“MOVE! TAC Channel Bravo!” MAJ Ward ordered as they retreated through the door and down a hallway filled with charred paper and wrecked furniture.

He switched over to the new communications channel and did a quick comms check as they moved with a purpose down the hall. They didn’t flee like a bunch of untrained teenagers. They moved tactically as they fell back deeper into the facility. There were doors evenly spaced down the hallway and they had to cover each of them as they passed. The rooms beyond them looked pretty ordinary: desks, computers, and office supplies like you’d see at any office in the US. The difference was that this hallway alone housed roughly a dozen offices, and a few were larger ones with cubicles. A quick tally told the MAJ nearly fifty people worked in this section alone.

“The objective has massive power requirements.” Cuthbert saw the MAJ looking at his surroundings. “I’ve kept a rough count and at least four hundred civilians work at this facility.”

“We guessed there would be civilians onsite, and that’s why we planned the raid at night. They might be helping the enemy, but they’re still civilians.”

They came to the first corner and CPL Dawson made the motion to freeze by holding up a fist. The marine poked the barrel of his rifle around the corner for a better look. The MAJ tapped into the rifle’s feed for better view.

The video wasn’t the best quality, but it showed another empty hallway in both directions.

“We need to take a right and get to the stairs at the end of the hallway.” Cuthbert informed. “We need to hurry. They were set to start testing the device an hour ago.”

“What?” The MAJ hissed. “Why the hell didn’t you . . .” his statement was cut off as gunfire filled the hallway.

“Contact rear!” He announced as he rotated one hundred and eighty degrees and opened fire.

An energy blast caught the lead enemy soldier in the chest and he went down, but they kept coming. They advanced down the hallway on either side and used the doors and offices as cover to protect their advance.

“We need to move!” The MAJ grunted as a round hit him in the chest but didn’t penetrate. “Dawson, get us the fuck out of here!”

“Go right!” Cuthbert yelled frantically.

“Fuck! I’m trying!” Dawson replied as more gunfire hit them from another position. The young marine stumbled from multiple impacts and ended up going straight into an adjacent office instead of to the right. “I’ve got a light machine gun to your left, my right.” The CPL’s voice was pained.

“McGee . . .”

“On it, Sir.” The CSGT poked his head around the corner quickly to evaluate the threat. “Cover me!” From one of his many pockets the CSGT pulled a cylinder-shaped grenade. He opened up his single barrel L96A1 and slid it into the chamber.

“Cover him.” The MAJ rotated from lasers to good old-fashioned bullets and poured it into the advancing enemy.

The doorway he was using as cover started to disintegrate under the combined return fire of the enemy, but he kept on shooting. If they couldn’t take out that light machine gun and get to the objective, they were totally fucked.

“Frag out!” The CSGT laughed as he pivoted around the corner and fired.

The ground rumbled beneath everyone’s feet as fire and shrapnel destroyed the machine gun and any soldier standing within ten feet of it.

“Move!” The MAJ physically grabbed LT Thrumball and threw him in the direction of the T intersection. “Right! Go right!”

They rounded the corner and abandoned tactical doctrine in order to sprint to safety. They made it a quarter of the way there before more gunfire tore into them from ahead. If not for the armor they’d all have been killed outright, but instead they walked away with a few flesh wounds and a lot of bruises.

“On me!” The CPL put his shoulder into a closed door and crashed into another office.

The group followed his lead.

“It’s the objective’s garrison.” Cuthbert was breathing heavily. He was lucky as hell to be alive. The MAJ knew that. He’d taken two rounds meant for the spy. “There are stairs at the end of the hallway that lead to the vault entrance.

“Objective’s garrison? I thought they were behind us.” PO2 Chambers was wrapping some gauze around his bicep that was bubbling blood.

“That’s the facility’s garrison. The objective has its own platoon-sized force protecting it.”

“Cuthbert, I know you’ve been a captive for a little while and might be off your game, but if we’re about to charge into thirty enemy soldiers please fucking tell me about it beforehand.” The MAJ resisted the urge to grab the spy by the throat and throw him back out into the hallway as a decoy.

“Noted, Major.”

The MAJ wanted to argue more, but they didn’t have time. He poked his rifle out and put more lead downrange. He caught two soldiers trying to sneak up on them and sent them both to meet their makers.

“We need to move.” Options were cycling through his mind, but the CSGT was way ahead of him.

“Allow me, gentlemen.” The man they called fire-crotch jumped to his feet, rolled his neck, and then ran shoulder first into the wall. The drywall crumbled under his assault, and a roughly human-shaped hole led the way into the next room.

“Go . . . Go!” The MAJ waved them through the improvised door while he provided cover fire.

His onslaught kept the enemies behind cover and allowed the CSGT and CPL Dawson to make a bigger hole into the next office, and the next one, and the next one. A minute later and they’d practically reached the stairwell, so of course that was when the universe decided to make their lives even more difficult.

The MAJ ducked just in time as rounds impacted the doorway above his head. “Shit!” he rolled away from the barrage and tossed a grenade at the facility’s garrison mustering behind him. It was a careless toss to buy time, and it worked.

