Echo Six: Black Ops 5 - Strikeforce Syria (27 page)

He stood next to the boy’s gurney and listened intently, certain that Nava was hovering just out of sight. He recalled her anger when the idea was first mooted. She wore her disapproval like a soldier would a uniform.

* * *

The day dragged on as the sun made its slow progress across the sky. They'd sweated liters dragging the heavy remains of the big truck to a pit they'd dug a few meters away. Finally, the job was done, and all that remained to mark the existence of the troop carrier, and the men who'd ridden in it, was a mound of sand like an oversized grave. They used an empty hut to store the uniforms, and as daylight began to fade, they changed into the unfamiliar uniforms and equipped themselves with the Russian built weapons.

Some of the men had more problems than others if they were to pass as Syrians. Admiral Brooks and Roy Reynolds were both black, Julio Garcia and Jesse Whitefeather, the Latino and the American Indian, weren't such a problem, but if they ran into a well-lit checkpoint, the operation would come unstuck within seconds. In the end, Brooks and Reynolds wound lengths of cloth around their heads, Bedouin style. Finally they were dressed and armed as Syrian Army troops. Third Corps troops.

The sand was clear of any sign the Syrian soldiers had been there, and Talley was satisfied they'd done everything possible. He spent awhile with Nava, who’d finally given up trying to stop Ali joining the operation and was doing her best to help him prepare for the coming ordeal. He wanted to have some time with her alone. After all, he was just a soldier going into action, a man who wanted to enjoy the familiar warmth of a woman before he embarked on what could be his last few hours on earth. It didn’t happen. She seemed to want to keep the boy near.

As a barrier against me getting too close? Maybe she still hasn’t forgiven me, but I'll have to make the best of it.

He watched her work, and at last when Ali’s wounds were bathed, and he was dressed as a Syrian soldier, she came close to him. He jumped to his feet and took her in his arms.

"You've been avoiding me."

She tried to pull away from him but finally gave in and slumped.

" I'm sorry. It's just… there are so many things happening here, so many deaths, so much cruelty, and even though the bodies of those dead soldiers are buried, I can't forget them." She grimaced. "It's no easier seeing you wearing the uniform of a Syrian captain."

"You know the reason, and you know the alternative."

"I also know you may never return. Rabbi Gold says it's a mission that’s doomed to fail."

Before he could reply, Ali called across to them.

"It cannot fail! You know about the massacre outside Aleppo?"

Tally turned to stare at him. "You know who was responsible?"

He nodded. "The local commander, Major Hafiz. His unit, Third Corps, is a byword for cruelty.

He shook his head. "I didn't know."

"Unless he died in the Sheikh Najjar attack, it is certain he will be in command of the troops defending Al Jasan. Anything to do with the CX9 shells is under his direct command."

Talley nodded. "I guess you’d like to kill him for what he did."

"With every fiber of my body," he affirmed. "Commander, I have a favor to ask. I would like to carry a pistol. If you allowed it, maybe I would have a chance to kill him. You know you can trust me. I have told you everything I know. Besides, I am in your debt for saving my life. It is a debt I’d like to repay."

He thought for a moment.

 
Why not? If he does get the chance, he deserves a pop at Major Hafiz.

"I'll have a word with Sergeant Jackson, and he'll fix you up. There’re plenty of weapons to go around."

The boy nodded his thanks, and Talley waved an acknowledgement.

Now button it, kid, and give me a few minutes with this girl.

He looked at Nava, trying to convey a message with his eyes. She understood, took his hand, and led him into a room at the rear of the hut, some kind of a storeroom. For long minutes, they held each other and exchanged passionate kisses.

"Will I ever see you again, Abe Talley?"

He tried to reassure her with a smile. "These ragheads have been trying to kill me for a long time, and so far they haven't succeeded. I'll be back, don't worry."

She glanced at him, and it was obvious she didn’t believe it any more than he did, but she chose to go with the fiction.

"And then we can talk, about the future?" Her face wore a pleading expression, desperate for his reassurance.

"And then we can talk," he agreed. He gave her a final embrace. “I don’t want to lose you, Nava.”

Her beautiful face stared back at him. “I feel the same, Abe, but I fear neither of us will get what we wish for.”

They embraced a final time, and their kiss was long and passionate. He savored the scent of her body, remembering their time in the desert. Her lips were soft, warm, and inviting, but there was no more time. He heard one of his men calling and broke away.

“I’ll be seeing you, real soon.”

She gave him a faint smile, neither of them wanted to break the spell. They'd had so little time, so much to look forward to.

If things were different, but they aren’t different.

He paused for a moment, and without looking back left to rejoin the men. Jackson was waiting outside the hut.

"Drew, would you get another man to help bring Ali out to the jeep. He knows the way in to Al Jasan, and by the way, give him one of the spare pistols we took off those soldiers."

"You think you can trust him?"

"Yeah, we can trust him."

Jackson shrugged. “That’s good enough for me. I’ll go find Julio.”

Talley nodded. It was time to reunite Benjamin Rothstein with Buchmann.

"Bring out the scientist, and put him on the floor at the back of the jeep. Keep him well away from Guy, and make sure he doesn't make any noise if we hit a checkpoint."

The big German adopted a gloating expression. "He won’t be any trouble, not when I've had a word with him."

“Good, and Buchmann…”

“Ja?”

“Don’t kill him, not yet.”

The big German went away to find the prisoner. When he returned, Rothstein was terrified, and he meekly allowed himself to be thrust to the floor of the vehicle. Garcia took the wheel, and Talley squeezed into the passenger seat alongside Vince DiMosta, who had his Galil pointed forward, ready for instant use.

