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“…renegade army elements have overthrown the central government. This has led to a massive refugee crisis, with many citizens attempting to leave the country. Representatives from neighboring countries…”
“…analysts believe that the most to lose are Western business interests that have invested hundreds of millions if not billions on oil infrastructure in the country…”
“…fighting continues throughout the country as the army attempts to consolidate control of their control…”
John Noble was listening to the reports coming through the world’s news services. Everyone who keeps the television dial on a news network gets used to the constant minute by minute update about the crisis of the day, about the current war of the moment. To most of those people the news didn’t really matter, it was happening to other people in a country whose name you can’t pronounce. It was something else to listen to these reports while you were in the country being talked about.
“What are they saying?” Luc Phillipe asked. He had just come in from the mess tent. He removed the red beret that he had kept from his old army days.
Noble looked up, his brow arched, “Nothing we don’t already know. Most of these reports are being filed from outside the country. The army’s put into place a nationwide news blackout. No one knows what’s really going on.”
“Sir,” one of the men manning communications interrupted. “I have X-Ray Three on the line again.”
Luc took the mike, “This is Six here, what do you have?”
“We saw a number of trucks moving up the bridge headed in X-Ray’s direction,” Walker said over the static free line. “At least two vehicles of type BTR or BMP among the convoy.
“How many trucks?”
“We couldn’t a good enough view, we’re moving too fast to check. We have two criticals on board. ETA under five minutes. Is the medical team ready for us?”
“Medics will be there,” Luc answered, “Six out.” He turned to Noble, “Did you hear anything about a convoy coming this way?”
“No, they must be under radio silence. Their trying to be sneaky about it.”
Luc thought about it a little, “They could get here in thirty minutes.”
“Well they will probably take some time to set up. Depends on how they want to go about it.” Noble said. The Australian looked at the clock hanging on the wall. “When is our transport supposed to be here?”
“Dawn,” Luc replied. A company transport plane was scheduled to land at a rough landing strip roughly half a mile west of the camp. Hopefully the army wouldn’t be able to secure any fighter aircraft by then. “Get everyone except the medics here now.”
Noble nodded and left the command center.
Burke stepped out of his chopper and put the helmet on his seat. Running one hand through his matted hair he fished for his pack of Luckies. He offered it to Arkady Filitov who took one cigarette. The Russian used his lighter before helping the pilot with his.
“We’re not out of this yet,” said Burke as he took a pull.
“Of course not,” Filitov replied. He looked around, noting the hills to the east and to the west of the compound. “They are going to send a lot more men to attack us here. They did send a hundred men against three before.”
“Yeah and they have some armor too.”
Marc walked towards them. He saw the long sniper rifle strapped to Filitov’s back and patted him on the shoulder. “You must be the guy who saved my life over there,” he said, extending his hand. “I owe you one.”
The Russian shook it, “Do not worry, you will have many chances to return the favor soon enough. Oh, the name is Arkady Filitov.”
“Marc Anderton.”
“John Burke.”
Interrupting them Walker came back outside, “You guys better get in here.”
The situation in Forward Operating Site X-Ray was chaotic at best. Tall flood lights illuminated the entire enclosure. Groups of men were going in and out of the supply hut, entering empty and exiting armed. Three men carrying a crate of claymores and explosives walked past them. Empty boxes of ammunition were strewn around. A couple guys saw them come in and nodded in their direction before going back to work lifting mortar rounds. Most of the men were laying up in trenches and behind berms inside the outer perimeter.
The command center was different, it was calm like the eye of the storm. Looking at the maps with four men standing around him, Luc Phillipe whispered instructions. They were the crew members of the Mi-17 outside.
“You will orbit around X-Ray until you come into contact. You will then radio in and tell us the composition of the enemy force. You are cleared to fire but don’t put yourselves into too much danger. If you receive too much damage, attempt to land near the landing strip and hold out there until the transport arrives. Understood?” The men nodded and he sent them off.
Walker walked up to the Frenchman, “Sir we just got back. Where do you need us?”
