Apache Dawn - - (classic fiction .TXT) 📗

and what looked like tanks and a few planes as well. There was a stream of lights heading overland from the port, where he could see dozens of large ships anchored offshore. Cooper frowned as he realized their resupply effort was in full swing.

At that instant, he saw a large cargo plane lift off from Logan International. The huge plane clawed its way into the sky, heading east over the bay toward Europe.

He scanned the approaching ground—now just a few thousand feet below—watching roads and neighborhoods roll by under his boots and bags of gear that were strapped to his body. He could see burning buildings, flattened homes, swaths of whole neighborhoods that were just ugly, charred black smears instead of homes and businesses. The rioting and unprecedented repression by the Germans in response had left battle scars all around the outskirts of Boston.

At last he was able to spot their primary landing zone, John F. Kennedy Park, just on the north side of the Charles River, about as close as possible to the Harvard campus, where the good professor was reportedly living. Instead of the darkened grass and trees he was expecting, Cooper spotted lights and movement. There was a group of people walking around with flashlights and a number of vehicles on the outskirts of the park. A German forward-operating base? Or a checkpoint? The park was conveniently located adjacent to the John F. Kennedy Street Bridge that linked Cambridge to Allston.

Well, that’s not going to work. Damn park is crawling with Germans.

He keyed his mic. “All units, abort primary LZ, repeat, abort primary LZ. Follow my lead to the alternate.” He listened to a series of clicks as his men checked in by breaking squelch and acknowledging the change in plans.

Cooper pulled on his guide ropes and started a slow, gentle turn to the north and west, making a loop over the Charles River and getting the team lined up for landing on a large, flat, sports complex across the river from JFK Park. He pulled the team down through a thousand feet and followed the river, keeping an eye to the left, where Cumnock Fields Park was a nice, inviting patch of green. He couldn’t see anything on the ground below—no sign of Germans anywhere close. Cooper swooped around to the north, then curved back to the east over the river at a steep incline, and dropped just over the tree line. Their boots skimmed the treetops and coasted just above the grass to the far side of the field.

He flared expertly at the very last second, just outside the tree line that sheltered the southern riverbank of the Charles River. As his momentum was fully arrested, his feet dropped to the ground without a sound and he sank to a crouch, already rolling up his parachute.

In a whisper, Charlie landed next to him, almost as perfectly as Cooper. Jax landed on his left and skidded a few feet before he stopped. The others, he noticed with a grin, landed safely and quietly along the length of the tree line. They were as silent as ghosts. In their black helmets and HAHO suits, to anyone who’d bothered to look, they were mere wraith-like shadows passing silently through the night.

Once free of their parachutes, oxygen tanks, and HAHO gear, the SEALs strapped on weapons and cut loose the empty leg-bags. They were now ready to continue the mission. Cooper checked the elapsed mission time on his HUD and nodded to himself. It’d taken less than a minute to go from flight to land operations.

By the book.

He saw the others take a knee and when each helmeted head had turned in his direction, he waved his hand in the execute signal and pointed at Charlie to head for the river. Charlie nodded and moved off silently, Jax and Swede following him into the tree line. When they vanished into the trees and undergrowth that lined the river, Cooper motioned for his squad to follow as he moved along the tree line toward the JFK Street Bridge.

“Two in position,” said Charlie’s voice a few breathless moments later.

The kid’s fast, Cooper admitted to himself. Charlie was already in position by the river, at the foot of the bridge. Cooper reached his position, just inside the tree line, at the street level of the bridge. Craning his neck, he could make out the IR beacon on the back of Charlie’s helmet down below near the river.

“Sparky, you got eyes on?” he asked.

“Roger that.”

Cooper watched the team sniper move to the right and set up his long, black sniper rifle behind a tree. Sparky plugged a cord from the rifle’s scope into the side of his helmet and started scanning the bridge and the far bank.

“Bridge is clear. No enemy foot mobiles in sight. No vehicles in sight.”

“Two?” asked Cooper.

“Negative activity here. Skies are clear,” Charlie reported.

