Taking the Reins Part 62

PART 62



Gabe





    "I can see it!" Gabe exclaimed, punching Ian on the shoulder with excitement. The imposing walls of Fort Creedy, perched on the top of a hill, could be seen over the top of the buildings that separated them from their goal.



"Let's move then!" Whats barked, hurrying his pace. He turned back and glared at the stragglers,



"Sam! Stop flirting with Vicky, and hurry the fuck up!" he called.



    The pair of them blushed, and jogged ahead to catch up. Gabe giggled immaturely as he saw their red cheeks, and wolf-whistled.



"Fuck off, Gabby," Sam hissed, continuing his conversation with Vicky. Gabe fell into step with Anton, and asked quietly,



"Hey man - have you seen those two? You don't think... y'kno?"



"I've seen weirder couples, Gabe - Sam's been trying to pull her since they met, hasn't he? He's not a repulsive guy, is he?"



"Suppose, but she's turned him down so many times before... why the sudden change of heart?"



"The bombs falling on us day and night can have the effect of changing one's mind, you know? When you know you're not gonna make it out alive, your priorities change a bit, you know?" Anton said wisely. Gabe nodded, glancing at his friends with a hopeful admiration.



"Fingers crossed, eh?"



"You betcha," Anton grinned, "Now shut up, and move - I can almost feel the General breathing down my neck,"



    Gabby sighed, and jogged on, glancing at his watch - the plane was arriving in less than an hour.





***





    "Fuck! We've got incoming soldiers, about ten minutes out! Shut the gates, barricade 'em - get snipers on the walls!" Whats called from an observation tower, waving the rest of the officers, who were on the ground, along.



"Son of a bitch!" Bob hissed, "Jigz - you got an ETA on that plane?"



"They say half an hour!"



"We can't hold that long!" Gabe groaned, pumping a shell into his shotgun.



"You four!" Ian called, waving at Anton and the surviving Musketeers. "Get over here."



"Listen, guys," he said hoarsely, looking dishevelled - somehow, Ian had also managed to look reasonably sharp before the events of the past few days - not anymore, "The main thing is that we get Bob, Bam and Jigz on that plane. Jigz can help those two save their kid, and that's what's most important, are we all agreed? Our lives are a bonus - little Sammy will be our legacy,"



    Taken aback slightly by Ian's sudden determination, the gathered officers were silent for a moment.



"You're right," Anton said slowly, "This is what we'll do..."





Bob





    "Fuck off, Anton! I'm fighting with the rest of you!" Bam hissed, clutching Bob's arm and heading for the gate. The other surviving officers stepped in front of them, their shoulders locked together.



"No, Bam. You, Bob and Jigz are getting on that plane," Ian said quietly, "You're going to leave this city. You're going to get Sammy Jr. If we can come with you, we will. But that's a bonus, OK? You two need to find your son, raise him well, give him a good life - you three will be a happy family.  That's more than any of us can ask for,"



"But... there's time for us all to get on the plane!" Bam said desperately.



"There might be," Gabe said, "But if there isn't - we'll hold them off until you're on it,"



    The debate was cut short by a mortar round whistling over the wall and plowing a hole in the infirmary's roof. The gate was buckled by explosions, but it held firm.



"That's it, guys - you three, get to the runway, or I swear to God, I'll knock you out and throw you on that fucking plane," Whats growled. Bam threw herself at the gathered officers, attempting to embrace them all in the short time they had left. Bob shook their hands gruffly.



"Thank you, officers. We'll never forget this,"



"You betcha - if you do, I'll haunt your arse," Gabe chuckled, his voice muffled by Bam's shoulder.



"Alright, let go of the kid," Whats urged, "We need to move, or this will all be for nothing! Sam, Ian, come with me, we'll shoot from the walls. Gabby, Vicky, Anya, Steve - hold them at the gate if they get through! Jigz, Bob, Bam - go to that fucking runway - look - the plane's up there!" Whats ordered, pointing up at the sky. A small green speck had appeared, growing larger all the time.



Ian





    There looked to be about fifty men at the gate, maybe more. Codeist's bombardment had clearly saved them a lot of work. But as he took careful aim, Ian wondered if it would be enough.



If you're still up there... help me. Let me give my friends their son back. Please.



