Transporter 001

Destination: USA

They were a few minutes away from the pirates’ base, yet through the holographic dome of the transporter, they could all see that the terrain underneath them was greatly changed. The internal gravity that the transporter maintained and the inertial dampeners, canceled out the g-forces so for those inside it was as if they were standing on solid ground.

Michael and the team had taken off their helmets and gloves, mainly because of two little girls, who were intimidated by the all-black facade they presented. That seemed to calm them down, and after a while, they started resembling a couple of lemmings, looking at the members of the team and then looking outside the transparent walls in wonder.

“Are you with the military?” Mary asked. She was kneeling beside her husband, whom Tyron had placed on a foldable stretcher, which was part of the standard transporter emergency gear.

“You said my father sent you… and this flying craft…” The haste in which everything happened since these people came to her rescue did not allow her to think straight, but now she could not understand how this aircraft was even possible.

“No, we're not with the military,” Michael answered. “Think of us as a privately held company. Your father agreed to work for us, but the main condition of his employment was for you and your husband to be rescued from the pirates. The company deals with the development of proprietary advanced technologies, and this aircraft is an example of them. We are taking you to a secure site where we have advanced medical facilities to help your husband. Your father, Dr. Ross, will join you shortly and I am sure he will explain everything to you.”

She seemed to accept that and confirmed it with a few nods. The transporter did have plenty of water on board, but there was very little food; the team managed to find some chocolate-flavored energy bars that were part of emergency rations and gave them to the girls and Mary. The main purpose of those rations was to compact as much fat, protein, and carbohydrates in a very limited space. Consequently, their taste left much to be desired. Regardless of that, their faces showed absolute bliss as they were devouring them, which gave Michael some idea of the food quality the pirates provided.

***

An hour into their flight, Elizabeth made a connection to his implants using an emergency protocol.

“Michael, we know what the terrorists are planning to do, but we caught it too late.” Even though he could not see her face, Michael could sense a rising panic in her voice.

“What is it?” He responded in the same way, not to alarm their passengers.

“They’re taking over the Millennial Sports Arena, and it’s the finals… Michael, there are twenty-five thousand people there, and they plan to kill them all.” Elizabeth’s voice quieted to a whisper at the end, as if she could not believe what she was saying. He closed his eyes while the muscles of his jaw became rigid. Even after all this time, with all the things he saw in his life, the unfathomable depths of human depravity surprised him. That someone could even plan to kill twenty-five thousand people was monstrous, but it happened so many times in human history, a legacy of a vicious species.

“Have you informed the authorities?” Michael asked when a small icon on his HUD indicated that Max had joined the conversation.

“Yes, but I don’t think they believe the information. Anyway, they will need too much time to confirm the intelligence, and by that time… It will be too late,” Max replied.

There are some moments in life when one needs to make a quick decision, there is no time for slow deliberations and as it happens those moments are usually pivotal.

“Max, how fast can we get there?”

“With emergency speed, and if we go on a sub-orbital trajectory… thirty-five minutes.” The AI responded, making a little pause before giving the final answer, which he took to calculate all variables.

“Do you have any more information?” He asked through his implant, addressing both of them.

“Yes, in fact, we managed to find one of them; he broke his leg, and was excluded from the group that went to the arena. He made a mistake and called some of his friends in the Middle East so he could tell them that they should be watching television tonight, as something glorious was about to happen. We didn’t want to lose any time, so Alice took one of the transporters and basically kidnapped him from the hospital.” Max answered.

Elizabeth cut in, “Michael, she had to interrogate him quickly and dirty; for a while, she even turned off the audio link so we wouldn’t hear the screams. You need to talk to her about it later; I do not think she is in a good place right now.”

“Okay, I will. Max, what did she find out?” He could not allow himself to think of anything else except the situation at hand.

“It’s not good Michael; it looks as if someone had meticulously planned an elaborate and disturbing horror show. Their plan is to kill every member of security in the arena, place visible bombs on all the exits, and then take everyone hostage. One of their first priorities is to take control of the media center so they could make some outrageous demands, live on the air, never expecting them to be fulfilled. However, when those demands are not met, they will transmit the beheadings of women and children to the entire world. The emotional impact that act is going to create, cannot be measured,” Max quickly replied. “It gets worse from there; when SWAT teams, unavoidably, manage to breach inside of the arena, their plan is to blow themselves up and most of the people there. The truck they let inside before barricading the doors carries twenty thousand pounds of ammonium nitrate fertilizer that is mixed with nitromethane. That’s enough explosive to destroy a big part of the arena and kill a lot of people. And if that was not bad enough, they somehow managed to acquire two barrels of nuclear waste. It’s like a mother of all dirty bombs; if it detonates, the consequences will be—” Max stopped in the middle of the sentence. “Michael, I calculated the timings. You will not be able to reach the arena before the attack begins,” The AI said quietly.

