Rise of the Phoenix: Act 3 Read online

  “Okay, umm… I’ve got seven men in here with submachine guns and side arms,” he responded wiping his hand over his bald head. “Ummm…Okay, they can come in only two ways. The main doors in the south and west section. Ho...hold on,” Rice said as his radio kicked in. “Fuck! Whoever these guys are they’ve hacked into the security system, and they’ve got control of the doors right now.”

  “Great, so now we’re trapped in here. Better start making a defensive perimeter,” Pitch commented.

  “With the weapons we have, we won’t be able to hold out long,” Doom added.

  “There is a way we can get the advantage,” Edge said as he walked over to the controls. “Now it’s our time to get the drop on them.”

  Quinn noticed all of them were looking at Rice, and thus he felt that he could make it to the nearest door. It’s just a few feet. I’ll just push off the chair…

  As soon as he started to lean forward a pistol touched the back of his neck.

  “Leave that chair and I’ll shoot both your knees,” Edge snapped, not even looking at the man. Quinn leaned back into his chair and crossed his legs, with a ‘you got me’ shrug.

  “Good boy,” remarked Edge.

  Rice’s radio came to life again. The news was more positive than the last time. “We may not have to hold out long. Captain said they have a way of bypassing the override and will have the doors unlocked soon.”

  “How does that help us if they’re coming in through all the doors?” asked Pitch.

  “There is a door that’s connected to the North section and leads directly to the emergency escape. The only other way to that entrance is through the labs. It’s hard to defend which means they really can’t block us in,” Rice commented and turned away to give orders to his men.

  Edge looked at his men. Doom was the first to comment. “It’s a long shot, but we have to take it.”

  “Agreed, not many other options,” Edge added. “Hey kid, what’s your name again?”

  “Rice, sir.”

  “You know how to work these cranes?”

  “Not as well as Aaron, sir. He’s got about as much training as the workers; he can make them move flawlessly. He’s stationed on the floor below.”

  “Then get him up here double time. We’ve got less than a minute before our guests arrive.”

  ۞۞۞۞

  Trident heard the door open behind him. If Miller was going to get these people out, they need to start playing offensive. Push the soldiers back or kill them. Trident looked at what used to be Mac and came to an easy decision. The latter.

  Trident spun to the workstation next to him and the one soldier he had spotted also spotted him. Each one stood and began firing at each other, forcing Trident to take new positions by a counter. The counter top closest to him was instantly torn apart. Spraying and praying, Trident thought, trying to prevent me from coming up. He slid open the closets next to him and found a can of compressed air. Trident smiled. He peeled off the label and tossed it over the counter.

  The gunfire came to an abrupt halt. Trident came around the corner following his can toss and saw the soldier who had dived away from the perceived grenade out in the open. For a couple of seconds, the soldier made eye contact with Trident, who, with a smirk, mouthed the word “sucker.” The soldier went for his sidearm, but Trident won the race and blasted him. He didn’t stop firing until the face mask of the soldier cracked and burst red.

  “Tom, get these people out of here,” Miller ordered as he continued to engage the enemy. Tom, in a bent position, ran along the outer edge of the room towards the newly opened door.

  “When I start shooting, you four make your way down the hallway, stay crouched and along the wall until you’re at the end,” Tom instructed. The group of scientists just nodded their heads, but judging by the look fear on their faces Tom could have told them to dance the hokey-pokey, and they would have agreed to that, too.

  Ramona mentally calculated her distance to the door. It was not that far regarding feet, but with the bullets flying at her, it might have well been a mile. She looked across to the next room looking for Tucker. Just as she was about to call his name, Tom gave the order to go.

  “Now! Now! Now!” Tom yelled as he stepped out into the hallway, protecting the door and providing a barrier for the scientists. Miller, Trident, and Tucker started laying down suppressive fire. The three remaining enemy soldiers were pinned in place by the hail of bullets. Tom looked to his right and saw the first scientist frozen in fear. With him there, the rest of the group would have to expose themselves to gunfire.

