Dead Six

“My eye!” Walker screamed. “He put out my eye!”

The cuff clicked loose and I ripped my damaged hand out, leaving a lot of skin behind. I crossed the cell, reaching up and swatting the lone light bulb, shattering it and plunging us all into darkness. They never saw me coming.

I kicked Conrad’s ankle out from under him. The bone splintered and he toppled down to my level, where I ridge-handed him brutally in the throat. Conrad choked, gagging, still confused as to how I got all the way over here. I grabbed him by the hair and slammed his face into my knee, knocking half his teeth out. He was down.

Walker was groping about, searching for his gun. They’d left them on the table by the door. He found the table just as I found him. My arm slid around his throat, injured left hand putting pressure on the side of his head as I cranked back, taking us both to the ground. He thrashed, kicked, elbowed me in the side, but once I’d cut the flow of oxygen off to his brain, he was out in ten seconds. The elbow hits got weaker and weaker, then finally stopped. When I was convinced the struggle was over, I rolled his unconscious form off.

Gasping, I struggled to my feet. There were flashes of light coming through the narrow windows. A high- pitched whistle terminated in a explosion against one of the walls. The compound was under attack. I had to get the hell out of here. I ran my good hand over the dark table until I found what I’d come here for. The box went into one pants pocket, radio into the other. I kept Walker’s gun.

The two men were groaning, stirring. I could have just put a bullet into both of them, but I might need the ammo. I booted Conrad in the head once more to be safe, then rolled Walker over, stripping him of two spare magazines. Blood flow restored, the man was starting to come to.

Being an asshole, I just couldn’t help myself. Squatting down, I grabbed all the fingers on Walker’s right hand. “Wake up.” Then I cranked them back so brutally hard that they touched his wrist, breaking every one of them so fiercely that the skin of his palm split open. He sat up, screaming, so I smashed him in the face with his own gun.

It was time to go.

VALENTINE

Fort Saradia was in utter chaos as mortars rained down on us. I left the relative safety of the stone archway that led to the docks and ran into the open, desperate to find Sarah. She was probably either in the admin building or the old brig, where theytaken Lorenzo.

The admin building was easier to get to, and it was where Hunter’s office was, so I started there. Hearing the screams of more incoming shells, I huddled by the wall of the closest building and covered my head. Two big military trucks, wearing Zubaran Army markings, were parked by the north wall of the supply building. Those trucks had been sitting in the compound since day one, but we hadn’t used them. I hoped they’d protect me from fragmentation.

Five more mortars exploded in the compound. The first one didn’t hit anything. The second struck the admin building. The third hit the dormitory building and destroyed several rooms on the top floor. The fourth hit the big gas tank directly west of my position. Hot wind blew across my back as the fuel tank erupted in a huge fireball and burned. I didn’t see where the last mortar hit, but it was close. The barrage ended. An assault was coming, and we were undoubtedly outnumbered. Through the torrential downpour, I saw the survivors from the docks running back into the compound, toward my position, as they prepared to make a stand.

I had my own mission, though. Clenching my MK 17, I took off at a run again, rounding the east corner of the supply warehouse. One of the shells had struck the ground right next to the building, making a small crater and collapsing part of the wall. I didn’t stop to see if anyone was hurt inside. I jumped over the crater and continued running.

A loud crash echoed across the compound. I stopped and took cover. A French-built Leclerc tank smashed through the front gate, busting the heavy metal doors open. The turret had been turned around to keep from damaging the barrel. As it cleared the gate, it began to swing its gun around, looking for a target.

A few seconds later, a Javelin missile shrieked down onto the tank and slammed into the top of the turret. The missile hit with a loud metallic BANG, sounding like someone hitting a metal plate with a sledgehammer. The tank rumbled to a stop just inside the gate, burning. Brilliant flames shot out from under the turret as the ammunition inside cooked off and burned.

The destroyed tank effectively blocked other vehicles from entering the gate, but that didn’t stop the onslaught. Armed troops began pouring into the compound, coming around the tank on both sides. They were a mix of Zubaran Army regulars, with their desert-camouflage uniforms and helmets, and irregular militia, who wore black fatigues and masks over their faces.

Holy shit. There’s a lot of ‘em. I backed up and dove into the mortar crater and used it for cover. I acquired a target through my ACOG scope, a militiaman with an RPG, and popped off a shot. He dropped to the muddy ground. I shifted my carbine to the right and fired three shots at another cluster of soldiers, Zubaran regulars. One went down, but the others took cover behind the tank.

They just kept coming. To my left, my teammates had gotten a couple of machine guns set up. They tore into the soldiers as they filed in past the tank, but the enemy was relentless. I fired continuously, pausing only to change magazines. I don’t know how many I hit. More than a dozen Dead Six operatives were all firing into the same enemy position, mowing down the Zubaran soldiers, but there were too many of them. Rounds began to strike the dirt around my little crater, and the wall behind me. I suddenly felt very vulnerable. Taking a chance, I came to my feet and ran for the admin building, bullets snapping past me as I went. I hugged the wall, hoping the hostiles wouldn’t see me through the rain.

Thunder clapped overhead, barely audible over the roar of the battle as I reached the admin building. My heart sank when I saw the damage. A mortar had struck the roof, partially caving in the second floor. Hunter’s office was on the second floor. Oh God, no . . .

My Calm began to fail. I was nearly in a panic. I busted the ground-level door open and entered the building, heading for the stairs.

“Sarah!” I shouted, hoping she would hear me. It was dark inside. The impact had knocked out the main lights. The emergency lights had kicked on, but they didn’t provide much illumination. I switched on my weapon light as I vaulted up the stairs two at a time. “Sarah!”

I made it to the second floor and shined my light down the hallway. The roof had caved in at the far end of the hall where Conrad’s office was. A small fire burned within, and the hall was quickly filling with smoke. Hunter’s office was closer. The door had been knocked off the hinges, and the ceiling was cracked all the way down the hall, but the roof hadn’t caved in yet. The old building’s solid construction was the only reason it had been able to withstand two direct mortar hits.

“Sarah!” I shouted, growing desperate.

“Here!” Sarah replied, her voice resonating through the low-pitched roar of the battle outside.

“Sarah, where are you?” I shouted, running into the hall.

“I’m—” She coughed. “I’m in here!”

I followed the sound of her voice to the first room in the hall. The door was open. A smear of blood was on the floor, leading into the dimly lit room. I found Sarah sitting on the floor. She was holding Anita King in her arms. Anita was dead.

“Oh God, are you alright?” I cried, dropping to my knees and throwing my arms around Sarah. She had a few cuts and bruises. Blood trickled from a scrape on her arm.

“She’s dead,” Sarah said. “She . . . she was in the hall when the shell hit. She got hit by shrapnel or something. She wasn’t wearing her vest. I . . . I just stepped in here. I was knocked down. Anita died.”

“Sarah!” I shouted, shaking her. “Hey! We can’t stay here. I need you to focus, okay? Are you hurt?” She was shell-shocked.

“I don’t think so,” she responded, still sounding distant. “I just fell down when the shell hit. I think I hit my head on the floor.”

“C’mon, we gotta go,” I said.

“I can’t leave Anita.”