One of the others went to work on his arm, placing a compression bandage over the wound.
"It missed the bone. It’s gonna hurt like hell but nothing is broken.”
While that was going on the others were firing at the guards, taking out a few at a time. Miller was the most effective with the big bore .50 Cal. His rounds could pierce the Hummers and come out the other side, taking a man down each time.
“Ammo check,” Miller called and each man searched the backpacks and piled the ammunition on the floor.
“Divide it up and stash it, leave the packs. We are going to need to travel fast and light,” he said. “Mr. Eller, I’ll be right alongside of you but you will need to lead the way. Are you up to it?”
“Sure. I’ve got nothing better to do,” he said.
“Good man. We might have to make you an honorary member of Strike-1 team when this over,” Miller joked.
“Oh great, go from one bunch of crazies to another. I gotta get better assignments,” he shot back.
Miller made one last check before they dashed out of the building, guns firing. They ran from one bit of cover to another while Raymond led them to the hanger. They had managed to kill or wound several more of the security guards before they reached the objective. They burst inside but the Su-12 was gone.
The rumors were right. It was already in orbit. That meant the weapon was either deployed or about to be. They searched the hanger and found the technicians in one of the rooms, hiding behind overturned tables.
“Where is the shuttle?” Eller asked.
“In orbit. It went up yesterday,” one of them spoke up.
“Was anything aboard it?” Raymond asked.
“Something must have been. They brought in a special crew to load it and we weren’t allowed back until it was stored in the cargo bay.”
“Do you know what it was?”
“No. We never saw it.”
“Where is the general?”
“Probably in the control tower,” one of them offered.
“No. He will be in the Su-12 control center,” a woman spoke up.
“Where is that?” Miller and Eller ask in unison.
“In the base of the QKR,” she said.
“What is that?”
“Quick Kill Radar. The big dish by the tower. I’ve seen him go in after a launch.”
“Thanks,” Raymond said.
“Do you know where it is?” Miller asked.
“Not far from here. The guards will probably figure out that we will be heading there. It isn’t going to be easy.”
Miller looked around and saw a motorized cart used to pull the Fastmover out of the hanger. It was big enough to hold three people.
“Six, with me and Mr. Eller,” Miller said.
“Look, if we are going to go out there and get killed, would you mind calling me Ray or Raymond.”
“I can do that Mr. Eller,” Miller said grinning.
Raymond shook his head.
“Ray. You, Six and I are going to make a dash for the radar dish on the cart. Once we clear the building, the guards will try to follow us and pick us off. Three, Four and Five will come after we have cleared them and take them out from behind. They won’t be expecting two waves,” he said.
“Sounds crazy to me but then this whole thing has been crazy. You know where Butch and Sundance run out of the building and the entire Bolivian Army is waiting? It kind of feels like that, but what the heck, what are we waiting for?” Raymond said, climbing on the cart.
“You cover the right and Six will cover our back. I’ll drive and cover the left. Ready Ray?” Miller asked.
Yes indeedy,” he said and waved his arm in a forward motion.”
Miller started the motor and drove down the ramp and following Raymond’s directions headed toward the QKR dish.
They fired at anything that moved or took a shot at them. The second group was able to catch many of the guards in the open and take them down. Miller was grazed in the head and blood ran down his face but he kept the accelerator pedal to the floor of the cart.
They had just reached the base of the QKR dish when Six took a round in the chest, spinning him around. He fell face first across the cart. Miller grabbed him and picked him up, hoisted him over his shoulder, and ran for the base of the dish.
Raymond fired back at a rushing guard and saw him collapse in a heap. He turned and ran after Miller. He caught up and helped cover them as Miller sat Six on the ground.
“Hang in there buddy,” he said as several rounds crashed into the base of the dish just above their heads.
“Here, press this against the wound,” Miller said to Raymond and dropped to his stomach, bringing the Eagle to the firing position.
Three rapid shots and three guards were taken out of the equation. He quickly replaced the magazine and fired off five more rounds. He hit three out of five. He ejected the magazine and shoved another one in, chambering a round. Bam, Bam, Bam. Three more guards went down. The others started to break off and head for cover.
“Six. You hang in there. The others will be here in a second. Hold on,” he said but the glassy look in his eyes told him the story. He was already dead.
“Damn it,” was all he said, letting off another round, hitting a retreating guard and toppling him forward onto the tarmac.
