Echo Six: Black Ops 5 - Strikeforce Syria (33 page)

"Hafiz!"

The officer smiled and stepped to one side. Behind him was a young soldier, lying prone on the floor with a PKM machine gun. The barrel was pointed at Buchmann.

"Indeed. Now, it is my turn to repay you for what you have done to me."

He nodded at the machine gunner, but Buchmann and Talley were already moving, swerving out of the firing line as the shooting started. The emplacement was crowded with artillery pieces, crates of shells, and dead bodies. The German raced one way, and Talley the other. Heinrich made it and dived through the opening. Talley felt a round slam into his leg, and he tumbled to the floor, managing to scramble behind one of the artillery pieces.

The same fucking leg that got hit in Cairo. Bastards! This one’s going to hurt like hell.

The machine gunner kept firing, and the heavy rounds thundered around him, ricocheting off the concrete and buzzing past his head like angry bees. He tried to move, but the stabbing pain shot through him. He knew it would only be a short time before the wound went numb, and the leg stiffened. He fired back half a dozen rounds from his assault rifle, hoping for a lucky shot that might kill or wound the gunner. It didn’t happen. His AKM stopped firing, and he recalled using up his spare ammunition when they charged the bunker. He snatched out his pistol and peered around the side of the gun carriage. Hafiz was waiting for him, and the bullets from the Major’s AKM flattened into the steel structure of the gun.

"You're finished, Commander Talley. From the day you first came here, you never had any hope."

"You haven't managed to kill me yet, Hafiz,” he shouted back. “Why don't you come in and try it?"

Keep ‘em talking. That's the way to play it. Let the psycho Arab enjoy his delusions. Then blow the fucker’s head off his shoulders
.

The Syrian laughed again, the insane cackling of a madman.

"I don't think so, infidel. I have a better plan. You've seen the effects of the CX9, and there's more than enough of it here to kill you all. Through that door behind me is a containment room, a necessary precaution when dealing with nerve gas. I will release the gas and enter the room. Believe me, Commander; I will enjoy the thought of you dying such a horrific death. You should know there is no escape. My gunner will cover this place until the last moment. After the gas takes effect, well, it will be interesting to watch the show."

He rapped out commands in Arabic and then went silent. Talley could hear him working, unscrewing the fuses, and beginning to get access to the lethal CX9. He checked his pistol and discovered he was down to the last three bullets. Whatever else he did, he’d make sure they counted. Two Syrians, that meant one apiece and one spare round. He peered around the carriage of the gun, but immediately the machine gun opened fire, and he had to pull back.

Where the hell is Heinrich? He must be around somewhere, unless he was hit in that first burst of machine gun fire. But where is he?

Moments later, he had his answer. The iron door was open where Guy had exited. The morning sunlight streamed in, and then was blotted out by the massive figure of the German as he charged, firing his AKM from the hip. It was magnificent, but it wasn’t war. One of his bullets hit the machine gunner, and he recoiled in pain, as he tried and failed to jerk the gun around to return fire.

But Hafiz moved like lightning. He dodged between the artillery pieces and dived into the containment room. Talley was about to go after him when three shots from the machine gun whipped past him, reminding him the gunner was only wounded, as was Buchmann. The big German had taken three bullets that stitched diagonally across his body. They formed a line from his stomach to his shoulder, and blood was staining his uniform. He'd taken cover behind a howitzer, but his immediate danger wasn't from enemy gunfire. Either he’d bleed out and die on the floor of the stark, squalid emplacement, or the gas would take him.

Talley looked out again, and this time no shots came back at him. The machine gunner was busy checking to see if Buchman was in any state to shoot back at him. This time Talley could see the man, or part of him. Underneath the gun barrel, between the carriage and the breach, there was a tiny hole through which he could see the Syrian’s uniform. He’d no idea which part of the man's body he was looking at, only that if he put a bullet into him, he’d have time to rush him and deliver a kill shot. He looked across at the German again, and Buchman caught his eyes. The eyes bore his agony.