  “Move! Now!” Tom yelled.

  “I can’t. I didn’t sign up for this,” The scientist sobbed with tears in his eyes and a wet spot on the crotch.

  “Sorry Dennis,” Tom said unapologetically as he grabbed him by the shirt and threw him into the doorway. The scared Dennis started crawling through the doorway cursing every step. Tom turned his attention back to the front as he saw an object fly towards him, his eyes widening as the object closed in.

  ۞۞۞۞

  The group had little time to prepare, and to make matters worse the area they had to secure was large with many avenues for the enemy to navigate. It was a soldier’s ‘worst nightmare’ but for Edge, Doom, and Pitch it was better than they had expected.

  Doom took the MP5 from Aaron, the crane guy, and went to the crosswalk connecting the southern cross-beams. It wasn’t a sniper rifle by any means, but with some well-placed shots, it would still do a great job at slowing the enemy’s advance.

  Pitch took charge of the floor, with Rice and the other men. At first, Rice’s men had no idea why they were listening to a short man in a suit, but for a short guy he had one hell of an imposing personality. A few sentences, a couple of evil eye looks, and a chest poke was all it took for the men to realize he was the one calling the shots.

  Edge stayed up top with Aaron to cover Quinn and act as overwatch for the others. Edge’s team dropped their aliases and used their customary call signs for more reliable communications.

  “Gentlemen,” announced Edge over the radio, “jackets and ties are now optional.”

  “Got some nice ones for ’em,” Aaron said pointing at the display of the crane’s camera. The symbol for explosive was posted all over the crates he was picking up. “This is all those nice gasses we need to use the cutters. Drop those from this height, and they’re gonna blow like the Fourth of July.”

  “I like it,” Edge replied with a smile

  “The crane system is mostly automated. I can set a location, and when I want to drop them like bombs, all I have to do is hit this ‘emergency button’ and baa…boom,” said the young man in a desire to hide his nervousness. Edge easily read through it but honestly did not blame him or the others as long as they stood up to the pressure when the time came.

  “That’s perfect: just keep doing what you’re doing, and we’ll make them regret getting out of bed this morning,” Edge promised.

  Aaron gave a slow nod. “Okay. Cranes should be in the position in about one minute.”

  “Not a moment too soon,” Edge responded as he lifted his chin to the south entrance which had opened allowing eight heavily armed men to enter. “This is about to get real.”

  “They’re going to kill you. All of you. You’ve messed with the wrong people,” Quinn spat from his chair.

  “What makes you think they’re not going to kill you along with us?” Edge taunted.

  “They need me. I have connections to resources they don’t have,” Quinn smiled.

  “God, you’re a fucking idiot if you believe that,” Edge insisted as he looked over to the West entrance and saw that another eight-man team had entered and were making a fast break for Pitch’s location. “Pitch, eight Tangos heading your way. Four hugging the outer wall and four more moving through the equipment, about a hundred feet directly at your six.”

  “Got ’em,” Pitch replied.

  Edge waited for the first shot
to go off. He embraced the last few minutes of control because once gunfire started, chaos always reared its ugly head and knowing this was soon going to turn into one hell of a battle.

  ۞۞۞۞

  Pitch watched the enemy approach. The four men south of his position leapfrogged from one spot to another while the men on the outside moved faster, hugging the wall and working to flank their position. Pitch anticipated this move: it made sense given the large area and the tactical superiority they had.

  He had five of the men stay back with the workers, their task being simply to hold the approaching killers at bay. He had told Rice and a second guard, Zack, “Single shots or short controlled bursts, nothing more; then move to a new location, keep them guessing.”

  His team’s mission was more finite: engage the enemy, kill them, and then flank the flankers. It was a long shot, but what the hell wasn’t at this point? All we need to do is hold off this wave, and according to Rice the doors will be opened, and we can get the fuck outta here, Pitch thought.

