Page 121 of Nothing to Fear

There wasn’t much to take cover behind. Risking exposure was necessary if he was going to find an avenue to gain the upper hand. He followed the path of the ductwork along the ceiling to a wall and series of pipes.

Gunfire came from the far side of the space. Controlled bursts, teams sweeping in toward the entrance where the rest of his team were no doubt picking off targets.

With signals jammed, they were operating in the dark from one another, but everyone was capable enough to pull off this op lacking comms without hitting a friendly. Even Alistair.

The one equalizer—the mercs were functioning blind too.

An explosion came from the north, followed by more automatic fire. Reece and Ares were in.

Gideon skirted the wall, scanning for hostiles, until he hit a barrier. A half wall, maybe an office or, from the heavy industrial look of the space, an old clean air room used to house special AC equipment.

He shook a pipe connected to the wall, testing the stability. Solid. He holstered his gun and scrabbled up, using the bolted brackets for footholds and handles. Sweat dripped from his forehead under the gas mask, rolling down his temples, pooling under his chin.

There was a four-foot gap between the pipe and office-type structure. He pushed off the pipe, grabbing onto the top of the self-contained space. Hoisting himself onto the roof, he didn’t make a sound. Plenty of clearance to the ceiling, and the position was well above the cloud of smoke obscuring the front half of the space. The rest of the floor he could see clearly.

Gideon stood but stayed low and ripped off his mask to better survey things below.

Reece and Ares were quickly turning the foes in their vicinity into mincemeat.

Six dark-clad figures carrying tactical armored shields circled closer to Alistair and Castle, who’d already taken out five. Gideon locked sights on the two closest tangos. A couple of soft squeezes on the trigger and he took them out from behind. By the time he eliminated the rest, the team had moved toward the staircase.

Gideon jumped from the high structure, landing on the balls of his feet. Pain torpedoed his body and fatigue punched in, but he bottled it up and buried it for later. Hustling to catch up, he passed several open cases. Most were empty, but a few had heavy artillery, RPGs, and short-barreled shotguns. The shortest illegal barrel he’d ever seen. The decreased length made it more powerful and deadlier because the ammunition was propelled faster. He grabbed one, slinging it over his shoulder, and took an armored shield that had a triangular viewport.

Catching these guys by surprise came with unexpected benefits.

The corridor leading to the stairwell was free of smoke, and the others had lost their gas masks. Castle and Ares each had a Gray Box massive six-shot, revolver-style grenade launcher at the ready, both loaded with nonlethal pepper-spray projectiles.

Those mercs would be heavily dug in upstairs behind cover. The pepper-ball rounds didn’t have to hit them, only go off close enough to fuck with them. Alistair had also swiped a tactical shield, probably from one of the dead guys.

Gideon took point, with the shield at the ready, and rounded the corner to the staircase with Reece on his six.

A wave of bullets rang out in a striking clang. Suppressive fire swept over the metal staircase to keep them from ascending.

Their team ducked back, taking cover. Reece pointed to his own eyes, then to the stairwell. Pulling out a telescoping-wand camera that allowed viewing without getting your head blown off, he ventured to the edge of the staircase to determine the location of the gunmen. Reece shifted the wand around the corner for a complete picture. He slipped back beside Gideon and used hand signals to communicate.

Two shooters. One at the top of the stairs. The second leaned over the railing. Taking turns with bursts of fire.

After the report, he slid out of the way, taking Gideon’s shield.

Reece was a good shot. Decisive. Sharp. Gideon was faster, more precise.

Now that he knew the setup of the shooters, he listened for the pattern and the rate of fire. The man at the top had the best vantage point of the steps, making him the most dangerous. He needed to be eliminated first.

Waiting for his blink-of-an-eye window to open, Gideon removed his helmet. He couldn’t chance the gear getting in his way, throwing him off the slightest centimeter.

The bottom stairs cleared of gunfire for a breath, the shooters prepping to alternate bursts of shots. Gideon dove, sensing where to aim as much as sighting the targets. He fired and rolled, readjusting, and shot again. The first man slumped over the staircase with a slug in the forehead. The second took a bullet to the throat.

Gideon sprang to his feet and let Reece slip ahead of him, leading the way with the ballistic shield. They bounded up the stairs. Quick. Quiet.

The landing was a short hall, and the stairs faced the wide-open room beyond it, where every other merc was dug in. There was minimal space for their team to maneuver and hide. Whatever was waiting could hit them full force as they came up the stairs before they had a chance to take cover on either side of the double-wide doorway.

If only they didn’t have an innocent civilian that they needed to get out alive, then Reece, their demolition guy, could’ve wired the place with explosives. Kaboom. End of Daedalus and Omega. End of story.

Bracing against the railing, Gideon put his helmet back on. “I didn’t see Laurel when I scoped out the place. She must be in the far back office with Daedalus. Don’t get crazy. We don’t need her taking a stray bullet.”

A round of acknowledging head nods.

Castle and Ares got into position near the top of the stairs. Both fired pepper-ball shells into the room, popped smoke, and ducked back.