LAV One opened and the team got out. Androwski was fuming. “Cole! Cole, open up, we’ve got some meds for Martinez! Stark, try the comms in the LAV.”
“Nothing, sir,” replied Stark after a few seconds. “He’s not responding.”
Androwski rapped his fist on the hull. “Cole! If you’re sleeping in there I will kick your ass, I shit you not!” The SEAL walked around to the front of the vehicle, swearing. The blast shields were open over the windows, and he climbed on the nose of the LAV. Putting his hand up to the red window to shield his eyes from the sun, he peered in but couldn’t see anything. He rapped on the window and still there was nothing.
“I need to get in there, Stark.” The man’s voice was past angry, there was now a tinge of worry. “How do we open her up?”
“Can’t. The vehicle is specifically designed to repel invaders. Without somebody inside, or an access code that’s on the manual, which is also inside, we aren’t getting in.”
“Fuck! Are you telling me that if the driver goes outside to take a piss and shuts the hatch behind him, he can’t get in without the code?”
“Roger.”
“So how…” Androwski thought he saw a shadow move behind the armored red glass. Again he put his hand above his eyes and pressed his face to the window. Cole’s face slammed against the other side. Thick fluid splashed the pane from the inside as Cole attempted to bite through it. Androwski pulled his face away fast, but not before he saw the malice in his teammate’s dead eyes.
He hopped off the vehicle and walked directly to Rick. “They’re dead,” was the only thing he could think to say. Rick ran around the front of the LAV, and following Androwski’s example, peered in the window.
Sighing, he got down from the LAV and walked back to the group. Androwski was on the radio asking Stark how they could blow their way in to retrieve the ammo for the other LAV.
“Not advisable. We don’t have any cutting tools, and if we did it would take a while. We could try the Bushmaster, but it would probably put holes in the armor before it blew the door off. One stray round could cook off the ammo and then twenty millimeter rounds would be firing in all directions.”
“What about the C-4?”
“It’s in LAV Two, and I don’t know what would happen if a Bushmaster round hit that.”
“I have a brick,” Seyfert interjected. When he noticed everyone looking at him, he went on the defensive. “What? One brick of C-4 and some det-cord is worth having on you on missions like this. I got it from Benotti before he…”
“Alright. Seyfert, shape-charge the bottom hydraulics and the top lock. Let’s pop this bitch open. Stark, man the LMG and check our six while we’re busy. Everyone else keep watching for stray Limas, we’ll let you know when we’re gonna blow this.”
It only took three minutes or so for Seyfert to wire up the explosives. He molded some into the small crevice between the hatch and the hull on the back of the vehicle, and some on the hydraulic pin catch on the bottom of the door. One more larger amount on the locking mechanism at the top, and he thumbs-up signaled to Androwski he was ready. Two suppressed shots hissed out on the left side of the street they were on.
“Contact left,” Chris told them. “They’re down… I mean, clear.”
Androwski pinched his throat mic. “Everybody on me.” When the rest of the team minus Stark, who was manning the LMG, showed up, Androwski told them to get in the LAV. “We’ll blow it from fifty meters back.” The team complied and soon they were backing up.
Seyfert pulled what looked like a small hand-held radio from his tactical vest. He looked at Androwski. “Boom?”
“Boom.”
Seyfert flicked a red safety switch up and moved a silver toggle switch down. A loud popping sound came from outside, and Androwski called to Stark to open the door of LAV One. The team got out and examined LAV Two. The rear hatch was
“Nothing, sir,” replied Stark after a few seconds. “He’s not responding.”
Androwski rapped his fist on the hull. “Cole! If you’re sleeping in there I will kick your ass, I shit you not!” The SEAL walked around to the front of the vehicle, swearing. The blast shields were open over the windows, and he climbed on the nose of the LAV. Putting his hand up to the red window to shield his eyes from the sun, he peered in but couldn’t see anything. He rapped on the window and still there was nothing.
“I need to get in there, Stark.” The man’s voice was past angry, there was now a tinge of worry. “How do we open her up?”
“Can’t. The vehicle is specifically designed to repel invaders. Without somebody inside, or an access code that’s on the manual, which is also inside, we aren’t getting in.”
“Fuck! Are you telling me that if the driver goes outside to take a piss and shuts the hatch behind him, he can’t get in without the code?”
“Roger.”
“So how…” Androwski thought he saw a shadow move behind the armored red glass. Again he put his hand above his eyes and pressed his face to the window. Cole’s face slammed against the other side. Thick fluid splashed the pane from the inside as Cole attempted to bite through it. Androwski pulled his face away fast, but not before he saw the malice in his teammate’s dead eyes.
He hopped off the vehicle and walked directly to Rick. “They’re dead,” was the only thing he could think to say. Rick ran around the front of the LAV, and following Androwski’s example, peered in the window.
Sighing, he got down from the LAV and walked back to the group. Androwski was on the radio asking Stark how they could blow their way in to retrieve the ammo for the other LAV.
“Not advisable. We don’t have any cutting tools, and if we did it would take a while. We could try the Bushmaster, but it would probably put holes in the armor before it blew the door off. One stray round could cook off the ammo and then twenty millimeter rounds would be firing in all directions.”
“What about the C-4?”
“It’s in LAV Two, and I don’t know what would happen if a Bushmaster round hit that.”
“I have a brick,” Seyfert interjected. When he noticed everyone looking at him, he went on the defensive. “What? One brick of C-4 and some det-cord is worth having on you on missions like this. I got it from Benotti before he…”
“Alright. Seyfert, shape-charge the bottom hydraulics and the top lock. Let’s pop this bitch open. Stark, man the LMG and check our six while we’re busy. Everyone else keep watching for stray Limas, we’ll let you know when we’re gonna blow this.”
It only took three minutes or so for Seyfert to wire up the explosives. He molded some into the small crevice between the hatch and the hull on the back of the vehicle, and some on the hydraulic pin catch on the bottom of the door. One more larger amount on the locking mechanism at the top, and he thumbs-up signaled to Androwski he was ready. Two suppressed shots hissed out on the left side of the street they were on.
“Contact left,” Chris told them. “They’re down… I mean, clear.”
Androwski pinched his throat mic. “Everybody on me.” When the rest of the team minus Stark, who was manning the LMG, showed up, Androwski told them to get in the LAV. “We’ll blow it from fifty meters back.” The team complied and soon they were backing up.
Seyfert pulled what looked like a small hand-held radio from his tactical vest. He looked at Androwski. “Boom?”
“Boom.”
Seyfert flicked a red safety switch up and moved a silver toggle switch down. A loud popping sound came from outside, and Androwski called to Stark to open the door of LAV One. The team got out and examined LAV Two. The rear hatch was
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