Everybody stood silent for a moment, holding their breaths. At the same time, Michael knew that succumbing to indecision could be fatal to so many people.

“All right, tell Alice that we need her and that she should bring her sniper rifle. Elizabeth, get into one of the transporters with Alice and coordinate with Max so you can intercept us at an ideal location; we are heading straight to the arena. We will take your transporter and Alice, and you will take these people to the silo.” Michael ordered.

The transporter was speeding up for some time now, ascending towards the sky. Max’s voice told the passengers to secure their seat belts in preparation for the considerable acceleration. Mary got into her seat while Tyron secured her husband with additional straps to the aircraft.

Michael used internal comm links to explain everything to his team, there was no need to frighten their passengers.

“Does everyone understand what needs to be done?” He asked after he described the situation and the beginning of the plan for their attack. After getting everyone’s confirmation, he concluded with, “We may be late for the party, but one way or the other… we will be there at the end.”

The little girls started squealing happily when the sky started turning dark and the stars appeared. Underneath them, the Earth showed significant curvature. Michael looked at their smiling faces, but could not help to think of how many little girls, just like these two, were now in the arena.

***

Millennial Sports Arena

Murat was feeling closer to God than at any time before in his life; he could sense the divine purpose spreading throughout his soul. Tonight, he would fulfill the sole purpose for which he was born. If he closed his eyes, he could almost see himself entering heaven and receiving all the rewards that were waiting for him. For the last ten years, he had been living in this godforsaken country, waiting for the call to achieve greatness.

Killing the people who were supposed to guard this place was easy; all the security guards in the arena were now dead. They used silenced weapons for that glorious deed, not to alarm the masses of the infidels and instigate panic before it was time.

All exits were secured with explosive devices, and the most important thing, the bomb truck that will ensure his rewards, was inside of the arena parking lot. It was a nice evening so the retractable roof was open which will ensure that the radioactive death cloud will punish many more of these devils.

His holy warriors were at their assigned locations, covering all the exits. No one will be allowed to run; there was no escape from the divine will. Now he needed to scare them enough so they would not panic and stampede like animals. Moreover, no one noticed anything yet, so focused were they on a stupid game; yelling, screaming, indulging their baser natures. Soon… he would ensure that they were screaming for entirely different reasons.

He entered the announcement box; one of his warriors was setting up the camera that was going to transmit his image to the big screens mounted in the arena. A trembling technician was explaining what needed to be done, and his crying eyes would from time to time shift to his coworker’s body that was already cooling on the floor.

Murat nodded his head and could see through the window, his face appearing on the big screens.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,” his voice roared through the entire structure. “YOU WILL REMAIN IN YOUR SEATS, AND WILL NOT MOVE FROM YOUR PLACE. IF YOU ATTEMPT TO EXIT THE ARENA, YOU WILL BE KILLED IMMEDIATELY.”

On every side of the arena, people were looking at each other in confusion, most of them thinking this was some kind of a prank. As practiced, his warriors removed long coats they were wearing, to show suicide vests and menacing assault rifles in their hands.

“IF YOU PANIC AND TRY TO RUSH TOWARD THE EXITS, MY MEN WILL FIRE INTO THE CROWD AND MOST OF YOU WILL DIE. ALL THE EXITS ARE SECURED WITH EXPLOSIVES SO ONLY DEATH AWAITS YOU THERE. WE ARE DOING THIS FOR THE MONEY AND IF YOU FOLLOW MY INSTRUCTIONS, YOU WILL BE SAFELY HOME BY TONIGHT.”

Murat paused, looking at the sea of terrified faces; he has never felt so powerful in his life.

“I WILL CONTACT THE AUTHORITIES AND EVERYTHING WILL BE RESOLVED SOON. I REPEAT, STAY IN YOUR SEATS AND YOU WILL BE FINE, TRY TO LEAVE AND YOU WILL DIE.”

He turned off the microphone and his warrior disconnected the camera. Lying to these people was part of the plan, as were beheadings that would soon be transmitted to the entire world. He remembered the moment when his superiors first offered him the honor of leading this mission; his heart was filled with pride that they recognized in him the heart of a true believer.