“Good job out there.” Phillipe looked at Marc, “You are the new man?” They shook hands. “Load up on as many weapons that you can. Take as much ammunition as you need, we are not going to be taking any with us when we leave.” Looking at the pilots, “Set thermite charges in your helicopter, it is of no use to us anymore.” Turning to Filitov, “I heard you did well out there?”
“I did the best I could,” the Russian replied.
Pointing at the map Luc said, “Your duty is not yet at an end. Everyone knows that the strength of the sniper lies in his ability to sow discord amongst the enemy. I will need you to set up on the hills to the west, between the compound and the landing strip and do your work from there.”
“No,” Filitov said, walking up to the map. He talked in unaccented English, “The hills to the east will offer me better locations from which to fire upon the enemy. I can do much better work from there.”
“But that would put you further away from the landing strip.”
“I will travel light. Back in the army I was known for my quick movements. As soon as I see the sun begin to rise in the east I will make my way to the extraction point.”
Luc thought for a second. He somehow didn’t trust the man’s judgment, but he was volunteering and he was probably right about what he would be able to accomplish. “Agreed, then I need you to go now.”
“Of course,” Filitov replied. Before he left he looked around the room, “But in case the enemy decides to send men to deal with me I would need at least one man to defend my flanks.”
Before the Frenchman could say anything, Marc spoke up, “I’ll volunteer. I’m ready to go.” Marc exchanged glances with Filitov who nodded.
Luc agreed, he didn’t have time for this, “Alright get your weapons and head out. Pick up a Motorola handset before you leave. We are expecting at attack in approximately thirty minutes from now. So be quick.”
Marc and Filitov said their goodbyes to Luc and the two pilots. As they left Burke whistled and tossed his pack of Lucky Strikes to Filitov, he then looked to Phillipe. “I take it we’re going to hold out here till dawn.”
“Yes. Long-range communications are being jammed so our bosses are out of reach. We are going to have to weather this storm.”
Outside Marc and Filitov entered the supply hut to take their weapons. On the walls in racks were guns, guns, and more guns. The sniper removed the armor plates from the front and back of his vest. “We are going to be needing speed for what I have in mind. You can leave your plates in, but I intend to be moving a lot.”
Filitov kept the SR-25 semiautomatic sniper rifle that he had been using. He attached a night sight to the front of the scope. Loading one into the chamber, he also took out five twenty-round clips. For a backup weapon he selected an Israeli-made CTAR-21 bullpup assault rifle. He snapped on a Trijicon ACOG scope and picked up six clips, inserting one into the weapon He slung it across his back. As a sidearm he equipped himself with a Sig Sauer P226 chambered for the .357 Sig, inserting a clip he took out another two. Two M67 fragmentation grenades finished his arsenal.
Seeing as how he was going to support and cover Filitov’s flanks Marc picked up a different selection. He took off his Interceptor vest as it was damaged and put on a new one, inserting only the front plate. As his primary weapon he selected an H&K MG36 light machine gun. He attached a Beta C-Mag, a hundred-round drum magazine. He took two more of those. As a secondary he equipped himself with an MP7A1 submachine gun that fired the propriety 4.6x30mm round with five forty-round clips and an attached red dot sight. For a pistol he picked up the same loadout as Filitov. Walking towards the explosives Marc took out a bandolier and stuffed it with three M67 grenades and five M18A1 claymore mines. He didn’t want to make the mistake of going in with too little firepower like the last time.
“You ready?” Filitov asked. They were both now walking armories.
“I don’t think I can carry anything else,” Marc replied, nodding. He clipped on a set of night vision goggles to his Kevlar helmet.
They stopped by the mess tent and stocked up on water, Marc splashed some water on to his face before picking up a couple of candy bars. They left the compound through the entrance in the motor pool. The other humvee was now in working condition but didn’t look like it was being readied for use. As soon as the doors closed behind them they entered the darkness. Filitov took the lead and moved to the hills in a half run.