No! No way, no fucking way. Not Buchman. Somehow, I have to help him
.

He realized to his astonishment how much he'd come to depend on Sergeant Heinrich Buchman. A racist and a bigot, of that there was no doubt. A bully, as well, all too willing to use his enormous strength and weight to leap into a brawl and tear his opponents to pieces. But above all, he was the total soldier, tough, immensely strong, and a skilled killer with weapons or bare hands. Having Buchman in Echo Six was almost like having his own armor support. But it was more than that. Heinrich was one of his men, a man he'd come to like and respect despite his many failings.

No way am I going to let him die! Not today, you Syrian piece of shit.

He took careful aim. The tiny fragment of uniform was still visible, and he gently squeezed the trigger. The report of the bullet was loud, but not as loud as the machine gunner's scream. Talley realized instantly he'd scored a lucky shot and hit something critical.

Two shots left!

He ran out while he had the advantage and jerked to a stop. The gunner was staring at Heinrich, even as his screams became louder, interspersed with sobs of agonized despair. But he was still able to shoot, still clutching his gun, and with the barrel aimed straight at Buchmann's stomach.

About to pull the trigger for the final killing shot, he realized this was no man. Another kid, maybe fifteen or sixteen years old, recruited to fight for Major Hafiz's Third Corps butchers. The boy's soft dark eyes were filled with tears. He said something in Arabic, and then his finger tightened on the trigger.

Oh, God, no! Not another kid, for Christ's sake. I'm a soldier, not a child killer.

He shouted, knowing the gunner wouldn't understand, but trying anything to make him stop, to lay down his weapon, and to give himself a chance to live. It was useless. In a split second, Buchmann would be riddled with bullets. He had no choice. He fired, and the shot hit the kid in the chest. He slumped, mortally wounded, and his machine gun slipped out of his hands. He grabbed at it, dropped it, but tried again, and held it in his hands. He was trying to line up the barrel on Buchman, his hands shaking, his whole body shaking. Talley limped forward, put the barrel of his pistol to the soldier's head, and pulled the trigger. His last bullet tore into the boy’s brain, and he died. Talley tried to get to Buchmann to inspect his wounds, but tripped as his leg gave way, and he had to crawl. When he reached him, the German was still conscious, a good sign.

"Heinrich, how is it?"

He gave a slight nod, and his eyes narrowed with the pain. "I've had worse."

Talley doubted it, but there was no blood escaping from his mouth and no sucking sound of damaged lungs. So there was a chance. Except for another factor. The CX9.

"I'll get outside and call for help as soon as the commo is in range. Hafiz is in that room. Can you keep the door covered, in case he tries to get away?”

Heinrich nodded. He had to leave him to get a medic while there was still time to save him. He got to his feet and limped outside, gritting his teeth against the pain, and managed to make contact with Drew.

“How is Rebecca?”

A pause. “Not good, Boss. She needs medical assistance, and fast. The Israelis are on the way, and Admiral Brooks asked them to include a medic in their team.”

“Roger that that. We have another problem. Heinrich got hit. He’s pretty bad, lying in the artillery emplacement a few hundred meters west of the town.”

“I’ll come right away.”

“Understood.”

His earpiece clicked again. “Boss?” Buchmann’s voice.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“Major Hafiz got away. I nearly blacked out, and when I looked up, he was running out the door. I took a shot, but I didn’t get him.”

“Shit! That bastard has more lives than a cat.”

 
“He’s long overdue for a bullet.”

“Right. I’ll take a look around.”

“Jawohl.”

He broke the connection and started as Jesse Whitefeather materialized next to him.

“Jesus Christ, Jesse, I didn’t hear you coming.”

The Indian smiled. “We do have a reputation, Boss, and I don’t like to disappoint.”

Talley smiled. “I need to finish Hafiz. We’ll be pulling out of here soon, and I can’t leave him alive.”