Wails of police sirens could already be heard in the distance. Soon they will call him and he will give meaningless demands and will offer empty promises, to buy more time. When they come to a realization that he will not be swayed by their empty talk, they will attack. Murat longed for that moment, caressing the remote detonator held in his hand. The thought of being this close to heaven was filling his soul with joy.

***

Transporter 003

Destination: Millennial Sports Arena

Michael, Tyron, Pete, Al, and Alice were sitting inside the transporter, looking at the video feeds from the arena. The terrorists were broadcasting live, with the threat to kill one hostage for every minute the transmission was interrupted. They had already declared their demands: the release of all freedom fighters being held at Guantanamo Bay detention camp, official recognition of vast territories as ISIL sovereign state, withdrawal of all American troops from conflicted areas, and five billion dollars as a contribution to their cause.

As demands went, theirs were simply absurd, and there was no way the government would ever consent to any of them. Besides, Michael knew they were all a ruse to buy time and to make people watch this entire tragedy.

Alice was edgier than her usual composed self, there was a hollowness in her eyes that wasn’t there before. He would have to talk to her after this was over; some things should not remain locked inside, they tend to fester. Elizabeth and he exchanged a quick kiss when their transporters met, there was no time for words.

“Max, what is the situation there?” He asked aloud.

“I am observing them through the arena’s CCTV. There are fifteen terrorists on the premises, including their leader whom you saw making demands. I managed to identify him from immigration records; he is one Murat al-Rashid, originally from Yemen. For the last ten years, he has been an American citizen, working as a night guard at a fertilizer plant. Eight of the terrorists are on the exits to the main arena and they all have suicide vests, with a remote trigger held by their leader. Murat al-Rashid is in the media room with four others, he has the detonator on himself. With the press of a button, he can activate the truck bomb and the vests. The last two are in the garage, guarding the bomb truck.”

“Here is how we are going to play this one,” Michael said and pointed at the holographic representation of the arena in front of them. “Alice and Pete, since you are our best snipers, I want you on top of the roof, opposite each other. That is four bad guys each in quick succession, can you do it?”

Alice nodded her head, and Pete answered, “With faster reflexes and improved eye-hand coordination it will be a piece of cake, I’ve been practicing lately,” he boasted with a cocky smile.

“Al, I need you to take out the two guarding the bomb truck.”

“Sure boss, two customers to serve, no problemo,” Al answered and gave a thumbs up.

“Tyron and I have two missions; first we have to disable the explosives on the arena exits, and then deal with the leader and his helpers. We cannot allow them to react so all our attacks need to be executed simultaneously… understood?”

They all gave nods of confirmation.

“After our objectives are achieved, we need to extract ourselves immediately; this place will turn into a madhouse in no time with all law enforcement agencies coming on the scene.”

Max spoke through the speakers while his image was on one of the simulated monitors. “There are special nano-packs I created for you in the luggage compartment, simply place them on the bombs and they will disable them. Al, yours is the largest one and it needs to be placed on the bomb truck’s main trigger. Now, prepare yourself, we will arrive in two minutes.”

They put their helmets on and activated the camouflage. Five transparent specters in an invisible aircraft, prepared to harvest the lives of those who did not deserve them anymore.

***

Millennial Sports Arena

The bright lights of the Millennial Arena could be seen from a great distance. The transporter came out of the sky in a plummeting dive, which ended a few feet above the arena’s roof. Michael trusted Max’s flying skills, but there was a moment just before a full stop when his heartbeat increased. He did not have to worry; the AI had calculated the force needed to stop their descent up to an inch.

The transporter’s doors were turned away from the roof opening, to prevent the doors, which disrupted the crafts invisibility, from accidentally showing. Michael and his team jumped the two remaining feet onto the arena’s roof.

Alice and Pete immediately sprinted to their chosen spots, while Michael, Tyron, and Al went over the side of the roof. Hanging by their hands, they moved underneath it using support beams. It was the quickest route Max calculated taking into consideration their improved strength.

He could see thousands of people beneath him, all eerily silent. This was a place where they had come to relax and have some fun, but had turned into a place of fear and terror. His enhanced eyesight showed him many faces of terrified children, whom their parents were holding tight. As he explained to others, there will be no mercy or indecisions on this mission. They were here to eliminate the threat with the utmost prejudice.