  He signaled the location of the approaching men to Rice and Zack. They nodded and waited for his go. In Pitch’s earpiece, he could hear Edge giving updates. “They’re thirty feet from you… twenty-five…”

  “Roger. Engaging,” Pitch replied as he and his team popped out and opened fire. Their reflexes were swift, and the Order’s soldiers simply dropped to cover and returned fire. It became clear to Pitch that they were up against some well-trained opponents, but he still planned to kick their asses.

  Rice’s attacks were controlled single shots that worked well at keeping his targets at bay. He was rising to the challenge. Zack, unfortunately, was not: with each attack he stayed up too long and fired wildly, rarely hitting close to his target. Luck was the only thing keeping him alive, and that usually didn’t last too long. At least, Zack remembered to keep moving…

  Zack slid next to the machine near Pitch and immediately let the gun go full auto. Pitch cringed as he saw much-needed ammo fly wastefully at the enemy.

  “Zack, I said use burst fire only. You’re wasting ammo,” Pitch yelled, then fired two well-placed shots into a pipe. Steam shot out and covered the nearby machines in a thick fog. Pitch saw the man hiding behind it run away. “Gotta be creative sometimes.”

  A hail of bullets tore into Pitch’s cover just when he dropped behind it shielding his head from the shrapnel. He saw the same happen to Zack’s cover and, instead of staying behind it, Zack’s nervousness kicked in and he stood up to return fire. Pitch warned the fool to get down, but the trap had been sprung. Zack had barely stood up when bullets tore him from his stomach to his chest. He was dead before he hit the floor.

  Pitch did not hesitate to break from his cover and dive rolled over to Zack, grabbing his MP5. Before he finished his roll, he switched the gun back to single fire and was firing back as soon as he stood. The two man team hid behind cover, just waiting. I’ve got to turn the tables on these guys.

  A sharp whistle came from his right. He turned to the whistle and found Rice hiding in the shadows. Using hand signals, he instructed Pitch that two men were already moving counter clockwise to flank him. Pointing to his left Pitch did a three-second countdown. Rice readied his gun as Pitch took off running across an open area of the floor. As planned, the bad guys were eager to take him out and started giving chase, their bullets leading the way. Just before they zeroed in on him, Pitch dove over a tram. The tram shook and rattled under the onslaught, pieces of fiberglass flew in every direction as the bullets shredded where he would have been.

  Rice fired at the two man team, dropping the last guy before the first guy knew what had happened. He lined up the shot and fired but in the excitement he had forgotten to count his rounds and instead of a flame coming from the end of his barrel the gun went click.

  “Fuck!” His target immediately spun, forcing Rice behind the only available cover, a single steel support beam not much wider than his body. Sucking in his chest to make up the difference, Rice did his life’s very best to make himself as small as possible. And for what seemed like an eternity, bullets whizzed past him like angry hornets.

  ۞۞۞۞

  There was not a single gunshot that started the battle, but numerous ones going off simultaneously. Doom sat on his perch like the stalker he was, watching the eight-man team below move forward oblivious to him.

  Aaron turned on whatever machines he could control: trams, conveyer belts, cutters, drills, anything that would make noise and provide cover. Doom noticed their G36C assault rifles. They were effective at longer distances than his MP5, which gave them a decided advantage in a firefight. That was where the cranes came in.

  Moving on a rail system that spanned the entire floor, the crane could drop boxes at almost any location. As Pitch and those with him engaged the soldiers some distance behind Doom, the men below seemed to be pressing on, not looking for anyone else. They’ve got the others heading for Pitch. That’s where they must think everyone is. Their loss, the silent sniper, thought as the first man entered the range of his gun.

  A loud ping preceded the man dropping to the ground. It was a dead-on head shot. Unfortunately, not a kill shot: the soldier’s helmet was too thick for the little 9mm to crack. Though alive the man moved like he was hit in the head with a sledgehammer. His teammate had to drag him behind cover while he waved his gun wildly in a drunk-like fashion.

  Doom let off another four shots, each one hitting the soldiers or their cover. No deaths but they stopped moving, and some were hurting. Body armor may stop a bullet from penetrating, but it did little to blunt the pain of the impact.

