to Hick’s face. “I know you’ll be a thorough as you possibly can, Doug. Even though the mission in that file is theoretical, your opinion of it will influence the real world; I promise you.”

              Carter slipped the file into a pocket on his rucksack “I’ll do my best, Sir.”

               [][][]             

              Hicks was relieved when the young airman slid the plane’s hatch shut and blocked out the chilling morning wind. Now that he was on board he heard the plane’s already running engines shift from the low, vibrating rumble of idling to a shrill whine as the aircraft began to taxi. Team Alpha rose to attention in unison to greet him.

              “As you were,” he said. “Good morning troopers,” he added.

              Carter spoke for the team. “Good morning, Sir.”

              “Did you all get everything you needed last night?” He asked.

              “Soft beds and hot chow are heaven for the infantry, General,” McNamara responded. “And the new uniforms are just spoiling us.”

              “You all look sharp,” Hicks observed looking over the new black and grey uniforms issued to members of the Paranormal Army Corps. Black trousers were worn with a gray shirt, maroon tie and a black tunic. A maroon lanyard was worn attached to the tunic’s left epaulet. The lanyard was worn in tribute to the hundreds of soldiers who had died during the para-gene activation process. “Enjoy the ride home troops.”

              Hicks turned to face Carter. “Doug, come up front with me.”

              “The team seems to be in good shape,” Hicks said, as he led Carter into a small office in the plane’s forward section.

              “We are Sir,” Carter agreed. “Roast chicken for dinner last night, and steak and eggs for breakfast this morning, new uniforms, and luxury ride home will always do wonders for moral after nearly a month penned up in a sub with nothing to do but mission debriefing and P.T. We expected to be making the trip home in old cargo plane with no heat; not in the latest generation Lear jet. You Generals know how to live.”

              “This is faster than a cargo plane, and we want the teams well rested as possible,” Hicks explained. He gestured to a chair in front of a small desk. The two men buckled in as the aircraft gathered speed for takeoff. Once in the air it was joined by four escorting F-51A2 fighters.

              Carter regarded the fighter escorts through a small porthole until the electronic camouflage generators on their skins made them all but invisible. “Four escorts Sir?” he inquired. “I thought we had air superiority between Iceland and the east coast?”

              “We do,” Hicks said. “But, right now, your team is too important to risk losing to a lack of caution.”

              Carter tilted his head. “What makes us so indispensible?”

              Hicks grinned slyly. “I’ll explain later.”  The conversation was dominated by the mundane for the next several minutes.

              “Alright; we should be out range for any listening devices now. That’s one advantage to not having satellites in orbit any more. With nothing up there to bounce signals off of, a bug’s signal can’t have too much range.”

              Carter nodded. “Yes, Sir; it was nice to have satellite communication on operations, though. But the first thing both sides did when the war started was take the other side’s satellites.”

              Hicks chuckled. “Yeah, now when we send up a satellite to support an operation we’re lucky if it’s up there for three hours before it’s taken out. Only the Corporate Consortium has reliable sat-com, and no one trusts them with military communication.”

              “So what are we going to talk about that the enemy might want to listen to, Sir.” Carter asked.

              Hicks leaned forward. “What did you think of that target folder? Could the teams take out those targets in the real world?”

              Carter’s posture stiffened. “Yes, Sir,” he answered. “But it would be expensive in terms of casualties.”

              “How expensive?” Hicks pressed.

              “I estimate between forty and sixty percent casualties among the teams. The extraction package would probably get torn up pretty badly as well.”

              Hicks frowned. “What’s the thinking behind that estimate?”

              Carter leaned toward Hicks. “The intelligence says that there are two targets: the primary target is large central communications complex in the center of a large enemy city, the secondary is a backup facility in a mountain bunker hundreds of miles from the primary facility. I allocated four teams for the primary target and two for the secondary.”