RED HAZE: A Werewolf Story for the 21st Century (12 page)

“Red Haze, we have a car waiting two streets down. Your colleague will guide you, as usual.”

“Thank you Control.”

Just a few seconds later, Nick Lucas’s voice entered Piper’s earpiece. “Okay, take the left from outside the house, then….”

Piper wasn’t listening. “SHIT!” he yelled, the hairs on the back of his neck now fully rigid.

The Sniper Rifle’s optical sight zeroed in. Check wind-speed, thought Gerhard, now, distance to target, yes, perfect! Now is the time! The whimpering man’s head was clearly magnified. It would smash open like an over-ripe melon. “Now you traitor,” whispered Gerhard Maas, “kiss the fucking birdie!”

To Ash Piper, the next thirty seconds or so seemed to move in slow motion, the wolf’s hearing deftly locating the bullet leaving the barrel and the hiss of air moving rapidly towards him. Piper looked around. Nothing! Damn well nothing! Then he heard the sickening, squelching crack of an egg splitting open. “FUCK!” he yelled, “SNIPER, GET DOWN!” Now, for Ash Piper, chaos and confusion once again reigned supreme.

Michael De Groot’s head had exploded, his skull and brain tissue splattering across the broken brick and plaster of the front of the house, the Dutch Rapid Response Team members quickly taking cover. Nothing was worse in time of war thought Piper, than being out in the open with a sniper at large. Quickly utilising the wolf’s senses, Piper rolled to the right taking cover by a car, the USP held tightly in a two handed grip. “Just where the hell are you, you bastard?” he whispered.

Across the canal, high up on the roof of one of many houses, Gerhard Maas sniggered and zeroed in his sniper rifle’s scope once again. There, he thought, the man with dark blonde hair! A new target, he must kill him before he made his escape. “Your turn,” he whispered, “for the Fuhrer!” Instantly Gerhard’s shoulder jolted back as another round left the rifle’s chamber, the bullet speeding rapidly towards Ash Piper’s skull.

8

RED LIGHTS…RED HAZE

To Ashley Piper and the wolf inside him, the oncoming projectile immediately brought about a sense of inner terror. DANGER, MOVE, QUICKLY! Piper did so, his body dropping and rolling swiftly to the right, moving like no ordinary human being’s. Then came the cracking sound behind him, the bullet shattering plaster and brick. NOW, QUICKLY, SEEK BETTER COVER! Piper leapt up and ran to another nearby vehicle, his heart pounding, his senses fully adrenalised. “WE NEED SUPPRESSING FIRE,” he yelled to the eight newly arrived, body armoured men nearby. “THE HOUSE ACROSS THE CANAL,” Piper pointed, “WITH GREEN PAINTED GUTTERING! THE SNIPER’S ON THE ROOF!”

Sergeant Jan Vinke of the BBE, Dutch Counter Terrorist Unit spoke through his Com-Link, his voice calm, assertive, “you heard the man, suppressing fire!” Weapons were raised and spat lead. People screamed and ran.

Keeping low, Piper ran across to the Sergeant whilst speaking directly to CEATA Headquarters, “Red Haze to Control.”

“We hear you Red Haze.” Colonel Mann’s lowered tone of voice confirmed his grave concern at this new turn of events.

“Link my communication directly with all the BBE team members, quickly!”

“You got it Red Haze!” With his glasses reflecting the bright colouring of the screen in front of him, Nick Lucas typed quickly. “Okay…you’re through! The team’s leader is Sergeant Jan Vinke.”

Piper was now at the Sergeant’s side, his clothing, face and hair still covered in plaster dust from the assault on the Safehouse, the USP gripped tightly as a hail of suppressing machine gun fire scythed across the canal. He spoke briskly, “Sergeant, we need this bastard alive. Get the choppers down. I want a marksman on each one. We shoot to maim, not to kill. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” Sergeant Vinke nodded his helmeted head in agreement. “From now on,” Piper continued, “you follow mine and a colleague’s instructions.” Again, came the nodding of the head.

“Alpha One, pick up!” As the chaotic maelstrom of suppressing gunfire continued, Vinke spoke to the first helicopter pilot, now hovering some five hundred metres above the rooftops.

“Affirmative”. The AH-6 turned smoothly to the right, its rotors whirring like a demented insect.

“CHOPPER LANDING, CEASE FIRE!” The Dutch BBE troopers were ready!

Ready for the chase of their lives!

For those same few minutes, Gerhard Maas felt a sickening feeling in his stomach. With plaster, brickwork and mortar showering him from the incoming firepower from across the canal, he dropped his sniper rifle, his breathing heavy, erratic. Fucking shit, he thought, gazing up at the AH-6 descending over to his right, his thinking now in turmoil. How could his target have moved like that? The bullet was straight on target! He should be dead, but, the way he moved, no…it’s not possible, he can’t be… ONE OF THEM!

Keeping low, Gerhard crawled quickly to the fire escape ladder set to the rear of the building, his body now shaking with both adrenaline and fear. Shit, he thought, I’ve got to get away…fast! Jochen will be waiting for me, somewhere!

