Mission Critical - Mark Greaney Page 0,187

said, “Four has a target. Top left window. Armed with an AK.”

McClane came over the net next. “Seven has eyes on one combatant in the top right window. He’s got a Dragunov. Did I miss some intel giving us a heads-up that the Russian mafia had snipers with sniper rifles on this op?”

Court waited to hear Jenner give the order for the snipers to engage, but before he spoke the booms of gunfire from the church sent Court, Zack, and all six Ground Branch men in the cemetery diving behind tombstones.

A pair of masked men rose from behind grave markers, not more than forty feet away from Court, and they raked the Ground Branch team with automatic fire. Partridge went down before firing a shot, and the team member Court didn’t know spun away, blood ejected from the side of his head, and he fell facedown in the grass.

He was clearly dead.

Court fired back, sending both men back to cover, but the flicker of muzzle flashes came from the front door of the church, and Court dropped flat again, slamming his injured hand on the hard earth as he did so.

Behind Court, both snipers fired. Lorenzi took down his target, then began scanning for a second, while McClane killed the man in the top right window with the Dragunov sniper rifle, but he was himself immediately shot by a second sniper, well hidden in the darkened bell turret window, half shrouded in mist.

Court shouted to Zack. “This is well-coordinated fire! These fuckers know what they’re doing all of a sudden.”

“So do you! Shut up and shoot somebody!”

“I’m saying, this isn’t Russian mob! These are Spetsnaz. Let’s flank east through the cemetery, try to divide their fire.”

Zack moved over to Court’s tombstone, chased by rifle rounds fired from in and around the dilapidated gothic church. He dove in behind Court and actuated his radio. “TL, Nine and Ten request a move to the south to flank target and approach from rear.”

“TL, request approved,” Jenner shouted back, then said, “Two and Six, see if you can flank to the north.”

Jenner was ordering Travers and Greer to break away from the body of the team and begin moving off to the left, shielded by low boulders in the tall whipping grasses of the cemetery. This left only three men in the fight in the graveyard itself, but attacking the structure from multiple directions would inevitably draw fire away from Jenner and the other two here.

Court and Zack moved low through the grasses, out of the cemetery and then along a driveway on the south side of the church. As soon as they made it into the open, fresh gunfire rained down from the church bell turret, kicking up rocks and splashing rainwater into the air.

“Son of a bitch!” Zack said as he ran for concealment behind a parked van. Diving into the mud, he looked back for Six.

Court Gentry appeared in the air, crashed into Zack, and knocked him down. The younger man rolled on the ground, clutching his taped and splinted hand in obvious pain.

Rounds tore into the van, forcing the men to press their bodies and faces lower into the muddy water and gravel.

Zack said, “Dude, you’re a bullet magnet!”

“I’m lucky like that.” As he rolled up to a knee and shouldered his rifle, he said, “Zakharov snuck some tier ones over here from Russia. Mercs or active duty. Why would he do that, just so they could pull security at his staging area?”

“Figure that shit out later, numbnuts. We’re in a motherfucking firefight!”

Court rose higher and looked down the hill at the rear of the church. In the misty distance he saw the yellow Air Tractor begin its takeoff roll. He aimed at it, but before he could fire, bullets slammed into the van and exited right next to his head. A second string of three rounds pierced the vehicle and pounded into the back plate of his body armor.

He fell onto his stomach.

“You hit?” Zack asked between the cracks of his return fire.

“Negative.” Court pushed himself up again. “The crop duster is taking off!”

Zack had shifted his rifle to aim it under the van at a side door to the church there. Just as he did so he saw movement, as a man in combat boots came running out.

“Handle it, Six. I’ve got contact north!” Zack opened fire, ripping into the man’s feet and sending him tumbling to the gravel drive. When he hit the ground, Zack fired once

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