  As expected, as soon as Doom fired the enemy found his location and were more than happy to return fire. Doom took off towards the west end of the catwalk soon sparked and clanked from the impacts of projectiles. He slid around the bend and popped upright sending back a volley of return fire. Doom managed to hit one soldier who grabbed his throat and spasms against a nearby control panel, hitting just about every button. The panel controlled a welding robot which began to gyrate wildly. The rest of the enemy squad had to scramble out of its way. Doom would always claim that he planned it precisely. He allowed himself a quick mental, “Damn straight.”

  Eyes, barrels, bullets, and laser sights: all were pointed in his direction trying to take him down, which was exactly what Doom intended. He usually preferred to hide in the back and let Pitch or Trident be the glory hounds but today he decided to be the center of attention. It was for a good cause: allowing the enemy to truly enjoy the surprise he had for them. And surprised they were.

  They had been so focused on finding and eliminating Doom that they never saw the crane coming in on its mini bomb run. The first box fell directly over two men who, like in the old cartoons, noticed the shadow overhead too late.

  They let out a scream that was heard over the noise before the box slammed into the welding machine next to them and erupted into a giant fireball. Doom had to duck as pieces of metal flew overhead. The two soldiers near the crash site were sent cart-wheeling through the air. The explosion cascaded to the next machines as the domino effect kicked in, various machine parts and sparks flew to every part of the room.

  Most of the men had managed to avoid the explosions, only to be greeted with a second, then the third crate of compressed flammable gasses. In under a minute, a thirty-foot area had been converted to a barbecue pit. Men who weren’t killed by the explosions dashed to avoid the shrapnel, running squarely into Doom’s sights. Capitalizing on the distraction, Doom easily picked them off. Fish in a freakin barrel.

  One soldier was determined to live as he fired a grenade at the sniper’s location. Doom took off east as the explosion rocked the catwalk. Whoa now! There’s no way a grenade packs that much punch. What type of weaponry do these guys have?

  He came up from his roll to feel the catwalk shaking a bit more than before. It should take two or three of those things to cause this much damage!

  He found his attacker and th
e two of them strafed eastward holding down their respective triggers. Bullets missed each other with loud cracks and whizzes. When they stopped to reload Doom glanced in Pitch’s direction, seeing muzzle flares flashing like nightclub strobe lights. He’s gonna make it. He has to. He still owes me for that crappy shirt he bought me for my birthday. He slammed another magazine into the gun and readied himself for the next round of the duel.

  His opponent got the jump on him and ran under the catwalk, firing away. Doom jumped back into a rear roll as the metal grating sparked beneath him. Quickly getting to his feet, he backpedaled returning fire. When the gunfire from below ceased, Doom peered over the sides of the railing, finding no sign of his attacker. These goddamn plates on the railings are making frickin blind spots.

  Suddenly the catwalk shook like it had been hit by a semi, throwing him onto his back. Before he could question what was happening the catwalk shifted downward.

  ۞۞۞۞

  Trident’s weapon clicked dry. As he switched to his sidearm, movement caught his eye. A ball flew down the central hallway. Trident recognized the distinct look, and his heart sank.

  “Grenade! Get the fuck down!” he yelled dropping for cover.

  Ramona heard Trident and backpedaled as fast as she could until her back hit the wall. She heard the grenade land with a high pitched tink. She had always imagined it would be a heavier thud, but that did not matter now; the sound was not going to kill her, the explosion was.

  Ramona pushed herself off the wall and made for the corner where Mac’s body continued to lie. She barely made it a few steps when she heard Dr. Wright’s scream, cut off by an earth shattering roar.

  ۞۞۞۞

  As the debris from the explosion settled, and his senses came back, Tucker wiped the dust from his face. He immediately looked across the hallway where he last saw Ramona. Most of the workstations by the door had been blown to pieces. Wood, glass and plastic lay everywhere, and only a spiraling dust cloud loomed in the air.