Zero Point (33 page)

“Roger that, Captain. We’ll await your signal, and then move out. Good luck to you and your men,” Turner said.

“And to you, my friend,” Saune responded, with utmost admiration for this steadfast man that he had come to respect. “See you in the control room.
Saune—out.”

“We have about ten minutes, Samuel,” Turner said solemnly, lowering his binoculars and seeing the smile on the face of the tough Peruvian.

“Are you ready, amigo?” Samuel asked in a carefree manner, as if they were merely going to a ball game.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied, looking at his friend. “You’re a good friend, Samuel; you didn’t have to go along with this nutty plan, you know.”

“Hey, don’t worry. It’s a cinch getting in there,” he stated, pointing to the Bishamon building in the distance. “Besides, we have Pencor, so we don’t need
no
stinking key,” he added, in an exaggerated accent that caused Turner to laugh aloud.

“Samuel,” he said after a few silent moments. “If I don’t make it out, I want you to tell my dad….”

“Hey, Josh,” Samuel softly interrupted. “No more talk like that, okay? You’ll see your dad real soon.” After many silent minutes, the two heard the classic thumping sound of the Bell 205 coming from the western flank of the mountain.

Pulling the 45 from the holster, Turner looked at his friend and smiled a wide grin. “Lock and load, my friend;
it’s
Miller time.”

“If it’s all the same to you, Josh, I’d rather have a Corona,” Samuel responded. The two jumped back into the car and started up the road toward the gate as the Bell 205 Huey came into view above the landing plateau at the lower access of the compound.

‘“Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war.”’ Samuel whispered from the back seat, quoting Shakespeare's Julius Caesar and poking the back of a confused Pencor’s head with his pistol.

“You didn’t finish the quote, pal,” Turner said as they neared the gate, his mind now steeled for the conflict that lie ahead.

‘“…That this foul deed shall smell above the earth with carrion men, groaning for burial.”’

28

U
nbeknownst to Captain Saune, the Bishamon guards had been doubled at the lava tube’s entrance as a result of the brazen escape that morning by
he
and Turner in the Sikorsky. The Bell 205, flown by he and his men, quickly dropped into the compound’s landing platform.

The unexpected arrival of the Huey managed to catch the Yakuza soldiers off guard, allowing the crucial seconds needed for them to touch down on the makeshift landing pad and stir a dust cloud into the air. Those precious seconds gave Captain Saune and his men time to leap from the side door of the Huey and make a run for an outcropping of boulders some fifteen feet distant.

The precious moments ended abruptly, however, as the Yakuza soldiers quickly recovered and gunfire erupted from the lava tube entrance high above them. The Tenerife National Guardsmen dove for cover behind the boulders, but Saune and his men quickly returned a deadly barrage of weapons fire from their M16A1 rifles. The six mercenaries quickly scattered for cover under the onslaught.

Saune knew in seconds that they were in a strategically precarious position. He didn’t expect the entrance to be this
heavily guarded, but rather hoped that minor resistance would have made it easier for them to summit the rise to the cave entrance. With a loud alarm blaring from the facility above them, the six combatants at the lava tube entrance were soon re-enforced from within the facility. They unleashed a fierce volley against Saune and his men, trapped in their exposed position far below.

“We’re sitting ducks here, Captain,” Sergeant Juan Ortega yelled as he let loose another flurry of shots at the cave entrance. “We have to get to higher ground.”

“I’m aware of that, Sergeant,” Saune yelled back, scanning the area for a possible means of gaining a better tactical position
.“
There!” he yelled, pointing to the loading platform that served them during their wild escape earlier that day. “We’ll split and start a flanking maneuver at the loading platform where the conveyer belt is. “You four,” he yelled, pointing to the four soldiers at the far end of the boulder. “I want you to lay down staggered left-to-right grenade fire every five seconds. That should give time for the rest of us to make it to that metal platform.”

Understanding the captain’s plan, the four men at the end readied the 40mm M203 grenade launchers that were attached to their M16s.

