Firestorm: Book III of the Wildfire Saga (32 page)

BOOK: Firestorm: Book III of the Wildfire Saga
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"I'd like to think so…"

Denny sighed.
 
"This is my third trip into town and I only found six people so far…"

A muffled explosion sounded in the distance.
 
More gunfire crackled.
 
McDonnell was giving them hell.

"Well, you haven't met up with your friends again, have you?"

Denny thought about the meeting scheduled for the next night with Anse and Deputy Griswold.
 
"No, not yet.
 
Hopefully they'll be able to bring a lot more than I have."

"Son…you sure you're okay?"

Denny nodded in the darkness.
 
"Yes.
 
I'm just cold and tired.
 
I'll be okay tonight—I think.
 
They're still occupied with George."

"Well, I got news that might cheer you up: I got a hold of some of my HAM buddies.
 
The call went out."

Denny felt a spark of hope flare to life in his chest.
 
"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I put the word out you're raising Old Glory in rebellion against Barron's tyranny.
 
There's a lot of people up here in the hills that don't like what he did to this country.
 
I think we're liable to have help coming before long."

Denny rested his head against the wall closed his eyes.
 
He sighed, then winced when another explosion echoed down the street.
 

Help.
 
What a wonderful idea.
 
If only they get here soon enough.

C
HAPTER
27

Washington, D.C.

The White House.

C
OOPER
WOKE
UP
COUGHING
.
 
He rolled to his side, hacked again, and expected to see a glob of bloody phlegm on the ground.
 
He still didn't quite trust the docs when they assured him Boatner's vaccine made him immune to the flu.

Instead of nasal discharge, he saw his gloved hand encased in a gray dust and bits of rubble.
 
He rolled to his other side and stared in the face of a dead man.
 
Slowly his hearing came back to him in the form of an incessant, distant ringing.
 
The ground vibrated and hands grabbed his shoulders then hauled him to his feet.
 
Cooper blinked and looked up at the ruins of a collapsed building, billowing smoke and fire.
 
The smell of death and battle and fire assaulted his nostrils.

Everything snapped back.
 
Cooper blinked and saw Jax, covered in the same fine gray powder.
 
He looked like a ghost.
 
Cooper saw his lips move but only heard the damn ringing.
 
He shook his head, creating a cloud of dust and pointed to his ear.
 
Jax nodded and shoved a dust-covered M4 at Cooper's chest.
 

Charlie slapped him on the shoulder and pointed.
 
Cooper turned and found their target: The White House.
 
The southwest corner of the West Wing had partially collapsed and rubble from the Eisenhower had spread across the parking lot to pile up against the West Wing.
   

In between the rebar and twisted steel that stuck up out of the rubble lay the broken bodies of men in jackets that read FBI, DEA, ICE, EPA and a host of other alphabet soup agencies.
 
Every now and then Cooper saw the body of a Marine.
 
Through the smoke and tracers on the South Lawn, he spotted a lot more bodies.
 
The Marines continued the advance, breaking wave after wave against the entrenched positions before the White House.

The Cobra circled overhead, picking targets and cutting enemy forces down with its whining turret gun.
 
On the far side of the White House, its twin performed the same grisly task, dodging fire from the ground.
 
As he watched, a point of light emerged from the roof of the White House and streaked across the night sky like a falling star.
 
The Cobra never had a chance.
 
It rained down in pieces on the north side of the White House.

Cooper turned and caught Charlie's attention.
 
Charlie's headset was gone and the left side of his head had been coated in blood and dust.
 
He had a grim set to his face.
 
He nodded at Cooper, pointed at his eyes, then up, holding up four fingers.
 
Four targets on the roof.
 

Cooper nodded and crouched behind a block of granite facade laying in the parking lot.
 
The usual throbbing in his knee blossomed into a full-blown raging inferno of pain at the simple movement.

Only Jax and Charlie were with him.
 
Where the hell are the rest?
 

He pointed at himself and raised a finger.
 
He pointed at Charlie and raised two fingers, and three at Jax.
 
Jax and Charlie looked at each other, then turned back to Cooper.
 
Jax shook his head slowly and looked down, his shoulders hunched, gripping his big M60 like he would snap it in two.
 
Charlie shook his head slowly and drew a line across his neck, then flashed four fingers again.

Swede's dead.

Charlie flashed "5" and "6" with his fingers, then shrugged.

Juice and Maughan are MIA.

Cooper leaned his head back against the granite block and closed his eyes.
 
Brenda's dead.
 
Swede's dead.
 
LT's dead.
 
Tank.
 
My team's dead, Mike's in a coma.
 
Atlanta…how many more are we going to lose?

Brenda
.

Cooper took a moment to remember Brenda.
 
The way the light in the Underground reflected off of her auburn hair made it shine like bronze. He held tightly to the way her green eyes lit up whenever she saw him.

Anger welled up in Cooper's stomach.
 
All of this—everything—the fall of his country, the deaths of his comrades, the deaths of so many brothers in arms and so many senseless deaths of civilians…all of it the Council's fault.
 
And Barron was a part of it.
 
The men who shot at him right now—the men who caused Swede's death were part of it.