They orbited for another five minutes. All the sectors remained the same except for the south. The pilot saw a few sets of headlights in the distance. They were still too far for him to make out any clear shapes. “Convoy detected at range, moving closer,” the pilot said. His mike was keyed to the other men on the chopper and to the command center in X-Ray. He increased altitude and headed towards the enemy convoy. He and the co-pilot made out one BMP type armored vehicle in the lead. It was followed by three seven-ton trucks. Behind those was a BTR personnel carrier. Three more trucks beyond that. Perhaps more further behind. The pilot relayed that information back to X-Ray.
“X-Ray Four, are they aware of your presence?” Noble asked over the radio.
“Negative, Six,” the pilot responded.
“Muzzle flashes,” the starboard crew chief reported. The turret of the BTR wheeled personnel carrier was tracking the helicopter. The DShK 12.7mm heavy machinegun opened fire. Rounds tore into the helicopter, punching holes through the cabin.
“Taking fire,” the co-pilot said, the pilot pulled hard on the stick. The portside crew chief leaned out and depressed the trigger on his M240 belt-fed machinegun. The rounds harmlessly bounced off the armor of the BTR but the chopper soon passed by it, making some distance. The other crew chief fired down into the bed of one seven-ton truck, tearing into the light fabric cover.
The helicopter started to turn back for another run. Soldiers piled out of the shot-up truck, one of them was carrying a different weapon than the others. The other men fired at the attacking aircraft with their Kalashnikovs.
The crew chief on the right-hand side held down the trigger of his M240, perforating the cab of the truck killing the driver. One man on the ground with an RPK was torn to pieces by the 7.62mm rounds while others ducked to avoid the fire. The other gunner on the chopper blasted the top of the BTR, killing an exposed crew member. The heavy machinegun on the BTR fired up at the aircraft. Most of the rounds missed completely, but a few hit one of the two engines under the rotor blades. The chopper shuddered violently before the pilot wrestled it back under his control.
The soldier got up from the ground and retrieved his weapon. It was a SA-7 Grail man-portable surface to air missile. He hefted it onto his shoulder and looked through its sights. The helicopter pulled up and started moving northwards, trailing a plume of smoke. Holding the aircraft in his sights, the soldier tracked it before he heard the tone as the weapon locked onto the heat source of the damaged engine. Flicking the safety off, he launched the missile.
The chopper had no chance. The missile left the launcher at a speed of five hundred and eighty miles per second. It arched up into the night sky and hit right in the middle of the aircraft, in between the rotor blades and the cabin. The explosion blew the helicopter into dozens of pieces. The fireball could be seen for miles around.
“They sure have. How do you think they’re going to do it,” Marc asked, taking a sip of water. They both started moving at a fast walk in the brush of a hill. It was a good vantage point down into the valley. Filitov was in the lead despite him not having any NVGs the moonlight was enough for him.
“I think they will disembark from their vehicles a distance away from the base. Perhaps set up a few mortar positions and bombard X-Ray. Have their armor in the lead to blow down the walls. Infantry rushes the openings. That’s how I would do it.”
“You know for a Russian you have a really good grasp of English.”
Filitov stopped, “You think Russian’s cannot speak proper English?”
“No, I’m just saying that you sound as if you’ve had some formal training.”
The Russian continued walking, “I’ve received some training from the intelligence services. It came in useful for foreign operations and later taking jobs for anyone willing to pay.”
“So you’ve done some wetwork.”
“On occasion. I’ve killed a lot of people, not just tonight.” He raised his hand, “This will be our primary fallback position. Remember this place.” There was a copse of trees right behind them. “If we get separated we will regroup here.” He continued walking.
“What’s the plan?” Marc asked.
“The plan is I set up on the crest of the hill after this. To my south you will set up your explosives and wait for an enemy unit that will try to flank us from there. They won’t come from the north because it is too steep here. Once the numbers become too grave or they begin firing mortars, we fall back to the primary and do our best to hold them there.”
“Sounds like we’re going to be killing a lot more people tonight.”
“I believe so.”