As the German Neo Nazi gripped the rungs of the ladder and began sliding down to ground level, the look on his face rapidly grew to one of intense hatred and loathing. One thing is for certain, he thought, THE SHITS WON’T TAKE ME ALIVE!

“Nick, we need your help!” There was panic all around as Piper spoke to his CEATA colleague.

“No problem Red Haze, I’m already monitoring the inner section of the city. Your man is running like crazy. Get your unit across the canal and split into two groups, I’ll guide you to him.”

“Affirmative!” Piper quickly gave instructions as both AH-6 helicopters, codenamed Alpha One and Two took to the air, a marksman on each. “OKAY, LET’S MOVE!” With Nick carefully, continuously relaying information, Piper and the BBE troopers ran across the small canal bridge, their weapons reloaded and ready for further use. “Unit Two, we split from here,” he ordered, his powerful voice distinct and commanding, “follow the directional orders from our control centre. Do you copy?”

“Unit Two Leader, affirmative.”

“GET OUT OF THE WAY, OUT OF THE WAY!” shouted Sergeant Vinke, the general public running everywhere, screaming and shouting in sheer panic.

There are far too many people thought Piper, the bastard will target them, I know it! “Okay, you need to turn right, your man is heading towards the Red Light district,” Nick’s instructions were relayed with precision, “Unit Two, turn right, then sharp left…”

“Affirmative!” The gruff voice of the second unit leader crackled through the loudspeakers in CEATA’s Communications Room, his panting breath heard clearly amidst the background sounds of panicking Amsterdamers.

Worriedly, Charles Mann looked quickly across at Maurice Hertschell whose gaze was focused intently on the screen in front of him. “A pincer movement,” he said, “they’ll cut him off around the Red Light area.”

The Commander nodded, his eyes awash with troubled thoughts, for like Ash Piper now in combat in Amsterdam, he knew the terrorist could cause mayhem at any time. And that was exactly what Gerhard Maas intended to do!

“HEY, YOU,” Maas shouted in perfect English, “YOU FUCKING BLACK SCUM!”

The dark skinned man, handing out leaflets turned quickly as the noise and commotion grew nearer. “Hey man, what the hell…” his eyes opened in stark terror! The blonde haired man running down the busy, crowded street toward him had a gun, and it was pointing straight at him.

A petrified woman’s voice swiftly started the panic. “He’s got a gun. OH MY GOD! HE’S GOT A GUN!”

“STINKING, FUCKING UNTERMENSCHEN!” Gerhard Maas opened up with his SIG P226 handgun, the dark skinned man never standing a chance as his body exploded in a hideous pelting of red hot ammunition. But that was exactly what Gerhard wanted.

It was time for terror!

The man screamed in agony as his bullet-ridden body hurled backwards, crashing through a window where a scantily clad, dark-skinned lady sat behind the pane. She screamed! Further bullets passed through the man, scything into her body, cutting the petrified woman down like corn in a tornado as blood and shards of glass flew into the air.

Gerhard kept running, firing indiscriminately across the windows of the Red Light District, his targets being chosen carefully, for most were foreign prostitutes. More Untermenshen! The slaughter was brutal and shocking. Still screaming obscenities, Gerhard deftly changed his clip. His weapons were working well. Not just the SIG, but terror itself! “GET OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY,” he yelled, his body high on adrenaline, his eyes full of hatred, “FUCKING MOVE, YOU STINKING, PISS RIDDEN, FILTH!” Chairs crashed to the floor as people screamed, leaping into doorways, dropping to the floor, rolling on the ground, anything to escape the murderous mayhem now enveloping them.

“The bastard’s opening fire on innocents,” Nick’s voice was panic stricken.

Piper and the BBE troopers were moving quickly, and more importantly, gaining ground. For Piper himself there was no loss of stamina, no feeling of fatigue as he continued running, for at this very distinct moment in time there was only the feeling of the hunt, and the smell of the prey.

“He’s causing chaos Red Haze; you have to get to him, quickly!” Charles Mann’s icy voice intervened through Piper’s Com-link.

“THIS IS ALPHA TWO, I HAVE THE TARGET! I CAN TAKE HIM OUT RIGHT NOW, OVER!” Just over seven hundred metres in the air, the BBE marksman, perched on the right outside rung of the second AH-6, spoke clearly through his headset. “I REQUIRE CONFIRMATION CONTROL OR I’LL LOSE THE CHANCE, DO I TAKE THE SHOT?”

“NO!” Piper’s voice cut loudly through the sniper’s earpiece, “DO NOT ENGAGE ALPHA TWO! WE NEED HIM ALIVE; CAN YOU TAKE A WOUND SHOT, OVER?”

“THAT’S A NEGATIVE, ONLY CLEAR FOR THE HEAD. SHIT! I’VE LOST THE CHANCE, REPEAT, LOST THE CHANCE! HE’S MOVED DOWN A BACK STREET. OVER!”

