Chapter 12
John
08-11-2022
5 seconds after Chapter 9
John stood up and looked at the box. A yellow glow reflected on the open lid, coming from whatever it was that was inside. Behind him, Mike closed Liam's eyes. The smell of burnt flesh hung in the chamber. John walked towards the dreaded container and looked inside. There were six cell-like cases. They were transparent, except for the metal frame which held the thick glass-like material in place. They held a liquid which glowed a bright shining yellow. It was almost as if it was molten gold, except for the fact that it was an actual light source, instead of a reflecting metal.
John grabbed one. He wore tight leather gloves around his hands, originally to protect them against the cold, so he did not have to be cautious. He turned towards Mike.
'I think we have our requested item, whatever this thing is. Did Liam have a pouch or anything?'
Mike unclicked a plastic belt around Liam's waist, then pulled a pouch bag from under Liam's body and held it up silently. John took it from him and put the small metal container inside.
'Could it be radioactive?' asked Mike.
'Nah, we would have seen warnings.'
John grabbed Liam's GPS tracker. The forces on the ground needed to know where they would land later, to pick them up.
'Mike, take Liam's chute as well.'
The two men carried on alone, and went over to the secondary and personal objective of this mission. Mike carrying Liam's bag and John carrying his pouch and rifle, they left the room and walked to the set of metal stairs. By the looks of it, there was no silent alarm. There was no-one on the stairs either. John checked the chart at the stairs, on which all the decks and their uses were displayed. The personnel quarters were two decks below their position.
Of course, personnel quarters and torture chambers were two very different things, but other than the storage decks, it was the best shot the two men could give. They descended further down. There was no-one to cross their path for now, but it was bound to happen on the quarters deck. If that moment would come, John would honestly not know what to do.
The corridors were of a descent width. It wasn't the type of corridor which would usually be found on a naval ship. Instead of the claustrophobically narrow and dull corridors which one would find on there, these corridors were wider, taller, more pleasant, and even artistically used. They were wide enough for three people to stand next to each other with ease. As they jogged through the corridor under the pressure of time, they passed a Russian crewman who was spraying graffiti on the wall of the corridor. No-one stopped the man either, so it seemed to be allowed. The two men walked in single file to stay out of everyone's way and avoid contact. It was strange how they were able to hide in plain sight. However, everything would change when someone would find the two bodies on the storage deck, and it was only a matter of time before that would happen.
When they reached what seemed to be the end of the deck, after 15 minutes of walking in a straight line, John was both relieved and unsettled when the corridors became darker, less cheerful and eerily quiet. It was the kind of atmosphere that reminded both men of their torture chambers. This had to be it. They took the left and walked into the badly lit corridor. The air was cold and humid, much like what John remembered. Instead of the light-looking doors of the chambers for crewmen and soldiers, these doors were reinforced. More and more indications that John and Mike were in the right place. John held his rifle tightly and in suspense. Visiting such an atmosphere once more did not do him any good at all. A heavy clunk sounded, and then the crunching of rusty metal bars and gears shifting into motion, as the lock of one of the doors, similar to the ones of the storage units, started to give way by someone on the inside. John held the rifle up and aimed down the scope. Then, a quick change of mind. He turned and signalled Mike. Mike nodded in both an agreeing and confirmative manner.
The heavy, steel door opened slowly. John took his combat knife from his belt. Holding his own silenced rifle in one hand, Liam's rifle slung over his shoulder, and combat knife drawn in the other hand, he launched himself at the guard who emerged from the doorway. Both men smashed against the steel door. Before the confused and overthrown guard could cry out for help, the steel blade which John wielded penetrated his throat, slit his windpipe open and tore apart the vocal cords. Mike turned into the doorway and found a second petrified soldier, who managed only to stutter an empty prayer before receiving three bullets in his chest. He had been unarmed. John and Mike entered the even darker chamber and saw the silhouette of a man, chained in the middle of the room.
'Mike, look for the lights.'
They had hit the jackpot. Even if this wasn't Rob or Mason, it was still a POW to free.
Suddenly, the chamber was filled with bright light. There was a large set of lamps attached to the ceiling. John went over to the man's front. His entire body was calmed with an amazing sense of relief as he recognized the man's face.
'Rob! Oh my god man!' he exclaimed.
Mike was already busy with cuffs to the chains. There wasn't anything John or Mike could give Robert, but the man was nonetheless filled with joy. As soon as he was out of his chains, Robert leapt into John's arms and sobbed frantically. John held his friend tightly. Robert's skin was as cold as the steel which surrounded him. He would have to go through the same agony which John had to go through; standing in the cold wind at a high altitude, almost freezing to death. After Robert had released his tears of horror in John's arms, he ran to Mike and also threw his arms around him in silence. Mike wasn't very comfortable with the entire concept of even being touched by another human being, and always avoided contact with people. He stood stiffly and paralyzed with Robert wrapped around him. He awkwardly patted Robert's back.
