OUTCAST Ops: African Firestorm

CHAPTER FORTY

The drop was only ten feet, but Tanner had enough time to bring his feet together and bend his knees before he hit the deck, allowing his legs to absorb the landing. As soon as he hit, he dropped and rolled to his left. The severed rope landed on top of him like a live snake that threatened to entangle him.

He shoved the rope off and looked up to see the Hip, smoke pouring out of the crew compartment. The helicopter started to spin, losing altitude and gaining speed as it dropped — toward him.

Strong hands grabbed Tanner by the vest and dragged him toward the portside containers. After a couple of attempts, Tanner managed to get his feet under him and grab whoever had him to haul himself the rest of the way. Something clipped his heels, knocking him off balance again, but he quickly regained it. As he stood, he heard gunfire erupt from behind.

Sparks popped from the containers near Tanner's head. He ducked and spun, only to see Danielle and Dante open fire on an armed terrorist in the shadow of the superstructure, their MP5s’ flash suppressors cutting the muzzle flash to near nothing. Bloody from neck to groin, the terrorist toppled over.

"Move!" Tanner darted around Stephen and Liam. "Helo's coming down!" He glanced back in time to see the Hip's rotor blades strike the superstructure, sending sparks arcing across the semi-darkness. The helicopter's tail struck the container stack with enough force to crumple it, the sound reminding Tanner of an empty beer can being crushed. With a screech, the rotors began to disintegrate from the superstructure's contact, bits of rotor blades sheering off and becoming shrapnel.

With his team diving for cover, Tanner turned and ducked under a support beam and threw himself into the shadow of a steel box, making himself as small a target as possible. The sound of the Hip slamming into the deck overwhelmed all other noise. He felt the impact reverberate through the steel deck and then a rain of shrapnel peppered his cover.

Tanner rolled to his feet and found the team rising from cover into defensive crouches, their HKs covering both forward and aft.

Liam look over at him. "You okay?"

"So far. Everyone else?" Everyone chimed in they were unhurt.

He looked back at the wreckage. The Hip was on the deck only twenty feet away, its nose wedged at the base of the superstructure where it met the deck. The tail boom stuck straight up into the air, scraping the container sides and bending behind the cargo compartment. The rotors were ragged stumps slowly spinning down. Debris was everywhere, pieces of rotor buried in the superstructure, containers, the deck and everywhere else, including pieces that punched holes into the box he'd been hiding behind. A smoky haze settled over the dead aircraft.

Madar was slumped across his machine gun, blood dripping from the barrel. Tanner peered intently at the wreckage, but the smoke made it difficult to see either Axiam or Geedi.

Gunfire clapped from behind him and Tanner forgot about the helicopter and its occupants. Liam and Dante were already returning fire.

"OUTCAST to Javelin. We're down. Repeat, we are down.”

"Any casualties?" Javelin’s transmission included the thunder of gunfire in the background.

"Not among the ground team. Don't know the crew's status, though, and our transport's not going anywhere."

"Copy, OUTCAST." The bright flash and loud pop of a flash-bang grenade going off toward the bow marked Javelin's location. "Looks like we've got their attention. Can you move in on the eggs?"

"On our way. OUTCAST out."

Tanner stepped over to Dante and tapped him on the shoulder. The Former Secret Service man stepped back. Tanner moved forward and cautiously peered around the container. The NVGs showed him that the deck between the rail and the closest containers was dark and narrow, with more containers overhead giving the deck an enclosed feeling. There were several boxes and crates in the center of the deck, near the first opening by one of the missiles.

Through his night vision goggles, Tanner could see a group of ICA gunmen crouched behind the crates, and the bodies of a couple more sprawled much closer. He estimated a hundred and fifty feet between their position and that of the enemy, with limited cover and no space to duck and weave.

"That's a kill box," Liam said softly. "Rushing that would be suicide."

"Agreed." Tanner stepped back and observed the still smoking Hip. He noticed several cables on the ground. He traced the cables with his eyes — across the deck, up the side of the superstructure and into the smoke at the top of the superstructure. The other end of the cables lead into the container stack. He tapped Liam on the shoulder. "We're not going that way."

When the former SEAL turned, Tanner motioned to the cables. "We're going this way."

"What are we going to do?"

He motioned toward the stack of containers. "Take the high ground."

"Understood."

They crept across the open deck toward the smoldering Hip. As they reached the downed helicopter, someone dropped out of the cargo bay, staggered slightly and tried to raise an AK-47 at them.

Stephen reacted first. "Axiam — it's us!"

The pilot shook his head and lowered his weapon. His face was bloody from cuts and he moved stiffly. "What did I miss?"

