Eighth instalment

Night Raid

“Ok, Hernandez is stabilized with three cracked ribs, a head contusion, and a stab to the shoulder joint. We need some medical syringes, a bottle of morphine, and judging by the knife, some tetanus treatments. We’ve got the morphine and a syringe, but no tetanus shots or surgical kits; any suggestions?” Saunders was seated in the corner at Hernandez’s feet; the others were assembled near him. They sat in a circle around a fire that Anara had collected the fuel for while Saunders and Hernandez were on their ill fated recon mission. “Two of us could make a run back to the base and get the supplies or hell, we could all go back, taking him with us, then get back here tomorrow or the day after.” Saunders looked at Anara and nodded, then Johansson spoke up “We can’t just go back to base tonight carrying Hernandez, it’s impractical, we don’t know how many others like that… thing there are out there, or anything. We’ve got a flashlight a piece, if even, and five pools of light are nowhere near enough to keep good on watching a three hundred and sixty degree range. I say we wait till light and either reassess our options, or bust our asses back to the base then.” “Look, I hate to say it, but if we don’t get something to deaden his pain, he might go into a coma. Concussions are nasty shit, if he gets into enough pain to pass out again, and my guess is he will, then he might not come to for days. We’ve got what; two, three doses of morphine? If we stay the night, we’re going to need more before we make it to the base. That’s not to mention the fact that at some point we’re going to need to treat him for tetanus. That means a tetanus shot, some hydroxide, and at least a sterilized scalpel to cut out any infected tissue in the wound. There’s a hospital not six blocks from here, it’s dark outside, but the stars should give us enough light to get there easily, and if we’re worried about not being able to see once we get in there, I know where we can get some night-vision goggles, give ourselves an edge without making us stand out as much.” Johansson asked the question hanging in all three of the other’s heads, “Wouldn’t the electromagnetic pulse from the nukes have fried them?” “I doubt it, they’re in the SWAT supply room, which is a few floors underground under the police station. It’s keypad locked, but that part works on vacuum tubes, which withstand EMP’s, and that door and the entire room is protected from EMP’s and radiation by about three inches of lead, so they should be in working order. Even if they’re not, it’s worth a shot, they’ve got flashbangs and other equipment in there we can use in a pinch.” Saunders thought for a few minutes then made a decision. “Ok, here’s what we’re going to do. Grayson, you and Johansson are going to get into the SWAT storage and check the situation with the gear. Johansson, while you’re down there grab another gun that’s better for close quarters. We need at least three night vision kits, preferably four, then get back here ASAP and we can get set up to get to the hospital.
Saunders and Anara kept watch on the door and checking on Hernandez in shifts, switching positions when either got tired as Johansson and Grayson made their way through the night without lights, trying to keep quiet. The streets were dead quiet and the burned out hulks of cars haunted the streets as their footsteps echoed softly through the corridors of the decrepit buildings. They made good time on the way to the police station; Grayson was on point with his MK23 out and M21 across his back on a strap, Johansson was keeping close behind him on his left with his M60 in his hands. They were moving in a crouched run across the final street to the front of the police station within minutes, and as they walked over the flattened door, Grayson switched on a maglite and but it under a corner of his shirt to cut down on the shine. The dim light helped them find the stairway, and they were down three flights and at the door to the SWAT storage room in a few more minutes. The keypad was still online, and the door mechanism worked. Whether it was the outdated vacuum tubing wires or the mass amounts of concrete between it and the nuke, it had survived intact. Grayson pushed the door open and uncovered the light, illuminating the whole room. It was about fifteen feet long and ten feet wide with racks on the walls and in the center space of the room filled with collections of well organized guns, ammo, riot gear, explosive devices, and other tactical equipment. Grayson and Johansson both started filling two packs with extra equipment, Grayson carefully grabbing four sets of night vision goggles, along with a few flashbang grenades. Johansson grabbed a SPAS-12 shotgun from the wall and held a UMP45 with a rail system out to Grayson. “Sniper rifle won’t be much use while it’s still dark out, and you’ll want something besides that pistol if we get in a bind.” Grayson reached out a hand and took the submachine gun from him “Yeah, you’re probably right, and its light enough I can carry it and the M21 tomorrow, don’t want to be leaving behind any firepower for our crazy cultist buddies.” He moved to a rack along the back wall and picked through the equipment there, coming up with a red dot sight, fore grip, and a IR laser sight for the rail system and a few extra clips which he promptly loaded. Johansson had picked up a similar red dot sight for his SPAZ and a folding stock that attached to a spot just above the pistol grip. After checking one of the sets of goggles, they set off for the campsite again, each wearing a night vision rig. They made the trip back even faster with the night vision. The green lighting gave the scenery an even eerier appearance, the shadows fleeing from the skeletal cars giving them a haunting look. They made it to the encampment a few minutes later, whispering “Friendlies coming in.” from beside the doorway, and waiting for a whistled acknowledgement from within before stepping through the doorway.
