Mercenary Short Story

A lone Humvee sped across the Sierra desert, a dust cloud forming behind it. The Humvee had the markings of a private military company. Inside, a mercenary sat in the driver’s seat, panicked. He glanced in the rearview mirror to see a figure coming through the dust. He pushed the accelerator all the way down. The needle on the speedometer hit 80 miles-per-hour as it reached its maximum speed.

Distracted from the road, the mercenary failed to see the crater. The Humvee took a nose dive as the soldier slammed on the brakes. The impact caused the Humvee’s front axle to come off. The soldier cracked his head against the steering wheel as he flew forward. He struggled to open the door as blood trickled down his head.

Finding the door jammed, he grabbed his rifle and slowly crawled through the gunner opening. He fell from atop the jeep to the hot sand below. He fought against the pain, rising to his feet. He checked his rifle as the figure appeared over the crust of the crater.

The soldier fired his rifle; bullets spraying over the crest. His eyes widened as the clip clicked dry. As he fumbled with another clip, the figure descended on to the soldier. He opened his mouth to let out a scream but didn’t have time.

Scuttling of the Admiral Barsukov

Corporal Tyler sat in a Zodiac with three other Navy SEALs Team Six operatives. Her eyes surveyed the waters of the Sea of Japan as her nostrils were filled with the scent of the salty sea water. She was burning up in her body armor. The dark waves were slapping against the sides of the Zodiac as it sped towards an object in the distance; the Admiral Barsukov.

“How long?” Tyler asked fellow SEAL, Cooper, whom was piloting the Zodiac.

“One minute,” Cooper responded.

Tyler nodded and checked her MP5SD. She pulled the magazine out, making sure it was fully loaded; slammed it back in, and pulled the charging handle back. She went over the plan in her head for the twelfth time. It was simple; infiltrate the Russian warship, set the C4 charges, get back off and detonate the explosives. She held the C4 in a pouch strapped to her leg.

It had all started just a week earlier. Tyler had been hiking in the Rocky Mountains when she got the call from her superior officer. Russia had launched a pre-emptive strike against the island nation of Japan. The U.S. had responded almost immediately, moving the Seventh Fleet to the southern portion of the Sea of Japan.

Their target was the only thing standing between the Americans and Russia-occupied Sapporo. They needed to take Sapporo from the Russians if they planned to push them out of Japan. Equipped with state-of-the-art Anti-Aircraft weaponry, the Barsukov was an aircraft carrier housing at least 35 MiGs and a number of Hinds.

Cooper slowed the Zodiac down as they approached the bow. Tyler, along with Rains and Sphinx, readied their grappling hooks. They launched the hooks over the side of the ship and scaled it. As they reached the top, they quickly disposed of the hooks and pulled their MP5s off their backs.

“Kingpin, this is Charleston Saint Helen Dragonfly. We have boarded the target and are proceeding to Checkpoint Zebra, how copy?” Tyler said, crouching down.

“We read you, Charleston. Remember the charges need to be placed at key points throughout the ship,” Kingpin responded.

“Copy,” Tyler said, signaling the team to move forward.

The team moved like ghosts in the night. They dodged patrols and spotlights shining over the flight deck. They temporarily took cover behind a MiG.

“Rains, get over to the fuel pump. Set the charge and return to the Zodiac,” Tyler ordered, handing a block of C4 to Rains.

Tyler continued, with Sphinx, and found the entrance to the lower decks. Tyler took point, opening the hatch. She aimed her MP5 down the hall and signaled for Sphinx to follow up.

She stopped as a drunken Russian soldier stumbled up the stairs. He began to walk up the next flight. Tyler moved forward. As she stepped forward, she stepped on a piece of broken glass. She winced at the noise, hoping the sailor had failed to notice it. The sailor’s footsteps stopped, as he said something in Russian. He began back down the stairs, causing Tyler to ready her MP5. He looked around, stumbling forward. He shouted in Russian, pulling his Makarov. Tyler fired a single 9MM round.  The round hit the sailor in the chest. He fell, dropping his Makarov.

“Bagrov,” Another voice came from the top of the stairs.

Another sailor came down the stairs. He stopped half way, spotting the body. He ran back up the stairs, shouting. Next came more shouts, then an alarm. Tyler exchanged worried looks with Sphinx as a Russian voice came over the intercom.

“Kingpin, this is Charleston. We’ve been compromised. I say again, we’ve been compromised,” Tyler said.

“Copy, Charleston. If possible, complete your mission, then haul ass out of there,” Kingpin said.

“Roger,”

Tyler and Sphinx both knew that the ship would be on high alert. They nodded to each other and took off running, heading for the engine room. They encountered heavy resistance, several dozen sailors armed with AK-47s. The SEALs gunned down anybody in their way as they made their way through the ship. As they reached the hall to the engine room, a sailor got a shot off.

Sphinx yelled as a 7.62MM round pierced her thigh and became lodged in her hip. She dropped to the ground, bleeding profusely. Tyler pulled Sphinx to the side, still firing at the Russians.

“Go on without me,” Sphinx said, choking on blood.

“I never leave a man behind,” Tyler said, getting into her medkit.

“Ma’am, you’ve the only hope we got. I’ll only weigh you down,” Sphnix said, stopping Tyler.

“You trying to be a hero, Sphinx?” Tyler said as blood oozed out of Sphinx’s mouth.

“Just trying to kill some Russians, ma’am. Get out here,” Sphinx said, coughing up more blood. “Get out of here!”

Tyler took off into the engine room. She closed the hatch, breathing deeply.

“Come on. You want some more?!” Sphinx shouted, firing her MP5.

Then the shouting stopped. Tyler hit her head against the hatch and let a tear escape her. She wiped it from her eyes and set the last charge. She exited from the other side of the room. Before leaving she looked back and lowered her head.

“Charleston, this is Kingpin. Have you completed your objective yet?” Kingpin said as Tyler made her way back to the main deck.

“Affirmative, Kingpin,” Tyler said, before diving off the side of the ship.

She hit the water hard. She surfaced, looking around for the Zodiac. She spotted it and swam to it, pulling the detonator from her wetsuit. As she climbed into the Zodiac, she saw that Rains had made it back. No words were needed when they saw Tyler was alone.

As they left the ship, Tyler hit the detonator. Moments later, the aircraft carrier bursted into flames. Slowly it sunk into the sea. Tyler could see Russian sailors panicking on deck, trying to get to the lifeboats. There was another, larger explosion as the fuselage caught. Afterwards, no life could be seen on deck as the ship slowly receded into the sea.  The smoke and fire was still visible as they returned to the USS Dallas 10 miles away.

2 Weeks Later…

Tyler, Cooper, and Rains stood in their dress uniforms at Arlington. A flag was draped over the coffin. The reverend was going on with his sermon. Tyler closed her eyes as the honor guard fired a 21 gun salute. The mourners spread across the cemetery like an ocean of black.  As the last of the mourners left, Tyler approached the coffin. She put her hand on the lid and lowered her head.

“Sphinx, I’m sorry,” She said, letting a wave of salty tears out. “I shouldn’t have left you there,”

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked behind her to see Cooper standing next to her. He saw her crying and gave her a much needed hug. The pair moved slowly away from the grave as the undertakers lowered the coffin and began piling dirt into the hole.