“Hollow-point, there’s no sign of Lyle here. This place is a dead end,” Flint informed him.
“He must be at target two,” Hollow-point replied, “At the centre of town.”
“Roger that, we’ll move there now. Regroup on me.”
“Heads up, we’ve got company!” Ambush cut in.
Sure enough, there were dozens of militiamen converging on the other two Joes. Both immediately opened fire.
Hollow-point started picking targets and sniping them as fast as he could, cutting down several militiamen to help thin them out as Ambush and Flint engaged with their Kalashnikovs.
“We need to get out of here!” Flint yelled, “We’re getting pinned down!”
Before Ambush or Hollow-point could reply, Flint threw out a pair of grenades. They detonated, sending militiamen flying and knocking others off their feet.
Hollow-point slung his sniper rifle over his shoulder, dropped down off the tower on to a roof below it before dropping to the ground.
He sprinted up the street, pulling his AKM off his back to use instead of the sniper rifle.
As Hollow-point reached Flint and Ambush, they moved up the street to an intersection.
Hollow-point caught up to them.
“Nice work back there, supporting us,” Flint said. “Thanks.”
Hollow-point nodded, catching his breath.
“Let’s move,” Ambush said.
The trio pushed on into the village, jogging along the streets. The gunfire had attracted more of the militia who were now charging along the streets toward them, barrelling out of side streets and alleys.
Hollow-point collided with one skinny teen, toting an RPK light machine gun. The teen crashed backwards to the ground, swearing in his local language. Hollow-point didn’t even miss a step as he kept running.
Ahead of them, more of the militia were setting up for an ambush.
“Through here! Let’s go!” Ambush called, turning to crash through the door of a house. The other two followed him as bullets began to hit the house and the muddy street.
They crashed from one room of the empty house to another, before slamming through a door in the back of the house and down another street.
“Do you even know where you’re going?” Flint managed to ask.
“Away from them!” Ambush replied, turning down another street.
Hollow-point glanced down a side street and saw militiamen paralleling them, he fired a burst down the street without aiming before he was out of the way.
“Militia are in the street parallel to us,” he called. “They know we’re here.”
Ambush kicked open a rusty metal gate and charged into a walled compound. Flint and Hollow-point followed, the Marine trying to remember the layout of the village to know where they were and where they were going.
At the back of the compound, Ambush kicked open another gate and they came out into a wider street.
Militia were pouring around the buildings and over the flat rooftops.
“Fire at will,” Flint said.
All three opened fire immediately. The militia managed to completely miss all three even as several of their members were cut down.
A roar of engine noise prompted Hollow-point to turn to his left. A battered Toyota pick-up truck was speeding up the street. A Ma Deuce .50 cal machine gun was in the back. Hollow-point immediately sprayed the driver’s compartment with a long burst of automatic fire, killing the driver. He next took the two seconds he needed to line up a shot on the gunner, killing him.
Flint, ducking away from one burst of fire saw the technical.
“Hollow-point, man the gun and lay down some fire!” he yelled.
Hollow-point fired at a couple more militiamen before running to the technical, scrambling into the back and shoving aside the dead gunner. He swung the M2 around and opened fire, the belt-fed heavy machine-gun sprayed out rounds, cutting down the militia, smashing apart thin walls of the shacks and taking chunks out of the brick walls of the proper houses.
“Enemy, rooftop, right!” Flint yelled as he back-pedalled to the side of the Toyota.
Hollow-point turned the gun on its tripod and sprayed rounds at the target Flint had indicated, dropping two militiamen carrying RPGs.
“Contact front!” Ambush hollered as he ran toward the Toyota.
Hollow-point shifted the gun back around and continued blazing away.
“Contact left!” Flint yelled, even as he fired in that direction.
Hollow-point shifted his aim once more.
“Incoming technical!” Ambush yelled, “Take it out!”
Sure enough, another machine-gun armed pick-up was charging up the street toward them.
Hollow-point immediately engaged the other technical, shredding its engine block and driver compartment before killing the gunner.
For a few seconds, silence fell, aside from the moans and groans of the injured militiamen.
Then there was the whistle of an incoming mortar shell. It exploded to the right rear of the technical.
“Mortar fire!” Ambush yelled. “Get to cover!”
A second shell landed only feet from the technical as Flint and Ambush were moving clear. The explosion threw the technical up into the air, dumping Hollow-point off the back.
As he struggled to regain his bearings, Ambush hauled him to his feet.
“Get up!” he yelled, “We’ve got to get the Hell outta here!”
Another mortar shell landed behind them as Ambush half-dragged Hollow-point toward a nearby house.
More mortar shells were landing outside the house as they ran inside.
“Come on! We’ve got to keep moving or they’ll dial us in!” Flint yelled. He led the others through the house, out a back doorway and along a narrow alley.
A mortar landed straight on the house they’d just left.
“Go, go, go!” Ambush yelled as Hollow-point ran past him. “Keep running, the whole bloody village is after us!”
Another shell blew up the house to their left just after they ducked down another alley.
“Incoming mortar, left side!” Flint yelled, immediately cutting right into the garden of a house.
The three Joes cleared the garden, crashing out the front gate, as another shell landed behind them.
“They’ve got to have spotters out there somewhere,” Ambush called out to Flint.
“I know, we’re being screwed with, they seem like they’re trying to herd us somewhere.”
Hollow-point didn’t have the breath to comment, but he agreed with Flint’s assessment.
They trio charged around a corner straight into a on-rushing horde of militia.
None of the three Joes wasted time aiming, instead they simply fired from the hip, laying down fire that would make the militia turn and run.
Several militia were hit, but it was more by luck than skill on the Joes’ part. They ran, firing wildly as they did before crashing into another house.