They set their bags down by the still burning fire and started running down the list of goodies they’d grabbed from the storage room, laying them out on a desk in the corner of the room away from the door. Extra ammo for all the guns, suppressors for the P90, UMP45, and the M4, IR laser sights for all, a few red dot sights, a dozen flashbangs, a half dozen stun grenades, a pair of binoculars that could switch from regular, to thermal, to night vision, and a half dozen sets of radio transmitters with throat mic’s and ear pieces came from Grayson’s bag; from Johansson’s came a half dozen breaching charges for doorways, some flexi cuffs, and ammo for most of the guns, and an assortment of shot and slug shells two and three quarter inch shells for the SPAZ. Saunders looked over the haul with the slightest hint of a smile playing across his face. “Shit guys, we’re not starting world war four here. All these electronics work Grayson?” “Well sir, the night vision’s work, so I’m assuming the rest of the stuff was equally shielded from the EMP. I especially love these little doohickeys.” Saunders looked up to see Grayson holding up one of the IR units. “Not trying to be nitpicky here Grayson, but it’s been my experience that laser sights work just as well for your enemy as they do for you.” “Yes, and I would have to agree, but these babies… well, just watch.” Grayson handed Saunders a set of night vision goggles and waited for Saunders to slip them over his head and power them up. Saunders nodded his head slightly to indicate he was ready, and Grayson pulsed the IR beam across Saunders’ line of sight. No one else in the room saw it, but to Saunders it was a bright white line shooting across his field of vision. He pulled the NV goggles off and looked to Grayson to see a wicked grin on his face. “They won’t see a damn thing but the back end of the bullet that just went through their head, sir.” “I got to say Grayson; I do like these things, nifty little bastards.” Johansson came back from his pack “One more thing sir, or, I guess two more.” “Yeah?” “Claymores sir, two of ‘em, took the liberty of liberating them from the armory at the base, tested one of their friends on the outskirts of the base and the sensors still work. I figure one or two in the hallways ought to give whoever’s back behind with Hernandez a heads up if anyone’s sneaking up on them.” “Johansson, I like the way you think.” Saunders sat down for a minute, looking over the equipment and after grabbing an IR laser for himself, a silencer for the M4, a set of NV goggles, and a radio transceiver set up, he turned back to the rest. “OK guys, here’s the plan. If you’ve got any suggestions, speak up once I’m through so I can get it all out first. Anara here has some limited medical training from a survival course she opted to take with the marines, so I think she should stay behind and watch over Hernandez. That leaves the three of us to get to the hospital and find the supplies we need. We’ve got the throat mic’s now, and that gives us a distinct advantage and lets us take care of this ten times quicker since we can split up now, or get back here quick if Sgt. Tobin need’s us. It’s currently 2000, Grayson we’ll follow you to the hospital, then split up to search the grounds there. If anyone gets into any trouble, don’t hesitate to raise hell. From what we know of these bastards, they like to take it stealthy, so if you’re in a bind, blast away, might make a few of them a little more shy. Any suggestions?” He took a moment to survey the faces of his three compatriots, their eyes were on him and no one was raising any questions, he threw them a cocky smile “Hoorah?” “Hoorah!”