The rest of the men were sprawled in the back, and he noticed Rovere had arranged things so that the two captured machine guns were deployed ready for use. He smiled; the vehicle had taken on the appearance of a light desert strike vehicle that Special Forces had occasionally used in the past. They’d need it for the same reasons. During the journey to Al Jasan, they’d have to strike hard and fast if they encountered any opposition on the way. Any sentry left to sound the alarm would bring a shitload of misery down on their heads.

They hit the road right after dark. The jeep coped with the overload, and they ate up the distance between Salmeh and Aleppo. The streets of the city were crowded when they entered. Many people would have been hiding from the battle between the rebels and the government forces during the hours of daylight. After dark, they had no choice but to venture out to buy food and supplies. The Army appeared to have withdrawn, and the rebels had taken control of most areas. There were many women in black robes and veils, only their eyes visible. They threaded between ragged, hungry looking children and feral men. Many of the men were armed with an assortment of weapons, including assault rifles, shotguns, and ancient hunting rifles, some of them rusty and probably more dangerous to the user than to an enemy.

But the chaos worked to their advantage. No one seemed to notice their uniforms in the dark, and their passage through the city went without a hitch. It meant they were able to leave the urban landscape behind them and head out into the desert. The journey was a long one, three hundred kilometers across territory that was controlled by a wide range of forces. Syrian regulars, Free Syrian Army, as well as a score of Islamist groups who’d joined the fight, many to look for loot.

The first two hundred kilometers went without a hitch, and by midnight they were only one hundred kilometers from their destination. And then Brooks shouted a warning from the rear of the jeep, where he was almost submerged beneath the tangle of men.

"Heads up. Ali says we need to be careful, there's a…"

"Checkpoint!” Vince shouted. “About three hundred meters. There's a barrier, with a machine gun set up covering the road. You want us to shoot our way through?"

He only had seconds to make a decision. If they blasted the soldiers manning the checkpoint, it could send a warning to the defenders at Al Jasan. But there was no way they'd pass any an inspection.

"Hit them. Julio, start slowing down as if we're about to stop. At the last second, hit the gas, and we'll hit them as we drive through. Don't crash the barrier. They'll be expecting that. Swerve away at the last moment, and we'll curve around in the desert and come back at them. Remember, we have to kill them all.”

Garcia nodded. "Boss, I can see another UAZ jeep around back. We sure could use it."

"Copy that, pass the word, nobody shoot up the jeep. We'll take it with us to Al Jasan."

"Fuckin’ A."

Their UAZ roared closer. Two soldiers stood in the road, watching and waiting, but relaxed. There was no sign of any alarm; after all, they were riding in a Syrian Army vehicle. Even the excessive number of soldiers on board didn’t seem to faze them. The Syrian Army was notorious for overloading and misusing their vehicles and equipment. He shouted to be heard over the roaring engine.

"Don't open up until I do. Use the machine guns on the emplacement. The rest of you hit the two gomers standing in front of the barrier. Vince, watch out for any surprises. There's a stone hut at the side of the track, and there could be troops inside."

"Copy that."

He heard a ratcheting sound as they charged their weapons. Seconds later, they were almost at the barrier, and the first soldier reacted. He'd seen something wrong. Talley couldn't give a damn what it was, but it was enough to ensure he’d be the first man to die. He squeezed the trigger of his Syrian AKM and punched a short burst. It hit the man in the chest and threw him backward, where he crashed into the barrier and slowly slid down onto the road.

Then all hell broke loose. In the back of the jeep, they'd brought both machine guns to bear on the emplacement, and they opened fire in a continuous hurricane of bullets that peppered the sandbagged Syrian machine gun. The gunner and his loader went down, shredded by the torrent of lead, and Garcia brought their jeep to a halt. Two soldiers ran out of the stone hut, and Talley’s men destroyed them in bursts of concentrated gunfire.

All movement on the checkpoint had ceased, and Talley climbed out of the UAZ to race across to the checkpoint. The first task was to check they were all dead, and the other men joined him to start the grisly job. There were no survivors, so it was time to sanitize the site in the hope it may confuse the enemy, at least for enough time for them to complete the operation at Al Jasan. The first thing was to hide the bodies. He looked around for Buchmann.

"Heinrich, you and Garcia can drag the bodies behind the hut. Find somewhere you can hide them undercover, at least until daylight."

The German nodded and called across to Julio. Talley didn't need to warn them to hurry. They all knew that that if the operation wasn’t completed by daylight, they stood no chance of getting out alive. Buchmann dragged the first body around back but suddenly ran back into view.

"They were hiding behind the hut! Julio, watch…"

It was as far as he got. Garcia was on the corner, dragging one of the bodies. A burst of gunfire smacked into him, and he fell.

"Hostiles! Two of them, they were hiding behind the hut. Garcia is down."

"Copy that," Talley acknowledged, his guts churning as a successful operation to take down the checkpoint went south. "Vince, Jesse, cover both sides of that hut. Reynolds, Jackson, use the machine guns, and cut those bastards down before they do any more damage."

The two snipers took up a wide circle to bring them adjacent to the rear of the hut. The machine gunners waited behind a low dune. Nothing moved. There was only one way to flush them out into the open. Vince opened up, firing single shots that ricocheted around the area behind the hut. Jesse joined in, and although neither sniper could see a target, it was enough. Abruptly, they broke cover. Two soldiers suddenly appeared and started running into the line of fire of the waiting machine guns. Once again, the silence of the desert night was torn apart by the sound of continuous automatic fire, as Reynolds and Jackson held down the triggers and hosed the two men with lead, the two men who'd shot Julio. They both went down, their bodies ripped apart by the scything bursts of fire.

Talley waited, but there was no sign of any more opposition. Rebecca started forward. Despite her warlike trade, she’d appointed herself the unit medic.
 

"I'll see if there's anything I can do for Julio."