There was a gap between the outer wall and the last seat stands, and they used it to lower themselves all the way to the ground level. It would have been almost impossible without the special transparent rope Max made, unwinding from a spool attached to their wrists. Just one of the gadgets the AI created while they had their training week.

As soon as they hit the ground, Al separated and started running towards the garage and the bomb truck, while Michael and Tyron split up in opposite directions, so they could disable the bombs on the entrance doors.

Michael was running at full speed, barely pausing to place the nano-packs on the explosives attached to the doors. He couldn’t linger and double-check everything, seconds were important in this situation, so he trusted Max’s assurances that the nano-packs would take care of the explosives. His battle-suit made him an almost invisible specter, running through the empty corridors. Only the sound his boots made while touching the floor gave any indication he was even there. To anyone else, he would appear as a fast distortion of air, a trick of the eye.

Five minutes later, he rendezvoused with Tyron, who had also finished his half of explosives neutralizing objective.

They climbed the stairs together, going toward the press center. Weapons, Max had made them, aimed toward the front of them. There was no need to scan the perimeter since the AI transmitted the exact position of every terrorist, but old habits die hard, and each of them was instinctively checking his sector.

The first thing Michael saw when they came to the glass doors of the press center was a deeply disturbing scene developing inside. Two young women and one boy, barely in his teens, were kneeling with their hands tied behind their backs. Behind them was a big black flag with some white writing on it, and in front of them, three terrorists were holding big scimitar swords in their hands.

One of the terrorists was behind a camera tripod filming the horrific scene. The leader was screeching into the lens about the just punishment of the infidels.

“We are out of time,” Michael said through the comm link. “This is going down now. Do all of you have your targets in the sights?”

Within a second, he received the confirmation.

“Tyron, the two with the swords on the left are yours, the leader, and one on the right is mine; cameraman is the last, so we can share. As soon as we start the music, Alice, Pete, and Al—neutralize your targets.”

“Okay, on one.”

The Boost running through his veins made the entire scene so much sharper. The whole team also activated Boost, so they could gain those precious seconds of slowed time and accelerated reflexes. Michael's hand was rock steady as he aimed at the forehead of the first terrorist assigned to him.

“Three…”

Murat al-Rashid was finishing his long rant and was starting to signal his executioners.

“… Two…”

The three men with balaclavas on their heads were raising their swords, positioning themselves behind their intended victims, preparing for the final act of decapitations.

“… One.”

Michael’s weapon, set on semi-auto, spat three flechettes into the Murat al-Rashid’s head. A fraction of a second later, the first terrorist with the sword received the same treatment. He followed his rifle sights to the cameraman; unfortunately, six flechettes didn’t do his skull any good as Tyron shot at him at the same instant, which made the top of his skull fall in a different direction than the rest of the body.

Eight suicide bombers did not fare very well either. In a span of a few seconds, their dead bodies were lying on the ground. Alice and Pete had practiced the exact order in which the marks should be eliminated, so when the time came to act their movements were precise, their aim unwavering.

Al was pulling the trigger when Michael said one, his second target joined the first in the span of a heartbeat. He entered the back of the truck only to see a big yellow barrel with a radiation sign on it. Attached to it was a complex explosive device with a mass of wires he couldn’t even dream of disarming. Luckily, he didn’t need to; Max’s nano-pack melted into it the moment he placed it on top of the device. All the indicator lights on the device dimmed and then turned off. He just shook his head and hurried towards the assembly point.

After taking the remote detonator from the terrorist leader, Michael and Tyron left three terrified people, who were still not sure what had just happened. Then, followed by Tyron, he quickly ran to the extraction point. Al joined them on the way, and they used the same ropes to climb back to the roof’s underside. The motorized spools were pulling them upwards at considerable speed. They repeated their monkey bars retreat and climbed to the top of the roof. Alice and Pete beat them to the transporter and were already sitting inside.

“Max, take us home,” Michael said as the transporter’s doors were closing.

The entire operation took only a few minutes of active time. It was done without unnecessary delays and procrastination. Most people never realized that these sorts of things were decided in a matter of seconds. It was as different from the movies as could be.

He looked at the four people beside him and was suddenly filled with such an overwhelming sense of pride. They had done it, they had saved so many souls today. He crossed his fingers that all of their missions ended up this easy, but he sincerely doubted it.

The invisible aircraft lifted from the Millennial Arena’s roof and silently glided into the dark sky.

----------------

"An ounce of sniper is worth a pound of suppressing fire."

Schlock Mercenary maxim

;)