The Old Days
The Old Days
0215. 30,000 ft. above South Africa. August 22. 2040
Things seemed good. Thirty men in the back of a Delta-Whisper. The whisper was a unique stealth craft, twin props geared down through long shafts and muffled Sterling engines made it no louder than a whisper. Plus there were no electronics on board to give away the craft to any ELINT or SIGINT aircraft or Satalites. The thirty men (and women) were members of Ares' Dragoons. These highly trained individuals were jumping tonight onto a biological weapons factory building that was twelve stories tall. At this altitude, nearly six miles, exposed flesh would freeze at sub-zero temperatures and you would suffocate in the time it takes you to drop far enough to get oxygen. The team was looking at a six mile, high altitude high opening drop, that would take over forty-five minutes as they flew their parawings thirty lateral miles until they were over the compound.
The compound. There was a nightmare. I'm glad I wasn't going in alone, like the last mission Ares rented me out on (they called it assigned, but I knew where the missions were coming from -- Sales Department.) Nearly a whole meatboy armored cavalry batallion was guarding the ten square mile compund. It was almost its own country, and this building was at the very center. The whole area was surrounded by a five deep fence network that was electrnoically guarded by some of the best AI around. That's why we'd drop in from above. I'm Sharkman and these are my soldiers.
Like I said, there were thirty of us. I'd be jumping with Duck Foot Duey; me driving, him shooting. But that was ok, he could put ten rounds through ten dimes at twenty yards with the HK MP-20SD5; in under three seconds. That would be good, because (I suppose now is as good a time to explain this as the next) our mission was to neutralize the building. I'd decided that we'd drop down onto the roof of the building, blow through the roof and sweep down. We'd fly in in tandem rigs (like those used for training); one man flies it down, and the second sweeps the roof of guards with his supressed MP-20SD5.
Now back to the team. The other twenty-eight were male except for seven, but these ladies had more testosterone than an eighteen year old at the prom. The rest of the team had more buckets full of testosterone than a boardroom full of corp execs. One woman 'Iron maiden', and six of the guys on the team were full conversion solos. Their leader Staff Sergeant 'Steely Dan' would be responsible for leading the Borg boat crew (there are seven men in a boat crew) in the destruction of the compounds armored assets. While I would lead the other three boat crews in the capture of the building. One would stay on the roof with the anti-material rifles, anti-tank missiles, auto-grenade launchers, and air-defense; Chief Nod would be there leader. The other boat crew was led by the XO, Stevie Wonder.
I moved up and down the main isle between the two stacks of troopers in the back of the whisper. Checking gear, making sure ammo pouches were duct taped shut, shoelaces taped on, radio turned off and stowed, goggles and lanyards for pistols and goggles clipped and double clipped. Double checking their swimbuddies check of their parachute harnesses. After I was thuroughly impressed with the mens work, I went to the end of the line and hooked up to Duck Foot.
"Ew. That feels good Cap." he said as I sinched the hip straps.
"Frag you too," I replied. Then we waddled over and checked the XO and his buddy, Snake Dirt.
"Hey Cap," said Stevie, "I ever tell you I'm afraid of heights?"
"Yeah, that's why I throw you out the rear deck." He gave me the one finger wave that told me I was number one with him. I returned the salute as we waddled back and hooked up our packs so they could check us. Then the loadmaster came in and checked everyone again, from front to back. When he finished with me and Duck, he said, "We'll be ready in ten."
I saluted him (one finger style.) Then he went into the cabin and nine and a half minutes later, he came back out. "Thirty seconds to the DZ," he yelled. "Off plane air."
Everyone unhooked their air from the plane oxygen supply and hooked their masks to their personal bottles. This is what we would breath for the next half hour, until we were far enough back in the atmosphere to breathe normally again. The interior lights went out and I heard the crewmembers cranking down the rear deck with the gas engine hydraulics. The cabin depressurized, and I was suddenly very cold. I checked over my personal gear again. Carbine stowed, shotgun sheathed, and GYROC repeater pistol on my gut. The loadbearing vest should hold up and the one thousand assorted rounds should all stay on. Radio and GPS were working and my personal effects and demolitions gear looked intact. I shouted, "Crack lights. Step up and go on red." The men shuffled up to the edge, going from their loose standing positions to cramped back to back, so they could all get out as fast as possible. I looked over at Stevie and he gave the the number one sign. I pursed my lips and blew him a kiss, "See ya on the roof shit-head."