Whitefeather nodded and pointed to the north. “He went thataway.”

“You’re sure.”

He nodded. “As sure as I know where he’s hiding. There’s a shepherd’s hut, or something like it, about five hundred meters away. Too far to be sure of a kill with this crappy Russian rifle, or I would have taken him.”

Talley stared at him. “He’s mine.”

“Sure, but by the look of that leg, you won’t even get to him, let alone kill him.”

He looked down. Blood was soaking through his pants. A small pool had formed on the ground.

“I’ll manage.” He began to walk to the north. After five paces, he staggered and almost fell, but Jesse was right behind and caught him. “Thanks.”

“Let’s go get him.”

It was crazy, hobbling across the Golan Heights, barely able to walk, yet stalking a dangerous mass murderer. But he had to do it. The man had to die, had to account for so many crimes, so many murders. They covered the ground quickly, although Jesse had to almost carry him. The stone ruin came nearer, and they slowed. There was no sign of Hafiz, but there were signs of the gas. The wind had blown it in this direction, leaving pockets of the CX9 lying in holes and ruts in the ground. It was dissipating, but slowly, too slowly.

“You need to be careful,” Whitefeather warned. “Slip into that, and you’re a dead man.”

He shuddered. The thought of suffering such a terrible death was more than enough to make him check every meter of ground ahead of him. They were almost at the hut, and they stopped. Still nothing, and then Talley fell, stumbling to avoid a deep hole with wisps of yellow toxin swirling at the base. Jesse couldn’t stop him this time, and he spiraled to the ground as his leg gave out completely. The Indian started to help him back up. At the same moment, Hafiz stepped into view, his assault rifle lined up on them. He advanced steadily, smiling his insane grin.

“I told you, Commander Talley, you’d never leave Syria alive. I’ve been watching you for the last few minutes. How did you think you could beat me? A wounded man, and a primitive American like this one?”

He felt Jesse tense. Hafiz kept coming.

“Nothing to say before you die?” He giggled again. It was almost a squeak. “You think I don’t know how fear can affect men? I’ve seen it too many times.” He continued to walk nearer. “That’s what you’re feeling now, the dread, the terror that turns your guts to jelly. Think of the pain, the awful, searing pain as my bullets tear into you, and then the long, slow slide into hell. Nothing to say?”

He worked to summon up a look of contempt. “Only that you’re a cowardly piece of shit, Hafiz. Too frightened to do your own dirty work, to stand in front of man and kill him as you stare into his eyes. You haven’t got the guts, not without someone to do it for you.”

The Syrian’s expression darkened. “Is that what you think? Perhaps you’ll change your mind before you die.” He aimed the rifle at a point where he could shoot both men in a fraction of a second. “Get down on your knees, both of you.”

“Do as he says, Talley murmured. “We’ll be okay.”

They both knelt down.

Another giggle. “You disappoint me, infidel. You’re too scared to fight; just a disgusting coward when you know your time is up. I thought at the very least you’d go down fighting like a man, but you’re nothing, neither of you. I only wish I could take you back to the special cell I have at Third Corps headquarters. I’d show you what real pain is, but this will have to do.”

He stepped nearer. "Any last requests?" he sneered.

"Only that you have the guts to do this face-to-face," Talley repeated. "If I'm going to die, I'd hate it to be at the hands of a yellow piece of Arab scum."

At first, Hafiz looked puzzled, but he finally nodded. "I do not understand the reasoning of you Westerners, but it is no problem. If that's the way you want it, I'm more than happy to oblige."

They watched him take the last five steps until he was right in front of them, only a meter away. He was concentrating hard, directing all of his hate, his passion, and his lust for revenge on the two soldiers kneeling in front of him. The urge was too much for him. It overcame his normal caution, and he walked right into the trap Talley had set for him, the hole with the remnants of CX9 swirling in the bottom. He screamed and shouted curses as he went in, but he recovered quickly and still crouched half in and half out of the hole. He managed to cover them with his rifle.