"A nasty crash," Tanner answered. "Your cousins?"

"Dead. I'm in the mood for a few scalps."

"Can you climb?"

The Somali spat onto the deck. "Yeah."

Tanner motioned to the containers. "We need to get on top of these."

They assessed the large steel frame holding the containers in place. At length, Dante pointed at a ladder near the bent tail boom of the helicopter. "Over there. We can climb onto that shorter stack over on the starboard side."

Tanner led the way.

They followed the cables across the deck to the frame holding the containers in place. The frame was fitted with a catwalk accessible by ladder. Tanner climbed up first, followed by the rest of the team.

Liam stayed at the corner of the container stack. Every few seconds, he leaned around the corner and triggered a short burst in the direction of the ICA barricade. After the fourth time, he lobbed a smoke grenade at the barricade and fired one last sustained volley before turning and racing for the ladder. Gunfire erupted from behind him, but none of the bullets found their target.

The upper part of the superstructure was fully alight, looking in Tanner's mind like an ancient lighthouse shining a beacon on dark seas. The odor of smoke grew stronger while the firelight drove the darkness around it back. The catwalk hung twelve feet above the deck, making it even with the bottom of the second row of containers. Most of the stack was three and four containers high, but a single stack consisted of only two containers.

Using Axiam's AK-47 as a platform, Tanner and Axiam lifted Stephen high enough for him to climb onto the container's roof. Axiam and Dante followed by the same method, while Naomi and Danielle were lifted together by Liam and Tanner. Using the locking bars, the last two OUTCASTs climbed up high enough so they could be pulled onto the container's roof.

The cables ran along the top of the container and off to one side before rising up the side of another container in front of them and disappearing into the darkness of its shadow. The team moved quickly down to the next container. The rectangular metal boxes rose up on three sides, making the area even darker. The gunfire from the stern echoed among the stacks, mixing with explosions, shouts, and screams.

At the end of the container they repeated the process, but with Tanner taking the lead and Stephen and Liam lifting him up. As Tanner reached out for a handhold on the container's roof, movement out of the shadows caught his attention. He grabbed the container's locking bar with his left hand, his right gripping his HK SOCOM pistol. He ducked as a hail of bullets from an AK-47 ripped into the container above his head.

He rose high enough to see over the top of the container and fired twice, both rounds striking the enemy with enough force to knock him backwards.

Tanner hauled himself onto the roof, rolled to his left and came up on one knee, his pistol pointed at the other end of the container. He saw the first ICA thug ten feet in front of him and to his left, but there was a second terrorist only fifteen feet away and to his right. Both were swinging their weapons toward him.

Tanner fired first, two rounds into the closer target's central mass. The gunman rocked back, his AK-47 flying away. He spun into the side of a container and slid down.

Before Tanner could take aim at the second target, two more shots rang out. The second terrorist staggered but didn't go down. Tanner then fired twice more, until the man's legs folded and he fell over.

Naomi scrambled onto the container, her own pistol out. "Clear.”

"Thanks," Tanner said.

"De nada." She flashed him a smile.

Stephen was up next, then Danielle. Once Axiam arrived, Tanner started searching the bodies for extra magazines while Stephen scavenged a radio from one of the dead terrorists.

Ahead of them, Tanner could see another container beyond the one they were standing on and beyond that, the flapping of a tarp and a few lights that signaled the enemy's location.

"Think they heard us?" Liam asked in a low voice.

"Don't think so," Tanner said. "Too much gunfire going on.” He raised his radio to his lips.

“Javelin, status?"

"Slow," the SEAL commander returned. "They're dug in like ticks on a hound dog. But Javelin Two and Three say what's left of the stern is secured."

"We're near the first nuke. We have our bird's pilot with us. He's a Somali jarhead, and one of the good guys."

"A Somali jarhead?"

"Yeah. We'll keep him with us. Have Javelin Two and Three move up to support, but don't go inside the superstructure — it's full of smoke."

"Copy, OUTCAST. I'm sending Three portside and Two starboard. ETA, one minute."

"Copy Javelin. OUTCAST out."

Using hand signals, Tanner directed the team to start moving toward the other end of the container. They quick-walked the length of the transport structure, weapons up and ready. A four-foot gap separated one container from the next in line, and they could see light up ahead of them.

They leapt across the gap easily and pressed forward. Halfway along the new container, the radio Stephen had picked up came alive with rapid-fire Arabic. The three stopped and listened until Stephen translated for them.

"It's the man in charge. He's ordering his men to get clear of the blast zone and to hold the ‘infidels’ for another minute." His expression became grim. "He's going to fire one of the missiles.”