"I'll be there first dick head," he replied. I knew he was full of crap, but it was fun anyways. The insertion would go something like this. I'd lead the team down, they'd stay above me, and then I'd open my chute last after I saw them all open (or at least those that would - hopefully no one would burn in.) Then I'd use my GPS to get us near the roof, like twenty yards near. Duck foot would be illuminating it with his UV laser sight on the MP. Then the rest of the team would fly in a loose formation and come in five to a side. Then we'd land, sweeping the roof as the rest of the team came down; sweeping too.
The interior lights came back on in a dim glow of red. All the men yelled "Geronimo," "Solo," or "Atlas" as they charged out the back door. Duck foot and I went out last, just as Stevie and Snake left the ramp. I rolled over, waved at the crew chief, and then came into a stable face down position. We passed all fourteen unfurling chutes before I pulled our cord. All eight hundred pounds of my, Duck foots, and the combined weight of all our ammo and gear smashed itself down on my balls. Oh the pain! It was exquisite. I looked down at the GPS hooked to Duck's back, and began working the handles to bring us onto the proper course. I looked up and caught a few faint glows from the chem lights on the teams chutes, the light was in the far UW and our goggles had been modified so that other Passive night vision systems could't see them -- we hoped.
The next fourty-five minutes went well, our chute only started to collapse once. But I fixed that and got right back on course. I traced us down the GPS beacons and then the building appeared out of nowhere, as we broke through the low cloud cover. The surface wind was a litle strong, but hopefully our high weight and big chutes would let us all get onto the roof. I directed us down, and slapped Duck in the head twice. The signal for illuminate the roof. I saw him flip on his laser as it blinked to life then the dot appeared clear as day on the center of the main helipad on the roof. The team at this point had flown into position and was coming in from all sides. I felt Ducks gun clattering as he opened up on full auto and sprayed the roof. I looked out and saw the rest of the Detachments guns burping light even through their supressed muzzles. Then we hit the groud as I full flared and we were standing on the south edge of the building. I cut the chute, let it go over the edge and then seperated me and Duck.
"Corner A clear." -- "Corner B clear." -- "Corner C clear." -- men shouted out, all the way up to section D clear. All the corners, their mid-points, and the center guard tower, plus the pill box had been cleared. Everyone had touched down, cut their chutes, which went over the side or were caught and bundled up. Quickly pairs detached and seperated as everyone went about their jobs. The demo guys set up roof breaching charges, the Metal heads began to speed rapel down the side, the assault teams formed up in stacks, and finally the roof team began to re-fortify and take up positions. I drew my weapon, got on the SATCOM, and coded a burst transmission. Nuckles, a big black guy with long arms yelled over (we were still on radio silence) "Cap. Radar is down. We're Go." With his signal that the compounds radar had been taken out by the electricians (for the roof radar) and the surrounding valley's had been taken out by the snipers; I hit the transmit button and waved to Stevie, who set off the breaching charges. In the two seconds it took for the smoke to clear, I was at the front of the lead stack. I felt Duck's squeeze, which meant the whole stack was ready, and I jumped down as the second stack threw in flash bang grenades.
Now, I bet you're gonna ask, what I transmitted. Well, it was to Ares' stealth choppers which had moved in on the compounds territory. They were in the next valley and when my message was uplinked to the satallite, and then redirected down to them, they took off like bats out of hell at 250 mph. They were carrying five men each, plus two snipers each. The snipers were strapped into climbing gear and hung out the side doors (when they slowed down) and would take pot shots at anything that moved in the compound. Each light scout chopper was equiped with wing booms. They sported mini-guns and ten shot rocket pods. They would clear the floors below us, by blasting through the windows, and sweep anybody away that couldn't get to interior rooms fast enough. Then it would be a race for us to get through those interior rooms before the opposition could regroup. Then we'd group up, whoever was left, with the troops who wer deposited by the helos. This was a classic hostile takeover.
There was a tremendous thunder as all ten flashbangs went off, but our audio cutout and polarized vision blocked out the 200 Db and 200 million candle power blasts. We threaded our way through the floor blasting everything. Two men stood at the doors to the floor below. We dropped sachel charges down the elevator shafts, and the second crew came down next.
