Part VIII

Part VIII

Andrew had to plan his next move carefully. He was but a mere 10 feet away from what could cause a nuclear war between Russia and the world. In his way were three of the Lieutenant General’s guards, and one of “The Fortress’” guards, all of which were armed, either openly or hidden away. He already knew this Astapkovich was armed, having seen what he did to Geppetto.

He was bringing up the rear, the other guard leading the way.

“What can I possibly do,” he thought to himself, “The fate of the world is depending on him.”

It was time for him to do something rash, something that goes against his training, but it’s the only option he could think of. He turned around to look over his shoulder, no one back there. Up ahead was a corner of a wall, jettisoning out, and an easy cover for him.

He was approaching it, about to pass it, and quickly stepped behind it. Looking around it, the group continued to walk. Andrew took a deep breath, and picked up the AK-47 that was slung over his shoulder. From the corner, he began shooting a barrage of bullets into the escorts to the Lieutenant General. Both of them took multiple shots in the back, blood pouring from the wounds. His fellow “guard” quickly grabbed the Lieutenant General and pulled him out of danger. The two escorts lay on the ground, not expecting what had brought them to their end.

Andrew stopped firing. The echoes of the last bullets reverberated through the hallway. Additional guards could be there in any minute. It was impossible for no one to have heard the rapid fire. Andrew looked around the corner again, looking for the two remaining members of the group. They were out of sight, but Andrew was sure they were not out of the fight. He kept looking down from where he had come to be sure no one was coming from behind him, still clear.

Andrew took another breath and took a small step out from behind his barrier. He took a couple steps before fire had come from down the hallway to his left. Andrew scurried back to his hiding spot, heartbeat racing and sweat gathering on his forehead.

He jumped out again, this time sending random spurts of gunfire towards the corner the other bullets had originated from. The idea was to keep the other gunman behind there, so he could make it to one of the guards, searching for the manila folder.

The first guard he came to had used his last ounce of strength to roll over onto his back, lying face up. That made it easier for Andrew to keep sending out random bursts of gunfire, while also searching for the disc. Andrew tore through the guard’s uniform, thinking he had put it inside his jacket for protection. Nothing could be found.

Andrew’s bursts continued, but he knew the clip wouldn’t last. He quickly moved onto the next one, lying on his stomach. Like the last he searched the body’s uniform looking for the folder hidden for protection. He flipped the body over, but still found nothing.

Blood covered his hands from the bodies of the slain guards, but he couldn’t worry about that now. On to the last body which was another lying on his stomach. He quickly turned him over and stuffed behind his jacket and the top of his pants was the folder. Andrew pulled it quickly, and as he did so, he heard the worst sound imaginable; his AK-47 was out of ammo. The empty sound of clicking trigger shot fear throughout his spine. He quickly sprinted back to his hiding area, from where he emerged. Bullets began to wiz past him as he dove into the shallow corner, his body colliding with the wall. The bullets continued to fly past him.

Catching his breath, he looked at the blood soaked folder, and as the guard carrying it had done, put it inside his shirt, and let it sit between his body and the waist of his pants. He pulled out his Beretta, and the Walther PPK. Feeling no need for the silencer, he separated it from the Walther, and shoved into his pocket. He peered around the corner. Within his sight, it was clear. He made a mad dash down the hall from which he had come, constantly looking over his shoulder in case anyone could have followed him.

He searched for a door that he had noticed earlier labeled “Roof Access”. That was his escape route, the only real possible route he could attempt. Andrew was able to make it to the corner of the next hallway without being shot at.

“Perhaps he ran out of bullets,” Andrew thought to himself, “or maybe he’s repositioning himself. The sounds of footsteps coming fast towards him at the end of the hallway were now appearing. Orders were being yelled in Russian from every possible direction. He was expecting the worse, and was damn near ready to accept his fate, whatever that should be.

Andrew ducked inside an open door into an office. Windows peering out into the hall showed the number of guards looking for him, most of which passed by the office. Once it looked clear, Andrew made a move down the hallway looking for his exit.

Turning yet another corner, he found his ticket out of here. The white door labeled in red “Roof Access”. He made a mad dash for it, pulling at the door handle and opening the door. As soon as the door was opened, an alarm was triggered and the sound echoed throughout the entire building.

Around the corner came a guard quickly trying to find the source of the alarm. As quickly as he turned the corner he yelled to his comrades of Andrew’s location, quickly firing some shots at him. The bullets hit the metal door.

During a break from the bullets, Andrew peered out from behind the door and shot off five quick shots one right after the other, two of which hit. The guard went down, and Andrew lunged up the stairs. He pounded his boots hard against every metal step, echoing through the small, closed space in which the stairs were located.

Andrew reached the exit door of the three story building, only really going up one flight of stairs. He crouched next to it and carefully pushed the metal door, allowing him to move from the warm interior into a snowy and bitter exterior. He was on the roof.

He checked all around him, but he was alone. There were no snipers in the guard towers, but he could see guards and soldiers scrambling in the courtyard to try and delay his escape. Looking around, Andrew checked his bearings, trying to find where he had come from. He found the entrance on the ground, where the two guards had been when he entered earlier. A nearby connecting hallway was his way out. Paying no mind to the soldiers below, he ran quickly across the closed in bridge that connected the interior building to the exterior wall.

Two pistols still clenched in his hands, Andrew fought the harsh winter, and the possibility of being sighted. Luck was seemingly on his side however. He reached the edge of the exterior wall, and looked down the three stories that he would have to jump. Andrew looked into the shadows of where his escapades here had started. He looked around and quickly jumped, landing in a mountain of snow. Andrew was out.

Collecting himself, Andrew stood up, looked around and began to trek carefully back to his sniper location. He looked at the entrance gates, now being placed by large mechanical doors. “The Fortress” was now completely sealed off.

He returned his Beretta into the holster on his right hip, keeping only the Walther out. Placed his hand over his stomach, he felt for the folder, still tucked away between his shirt and the top of his waist line.

“IGEN, this is Tarzan,” he said into his microphone. “I’m heading towards extraction point alpha, awaiting vehicular transportation to extraction point beta for helicopter transport. ETA is 20 minutes. Possibility of being followed is minimal”

“Roger that Tarzan. Transportation will be there awaiting you.” Godfather immediately responded. “Did you find Geppetto.”

“Geppetto is dead, sir. He was executed by a Russian Lieutenant General by the name of Aleksandr Astapkovich, literally a few minutes after I had arrived. There was nothing I could do.”

“You did fine, Tarzan. It’s a terrible loss. Did you gather any information?”

“Just about everything they were planning, sir, all rests within a manila folder.”

“Bravo,” said Godfather. “I look forward to hearing your report when you arrive. Report in when you returned to Alpha. Maintain radio silence for now.”

“Roger, over and out.” Andrew stayed quiet and continued his travels through the flying snow in front of him. It had been nearly a successful mission. After this, he could take a nice vacation.