OUTCAST Ops: African Firestorm

CHAPTER SIX

When Liam Reilly had been a SEAL, he had done a number of 'ghost' missions — sneak in, complete the objectives and sneak out without raising the alarm, or even leaving evidence that he or his team had been there. But now, he was frustrated by a ten foot gap that was brightly illuminated and at least half a dozen armed racist assholes only thirty feet away and in full view. Had he been alone, he might have tried it, but not with Stephen and Danielle in tow. He thought through several plans, but rejected each one as impracticable. And there was no telling where those two roaming guards were.

What was really frustrating was that the other half of the team had run into something dangerous — a "Condition Omega" — and his team was stuck unable to complete their mission without having their own Condition Omega.

From his position in the shadow of the stacked shelves, he could see the NFFA members with only the darkness to protect him. He was about to tell the others to retreat when Sledge shouted, "Where are those two Poephols?"

"Don't know," one of the men sitting around the table replied.

"You don't know much of anything, do you, Wit?"

Wit shrugged. "I know enough to break heads, drink beer and find a kut when I need it."

"Why, your hoer's flea collar go bad?" Sledge picked up a radio and snarled into it, "Berg, Carel, where the hell are you two? Answer me!"

"Probably spending some cuddle time together," Wit said maliciously.

"Carel! Berg!" Sledge snarled into the radio, then when there was no answer after ten seconds, tossed it down onto one of the tables.

"Wit, you and Jilt go find those two."

"Why should I?" Wit asked.

"Because if you don't, I'll break both your arms and your jaw."

Wit rose out of his chair. He wasn't quite as large as Sledge, but he looked more muscular. Listen—" he began, when gunfire ripped out of the darkness.

Several NFFA members, including Wit, were struck and went down in bloody heaps. Tables and chairs went flying as the survivors grabbed their R4s and scrambled for cover.

"Let's go!" Liam whispered. He rose to his feet and charged across the ten-foot exposure, Danielle and Stephen behind him. They didn't stop, but continued racing down the aisle until they reached the corner, where they turned right. Ahead, steel stairs led up to a second floor and the target offices. The stairs were against the warehouse's outside wall, the two sets separated by a small landing.

By now, gunfire was hot and heavy from where the NFFA people had been. Liam recognized some of the gunfire as coming from AKs, while the rest was probably the guards' R4s.

He motioned to the stairs. "Stephen: point. Danielle: next. I've got rear."

Someone shouted over the din of fire. Stephen stopped, his head cocked. "Arabic," he said quickly, "ordering someone to advance."

"Analyze later!" Liam said, slapping Stephen on the back. Move!"

Stephen ran up the stairs, followed by Danielle. Liam waited until they were halfway up before following, keeping his P-90 pointed in the general direction of the gun battle.

A trio of steel railings offered no protection from either visibility or bullets, so the team moved as far away from the edge and as close to the wall as possible, staying low as they raced up the stairs and reached the upper floor. Liam used the lock pick gun to open the nearest office door and motioned the others inside.

The office was plain, with a desk, a computer, several photos of ships at sea, a couple of chairs, three filing cabinets, and three white boards with shipping and loading notes written in erasable marker. A window was set into the far wall, and there was a second door to the left of the door they'd used. Two large windows were on each side of the door they had just come through, shielded from outside by closed blinds. The closed door to Liam’s left was the only other exit.

Liam stayed by the door and eyed Danielle. "How long to download?"

"Ten minutes.” She removed her backpack and took several items from it. She placed them on the desk and sat in front of the computer.

"Be quick," Liam said. He could hear more AKs than R4s now, a sign the guards were losing.

"Stephen, check what's through that door. We're going to need another exit out of here."

"Right."

Liam adjusted his radio's frequency. "Black to White. We have our own Omega Condition here."