Black Flagged Redux

Chapter 36





11:55 AM

Outskirts of Monchegorsk

Kola Peninsula, Russian Federation





Daniel stood against a tall pine tree and programmed his GPS unit with the snowmobile hide site's coordinates. He was the last member of the team to complete this task, and once he finished, they would set off on skis toward Monchegorsk. The hide site was located deep within the woods of a small hill overlooking the city. They were still several kilometers west of the nearest city structure, which should have been enough distance to keep the whine of the snowmobile engines from drawing any attention in the city.

Daniel confirmed that the waypoint had been accepted and placed the GPS receiver in one of the front lower pouches on his gray-white camouflaged, military style harness. Another pouch contained a digital camera capable of taking high resolution pictures and video. Most of the lower pouches held ammunition for the forty-year-old AK-47 assault rifles slung over their shoulders.

Farrington carried a similar camera and the team's satellite radio, their only link to Sanderson and Berg. He also carried a suppressed PPS submachine gun, which would serve as their only covert weapon beyond the knives strapped to their legs. Sergei commented that the PPS had probably been produced in a Soviet factory before any of them had been born. In all reality, all of the weapons had likely been buried in Finland before any of them were born. The team had spent a few hours removing the thick storage grease that had covered the weapons, inside and out. Once the weapons had been thoroughly cleaned, they tested each weapon's action and picked the five most reliable rifles. None of them cared to dwell on the viability of the ammunition found with the weapons.

They were all dressed in expensive, mobile cold weather clothing, covered by old Soviet Era winter camouflage and relatively modern harness gear. White wool watch caps with gray and brown camouflage specks topped each of their heads, along with simple black ski goggles. If they ran into a Russian patrol, they might actually pass for some twisted version of cold weather Spetznaz.

Once Daniel nodded, they conducted a communications check, speaking quietly and acknowledging each other. Each man wore a sophisticated throat microphone, with an invisible earbud for communication. The throat rig didn't require them to speak above a whisper, since it absorbed vibrations directly from the speaker's vocal cords through the neck. It also cut out almost all background noise, allowing them to talk under windy, extremely noisy conditions, like a firefight or snowmobile ride. The communications gear and cameras were the only items they carried that appeared to have been produced within the past two decades. Even their Telemark skis looked like ancient castaways, rivaling the age and condition of the snowmobiles provided by South Kola Limited.

Their CIA contact from the embassy in Helsinki had arranged everything and had stressed that they were lucky to get the snowmobiles. South Kola Limited had balked when he asked for maps of Russian trails leading to Monchegorsk and a covered sled to pull behind the snowmobiles. Though nobody at South Kola Limited's shop would speak of it, the CIA agent got the distinct impression that they knew Monchegorsk was off-limits, and as one of the premier snowmobile outfitters in the area, had been warned not to send anyone into the Kola Peninsula. An exorbitant amount of money had secured a waiver in the form of South Kola Limited turning a blind eye. The cost of this blind eye turned out to be the shittiest equipment in their inventory. Apparently, they weren't expecting any of it to return.

Gunshots echoed through the hills as the scene unfolded in the distance. The city of Monchegorsk was a stereotypical Soviet Bloc city, dominated by rows of ugly, tall, rectangular apartment buildings. Gray dominated every street, building and common area below them, all merged together perfectly by a blanket of dirty snow. A low cloud cover smothered the city and almost swallowed the tops of the several dozen smokestacks located northwest of the city. The faded red and white warning pattern painted on Norval Nickel's vast array of spires provided the only color he could find in the city, aside from an orange blaze consuming one of the apartment complexes. The industrial plant's tall stacks stood dormant against the sky. More gunshots drifted their way, and they searched for the source.

A dark green BTR-80 Armored Personnel Carrier raced onto one of the main boulevards followed by two GAZ 2975 'Tiger' Jeeps. The Tiger resembled an up-armored U.S. HMMWV (Humvee), but retained some of the boxy features normally associated with an armored car. Gunners on each of the vehicles fired at a three-story office building as the drivers formed a rough semi-circle around the southern end of the structure. Chunks of concrete exploded from the building's facade as 14.5mm projectiles from the BTR-80's turret tore into the cheap Cold War era construction. The 12.5mm heavy machine guns mounted on the Tigers concentrated on the ground level of the building, shattering glass and splintering wood frames.

After several seconds of continuous heavy machine-gun fire, heavily armed soldiers wearing green camouflage uniforms and helmets poured out of the vehicles. Several soldiers from the furthest Tiger disappeared out of sight around the back of the building, and a fierce firefight erupted out of Daniel's view. Successive explosions just out of view showered the Tiger in dust and debris. Soldiers huddled near the BTR-80 reacted swiftly. They stopped firing into the building and sprinted to the rear corner of the bullet-riddled building. From the cover of the intact corner, the soldiers fired at targets somewhere behind the building, most likely in support of the squad that had just disappeared. Through his binoculars, Daniel watched as figures emerged from the smoke.