He heard people scream as the grenade detonated. He figured they had thirty seconds before the facility’s garrison ventured forward and pinned the small Commonwealth team between them and the objective’s garrison. Either way, it was the definition of being caught between a rock and a hard place.

“We’ve got about twenty-five seconds before we get pinned.” The MAJ reached the rest of the team.

“And we’ve got more problems.” The SEAL PO2 had his gun on two women standing defiantly in the room across from his team.

“For fuck’s sake check my ID.” One woman, a tall Caucasian one with a scowl reached into her bra and pulled out a slip of plastic.

It looked like nothing but a spare piece of plastic, but she pressed her finger to it and spoke. “Call sign Trojan, security code Delta-Nine-Four-Charlie.”

The piece of clear plastic started to darken and resolve into an ID with three big letters written on top: CIA.

“Of course the Agency is here.” The MAJ grumbled. He’d seen these IDs before and so far he didn’t know if there was a way to counterfeit them. His armor also checked the woman’s ID against known assets in the area of operations and it checked out.

“And of course the army started to blow the shit out of my carefully planned op without so much as a friendly heads up.” Her eyes were filled with fire, which explained the two dead enemy soldiers on the ground.

A quick observation showed they’d been killed by a knife, not bullets or energy blasts.

“She’s with me.” The woman – a Dr. Elizabeth Shaw according to her ID – stepped in the SEAL’s line of fire when he turned his weapon on the other woman in the room.

She was short, Chinese, and had the same fire in her eyes that Dr. Shaw did.

“She’s my partner. Japanese Defense Force Captain Aiko Tanaka. She’s fluent in five languages, is a communications expert, and has been watching my back for weeks.” Dr. Shaw didn’t move despite the SEAL’s irritated look.

“What are you two . . .?” Cuthbert started to ask, but the MAJ cut them off.

“We don’t have time for this.” The whole exchange had taken half of the time they should have been getting out of here. “Chambers and Cuthbert watch them. We take them with us. If they’re really allies, they’ll help. If not, then we’ll use them as human shields and shoot them when we’re done.”

“Major that’s . . .”

“We don’t have time to argue, Doctor.” He cut her off and the look on his face shut her up. “We need to move.”

Dawson opened fire from the doorway. The enemy had taken the lack of counter fire as an excuse to move forward, and the marine made them pay for that.

“Everyone, frag grenades to the right on three. Does anyone have smoke?”

The CSGT nodded.

“Good. Smoke to the left to give us some cover. We’re charging the stairwell on a three-count after the grenades.”

The look on everyone’s faces said it was the last thing they wanted to do, but they knew they didn’t have a choice. Charges made good war stories, but the hardly ever worked out well for the people doing the charging.

“Smoke out.” The CSGT whispered as he lobbed another cylinder around the door and to the left. There was some yelling as the enemy saw it coming and ran, but then just a loud pop and hiss as the thick black gas expanded into the hallway.

“One . . . two . . . three!” The MAJ gave the gas a little time to expand before three grenades flew out of their room and to the right. He would have preferred they had more, but that was all the frag grenades they had left.

He held out his arm to stop Cuthbert from charging toward the stairwell too early. A moment later three loud BOOMs shook the building, and then they charged. No one sounded a war cry during their charge. It was stupid to let the enemy know you were coming to slit their throat, and in their case, to alert the garrison behind them that they were in the hallway.

They had fifteen yards to cross before they reached the stairwell. It looked like one of the grenades hadn’t made it into the doorway and exploded in the hallway. There was scaring from where the high-velocity shrapnel tore into the steel-reinforced walls, and burn marks near the site of detonation. There were also three torn up bodies, which they quickly stepped over.

The MAJ kept his rifle up for the first ten yards. It was still the most efficient way to kill the enemy if they poked their head out on the approach. Once he was within five meters he slung the weapon around to his back. The sling strap caught the M18 and kept it from falling, but it still made him grimace as it smacked into a spot on his back where he’d been shot only a few minutes before. He ignored the pain as he reached across to his left side where a wicked looking knife was sheathed.

It was a six-inch K-Bar given to him by an old First Sergeant when he was a company commander. The MAJ didn’t know it at the time, but the old NCO spent a pretty penny on the parting gift. It was a top of the line model and coated in some synthetic crap that was supposed to keep it sharp. A knife you never had to spend time sharpening was a precious tool in the MAJ’s line of work.

There was no time to be coy at the entrance to the stairwell. They were in a situation where the violence of action would determine the victor. The MAJ went right while LT went left. Immediately, the MAJ came face-to-face with a ragged looking Chinese officer. His eyes were a little unfocused and he had some light bleeding, but otherwise he was still prepared to fight.

Until the MAJ ran his knife through the man’s chest.

He pushed the Chinese officer back, smacking him into another soldier who was trying to get to his feet. Behind that was a wall. The MAJ pinned the enemy officer against the wall and gave a jerk upward with the knife. The man cried out in pain as the MAJ cut into something vital, and then coughed up blood in a gurgle of fear as the Ranger lifted him up and tossed him over the railing to their left. The man’s screams as he fell didn’t hinder the MAJ from turning on the remaining soldier. The man was on his knees going for his own knife. The MAJ kicked him savagely in the face. It shattered the enemy’s nose, knocked him back to the ground, and gave the Ranger an easy opening to jab his knife into the man’s spine.

