Chapter Six
Ripcord slowly made his way down past the first basement under
the continuous noise of heavy weapons and explosions from above.
When he finally reached the second basement the sounds of battle
ceased. Ripcord cocked his head slightly to listen as his
thoughts began to wander, 'I doubt I'm down far enough for the
sound to stop, so I guess somebody just won.' As the implication
of the 'Cobras' winning sunk in he almost screamed aloud, 'No!
She can't be dead! Suck it up and drive on Weems!' With a final
shake of his head to clear his thoughts he carefully opened the
door and stepped quickly into the room and leveled the FN Minimi
out across the space. He saw crates, lots of crates. All
different shapes and size, some still strapped to the beds of
cargo trucks. Ignoring the crates and whatever items they held he
quickly began to search out the key structural reports of the
building and attaching a large amount of explosives to each one.
He was so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice three
shadows slip away towards the back of the room. As the final
charge was set Ripcord began to key in the remote detonators on a
large radio switchboard. Suddenly the whine of servos caught his
attention and caused him to spin around. He turned just in time
to see 'something' smash through a crate, sending several G-41
assault rifles clattering across the floor. It was white,
mechanical, and humanoid. Slightly taller than a human but much
more bulky. However the 'eyes' of the machine showed a very human
face behind a plate of glass. If there was flesh under the metal,
it could die. Ripcord shot a spray of gunfire in the suit's
direction but the 5.56mm rounds did little more than raise a
shower of sparks off of it. Taking more careful aim Ripcord
targeted the glass, only to be rewarded with a similar shower of
sparks. The suit raised its arm. It gave much better than it got.
A stream of burning fuel leapt out towards Ripcord; however a
last minute combat roll saved him from a fiery death. He then
looked up to see two more of the suits bring up the rear.
"No fuckin' way..." he mumbled in disbelief as he dove
into a clump of nearby boxes. As he begun heading deeper into the
wooden and steel maze he heard heavy machine gun fire fill the
air, followed by the rounds impacting the crates were he just
was. Ripcord mentally took stock as he ducked down behind the
wheels of a large flatbed tractor-trailer. Small arms didn't
work. No grenades. And all of the explosives would be need to
level the building. Ripcord stared to the yet unprimed radio
switchboard for a long hard moment. Then he activated the radio
and spoke in a calm even voice as he also hit a switch on the
radio switch board, "If there's anyone left in the building
you've got ten minutes to make it out...I'm sorry." Without
waiting for a response he slid the headset off and took off the
Kevlar helmet and black mask too. Leaning his head against a box
strapped down on the flatbed he let out a quiet, defeated laugh.
"Well at least you won't be able to say you got me...I got
myself." Ripcord turned his head and noticed a manifest
attached to the huge box. "Nothing wrong with some light
reading while I wait." he said as he tore the sheet of paper
free from it's staples.
Type: Final Pre-Production prototype
Model: HiSS (High Speed Sentry)
Class: Armored assault vehicle.
Before Ripcord read any further an idea sparked in his head.
Ripcord turned around and fired a burst into the wooden then let
kick finish off the job, leaving a small hole in the crate. He
pushed himself into the box and turned on his flashlight.
"Whoa." It was a Armored Personnel Carrier. At least it
looked like an APC, but whatever it was, it looked mean as hell.
"Where's Covergirl when you really need her." He
scanned over the vehicle and spotted a turret with two heavy guns
pointing out of it. Ripcord may not be able to drive a tank, but
any idiot could work a few heavy machine guns. He quickly climbed
on top of the armored personnel carrier and slid into the turret.
He stabbed out at a red button marked 'POWER' and was rewarded
with the hum of electronics, after searching again he found a
'ARM' button which lead to the sound of rounds begin chambered.
He quickly discovered that the foot petals moved it left and
right, then flipping up the sight for the guns he listened for
the heavy footfalls of the armored suits. Ripcord jerked the
triggers back. The box flew apart as the 12.7mm slugs tore
through it. The suits all turned in the direction of the HiSS.
Ripcord strafed the turret toward the closest suit, which
promptly exploded in under the storm of the large rounds. The
second suit turned to run but the bulky suit's attempt was in
vain as Ripcord easily tracked it and watched it die a similar
death. Before Ripcord could track the third suit it split apart
and a man in bulky green and black uniform went running behind
some of the larger crates. Within seconds the revving of a large
engine was heard. Then with a screaming of tires a black
jeep-like vehicle rounded the corner. Ripcord saw a rack of four
missiles on the vehicle's back and immediately opened fire. The
heavy slugs went through the front window, the driver, the back
window, and finally snapping the missile rack off. However as
soon as he let off the triggers he heard the sounds of the heavy
engine still working. He glanced at his watch, which read 05:14.
Grinning he leapt down from the HiSS' turret and sprinted for the
jeep. He clawed what little was left of the driver out of the
seat and jumped in, slamming the accelerator down. After wasting
valuable seconds of looking around he found the ramp of the first
basement. 04:03. He found the street exit somewhat faster. 03:21.
As he pulled out on the street he swung the wheel left and right
to avoid the seemingly endless string of debris and husks of
vehicles on the street. As he glanced up he saw that the building
was on fire, he also saw a RAF helicopter lift off of the roof.
02:16. As he passed the shattered glass of the front entrance he
slammed on the breaks, remembering Givens. He jumped out and
sprinted towards into the lobby. A lucky glance at the weapons
platform/trailer revealed a passed out Givens in the pod. Ripcord
quickly pulled the SAS trooper out and threw him over his
shoulders. 00:58. Ripcord ran as fast as the extra weight allowed
him to back the vehicle and set Givens down in the passenger
side. Ripcord's heart was racing and he was breathing extremely
hard as he climbed back into the driver's side. 00:14. Without a
second glance Ripcord put the accelerator into the floorboard and
speed off into the night as a loud, rolling boom rang out into
the breaking dawn. Ripcord headed back to the RAF base and
dropped Givens off at the base hospital. Feeling somewhat stupid
now that it was broad daylight he drove the battered, blood
stained enemy vehicle up to the runway where the RAF helicopter
sat with the others resting up against it. After pressing down
the 'STARTER' switch the engine died out and Ripcord slowly
dismounted and made his way towards the trio...