    His first shot went home, dropping a soldier carrying explosives to level the fortress. His second brought a large machine-gunner to his knees, blood trickling from a small wound in his skull. His jaw set, Ian continued firing, spending less time choosing his targets.



    In total, the DHPD snipers brought down about fifteen soldiers, before they began returning fire. Behind him, Sam screamed as a bullet hit him in the shoulder.



"Fuck this," Sam grunted. From his belt, he unhooked his last grenade, and hurled it to the floor in front of the gate, "Guys, let's get down there, we can't do much more up here," he urged, as the small object exploded, sending bodies flying up into the air.



Gabe



   

    The explosion tore a hole in the gate, allowing soldiers to poke their guns through and open fire while their comrades worked to bust it open properly.



"Sam, you daft git!" Gabe yelled, sending a shotgun shell into the breach. Anya and Steve, the SAS man, fired precise bursts of 9mm bullets into the smoky hole, clutching their MP5s tight against their chests. Vicky, who had lost her heavy weaponry in Club Meade, was using a pair of handguns.



"We might do this!" Gabe laughed, blasting a soldier away from the gate. No sooner were the words out of his mouth, than the gates fell open, and a group of motorcycle-mounted soldiers roared through, headed for the runway.



"Son of a bitch!" Vicky spat, picking herself up from the dirt and diving for cover with the rest of the gate's defenders. The soldiers had set up a heavy machine gun on the other side of the gate, and it was filling the air with bullets, keeping them on the ground.



    Gabe could only look on as the soldiers entered the compound, the machine gun covering their entry. A final motorcyle burst out of the smoke where the gate had once stood, gunning to catch up with the others. It would. But with a different rider.



    Whats launched himself from the wall, landing roughly in front of the motorcycle. He noticed the rider's cruel grin as he bore down on him, but paid it no heed. He raised Rough Justice and fired once. It was all he needed. The single bullet went through the soldier's head like a hole-puncher, catapulting him off the motorcycle. Before the engine could even turn off, Whats had lifted it from the ground and mounted it.



"Anya! Get on, I need a gunner!" he urged, firing a few .357 rounds at the oncoming soldiers. The young blonde Spetsnaz woman hurried over, ducking under bullets as she clambered onto the back, one arm wrapped around his waist.



"Ready?" he asked shortly.



"Da. Move this bitch, Anton!"



    The engine roared as Whats and Anya moved to cut the others off before they could reach the runway, where Bob, Bam and Jigz were waiting, their guns at the ready.





B.I.T Pilot



   

    "Alright, prepare for landing - this'll be a quick one - touch-down and take-off. No stopping, OK? We'll drop the cargo door and slow down a bit, but we can't afford to stop. That crazy bastard has artillery all round the city, and Jigz just told me there were soldiers in the compound. You two - go back and help pull survivors on. Understood?"



"Which moron gave the General artillery? Hell - who gave him command of this mission? He was marked for a dead-end desk job somewhere out of the way, last I heard," murmured the co-pilot.



"This whole thing has been a cluster-fuck, Sargeant. Ok, coming in now, get ready to lower the cargo door. Fasten your seatbelts, ladies and gentlemen," he murmured, crossing himself with his free hand.



Bob





    "Alright, here he is," Jigz said nervously, looking over his shoulder at the hulking Russian cargo plane approaching the runway. Bam fired at the motorcyclists bearing down on them, and she actually brought one down, his bike flipping out of control with the loss of its front tyre.



"Nice one, babe," Bob murmured, trying to pick a target. It was hard, because one of the motorbikes seemed hellbent on taking out all the others, whether through dangerous driving, or simply gunning them down - Bob recognised the Whatshisname's long black hair, hunched over the handlebars, urging his vehicle forward.



    Behind him, the cargo plane touched down with a thud, its brakes screeching as it thundered down the runway.



Steve





    Gabe groaned as bricks tumbled around him. The machine-gunner had a seeming unlimited supply of ammunition, and he was using it to keep the five defenders pinned down. In return, they were not letting any soldiers pass their little brick wall without taking a bullet in the head, but the stalemate could only hurt the defenders. The plane had already landed, and it was turning around slowly, like some sort of aerial tank, trapped on the ground, where it could not manoeuvre. Whats and Anya were fighting an unveven fight, dodging through the other motorcycles, and keeping them busy. Steve, who had seemed to be a calm man, muttered,



"We're gonna stay here until they shoot us, lads. You do know that? Well, I'm fucked if I'm gonna sit here waiting for some little wanker Yank to come and fucking shoot me like a dog,"



    Steve swivelled out of cover, firing blindly towards the gate. Incredibly, the machine-gun fire stopped.