The ringleaders were down in the President's secret Bunker under the White House.
 
He dropped the magazine from his M4 and slapped home a fresh one.
 
Cooper ripped back the charging handle and caught Charlie's eye.
 
It was time to root them out.
 

Cooper turned his face and peered over the top of his cover.
 
Almost immediately a chunk of granite exploded just left of his face.
 
He pulled back and cursed, surprised he could hear his own voice again.

"If you got smoke, now's the time to pop it," he said.

Cooper's voice sounded distant, as if he were on the other side of a gym.
 
Charlie nodded and pulled a smoke grenade from his kit.
 
Without any fanfare, he pulled the pin and tossed it over the top of Cooper's granite block.
 
He counted down from three, then nodded.
 

On cue, a thick billowing plume of white smoke roiled over the top of the rubble and enveloped them like a dense fog.
 
Cooper reached up to turn on his night vision and realized his helmet was gone.
 
His gloved hands brushed damp hair.
 
When he pulled his hand back, the dust was streaked with blood.
 
He frowned, then stood and vaulted over the rubble, leading his men into the West Wing.
 

They rushed through the breach and into the Chief of Staff's office.
 
The blonde—the one from the video where Barron died—it was
her
office.
 
He immediately turned left upon entering the room and dropped the man in a suit and tie who appeared behind the executive desk.
 

Charlie rushed over and dropped to a knee, checking for a pulse.
 
Jax moved past Cooper to the door and secured it.
 
Charlie stood and shook his head.
 

Cooper took up a covering position just left of the breach hole and cued his throat mic.
 
"Cutter Actual,
 
Striker Actual.
 
We have gained access to the target, repeat we've gained access to the target."

General Rykker's voice cut through the screams for reinforcements and EVAC.
 
"
Copy that Actual, push forward—don't know how much longer we can hold out.
 
The rogue cells throughout the city are lighting up what's left of our flank.
 
I'm redistributing force allocation to that sector, but I can't guarantee you much more cover.
 
Alpha will breach the East Wing momentarily.
 
You'll have friendlies in the target.
 
Repeat, friendlies in the target
."

Cooper nodded, relieved his hearing had returned enough for him to make out what the General had said.
 
He was sure he wasn't up to full speed, but it would have to do.
 
"Copy that, Actual."

Cooper turned to look at Jax.
 
"We good to go?"

Jax nodded.
 
"It's time to get shit done."

Charlie took up position opposite Jax at the door.
 
"On three…two…one, breach!"
 

Jax pulled the door open and Cooper rushed between the two of them, stepping out into the reception area and turning left.
 
Across the hallway, the nameplate on the door showed the next office belonged to the Deputy Chief of Staff.
 
Cooper waved Jax to the right.
 
The big SEAL kicked in the door to the Presidential Counselor's office and cleared the room.
 

Charlie then leapfrogged past Cooper and checked the first door on the left.
 
It turned out to be a small storeroom full of electronics gear, but otherwise empty.
 

"First floor of the East wing secure!
" called out Alpha's leader.

Cooper ignored the chatter between General Rykker and another squad of Marines about to breach the front door of the White House.
 
He could tell resistance had faltered and felt confident it would only be a matter of time before they took the entire structure.
 
That also meant time was running out to capture the traitors alive.
 

They were in the Bunker and it was time to be a tunnel rat.
 
Cooper had been briefed that two elevators led to the President's nuclear shelter and emergency operations center under the White House.
 
One of which was just down the corridor to the left of his current position, according to his dust-covered forearm screen.
 
The other, smaller one, was in the Oval Office.
 

"Jax, watch that elevator—Charlie with me," Cooper called out.
 

Jax took a position across the hallway from the elevator and covered the north side of the hallway toward the offices of the National Security Advisor and the Vice President.
 
Someone poked their head out of the Vice President's office and was rewarded with a burst from Jax's M60.
 
A hand appeared and fired a pistol blindly.
 

Never taking his weapon off target, Jax waited.
 
Charlie and Cooper crouched, watching.
 
When the shooter stepped out into the corridor a moment later, Jax cut him down.
 

Charlie and Cooper took up positions behind and to the left of Jax, aiming at the elevator.
 
The thick steel door was partially cracked and a thin stream of smoke trickled out at the top.
 
Charlie frowned.
 
"Don't think we're going anywhere in that…"

Cooper moved forward and clicked on his rifle's barrel-mounted flashlight.
 
He aimed down into the gloom of the elevator shaft.
 
Only a few feet below the floor, he saw the top of the elevator covered in debris and wires.
 

"Contact north!" called out Jax before letting loose with a long string of lead.

Charlie added his rifle to the mix and Cooper brought his own weapon to bear on four Secret Service agents in tactical gear who had exited the National Security Advisor's office.
 
They worked their way south down the corridor toward his fireteam.
 
Cooper ignored the rounds impacting the elevator door behind him and zeroed in on the first man to appear through the hazy smoke.
 
He squeezed the trigger and brought another traitor to his knees with a three-round burst.
 
The agent fell forward and his partner stepped over the body without even blinking.

BOOK: Firestorm: Book III of the Wildfire Saga
11.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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