'You're safe now, bud.'
Mike looked around the room for anything useful. There was a small table. A bottle of water stood on it. John gave it to Robert, who needed it most. The rifle of the second guard rested against the steel wall of the chamber on the other side. Robert had already received Liam's rifle and parachute pack. Mike took the rifle for Mason and stood guard outside the door. They had gone unnoticed and without raising the alert for now. A little further into the corridor, there was another door. The three men lined up next to it. John handed his rifle to Mike and unlocked the door. When the door was unlocked, he pulled it open slightly. Voices came from inside, speaking in Russian.
Mike handed John a flash-bang hand grenade. The name described the function of this weapon. When discharged, this grenade would release such a bright light that anyone who looked in its direction could be blinded for more than 10 seconds. As well as that, it also released a bang which was elevated to a frequency which was vulnerable for the human hearing, and could deafen someone temporarily, but not permanently. It was a non-lethal grenade, usually used in riots and hostage situations.
John removed the safety pin from the grenade. He loosened his grip on the lever, and the click that sounded confirmed that the grenade was now live. John threw the grenade into the room and shoved the door shut. Mike handed him his rifle. The bang sounded. John pulled the door open and the three men went inside. This time, it was far more noisy. At least the guards were still caught completely off guard. John fired three bullets into the chest of one and Mike fired one clean shot through the head of the other. Mike went back to stand guard in the corridor as John and Rob approached their next rescue. This man was unfortunately a stranger, and not Mason. John banged furiously against the steel wall with his hand as Rob went to loosen the cuffs.
'Do you speak English?' asked Rob.
'Yes. Are you from the UNE force?' replied the man. He had a flat accent. Perhaps Dutch or German.
'Yeah, we're here to take you home,' said Rob.
'Captain Cartera, 2nd Air Force division.'
'Captain? 2nd division? Holy shit.' John whispered a little too loud.
When the cuffs clinked open, John and Rob saluted the captain as he stood up from the ground. He too was in the same overall as John had been in.
'First Sergeant John Farsworth, 47th Infantry division, Hotel squad,' said John.
'Private First Class Robert Dangero, same squad,' added Rob.
Captain Cartera nodded towards Mike, who still stood watch outside the chamber, keeping a careful eye on the corridor. 'Who's he?'
'Private First Class Michael Ensworth, same squad,' answered John.
'Private Dangero, you don't seem to be as well-equipped as your squad,' said the captain.
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John answered for Rob. 'We actually came to this part of the ship to rescue my own squad, sir. Rob has been in the chamber further down this corridor. We were looking for the fourth and final squad member, when we stumbled upon you instead.'
'I see. Well, continue your rescue party, sergeant. I won't be taking over this mission from you, as I have to regain my strength.'
John was relieved to hear that. He was afraid that the higher ranking officer would take over the mission, as would usually be the case in a scenario such as this. The captain turned out to be a respectable and compassionate man.
They exited the chamber. The captain had taken the rifle of one of the guards, which was not equipped with a silencer, and Rob had passed him the half-empty bottle of water. They went down the corridor. There was only one more door remaining in the dark corridor. This must be so far down the end of the ship, that no-one bothered to come here, unless they were stationed in one of the chambers. They had not had contact yet with any enemy who just happened to wander into the corridor. They went through the same procedure again. John unlocked the door. When he pulled the door open slightly, there was no sound of voices. There was only the breathing of the three men beside him, and the very soft rumbling of the engines, far below them.
John pulled the door open a little more and took his rifle back. They entered the chamber with quick speed and checked the room. Mike switched the lights on. What they encountered looked similar to the crime scene of a horror movie. One of the guards lay on his back, behind the metal plate on which the prisoner would usually reside. One of the steel handcuffs, from which the brace-pen had been torn, rested in his blood-gushed throat. The sharp and bloodied end of the brace-pen protruded from the top of the man's head. The other trail of blood was smeared thickly across the wall and glistened in the light of the lamps. It led to the body of the second guard, which lay naked against the wall in an unnatural position. The prisoner clothes, also drenched in blood, lay on a small pile next to the body. His rifle was taken as well.
'Could Mason have done this?' asked Rob.
'I don't know, but he is the kind of guy who would do anything to get out of confinement,' replied John.
'We don't have a lot of time. We have to get back to the top deck. Whoever this was, he'll have to find a way out on his own,' said Mike. He was right. They were running out of time, and they already had the valuable cargo, Rob and a captain from a famously elite division of the Air Force.