"I got the bastard!" he yelled joyfully. The other defenders leapt out of cover and spread out across the courtyard, trying to remain near cover as they picked off the oncoming soldiers. Steve's triumphant laughter was cut short. His comrades could only watch in horror as he was shot, again and again, bullets from various guns tearing through his body, his blood leaking out to cover his skin. As the defiant Cockney knelt, broken, in front of the gate, a soldier approached him, his face a tear-streaked mask of rage.



"You shot my brother. So I suppose you had this coming, no?"



"Piss off, wanker," spat Steve, before the soldier plunged a combat knife into his throat.



Sam





    Sam blinked, stunned. It took a lot to shock the young Geordie, but the insane brutality of Steve's death had done it for him. He could barely raise his arms to continue the fight. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a soldier raise an M-16 and point it in his direction. Half-heartedly, he raised a gun, but not fast enough. There was a bang. And a blue-haired blur rammed into him, knocking him flat on his back. Sam looked up at Vicky, who, for some reason, was straddling his chest as she gunned down the soldiers that were approaching. In a brief moment of respite, she glanced down at him, and smiled coyly.



"Stop staring, Sammy. Now come on - we've got a plane to catch - Ian and Gabe have already gone,"



    Grinning blankly, despite the bullets zipping around their heads, Sam took Vicky's hand and dragged her away from the gatehouse, leaving Steve's body in the blood-drenched mud, a defiant smile still on his face.



Bob



    Casting one last look back out over Creedy, Bob sighed heavily. He had defended Fort Creedy from the zombie hordes along with the CDF back in the day. Now, it was falling to the very soldiers who were supposed to defend it - Creedy was a B.I.T outpost, built shortly before the outbreak. But everything had fallen since then. He had seen more friends die than he could cope with, and he had had his son taken from him. Now, thanks to the efforts of his loyal officers, he had a chance to rescue him.



    Looking down at his wife, he smiled faintly. Ian was right - maybe this was the best they could ask for. The three survivors staggered up the entry ramp into the cargo door, the past week finally taking its toll on them. Bam collapsed into the arms of a waiting B.I.T officer, while Jigz slumped into a bunk. Bob simply turned back and looked out at the body-strewn field.



"Slow the fucking plane!" he screamed, realising that his men were still standing, and they were heading towards the plane.



"We can't - can you hear that?" called the pilot.



    A familiar whistling had started echoing through the streets, and the first shell flattened the infirmary.



"If we take too long, they'll destroy the god-damn runway! I'm sorry, I can't do anything,"



    Bob pulled out his radio,



"DHPD, listen up. The plane can't stop. I'm sorry. If you can make it, I'm going to leave the cargo door open as long as I can. I'm sorry. Thank you, for everything," Bob said.



"I would do it all again in a heartbeat, sir," Gabe said calmly, the sound of running footsteps and gunfire audible in the background. But the soldiers seemed to be retreating. They did not need to fight the officers anymore - the shells would do the heavy lifting for them. The only soldiers that continued their battle were the motorbike brigade. Whats had broken free of them, and was barreling down the runway.



    Behind him, the four other survivors stood up straight and gave a salute, standing for a few second amidst the falling bombs. Bob returned the salute, fighting back tears.



"Don't rule us out yet," Whats broadcast, his motorbike approaching the back of the plane.



Whats



   

We need more speed. We'll never catch up at this rate. How do I make this hunk of junk go faster?



    Whats bit his lip nervously as he watched the Antonov approaching the end of the runway. There were about ten meters separating him from the plane. And he could not close the gap.



Not with this much weight...



    Anton Weissenberg clenched his jaw. He had met Anya two nights ago, in the ruins of Cotty. He was not normally a sentimental man - Malton had battered his soul to a pulp. But he sensed that Anya was not like the other women. She already meant much more to him than Lilly, than Mary, than all the other bodies he had huddled with for "warmth" in the cold nights of Malton. She was special.



"Anya, take the handlebars,"



    Confused, the young woman did as she was told, reaching around Whatshisname.



"Why?"



