Axis Files: Operation Badger - Chapter 5

Sean knew his shot missed the mark. The target shrank out of view in his scope as the bullet whizzed by Pushnaya’s head.

The big flatbed truck, however, could not be avoided.

Sean watched as the heavy vehicle drilled the front end of the SUV, flipped it onto its side, and barreled across the loading yard until it smashed into a stack of shipping containers. The steel box on top of the stack wobbled, and for a second Sean thought it might topple over, but it held in place—due only to the fact that the SUV struck the end instead of the broadside.

Smoke and steam billowed from the hood of the big truck. More escaped the mangled SUV, and Sean wondered if the vehicle might ignite. He also spent two seconds concerned about the driver of the flatbed.

“That was perfect timing,” Sean said into his radio.

A female voice answered. “Ugh. Good thing I wore my seatbelt. I didn’t think it was going to be that jarring. Next time, you drive the ambush truck.”

“Hey, this whole partner thing is a first for Axis from what I understand. Who knows if they do it again? Now, if you don’t mind, I need to clean up in the warehouse. Don’t let Pushnaya get away.”

Gunfire from the gate echoed his concerns. “May want to handle those two first.”

“On it,” the woman said.

Sean saw the driver’s side door open to the big truck. An athletic figure clad in tight black tactical gear hopped down, her face covered with a mask that only revealed her eyes.

The woman moved with the lethal grace of a prowling panther, scanning the area for the best route to her quarry.

Sean spun away from Agent Starks as she slipped around the halted flatbed, stalking the two men who’d left their post at the gate to pursue the driver of the truck.

Inside the warehouse, Sean knew there were still several gunmen. Two were dead, that much he could figure, but there were two by the door and two more near barricades when he’d sprung the trap.

A quick peek inside revealed those targets were—as he already knew—no longer in their previous positions.

Steam hissed and spewed out of the wrecked SUV at the corner of the hanging door. Coolant and transmission fluid dripped from fractures in the radiator and transmission case, mixing into a dark, obscure color on the ground.

Sean crept up next to the driver’s door and stole a look inside. The two henchmen didn’t move. One had a bloody patch on the back of his skull where he hit the windshield. The other remained slumped over with his head resting just over the left shoulder. Bullet holes oozed blood from his neck, chest, and forehead. Based on the amount of crimson pooling in the passenger floorboard, Sean knew some of the rounds had hit the other guy as well.

He ejected the magazine from his weapon and replaced it before sliding along the side of the SUV to the rear end. To his right, a gunman popped up from behind a concrete barrier and fired.

Where he stood, Sean was a sitting duck, but the shooter only managed three misplaced shots before Sean replied with a series of his own.

The bullets pounded the concrete blockade and sent the man sprawling for cover again.

That’s one of them, Sean thought. Uncertain where the others might be hiding, he decided to do as he’d been trained and address the known threat first.

He sprinted from his position and ducked behind a stack of dusty pallets. From there, he had the shooter flanked, but there was no way to know if he had also been flanked.

Sean’s eyes danced around the building as he crept around the edge of the wooden shelter. The gunman hadn’t seen Sean’s move and still crouched behind the barrier. Sean watched as the man popped up and took aim, thinking his quarry might still be where he’d last seen him.

Sean lined up his sights and squeezed the trigger twice. The bullets lodged in the man’s torso, just under the armpit. The gunman fell over on his side, writhed for half a minute, then lie still.

More gunshots opened from across the facility. Two shooters fired in Sean’s direction, but the men were too far away for their short-range weapons to be effective.

Sean ducked back behind the pallets and waited for the men to cease fire and replace their magazines.

More gunfire came from a third angle, this one closer to the door on the other side of the warehouse. Bullets pinged off the metal walls and thumped into concrete. The shots might have been inaccurate, but a blind squirrel gets a nut now and then, and Sean didn’t want to be the nut.

He was pinned down, and with Emily handling business outside, Sean had to figure out a way to take out the three enemies without giving them a clean shot.

To his right, between him and the newly dead gunman, a forklift sat pointed directly at the two men on the far side of the warehouse. Upon closer inspection, Sean also noted the propane tanks on the backside of the machine. An idea popped into Sean’s mind and without thinking twice, he sprang from cover and darted over to the forklift.

More bullets snapped at the surrounding air. Some ricocheted off of steel or concrete. He took three seconds to catch his breath, then crawled around to the front of the machine and checked inside. Sean worried, momentarily, that he’d have to figure out how to hotwire the thing, but that concern vanished when he saw the keys dangling in the ignition.