“Let’s go,” said Cooper. His team headed out of the tree line and crossed the street. They hopped a temporary concrete barrier set up by the Germans and made their way across the long bridge. He watched as Charlie’s squad took position on the opposite side of the road from his men and they all moved across the bridge together as a single unit.

“Still clear,” called out Sparky, still in his position back in the tree line.

“Copy,” grunted Cooper. They were almost at the other side. This is turning out to be—

“Movement, far side, your eleven o’clock!”

The front two SEALs, Cooper and Charlie, on either side of the road, dropped to the deck and had their rifles at the ready. The other SEALs took a knee and aimed over their leaders.

“Wait one…I don’t think they’re Germans…”

“Say again, Sparky, what the hell are we looking for?” hissed Charlie.

“Seven, repeat, seven foot mobiles, approaching the Germans in JFK Park. Moving up from the riverbank. They’ve got their backs to you.”

“Go, go, go,” said Cooper, getting to his feet again. They would use the cover of the side-rails of the bridge to shield their movement as they reached the far side and crouched again. “Where are they at, Sparky?”

“Foot mobiles entering the tree line, your ten o’clock.”

Before Cooper could say anything else, gunfire erupted in the trees across the street. The bright muzzle flashes lit up their night-vision enhanced HUDs. The computers in their helmets did a good job of dimming the display to prevent momentary blindness. Cooper grinned. He’d taken the Marine Commandant at his word when he told the SEALs to take what they wanted.

“I have got to get me some more of this gear,” he muttered.

“Hooyah,” replied Charlie.

“Whoever they are, they took Jerry by surprise. They’re pretty good, but the Germans got reinforcements approaching from the north—your one o’clock. Across the road, looks like a six-man squad. On foot.”

“Whoever the hell they are, they’re fighting the Germans, and that’s who’s standing between us and our objective. I say we lend a hand,” suggested Charlie.

“Agreed, let’s do it. You take out the reinforcements, we’ll engage from the tree line.”

“Copy.” Charlie moved off silently with Jax and Swede in tow, racing up the street directly at the unsuspecting German squad rushing to help their comrades.

“Sparky, you suppressed?” asked Cooper as he and Mike moved forward toward the fighting.

“Affirmative.”

“Clear to engage.”

“Roger that, engaging now.”

Cooper reached the tree line ahead and saw shadowy shapes in front of him, moving into the German encampment. There were a few tents on fire and one of their vehicles was all shot up. He counted three bodies on the ground and could see the silhouettes of the mystery attackers moving forward in a disciplined approach, raking fire into the surprised German troops. To his right, he heard muffled gunfire erupt—Charlie was engaging his targets.

A German staggered from the tent in front of him and was suddenly jerked backwards into the tent’s opening. Cooper ducked involuntarily.

“That’s one,” said Sparky.

“That was a little close, brother,” muttered Cooper, searching for a new target.

Another German crumpled on the edge of Cooper’s vision. “Two.”

Muffled gunfire reached Cooper’s ears inside his HAHO helmet. He turned again to the road and saw his SEALs moving forward, laying down controlled bursts through the trees. Germans were falling left and right.

He turned back to the main camp just in time to see a German emerge from the trees and take aim at the back of one of the unknown foot mobiles Sparky had spotted earlier. The man turned to face the German and Cooper could see by the firelight the look of abject fear and surprise on his face.

Cooper fired without further hesitation and the German fell to the side with a scream. Cooper was then left standing with his rifle aimed and ready, pointed at the stranger’s chest.

The stranger quickly gathered his wits and started to raise his own rifle toward Cooper.

“Hold your fire! Friendly!” Cooper said, raising his left hand. His voice, broadcast by external speakers in his helmet, came back to him muffled. He winced, thinking he sounded like a Stormtrooper right out of Star Wars.

“Comin’ up on your three o’clock, Coop,” warned Charlie.

The man in front of Cooper was now joined by his surviving comrades, three more shadows that moved through the camp to the tree line. Cooper could see they were all dressed in civilian clothes, though one had some hunting camo. They all carried M4s or AR-15s. One had an SKS slung over his shoulder.

Mike stepped up next to Cooper and took aim