The MAJ’s eyes swept the scene looking for more targets, but there were none. It looked like the other two grenades found their mark and killed another half dozen men at the top of the stairwell.

“They didn’t send the whole garrison.” Cuthbert did the math as the rest of the team streamed into the small space and took up positions to cover the hallway to their rear. “How are we going to get down?”

CSGT McGee answered the question with a flourish. He pulled a large loop of rope off his shoulders and went to work tying a knot to the thick railing. The MAJ could imagine the royal marine whistling some tune while he worked. The knot was done in seconds. The MAJ checked it and gave it an experimental tug. Air Assault school had taught him the same knot, and the CSGT had done it flawlessly.

“I hope you know how to rappel?” The MAJ turned to Cuthbert, Dr. Shaw, and Captain Tanaka. The soldiers had harnesses built into their armor, but the others didn’t.

“Can’t we just take the stairs?” Shaw looked over the edge and her face paled a little.

It was covered in grime from walking through the cloud of dust from the grenades, but he could still make out some freckles. Her blonde hair had a gray tinge to it now, but her eyes were determined, and she swept her hair back in her hands and started to tie it up with a small band. The Japanese officer didn’t have any difficulties with her chin-length hair.

“No time.” The MAJ shook his head. “Dawson you go first and do your recon thing; then you ladies, followed by Cuthbert, and then Chambers. The LT and I will be the last to go. Now hurry!” He could already hear shouts and footsteps getting closer as the facility garrison probed the black smoke swirling in the hallway.

The MAJ gave one last look over the railing. It was about three stories to where the Chinese officer’s body lay spread-eagled on the ground in a growing pool of blood. He ignored the inconvenient landing he’d have in the near future and turned his attention to the hallway.

The two females took hold of the rope one by one and wrapped their legs around it. They didn’t have gloves, so they had to go down hand over hand while controlling their descent by putting pressure on the rope with their legs. It was slow going, but once they got down the soldiers would be able to haul ass.

The MAJ and LT paid attention to the hallway during all of this. The black smoke spoofed IR and the normal mark-one eyeball. Millimeter wave radar wasn’t much better, but the MAJ didn’t think the garrison was as well-equipped as his team. They were going for quantity over quality, which was a theme the Commonwealth had seen throughout the war. The UK-US forces might inflict severe casualties on the enemy, but lost the battle because the Easterners overran them and accomplished their mission. The MAJ heard their Space Corps was doing much better, but for the grunts on the ground it was a constant pain in the ass.

The LT didn’t have to announce contact when the first of the enemy garrison emerged through the smoke. He just dropped the guy with two center-mass shots. The MAJ engaged his own targets. They divided their field of fire easily. He took the right side of the hallway and the LT took the left. They took their time and moved methodically from target to target until a small mountain of bodies blocked anyone from passing.

“I’m heading down.” The CSGT tapped the MAJ on the shoulder.

Carabiners could be heard snapping into place and then the hiss of the CSGT fast roping down to the bottom. The soldiers didn’t have to go down hand over hand. They just needed to apply pressure to the rope by tugging it taut behind their back when they got close to the ground and physics stopped them.

“Moving.” The LT announced as he peeled away from the doorway. It was a given that the MAJ would be the last man down.

The MAJ gave it a ten-count after he heard the LT started rappelling before turning and hurriedly attaching and feeding the rope through his harness. He made sure to do it off to the side so he wasn’t an easy target for the enemy, but he’d eventually have to step into the open to make the drop. He took two deep breaths, rushed into the open, and jumped over the edge. Right before he cleared the railing he saw two metallic balls heading in his direction.

The enemy had finally taken a page from their playbook.

“Grenade!” The MAJ didn’t bother putting any pressure on the rope and dropped as fast as possible.

The grenade detonated with two ear-splitting BOOMS. The MAJ and the team were down and far enough away to be out of the kill zone, but the sound bounced around the stairwell and amplified it. The women and Cuthbert winced in agony as their eardrums were assaulted, but the soldiers’ helmets protected them.

The one thing that wasn’t protected was the rope.

The MAJ felt it start to give and immediately hit the brakes. He came to a relative stop eight or so feet off the ground before it snapped and he fell. He hit the ground with his feet together, knees bent, and immediately went into a parachute landing fall. The PLF was a technique taught in Airborne School on how to properly land, and it worked in this situation.

He pitched to the side when he landed, collapsing and twisting so he took the brunt of the landing on his five points of contact: balls of the feet, heels of the feet, thighs, ass, and shoulder. Instead of breaking his ankle on the fall, the MAJ went through the practiced roll and popped back to his feet. The most painful part of the experience was his M18 jamming into his kidney, but he’d live.

“Let’s move.” He pointed down the only way they could go.

“The vault is just up here.” Cuthbert informed.

Sure enough, a big steel door sat at the end of an undefended hallway. The problem was that it was locked.