"Ya lublu tebya," he murmured in her ear. I love you



    With one last look at the beautiful woman on the bike, he threw himself off the side. Instantly, the speed increased, and the motorbike surged forwards. Just as the plane's wheels lifted off the runway, the bike screeched onto the ramp. Anya dismounted and turned back, tears streaming down her face.



"I love you too, you son of a bitch!" she called, as the plane climbed away, soaring over the streeets of Malton.



    Whatshisname turned back, an expression of grim satisfaction on his face. He unholstered Rough Justice and Black Betty. He had six bullets left in Rough Justice, and four shells for Betty. He looked at the lovingly customised shotgun, and remembered its owner. This is for you, Bulldog.



"You called down the thunder - now reap the whirlwind," he mumbled, the motto of BD's short-lived Ghost squad coming back to him, right at the end of everything.



    Rough Justice barked, pitching a soldier back from his motorbike. The second shot ricocheted off the mudflap of another bike, while the third pierced the fuel tank, engulfing the motorcycle in flames.



"Anton, you daft cunt! Stop playing the hero - get to the armoury, we'll cover you!" Gabe's voice screamed out of his radio.



"Sorry, Gabby," Whats answered sadly, blasting a motorbike to the dirt with Betty. He finished off its rider with his fourth .357 bullet. "I'm not gonna make it all the way over there, and I'll be fucked if I let these bastards shoot me in the back. You four keep surviving. Don't forget me,"



"Understood, Ant. It's been an honour serving with you," Ian said soberly.



"Right back at ya, Ian - now stop talking, I can't concentrate! Whats out - for the last time," Whats threw his radio to the floor, and looked back at the soldiers now circling him. He blasted one of them away with Black Betty, leaving him with two bullets, two shells, and three motorbikes to fight.



"Get off the bikes. Let's shoot this piece of shit now!" barked one of the soldiers, throwing his bike to the ground angrily. He raised his M-16 and shot at Whats, hitting him in stomach. The DHPD officer fell to his knees in agony. The cruel laughter of the soldiers gave him strength, however. His face set in a grimace of pain and determination, Whats halved the soldier who had shot him with Black Betty. As an MP5 bullet struck him in the thigh, Whats gunned down another of the approaching men with BD's beloved shotgun. It was empty now - useless. He threw it aside, holding Rough Justice with two hands as he aimed at his final assailant, finding it hard to see through his reddened, fading vision. His penultimate bullet pierced the soldier's forearm, but it was not enough. The M-16 barked once more, hitting him in the chest.



    Breathing with difficulty now, Anton Weissenberg looked up at the man who had just ended his life, or almost, and whispered,



"Fuck you, buddy - I'll make you famous ,"



    The wisecrack made him think of Andy, his lost brother in arms. A tear came to his eyes. He squeezed the trigger of Rough Justice, mustering all his strength to do so. Click . Rough Justice, his faithful friend, the gun that had been by his side in Iraq, Afghanistan, North Korea, and through all his time with the DHPD, jammed. The stresses of daily use with no means of real gun maintenance had finally caught up with the trusty Ruger. And with me too, Whats realised ruefully as he glared up at the cold-faced soldier.



"Game's up, punk," he spat, pressing the barrel of his M-16 against Whats' forehead.



    When the Delta's combat knife plunged into the soldier's heart, he squeezed the trigger on a muscle reflex, ending the skirmish.



Gabe



    Peering in horror through the slit-like windows of the armoury, the survivors watched the scene unfold. Anton plunged his combat knife into the soldier's chest, and the soldier shot him in the head. The two men collapsed to the ground, dead. Gabe turned around, stricken. Vicky was sobbing in a corner, while Sam tried to comfort her. Ian was clutching a desk, his knuckles white. Gabe wavered, feeling his head go light. The shock was too much for him - he slipped into unconsciousness.







"You're stupid, Whats, you know that?" Gabe murmurs, breaking away from his tale, "You could have made it to the armoury easy, like, but instead, you put us through even more hell,"



"Sorry, man - if I had known how things would play out, I might have kept fighting, but I figured it was over," Whats says quietly, rubbing the scar on his forehead. The mark of the day a bullet had entered his skull from point-blank range and exited through the other side. The mark of the day Anton Weissenberg had died.



"Bam was right, wasn't she? If we had all been optimistic, we might have lasted longer. As it was...," Gabe trailed off, "We didn't last much longer than a week, did we?"