In the 2.4 minutes it took the ten (out of eleven) helos to get there, we had cleared three floors. Outside I could see the explosions and flames as the Metal Heads took on the batallion. With everyones radio's on things went alot faster. I could hear the AA guys on the roof downing enemy helos, and the Anti-vehicle guys blasting away at the Aerodynes that got too close with their smart grenade launchers and AT missiles. Two Metal heads got hit by Gauss Cannons and blasted to smitherenes, while the roof team took one casualty when a dumb rocket fired by a Aerodyne APC got through the anit-missile laser defense pack that we brought. Three down, that would make this the most costly mission of my career.
Then the Helos showed up. "Ranger One. Come in Sneakers," came their commanders radio call.
"This is Sneakers, we're on the tenth floor and above. Commence Clean Sweep." -- "Roger that. We'll be on the ground in five minutes." Well, he was on the ground in two. Half the helos deposited troops while the other half swept. Then they switched. Their GYROC gatlings, doing serious damage to the inhabitants of the building. Meanwhile their snipers hung out the doors and fired at anything moving around on the ground inside the compound.
We stood at the three doors to the ninth floor. "Sweep done," said the helo pilot. I shouted into my mike, loaded up on reflex adders will do that to ya, "GO GO GO." Nike swung open the door and threw in a flash bang, then his chest exploded and he was hurled into the opposite wall of the corridor we were in: hit in the chest by a GYROC. Damnit four. I stuck my auto-EMGL around the corner and fired the whole mag. Duck foot, behind me did likewise. Our combined twenty rounds of 30mm HE and HEAT explosives had made this a dual use stairwell with a new opening to the eighth floor. I tugged Ducks arm as I went down the stairs, firing on full auto as I went. The 9mm frangible rounds blasted through the hole on wall that the GYROC had come from. I fired my underbarrel GYROC through the hole, but kept moving at a slow run. About five yards per second.
The team hit the bottom of the stairs and jumped the hole to the other side and broke off in two teams, 6 & 8. Each taking one side, but staying in our AO so the other crew wouldn't hit us. This floor went just like the next three, except we didn't loose anyone. On the fifth, Tiny had to gatling carbine a barricade of heavy steel doors. But other than that, it was quiet til we hit the ground floor. As we headed down the stairs from the second floor, I radioed, "Crew one grounding."
"Crew two grounding," came back Stevie.
"Over, Ground." That would be Colonel Butts. That cigar smoking machine was leading the helo assault. Why helos you ask? In an age of Aerodynes? Because you can't silience a jet engine. Rotors and gas engines you can. If you hadn't guessed, this mission relied heavily on stealth.
As we came down into an already cleared floor, (everyone there, and everyone that had tried to leave the building had been blasted by the Ground teams) Colonel Butts was there to greet me. "Good work Shark," he said extending his hand.
"Thankyou, sir" I said, pronouncing the s and i, like a c and u. "One casualty. Tenth floor, bad shape. Sparky patched him, but he lost it. GYROC in the breastplate."
"I'm sorry Sharkman," said the Colonel. "the relief helo will be here in about three minutes and then the Corp hackers will get in through the main terminals. The USG and EEC paid well for this mission, but they said nothing about us not taking what we found."
"Excuse me sir," again the c and u. I was afraid of this.
"Corp said to take an eleventh helo and recover any data we find. Now get your team into holding positions and help secure this compound."
"Yes, Sir," again the c and u. I subvocalized to Nod, "Nod, you there?"
"Yup, Cap," he said, "whats up?" -- "Stick red eye over the side." -- "OK."
Red eye was our IR communications system. It is short range and untra-secure, as it has no scatter or reflection. He poked the reciever over the edge, and I plugged my IR comm unit into my jack, pointed it at his, then began transmitting to him. "Send two men to the ninth floor, north Blue. I think I saw the main terminals there. Demo them. Send two more to the sixth floor; south Blue and Red. Thats the BioGene database. Demo that too. Thermite and explosive spray. Use explosive cards on the processor and memory banks. You have two minutes to find it and setup. Detonate in two point five minutes." -- "Yessa Massa." I could just see his head nodding up and down; good old Nod.
Two and a half minutes later the sixth and ninth floors exploded reigning glass and shards of computer and office furniture down on the Ground teams below. Doing no damage, but generally being an annoyance.
"Sharkman! What was that," came Colonel Butts' voice over the comm.
"Must have been destruct devices on the computer terminal banks and the databanks. That was the floors they were on."
"Damnit. Corp is not going to be happy. Mr. Murphy did us in this time."
"Yes he did."
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