Gerhard Maas sniggered to himself. How he loved the feeling of power, of terror, to be the one in charge of life and death! But now police sirens were seemingly everywhere, and right behind him, the man who had cheated death. No, he wouldn’t be taken alive, Jochen could not help him, he knew it; the situation was far too volatile. He would take them on alone, in the true spirit of his training, for his loyalty and honour. In the courageous traditions of the Leibstandarte, Das Reich, Totenkopf and Wiking, he would bring the war forward, to help further the Fuhrer’s cause. Yes! It was time for more bloodletting! Cafés with suitable targets, THE UNTERMENSCHEN!

Still running swiftly, Gerhard turned a corner out of the Red Light area. There, he thought, a wretched, devilish smile sitting plainly on his face…plenty of cafés!

Whilst crossing the SIG into his left hand, running directly towards his next targets, the hate filled German reached into his jacket and felt three small, metallic, bulbous objects. He grasped one, and pulled it out.

A frag grenade!

Gerhard cursed aloud, “FUCK YOU ALL!”  Suddenly, one of the AH-6s flew over him. Cunningly, he stuck a two-fingered V sign up at the sniper and leapt out of view, running down another panic ridden, tourist filled street, opening fire with the SIG.

Further screams stifled the air as yet more panic-stricken people leapt for cover and safety as further innocent lives became lost in a welter of bloody mayhem. But Gerhard Maas didn’t care, so long as he targeted correctly. The dark skinned people first, the stinking Untermenschen! They must suffer as much as possible… before he did!

The internet café was busy, the small throng of people, mostly dark skinned, enjoying a relaxing time sat at the laptop and newspaper laden tables. Then they noticed the sounds in the distance and the helicopters flying low overhead. Many walked up to the windows and the doorway, wondering was what going on!

That was their mistake. Now…they were perfect targets!

“Look, that man’s running straight towards us!” The woman’s voice faltered, her mouth opening wide, ready to scream! The man running towards the café had a small round object in his hand. Instantly there was panic. Yelling fearfully, the people piled into each other, over the chairs and tables, their drinks and food crashing to the floor. “GET OUT! GET OUT! The woman’s voice held a very distinct message.

They were all going to die!

The man was close. He fired straight through the large plate glass window, “DEATH TO THE FUCKING UNTERMENSCHEN!” Pulling the pin from his grenade, Gerhard threw it directly at the Café’s terrified customers. Laughing, he continued to run, the sickening ‘crump’ of a small explosion echoing down the street. The screams from inside the once ornate internet café were terrible. Gerhard’s plan was working. Yes, this would look like reprisals for the detonations, he thought! Standartenfuhrer Bescann would be greatly impressed with his tactics. Yes, he was truly one of the New Totenkopf. He would help with the ridding of the Untermenschen, one way or another. Now, to continue sowing the seeds of hate! Two further targets were required!

“WE HAVE TO TAKE HIM, NOW!” The marksman on Alpha One was in no mood for arguments.

“GOD’S TEETH!” yelled Charles Mann, his fists crashing down on the table in front of him.

“Red Haze to Control!”

“Go ahead.”

“The bastard’s using grenades, he’s clever!” The deep concern in Piper’s voice could be clearly felt in CEATA’s Communications Room. “We have a dilemma Colonel, it’s up to you.”

Charles Mann looked grim, time was running out!

“Colonel, forget taking him alive, you have to kill him!” Jeanette Descard’s piercing eyes bored into her senior officer’s, “HE’S DAMNED WELL MURDERING INNOCENT PEOPLE!”

“FUCKING UNTERMENSCHEN!” Gerhard fired the SIG again as further shards of wickedly sharp glass splintered everywhere, causing further screams as blood showered across another café. “REVENGE FOR THE WHITE PEOPLES OF EUROPE,” yelled the Neo Nazi. Once again, the young German had targeted ethnics, the second grenade exploding, killing another nine innocent people with many more injured.

“I CAN TAKE HIM, I CAN TAKE HIM!” The BBE marksman on Alpha One had the terrorist in his sights, his finger pressuring his rifle’s trigger.

“DO IT!” Charles Mann yelled the order for a lethal takedown.

But Gerhard Maas, now running towards the docks, had other ideas. He swirled round, raising the SIG at the AH-6 and squeezed the trigger, emptying a full magazine into the hovering helicopter.

“SHIT, WE’RE HIT!” The pilot of the AH-6 clutched his shoulder, a blood curdling whining sound making him grimace with fear, the cockpit’s bulbous dome shattering with the impact of the SIG’s bullets. The engine began faltering, the rotors slowing down as blood oozed across the pilot’s flight suit. Quickly aiming as best as he could, the marksman let loose a round, but his reckless target ran back into the screaming crowds, the bullet narrowly missing a pedestrian. Tilting the helicopter over to the right the pilot of Alpha One, his right arm now covered in blood, tried to keep the AH-6 steady, but it was useless. “HOLD ON, WE’RE GOING DOWN!”