They walked through the dark corridor with a fast pace. As they turned into the well-lit corridor which went from one end of the ship to the other, John knew that things wouldn't go down as easily anymore. Perhaps there was still a way to do this properly, and without raising too much attention. Rob gave his rifle to John, and captain Cartera gave his rifle to make. Both men slung the spare rifles onto their backs. Rob held his hands over each other behind his back, and so did the captain. John pushed Rob forwards and Mike pushed the captain. In this manner, they travelled slowly down the corridor. They passed two sets of stairs before reaching the one from which they had come. The men had received a few curious, weird and perplexed looks, but were not halted or stopped along the way. They went up the stairs, ascending through the ship towards the top deck. There was an elevator somewhere, but John couldn't bother to try and find it. As they ascended another flight of stairs, one of the many, they were joined by a Russian soldier, who silently walked with them to their destination. The man did not speak, but he just followed wherever they were going. After three flights of stairs, John had had enough of the soldier working on his nerves. He turned around and aimed the rifle, almost pulling the trigger, when he recognized the man's eyes. There was only one pair of eyes that had that same crazy look in them.
'Mason!?' John exclaimed.
The man had also raised his rifle with fast reflex.
'John!?'Mason's voice was clearly definable and confirmed John's suspicion.
John and Mason flew each other in the arms, both dropping their weapons to the floor. Rob, Mike and the captain simply stared at the two men, a little perplexed.
'So this is your fourth man?' asked the captain.
'Yes, this is Corporal Haggard. What were you doing, Mason?'
'Well I recognized Rob and thought that you were just some Russian blokes, taking him to his execution or something. I would have walked with you and then smoke you when you weren't looking.'
'Brilliant as ever,' grinned Robert.
The men did not have much time to catch up on things. Time was running out, and they had to move fast. In their rush, they had become clumsy with the act of a prisoner escort. When they reached the top deck, a Russian soldier held John and addressed the "escort". Mason raised his rifle and fired a bullet into the soldier's throat. The gunfire cracked loudly and echoed through the steel shaft of the staircases.
'Goddammit Mason! We have silencers!'
Seconds later, the alarm sirens came into life and put everyone on the entire ship on high alert. The men ran as fast as they could down the corridor which led to the steel doors for the entrance of the runway. The steel doors opened before they reached them and two soldiers came through. Before they could interpret what the intentions of the group was, those were made clear with more gunfire. As they ran onto the runway, where the temperature was below freezing point, John pressed a button on the GPS tracker which sent the signal to indicate that they would be jumping off within a limited amount of time. On the ground, after receiving this signal, troops would stop following the tracker and make preparations for a landing.
'John, is there some kind of village or city beneath us, do you think!?' shouted Mason over the loud wind and sirens.
'I don't know, why!?' shouted John as they ran to the edge of the ship as fast as possible.
When they reached the edge of the ship, Mason took something out of his pocket. John's eyes widened.
'What the fuck is that!?' John asked, even though he knew full-well that it was a detonator for explosives.
'What do you think I've been doing in that time!?'
When the captain was strapped to Mike and Mason was strapped to John, Mason asked again. This time, to the captain.
'Sir, you want this fucker down!?'
The captain looked at Mason confusedly. 'Whaat!?'
Mason nodded. 'Alright!'
Without further warning, he flicked the cover off and pressed the button. The signal was sent over a separate frequency and activated 2 C4 explosives, which he had carefully planted next to a whole storage facility of fuel and ammunition.
The first blast sounded, followed by a heavy shock. The men didn't want to risk anything and jumped off the edge. Mason laughed hysterically on the way down. The captain and Mike were below Mason and John, and Rob was at the very top. Another, much louder, blast sounded. A large piece of metal debris shot past them towards the ground, missing John by only a metre.
'Holy shit!'
Red smoke rose from a location on the ground, close to their position now.
John banked left and steered towards the smoke. He opened the chute and looked up. He saw Rob, who also opened his chute. Far above him, there was a large wall of black smoke and raining debris. Below them, Mike and the captain also opened their chute.
Later, they landed on the site. Mike and the captain, both trained for a jump, landed perfectly. Whilst John was briefed on how to land, Mason didn't have a clue. They tumbled with a low speed onto the ground. Rob had no briefing and no training. It was a miracle that he even reached the site, but his landing was far from good. With full speed and a loose body, he let himself scrape over the ground and come to an end. It was another, smaller grass field. However, all there was to be found were two jeeps and a truck, parked on a dirt road 30 metres away from the clearing.
Rob, captain Cartera and Mason were immediately taken to the truck to be taken into treatment. John and Mike were pushed into one of the jeeps to be taken to HQ with urgency. As John looked back, all he saw a black wall of smoke and fire raining from the sky, destroying whatever was there. The large vessel itself came crashing down. With an enormous blast which trembled the car, it crashed against the side of the closest mountain. The shockwave of the explosion spat up the dust from the earth and shook the car for a brief second. The driver started the engine and the two men shot off, past the truck, without being able to say goodbye to their rescued friends.