Operation Orion - Kevin Dockery [71]
The two scouts returned on the run, followed by a bang and a cloud of smoke.
“They have automatic guns sighted down that way, LT,” Sanchez reported. “Including grenade launchers.”
“Okay, defend at this end, then,” the lieutenant ordered.
Jackson was relieved when Harris returned a minute later, bringing not only Sanders’s squad but Teal and a limping, cursing Schroeder out of the battered corridor.
“Grafton has a good position,” the junior officer reported. “One of his gunners found another of those laser-type weapons like Ruiz was testing. He’s got it operational, and if the hostiles try to come at us that way, those swabbies will give them a hot reception.”
“Good.” Jackson took stock of the situation, thinking fast. His Team was almost complete, with the notable exception of LaRue and Falco. He described the situation to his second in command, and Sanders nodded when he heard about the defenses the scouts had discovered.
“Probably part of the same complex, sir,” he noted. “It’s the same direction, anyway. Must be where the garrison is holed up.”
The CO concurred. “No sense in a frontal attack,” he announced. His attention turned to the gridwork of the spiral steps rising from the middle of the large room. “I’m guessing we’ll find the CP up those steps,” he said, reasoning that the installation’s command post would be on the highest level. “I want to make it ours.”
“I’ll take the point, sir,” Mirowski declared, eyes gleaming at the challenge. Schroeder’s squad mate clearly was looking for a little payback. “I checked it out already; there looks to be a landing and a sealed hatch about six or seven meters above us. Want me to plant a little C-6 door knocker?”
“Explosive breach,” Jackson agreed. “Do it.”
Mirowski took a small packet of explosive from his pack and climbed the steps, disappearing onto the cylindrical landing above.
The CO explained his plan to the rest of the Team. Ruiz and Baxter would go next, with the LT and Dobson following. Sanders would send up reinforcements as necessary while making sure they held the large central compartment against any potential counterattack. By that time Mirowski had slipped back down the steps, a remote detonator held in his hand.
Jackson nodded, and the SEALS pressed the button. A whump of explosive pressure blasted down the stairwell, accompanied by a cloud of smoke and a skittering rain of metal shards.
Immediately the big Pole started up the steps at a run, the rest of the attack party racing behind. Mirowski tumbled through the open hatch at the top, snapping off bursts from his suppressed G15 as Ruiz and Baxter rushed behind him. Jackson followed the charge, finding that they had burst directly into some kind of control room. Consoles and screens lined the walls, with a large bank of controls in the center of the room.
More significantly, a number of Eluoi troops had dived for cover after the explosion, but now they had recovered from the shock to squeeze off shots at the SEALS. Baxter slammed against one wall and dropped, and Jackson felt a tug at his shoulder. He spotted the shooter kneeling behind a chair and dropped him with a burst to the throat that nearly tore his head off. Rodale came up from behind, shooting a pair of Eluoi with an extended burst, a few stray slugs shattering one of the vidscreens right behind them.
Ruiz and Mirowski charged farther into the control room, shooting to the left and right. Jackson spotted a hostile diving behind a bank of computers. He didn’t want to launch a grenade—the equipment could prove useful if they captured it in working condition—so he rushed after the fellow, shooting him in the head as he tried to scramble to his feet.
Something whizzed past the lieutenant’s head, knocking him sideways as it detonated against the wall behind him. He saw a burly Eluoi, his face swarthy and his green eyes narrowed, dark with fury. The fellow held a small but lethal-looking rocket launcher and smoothly racked