Alex muttered, “Well, good thing none of us are Muslim.”
Another burst from the building made him duck and flinch. Whoever was up there was a respectable operator.
Next to him, one of the soldiers, looking inordinately mean for someone wearing neon colors, shouted, “If I had my grenade launcher, that asshole would not be a problem!”
“Noted,” was all Alex could say. “Jason, paint it, all troops, fire on his mark.”
Jason stood, snap shot and continued. Puffs indicated bullets cracking on the extruded concrete. Four others joined in, along with Highland, and two of the troops had apparently completely disregarded the order and brought carbines from their gear. Jason shrugged, capped off ten quick shots, raised a hand and shouted, “ Cease fire! ” He tapped Cady, then Shaman, and the code propagated out. In two seconds, the mercenaries moved with Highland secure in the middle, and the troops tapered off fire and fell in behind.
Rowe said, “I have two light casualties, detailing two to drop out with them and follow, or shelter in a building.”
Alex said, “Noted. Aramis, tag it.”
“Marked.”
“We’ll have someone sent, too.”
He wasn’t sure if anyone had hit the gunner, but the volume of fire seemed to have chilled his ardor. Nothing further came from there.
They crossed another street. The thoroughfare they followed tangled up after the gunfight. Cross traffic came in
Bart swore in German.
“Talk to me.”
“ Hurrensohne springbladers. Two. Forward left forward high.”
He looked forward and slightly left, on roofs. Yes, there they were.
Highland said, “They’re supposed to be called off! He lied again!”
“Keep going,” Alex ordered at once. “Move now, talk later. Ma’am, I think it’s a last gasp attempt. If they kill you, they deny it and blame anyone they wish. If they don’t, they meet as planned. With churps reporting you’re about to meet with rescue, they can’t openly drop you.”
A flash and a dot turned into a woosh, into an incoming mini missile.
“Scatter!” he shouted and dove to cover Highland, along with Lionel and Aramis.
He realized his ears were ringing and that blast had been all concussion, not far away. His vision was blurry, his ears numb and his body tingled.
“Track them,” he mumbled. “What do we have?”
“Casualties,” someone replied, sounding tinny.
“Elke, Jason, Bart, someone…”
“On your feet, Alex,” Shaman said. He felt a sting that turned into coolness trickling through his neck. His brain thrummed, his skin burned, but he resumed functionality.
“Let’s move fast,” he said.
Rowe said, “Chief Marlow, we have several casualties.”
He looked around and saw Rowe referred to the troops specifically. Several had taken frag or been slammed by percussion.
“Elke, cut them a door.”
She snagged a charge, slapped it on a doorplate, rolled aside and thumbed her detonator.
It was a small charge, but after the previous one had shaken him up, it still hurt. However, they had an open building of some kind in which to shelter.
“Good luck,” he said. “We’re moving. Help Witch.”
A moment later he said, “Oh, and Jessie.”
Yeah, the young woman was holding up well. And at least the publicity paid off in the end. So far.
“Where’d the son of a bitch go?” he asked.
Aramis said, “Unknown. They headed south and kept going.”
“They’ll be back. What do we have for long range?”
Jason said, “I can possibly make three hundred meters.”
“Do it if you can. Hostile to be shot on sight.”
“Will do, and I’ll call for volley fire.”
“Right, can’t hurt.”
He thumbed his phone and said, “Last contact.”
The connection beeped and at once he heard, “This is Machac.” The man still sounded cultured and unhurried.
“We’re going to meet at the Garden Bazaar, three klicks north of our recent location.”
“I know where that is.”
“Well, there are still two guys on the springblades. You don’t know who’s behind that yet, do you?”
“Not at all. Do you want us to meet you sooner?”
“The bazaar will be fine. We’re five minutes out.”
He disconnected without waiting for a response.
He wasn’t the only one staggering, but Highland seemed reasonably stable, so they’d done their job properly. Could they finish up now?
“Elke, how are you set on smoke?”
She counted by touch. “A couple of minutes’ worth.”
“Can you hold one as we travel?”
“Make us an area target instead of points? Hold on.”
She fumbled with something, pulled out a bandage and started wrapping it around a smoke grenade.
“It’s going to catch on fire, but I can hold it for the duration.”
“Pop it. Contact movement. Ms. Highland, grab onto Bart’s harness. Let’s move.”
Elke pointed Aramis to the front, with Lionel, then took the number three position. Alex followed her, then Bart and Highland. The others gripped off the sides and back.
Following a concussion with lungfuls of ammoniac smoke was not the best thing for either health or concentration, but with the group clutching into a chain, they could move well enough. But were they concealed from outside, or just blocking their own vision?
“Time to waste the flashbangs!” he called. “As interruptions.” He let his carbine hang while he reached into a pouch and pulled his free. He strained his thumb forcing the cap loose, then caught the lanyard in his teeth, yanked and tossed it to the right. “Every ten or fifteen seconds, and fire in the-” BANG!
His ear got punched again and the smoke eddied in ripples around him.
Off to the side, Jason said, “Contact airborne! Right forward forward high!”
Elke shouted, “Take this!” and shoved her shotgun over. Jason fired his, dropped his, took hers and raised it.
Alex had his own up, saw the figure, shouted, “All fire!” and started shooting. Maybe enough bullets in the air would get lucky.
The figure leapt across a building roof, about fifteen meters up. He did have to acknowledge that was one hell of a brave way to travel, and not something that would catch on generally.
Whoever the guy was, he seemed to be raising some other weapon, and relying on speed, angle and altitude for protection, along with distortion effects and armor. He was probably pretty safe, unless..
Whatever Elke had loaded, Jason fired. Shotgun. It must be one of her tungsten bore-riders, that would breach almost anything. The recoil staggered Jason back, but the shot hit. Their antagonist tumbled and twisted, the impact disturbing his trajectory enough, and tossing his leg off line. Instead of landing, he cartwheeled across the roof, over the edge and landed with a cracking thud a few meters ahead.
Cady and Lionel dropped out of formation, sprinted hard, caught up and stomped on him. They pinned and twisted his arms, Cady reached down with a pistol, and put a round in the crease between his body armor and helmet, right through the cervical spine. He convulsed twice and stopped.
From the front, Aramis said, “Through that alley will put us right in the bazaar.”
