10, Part 2
“HUDSON!” I screamed. He groaned in pain as a rifle bullet tore through the soft armor on the side of his vest, missing his protective hard armor plate, and plunged into his body. He staggered back and fell to the ground, blood pouring out of the wound.
“MAN DOWN!” I yelled into my radio. Trying my best to keep my FAL shouldered with only my left hand, I grabbed the drag strap on Hudson’s armor and began to pull him down the corridor. Another one of the gun runner’s men appeared, and I fired off four rounds before he could get a bead on me. I didn’t hit him, though, and…
“****!” Pain shot through my arm, causing me to drop Hudson. I nearly dropped my rifle as well, and looked down to see blood begin pouring out of my right forearm. The bullet hadn’t broken the bone, I didn’t think, and…CRUNCH! I wheezed as the wind was knocked out of me, and I stumbled to the floor. I looked back towards the huge steel shipping crates that the gun runner’s men were using for cover in time to see the man with the H&K G3 rifle appear again. Laying on my back, I took a bead on him and fired three times. He fell to the floor, dropping his rifle with a clatter.
“**** YOU!” I screamed at the man I’d just killed. ”I’M HIT!”
“You okay?” Jeff appeared behind me just then, from around the dog-leg in the corridor.
“Yeah, armor stopped it.” The ceramic Small Arms Protective Insert plates in my vest had saved my life, stopping the powerful 7.62mm bullet from tearing right through me.
“Your arm!”
“**** it! Help me up, we’ve gotta…****!” More shooters appeared, and Jeff and I fired on them again. He kept firing his HK33K carbine as I reloaded my FAL. My reload was slow and clumsy, and I nearly dropped the spare magazine. Blood continued to pour out of my arm. I hit the bolt release and fired off four more shots, again screaming obscenities at our adversaries. Jeff then helped me to my feet, and we each grabbed one of the shoulder’s of Hudson’s armor vest and dragged him around the corner, leaving a smear of his blood on the floor as we went.. Hawk leaned around the corner and provided cover fire with his own FAL carbine. Jeff pulled me to my feet and together, we succeeded in getting Hudson around the corner. Triana was waiting there, an MP5 hanging from a sling, with a first aid kit.
“Are the charges set?” Hawk asked.
“Yeah…Let’s get the **** out of here.” The mission had gone badly. The gun runner was dead. I had in my pocket the unique ring he’d worn on his finger, some ancient Roman relic that he’d paid an un-Godly sum of money for, to prove it. I’d left Hawk, Jeff, and Triana in the corridor to cover the main entrance to the place while Hudson and I set the charges. I had no idea a truckload of the gun runner’s men would enter the building from the other side.
“Hopper, he’s hurt bad!” Triana said, tearing Hudson’s body armor and equipment off. “I don’t know if I can stop the bleeding!”
“Do what you can!” I got on the radio again. “Corwin! We’re leaving! Get over to the north door and stand by!”
“Roger!” he replied. Corwin, still slowly recovering from his wound, was left to drive the van. He wasn’t really in any shape for that, either, but I couldn’t spare anyone else.
“We gotta go!” I yelled to Triana.
“I’m afraid to move him!” she said.
“If we don’t go, we’re all dead. Come on!” Jeff and Hawk lifted Hudson up and carried him down the corridor towards the door. His dark skin was losing color due to blood loss. I began to feel light headed myself as my arm continued to bleed. Triana led the way, weapon at the ready, while I lingered behind, covering our exit. A man appeared around the corner at a full run, AKM rifle in hand. I was on him before he could bring his weapon to bear. My FAL barked deafeningly in the narrow corridor, and the bullet tore through his right side, exiting out the left. He flopped to the floor and didn’t get back up.
“I’m at the north door!” Corwin said over the radio. “Where are you?” Just then, Triana shoved the double doors open, ran the short distance to the van, and opened its back doors. I made my way backwards down the corridor as Jeff and Hawk loaded Hudson into the van as quickly as they could. As soon as this was done, I turned around and began to run towards the end of the corridor. I was quickly losing blood, and the doors seemed a lot farther away than I remembered them being. I plodded on. As I came to the doors, I saw Jeff, almost in slow motion, yell something at me.
“GET DOWN!” It took me a second to react, but I dove to the floor. Jeff brought his carbine up and fired off a long burst in full auto, right over my head. Hawk fired off a few rounds as well, his Paratrooper FAL barking loudly in the corridor. Still laying on the floor, I turned and looked behind me. Two more armed men had come around the corner, and both were now dead. I tried to push myself up, but pain shot through my arm and I collapsed back to the floor. Jeff and Hawk ran to me, grabbed me by the armor, and hoisted to my feet. They practically threw me in the van, and Hawk yelled at Corwin to go before we even had the rear doors closed.
“Hopper!” Hawk yelled at me. “The demo! Fire the demo!” His voice sounded distant, but I heard him. I pulled the large radio initiator out of a pouch on my vest and extended the antenna. I flipped the safely lever out of the way.
“Fire in the hole.”
I squeezed the clacker. Half an instant later, the ammonium nitrate fuel-oil bomb we’d left in the warehouse detonated. The roof the building erupted into a huge fireball, and secondary explosions and fires began as vast quantities of stored munitions began to cook off and ignite.
I exhaled heavily, and sat against the side of the van, clutching my right arm with my left. My rifle was laying in my lap, still slung to me, and my sleeve and pant leg were covered in blood from my wound. I watched in a daze as Triana, Jeff, and Hawk tried to save Hudson’s life. He reached up, clutched Triana’s arm, then went limp. He was gone..
“No!” she said, and began to perform CPR. She continued for almost a minute before Hawk stopped her. He looked at her and gently shook his head. Triana slumped back, resting against the wall, as Hawk gently closed Hudson’s eyes.
****, I thought, banging my head against the wall. It’d been our first mission with me in command, and I’d lost a man. Hudson was dead, and it was my fault.
“Let’s get that arm patched up, kid,” Hawk said, appearing in front of me. It was the last thing I heard before falling unconscious.