The squad that had originally deployed behind the building carried three wounded soldiers toward their hastily drawn perimeter. The gunfire intensified and one of the pairs struggling toward the nearest vehicle suddenly dropped to the ground. More soldiers rushed forward to retrieve their wounded comrades.

"Looks like a rescue operation," Daniel remarked.

"Rescue from what?" Farrington replied.

A smoke trail raced out of the southern-facing wall and tore through the thin roof armor of the Tiger closest to the engaged troops, detonating inside. The gunner firing the heavy machine gun mounted on the Tiger disappeared in a fireball that shattered the truck and caused every soldier in sight to drop into a prone position. The BTR-80 started to back up, and Daniel sensed that they were about to withdraw. Heavy machine-gun fire intensified against the side of the building that had been used to fire a rocket propelled grenade at the platoon, and the Russian Federation soldiers scrambled to reach the two remaining vehicles. Simultaneously, everyone in Daniel's group heard the faint sound of helicopter blades. They exchanged uncomfortable glances. Far over Monchegorsk, two helicopters appeared, flying low.

"Two Havocs. F*ck. Seeing one up close was enough for me," Leo muttered.

"We'll have to be extremely careful at night. They'll be equipped with the latest thermal imaging equipment. Same with the armored personnel carriers," Farrington said.

They watched as the armored vehicles, jammed beyond their advertised troop carrying capacity, lurched down the road at top speed. All binoculars turned to find the helicopters, which grew in size as they approached, barely missing the tops of the tallest gray structures in the downtown area. Daniel lowered his binoculars and took in the entire scene.

The helicopters slowed to a hover several streets away and formed up side by side. Once the rear helicopter pulled up next to the lead Havoc, both helicopters fired dozens of unguided rockets at the building the soldiers had just left. The rockets slammed into the unobserved side of the building, followed by thunderous detonations that reached the side they could see. Most of the windows on the second and third floor of the building blew out onto the street, followed by flaming internal debris. Daniel saw at least two bodies sail out of the building among the flaming wreckage.

The Havocs fired another salvo that tore completely through the second floor and brought half of the third story down, raising an impenetrable cloud of concrete dust and smoke. They watched more smoke trails arc into the haze from the helicopters, followed by successive detonations that shook the forest floor. Daniel couldn't tell what happened, but it felt like an earthquake tremor. The helicopters started to drift toward the structure, falling back in a line as they intersected the main road recently travelled by the surviving Russian Army vehicles.

"They aren't f*cking around. The entire building just collapsed," Leo said.

Daniel's attention drifted to several figures that emerged from the expanding wave of dust. They moved slowly, helping each other cross the street in front of the destroyed building. At least two members of the group carried assault rifles and wore the same camouflage uniform as the soldiers. Instead of helmets, they wore black watch caps, which were covered with the gray dust from the building. The two helicopters cruised up the street, and Daniel saw puffs of smoke trail the lead Havoc's forward mounted 30mm cannon. The cannon's projectiles ripped into the group on the street before the sound reached Daniel's ears. The extended burst of cannon fire dropped all but one of the figures trying to reach the cover of smaller building across the road. The lone survivor of the Havoc's gun-run picked up one of the dead men's rifles and fired at the helicopter as it cruised overhead. The shooter disintegrated into a bloody mound of twisted limbs and exposed bone as the sound of the second helicopter's cannon washed over Daniel.

"They're not f*cking around one bit," Petrovich reinforced.

"Did the local army garrison turn?" Leo said.

"It certainly looks that way. Berg said the garrison's base is fed by several wells and isn't connected to the city water supply. This is mainly a local unit and a majority of the personnel have families that live in Monchegorsk or nearby towns. He suspects that Russian leadership would try to simplify things and lump the entire garrison into any kind of quarantine effort. This doesn't look like your typical quarantine."

"More like an extermination," Leo said.

"Exactly. Like Parker said, we stick to the basics on this mission. Get in, figure out what the virus does and document as much evidence as possible. Our job is to get as much information to Berg as possible. The Russians are playing the containment game, and everyone else is in the dark. Berg wants enough evidence to crack this wide open," Petrovich said.

"All right, we'll approach the southwest end of town, stash the skis and set another GPS point," Farrington added.

They set off on skis as the two helicopters banked left and raced back toward the center of Monchegorsk. A loud explosion rocked the hills, and they turned in time to see another fireball reach skyward from a building several kilometers into the city, far from the two attack helicopters. They continued to follow the lightly travelled snowmobile trail that had brought them this far and would bring them to a point concealed in the forest, less than a half kilometer from a series of industrial buildings. They'd hide among the pine trees and wait for dark.