“On my mark—” Saune yelled, counting to three under his breath. “Now!” he yelled as the last man in his skirmish line jumped up and fired the rifle-propelled grenade. The subsequent explosion sent the surprised Yakuza men
scrambling for cover. The bloody remains of one of Osama’s men showered the lava tube’s entrance. Captain Saune and the other four men jumped into action and scrambled towards the metal platform. Ten meters seemed like a mile as the next of Saune’s men unleashed another grenade. The Yakuza guards eventually realized the potential flanking maneuver and responded with a murderous spray of gunfire, killing the last man of Saune’s group just before he reached the cover of the platform. The four remaining at the platform returned fire and eliminated another of Osama’s men.

Though in a better position, Saune had a sickening feeling in his gut that his chances were becoming slim at best. Although his two teams were helplessly outnumbered, they continued firing upon the men at the lava tube entrance high above them. Hoping for a miracle, he punched the lever on the conveyor belt to no avail.
The Bishamon personnel must have disconnected the power to the unit after this morning. I hope Josh is having better luck up above than we are down here,
Saune thought as he let loose a grenade from his rifle at the cave entrance.

As the desperate battle raged on the landing plateau below the Bishamon facility, the black Mercedes approached the main gate above the facility. Slowing the vehicle, Turner could make out the distinct sound of an alarm resonating throughout the perimeter of the complex. He saw, to his relief, the large contingent of Yakuza soldiers deserting their loading
duties at the transport truck and scrambling back into the building through its main doors.

“They're going down to access the tunnel from the supply room on the lower level.” Yashiro said. The four remaining gate guards saw the Bishamon vehicle approaching and dutifully opened the long, rolling gate.

“Not a word, Pencor,” Samuel threatened from behind him in the back seat, “or your retirement comes early. Do you understand?” Pencor nodded and smiled as Turner used his controls to open the electric window on Pencor’s side. He lowered it halfway as the car rolled to a stop at the gate. A wide-eyed guard, excited by the sound of gunfire below, saw Pencor in the passenger side and waved them through without fanfare. He then returned to the guardhouse after closing the gate.

“So far so good,” Turner said as he pulled the car up close to the double steel doors that led into the bowels of the facility. “Do you have the access card, Yashiro?” he asked, shutting the engine off, and putting the 45 back in its holster.

“I’ve got it right here, Josh,” the little Japanese scientist replied as he held up the magnetic swipe card used to unlock the main doors in the facility. “It should get us into the control room as well.”

“Let’s do this,” Turner said, climbing out of the car, followed by Samuel and Yashiro. Pencor slowly opened his door and, as he got out, looked around him for any possible opportunity to make his escape. Samuel watched as Yashiro
ran the magnetic card through the door lock slot. Pencor quickly bolted into a run towards Osama’s guards just as the buzzer sounded and the door unlocked. In the split second that Turner pulled the door open, Pencor began yelling and pointing to the three intruders at the door. Samuel started to react as Pencor ducked behind the loading truck.

“Never mind him, Samuel. He’s useless to us now. Get inside quickly,” he yelled as the three ducked inside the ominous building. Gunfire from the gate guards peppered the door as it closed behind them. Turner saw a steel rod lying next to the door that was most likely used to prop the door open, and shoved it through the handles of the double doors, effectively locking it from within.

“That will buy us some time, guys,” he said pulling out his weapon and hearing the reverberation of grenade explosions from deep within the building’s structure. As Turner surveyed their surroundings, he saw the main entrance atrium filled with wooden and steel crates labeled in Japanese. Stark in appearance, the room tapered to a long center corridor that seemed to traverse the entire length of the facility. He saw stairwells on the right side descending to the lower level and stairs on the opposite end rising to the upper level.

His survey was interrupted by the sounds of men coming down the stairs, yelling excitedly in Japanese. Turner and his companions ducked behind one of the large steel crates, hoping the men would not see the steel rod locking the front door. Luckily, the men were intent on joining the firefight
below the facility, and failed to notice it as they ran past the door and proceeded down the stairwell.