Ambush sneaked a look out the window, before ducking back.
“I see a tower out there,” he said. “It must be where they’re firing the mortars from.”
Flint moved to the window and risked a quick look.
“That’s got to be it. Hollow-point, can you take them out?”
The Marine moved forward, bringing his sniper rifle off his shoulder as he did. He looked out the window, drawing fire, which hit the walls.
“Yeah, I see them,” he replied. He made an adjustment to his scope, then moved back to the middle of the room, lined himself up on the tower through the window and then knelt down to steady himself.
Two more mortar shells landed nearby.
“Any time you’re ready,” Ambush commented.
Hollow-point ignored him as he took aim, held his breath and gently pulled the trigger.
“Tango down,” he said. He lined up his second target.
“Second one’s down. Tower’s clear.”
“Good, we need to find Lyle and get the hell out of here,” Flint said.
“How the hell are we going to find him now?” Hollow-point asked. “The militia are all over us, I’ve got no idea where we even are any more, we spent so much time running around, dodging mortar shells.”
“Target 2 was a building near the village church,” Flint answered. He pointed out the window. “Which is over there.”
Hollow-point peeked out the window. Sure enough, there was a church nearby.
“Let’s move,” Flint said.
The three Joes headed out the house’s back door and along a narrow alley. They were moving quickly, but more stealthily now; trying to avoid the militia gunmen who were still taking pot shots at the house they’d left.
The trio moved along a narrow street, passing a group of militia still firing at the house.
They finally reached the target building; a large two storey house in a walled garden.
Flint nudged the door open with his Kalashnikov before moving carefully inside. Hollow-point, now carrying his AKM in his hands, followed him in. Ambush brought up the rear.
The front door of the house was ajar. The team moved in quietly. A growl echoed in the house, Hollow-point turned to see a Hyena charging across the kitchen toward him.
The canine leaped toward him, but he brought up his carbine, allowing it to clamp its jaws on the weapon’s magazine. Hollow-point pulled out his Makarov pistol, put it to the animal’s head and fired.
The Hyena dropped to the floor. Hollow-point stepped over it.
“Who the hell has Hyenas for guard dogs?” he asked.
“Someone who can’t afford dogs?” Ambush replied.
The team moved upstairs. Lyle was sitting in a chair in an office, smoking a cheap cigar as they walked in.
“Welcome to my humble home,” he said, somewhat sarcastically. He looked the Joes over.
“Not talkative enough for SEALs,” he commented. “Not scruffy enough for Delta.” He cocked his head, looking more intently at Hollow-point as he stubbed out the cigar.
“You’re a jarhead if I’ve ever seen one, so that means you’re GI Joe,” he concluded.
The Joes said nothing, keeping their weapons trained on him as he picked up a shot glass with whiskey in.
“I guess I should be honoured that the DoD care enough to send the best after me. But what’s your extraction plan?” Lyle went on. “You can’t possibly be planning to walk me out of here for a helo pick-up. You can’t believe your going to take me back to the rubber raft you arrived in. Not in broad daylight.”
Hollow-point glanced at Flint at the last comment.
The Warrant Officer was smirking. “What makes you think we’re not here to kill you?”
Lyle returned the smirk with one of his own. “Because you would’ve just shot me already. And if the DoD wanted me dead, they would’ve got the Langley guys to do it or those clowns from DOA.”
“DOA?” Hollow-point asked. “Who are they?”
“Domestic Operations Agency,” Flint replied. “A spook squad who are less choosy about who they work for in the government and what they do.”
As the others had been talking, Ambush had slipped closer to Lyle, unnoticed. Finally, he was close enough to smack the mercenary around the head with his rifle butt.
Lyle collapsed to the floor unconscious.
Hollow-point blinked twice, turned around and looked at Flint before looking at Ambush.
“How did you do that?” he asked. “I didn’t even see you move.”
“Skill,” Ambush replied.
Flint grinned as he moved to grab Lyle and haul him up. “Ambush is our concealment specialist,” he reminded Hollow-point. “Pulling tricks like that are his speciality, literally.”
Flint hefted Lyle over his shoulder. “Now, let’s get out of here. There was a car parked downstairs.”
The trio were soon in the car, driving out of the village before the militia had even noticed.
Ambush sped them along the rough roads back toward the border. A few miles short of the border, Lyle began to come around as Ambush pulled off the road.
As the former Green Beret looked around in confusion, Flint pulled out a small radio.
“Flint to Lift-Ticket, we’re ready for pick-up at LZ one,” he said.
“What?” Lyle asked.
“Go back to sleep,” Hollow-point replied and punched him in the face, knocking him out again.
The Joes got out of the car, with Hollow-point dragging Lyle out of the back. As they did, the sound of rotors began to beat the air.
A battered looking Puma helicopter flew in from the east, before dropping toward the ground. Lift-Ticket was visible in the pilot’s seat, wearing a plain blue flight-suit, sunglasses and a radio headset.
Flint ran to the door, ducking under the rotors, before opening it and stepping to one side as Ambush ran to the helicopter, whilst Hollow-point dragged Lyle by the collar to the door.
Once the Joes and their prisoner were on board, Lift-Ticket took off and executed a tight turn to head back toward the border.
“Nice one,” the pilot said as Flint settled into the co-pilot’s seat. “How’d it go?”
Flint snorted. “A walk in the park.”
Hollow-point gave Flint a disbelieving look that the warrant officer missed.
“Another of Major Bludd’s dirty half-dozen captured or killed,” Flint went on. “Three down, three to go.”
Lift-Ticket smiled and nodded. “Wonder who’s going to get number four…”