Big Ben's words went right through Cover Girl, whose thoughts for
Ripcord were cut short. The second Fang was bearing down on the
three of them. The small rotary wing craft was easily maneuvered,
and the pilot began spraying the area with bullets.
"Crike! I'm `it!" One of the Brits called out. Looking
to her left, she could see Biggles grasping his shin. Big Ben
almost immediately grabbed him, pulling him for better cover, but
over Girl was focused on the pilot himself, specifically the red
snake on his blue uniform.
"Bastard." She said mostly to herself. As his next
barrage of bullets began, she stood up and ran east of where the
two Brits were taking cover, offering her own barrage back.
"COME ON!" She dared him, ducking behind a vent duct
near the building's ledge. He accepted the challenge, swinging
the turret her way, and moving in closer. Bullets rained around
her area as she changed clips. "This is not good…"
She repeated. She could hear gunfire from the Brit's direction,
drawing the FANG's fire away from her for a split second. Still
focusing on the blue uniformed figure, she saw the shot she
needed. Once again, she heard nothing as she pulled the trigger,
the soldier's blue uniform spurting red with each M-4 shot. His
limp body hung from the open pilot's seat, sending the craft
spiraling down towards the building. She didn't even have the
time to get a "not good" comment out before she dove
from the area, tucking and rolling until the hit ledge barrier. A
large piece of flaming wreckage landed close to where she lay,
covering her Kevlar helmet with her arms, keeping her eyes shut
tight. Once brave enough to open them, she could see it had
stopped only inches away. The soldier's boot was still attached
to the rudder pedal in front of her, and she shuddered, thinking
the possibility of a foot still being inside.
"Lass?" Big Ben called, as he stopped short in front of
her. "Lass, are you all right?" Shaking slightly, she
stood up, shrugging off the hand he offered for help and nodded.
Save a few scrapes, and a bruise or two, she was fine physically.
"How's Biggs?" She asked.
"'He'll be fine." He told her. "Took a nasty
scrape to the shin, be off `is feet for a few weeks, but he'll
live." She took another long look over the building's side,
hoping for signs of Ripcord, but still found none "C'mon,
Lassie," Big Ben softened his tone. "Our ride's `ere.
I'm going to need your help with Biggles." She cursed
herself as she walked over to where the chopper was hovering,
lowering a sling to carry them up to safety, helping to first get
Biggles situated. Giving the crewman a thumbs up, Biggs was
hoisted above the search and rescue helicopter. Big Ben could see
Cover Girl balk when the sling was being lowered, grabbing both
it and her at the same time. "I don't want any `not without
my buddy' speeches." He told her, still holding her arm.
"'Theirs nothing you can do from up `ere. Now let's go,
Soldier." She knew he meant the 'soldier' part more as a
compliment then as a reminder of his rank, but it didn't make her
feel any better, and didn't make her stop dragging her feet about
wanting to somehow help Ripcord. Several explosion sounds could
be heard from beneath, causing the whole building to shake, but
these were different, one after another, both soldiers knew they
had to be charges. Big Ben pulled the sling around Cover Girl,
then held on around her, knowing the building only had a few
seconds left. The two were lifted up to the ascending aircraft,
which was fighting the draft the collapsing building was pulling
in. Below she could see nothing but dust and clouds of billowing
smoke.
"Damnit, Skyboy." She said to herself, as they were
pulled into the helicopter by awaiting crewman. The helicopter
hovered above for only a brief second before heading back to the
RAF base. Cover Girl shrugged off the medic who offered to check
her minor scrapes. She heard Ben say something about her losing a
mate, and he told of how they lost one of theirs, as well. Not
enough time to grab him before the building came down, but she
wasn't listening. She fought the urge to let a tear escape as she
thought back to Ripcord's reassuring eyes before the high
altitude jump. Sitting off by herself, she tightly clutched the
red snake insignia she took from the first person she had killed,
the first soldier up on the roof. Cover Girl didn't feel the
chopper land, or even hear the engine's cut as it set down on the
hangar's apron. She hadn't even realized the sun had come up
until she stepped into the bright sunlight.
"C'mon, Lassie…" Ben told her. "We'll get you
somewhere you can clean up, before you `ed home if you'd
like." She shook her head no, then sat down on the tarmac by
the rescue chopper's wheels, rubbing her head for a quick second.
Ben and Biggles were silent as they too sat down, remembering
their fallen teammate as well. The rumble of a diesel engine in
the distance snapped her back to reality. She knew that sound,
the engine, … it was one of the enemy's vehicles! Before it
pulled into sight, she stood up readying her M-4…
"Enemy Vehicle approaching!" She told the Brits,
wondering how it would get on base. The armored vehicle moved
quickly, and came into sight within seconds. No way would a tiny
M-4 stand up against that kind of armor, but there was no where
to go on an open flight line. Still, one shot is all that would
be needed to get the exposed driver. The craft pulled to a stop,
but the missile platform, as well as half of the cab, was
missing. Looking through the M-4's guides she saw a figure climb
out, and aimed straight for the chest. She didn’t see the
red snake symbol. She saw a black flack vest, much like the one
she was wearing. Raising the site a little higher, she knew why.
She recognized the eyes. "Ripcord!"
<PREVIOUS_____________________________THE ARCHIVES____________________________ NEXT >