“Okay, Yashiro, give us the layout again,” Samuel said as the three stepped out from their cover.

“Those men were coming from the upper level. It houses the security office and Osama’s suites. This is the main level,” the Japanese scientist said, pointing down the corridor. “All of those doors along the corridor are the sleeping quarters and bathrooms. At the end of the corridor is the control room, which is usually guarded from the inside.”

“What is down those stairs?” Turner asked, pointing to the stairs on the right corner of the atrium.

“If you go down those steps, it turns to the left and you’ll come to another corridor that mirrors this one. If you take a left at the end of the corridor, it leads to the supply room directly above the lava tube. Just across from that is Osama’s lab, where he most likely killed my friend Wari and the other scientists we saw in the tunnel when we were escaping this morning.”

“And the Scalar weapon…” Turner asked. “Where is that located?”

“Go right at the corridor and down the hall to the left. On the right side are the dining rooms. At the end of the corridor is the ZPG room, which is directly below the control room on this level.”

“You’re not thinking of doing what I think you are…” Samuel said to his friend.

“I’m sure they know that we’ve crashed their little party, now that Pencor is loose,” Turner said as he started walking towards the right stairwell. “I want you and Yashiro to get into that control room and stop that weapon. I’m going to go below and see what mischief I can get into.”

“I’m not comfortable with us splitting up again, amigo,” Samuel said apprehensively.

“We have to do this quickly, Samuel. Radio me on the VHF link when you have secured the control room. Captain Saune and I will join up with you later.” Turner quickly disappeared down the stairs. Just then, the buzzer on the main door locking mechanism sounded, and despite it being violently pushed from the outside, the steel rod held firm.

“I hate it when he does this crap,” Samuel said indifferently, as he and Yashiro sprinted down the long dimly-lit corridor. A red strobe light was flashing in alarm above the two large steel doors that led into the complex’s control room. Peering through the small rectangular glass panes on the doors, Samuel saw two armed guards standing adjacent to the doors with their backs to them. Beyond them were three men in lab coats he assumed to be the remaining scientists loyal to Osama.

“Okay, Yashiro, get ready,” Samuel whispered, ducking down below the glass panes. “After I swipe the lock open, I’m going to rush the guy on the right. You take care of the guard on the left. Got it, amigo-san?”

“Got it.”
Yashiro replied nervously, gripping his pistol.

“On three…” Samuel whispered. On the count of “one”, he swiped the access card through the slot, unlocking the door with a buzz. Samuel launched his full weight against the opening door, sending one of the unsuspecting guards sprawling to the floor. Samuel’s sudden entrance shocked the three scientists at the control panel across the room. He was followed by Yashiro, who nervously pointed his pistol at the other standing Yakuza guard. The mercenary could see the fear in Yashiro’s eyes. Reacting swiftly, he raised his weapon at the tiny Japanese man, who stood frozen in terror.

Samuel, seeing Yashiro’s plight, deftly fired two rounds into the guard. The dying man fired wildly as he fell, striking Yashiro in the same shoulder that was hit the night before. Wincing in pain, he fell back against the wall, and slid down to the floor. The other guard, recovering from his initial shock, scrambled to retrieve his weapon that was knocked from his hands by the opening door.

He rose up quickly and rushed Samuel, hitting him square in the mid-section. Samuel fell to his knees and his 45 went sprawling across the floor. The hardened mercenary lashed out a bone shattering roundhouse kick to Samuel’s head, which narrowly missed. Samuel’s instincts took over as he launched himself inside the man’s killing zone. The agile Quechuan’s vise-like arm encircled the Japanese man’s neck as the guard’s eyes went wide with surprise at the quickness of his opponent. In one swift upward and turning motion, he snapped the Yakuza guard’s neck, killing him instantly. The
force of Samuel’s forward momentum made them both fall to the floor.