ARISEN, Book Twelve - Carnage by Michael Stephen Fuchs Read Free Book Online Page B

consolidate and dig in. And of course the hallmarks of every SOF force worthy of the name were moving fast and hitting hard.
    A few of the other hospital staff had weapons, side arms only, and had been positioned down behind cover and given instructions by Sergeant Patrick. Also on the line was the NSF guy – Petty Officer First Class Toussaint, who at least seemed to have his legs under him, after having to be urged by Walker to discharge his weapon out in the passageway. Luckily, he, Walker, and Patrick were all behind cover, if not down under it. But they all dropped to the deck electrically when the sparks from a plasma torch started flying into the air behind the hatch.
    And now Patrick hoped like hell everyone here remembered his instructions – that an assault would be preceded by a volley of grenades. He’d been emphatic about it, but non-combatants had a way of forgetting everything, including which end the bullet comes out of, once shit started blowing up and the lead started flying.
    But everyone kept their heads down as the breached hatches were shoved open, the barricade knocked down – and, mainly, when shit did start exploding out in front of their makeshift cover and shooting positions. Which was good because these were not flashbangs, or anything like them. These assaulters were not here to rescue hostages, and the grenades were sent in to maim and kill, to dismantle the defenders and their positions.
    And the Spetsnaz shooters poured in right behind them, less than a heartbeat after they went off. But Patrick’s instructions, and Walker’s leadership, gave the defenders something like a fighting chance. The two leaders popped up before the invaders could reach them, the Marine engaging with his SCAR-L and the flight surgeon blasting away with her captured shotgun. Toussaint popped and started shooting shortly after, and the five medical officers with side arms after that.
    Two of the nearly-black-clad invaders went down just inside the hatch, felled by Patrick and Walker, but others came behind them, two, and then two more, and instantly started putting out heavy and brutally effective fire. Two medical officers showed too much of themselves and went down – and Patrick could tell the rest of them were going to be hit, or else have to get the hell out of the line of fire. And as soon as they did, their lines would be overrun, and they would all get shot down that way. This fight was going to end before it really got started. It was all happening too fast for the defenders to deal with.
    Which was how assaulting operators liked it.
    But then something changed.
    Shouts and unsuppressed firing sounded from out in the passageway. The assaulting force didn’t quite break, or get distracted. But no one else came in – and then two of the four turned and ducked back out the hatch to react to something out there.
    And that left something almost like a fair fight inside.
    * * *
    Browning knew which side his bread was buttered on, namely marksmanship, so he put his hand up to stop his team’s frantic headlong flight. They had just rounded the corner as the enemy came into sight – a line of invaders stacked up outside the hospital, and pouring into it like shells cycling into the chamber of an autocannon, firing at their crew-mates inside.
    Stopping his run, Browning took a bead and fired on the last man in the line, who dropped to the deck. He started to smile at his remarkable success – but only had half a second to do so. Because the man just ahead of him was already turning and reacting. Browning took a second shot on this man – but either missed entirely, or hit him somewhere armored. His idea had been to take down one or two off the back of the line, Sergeant York style, then attack into the remainder with his full team.
    But he never even got the chance.
    The rear of the Spetsnaz force reacted in seconds – two of them, then two more, turning and running at the NSF sailors, firing as they ran.