He turned the key, and the engine sputtered to life. The gunmen opened fire again.

Sean used the forklift for cover, raising the front loader with a lever on the left. The shooter on his right side was blocked by the machine’s body.

With no time to make sure the thing was aimed perfectly, Sean shifted the forklift into gear and watched as it rumbled forward across the empty warehouse floor. He ducked behind another concrete barrier and watched the gunmen targeting the machine, which they apparently believed he was operating despite no visual sign of him on board.

Gunfire popped rampantly. Sparks flew off the forklift’s metal body. It narrowly missed the remaining Range Rovers parked near the front door and skimmed by one of the dead men Sean had eliminated earlier.

Sean raised his rifle and lined up the fuel tank. His finger tensed on the trigger. He waited until the forklift was within range of the two men farthest from him. When it was between them both, Sean squeezed the trigger. The bullet sparked off of the yellow steel frame near the propane tank. He took a deep breath and squeezed again. The second round deflected off of a roll bar just beneath the tank.

With a sigh, Sean tightened his grip and steadied his breathing. He was only going to get one more shot at this, and if he missed, taking out the three gunmen would be much tougher.

He held his breath, then released as his finger pulled back on the trigger.

A bright orange-yellow flame exploded from the forklift. The sphere of fire expanded in an instant, consuming the two gunmen. The concussion rocked the entire building down to its foundation. The floor shook under Sean for a second and then was still once more.

Sean knew the third gunman to his right was probably unaffected by the blast, except for causing the man to duck for cover.

Sean stood from his shelter and hurried around the wall of K-rails toward the front entrance. He found the gunman crouching behind a stack of sheet metal. The man saw Sean too late and caught four rounds to the chest. He slumped against the stack and over onto his side.

Finally, the flurry of activity caught up to Sean, and he breathed heavily for a minute. Then, he realized Emily was still outside dealing with the guards. She was every bit the agent as him, but there’d always been something deep inside him that felt the need to help. It wasn’t a savior complex. At least that’s what he told himself. But no matter the situation, Sean had trouble sitting on the sidelines for anything.

He hurried out the door, and into the spitting Moldovan rain and skidded to a stop. Looking to his left, Sean found Emily standing out in the open near the gate. She stood between two bodies, one at either side of the entrance, a pistol in her hand.

Sean breathed easier and walked toward her. Emily holstered her weapon and sauntered away from the gate, meeting Sean halfway across the span of the lot.

When the two met, she lowered her mask and grinned. Her dark brown hair dangled freely off of her shoulders, catching the rain.

“Perfect timing, Agent Starks,” Sean said with an affirming nod.

She looked around at the shipping yard for a few seconds and then returned his gesture. “Efficient. Clean. I’d say we did all right for the first tandem mission.”

“The director and the president should be pleased.”

“Yes.” There was a coolness to her voice, an absence of emotion that sent a chill through Sean’s spine.

He was about to suggest they steal one of the Range Rovers and get out of there when he saw something shift over her shoulder twenty yards away, where the flatbed truck pinned Pushnaya’s ride against a shipping container.

Sean only had enough time to make one move as Pushnaya emerged from the SUV’s shattered back window. Sean abruptly reached out, grabbed Emily by the shoulders, and shoved her to the ground.

Pushnaya extended the long pistol barrel and fired. Sean dove to the right, twisting in the air to raise his rifle before he hit the wet ground. The impact jarred him and jammed the gun’s stock into his ribs. He rolled to the right even as Pushnaya continued firing at will with one thunderous boom after another.

Bullets splashed in puddles and exploded chunks of wet pavement around Sean. He rolled over again, watching the dazed Russian fire his weapon. The recoil was too much for the man to handle, and every shot sent his gun hand up several inches, almost to his face.

Another round flashed from the muzzle and Sean felt debris rain onto his face. He settled on his belly and lined up the sight with Pushnaya’s face. The Russian’s pistol lowered. The big man bled from a gash on the side of his head and cuts on his cheeks. He glowered at Sean as he tried to aim the sights at his target.

Sean’s finger tightened on the trigger, and he squeezed.

The last look on Pushnaya’s face was one of grim resignation, realizing that he was a dead man.

He managed to fire a shot, but his aim was high and the bullet sailed into the rainy night. Sean’s round, however, zipped through the target just below Pushnaya’s left eye. The big man slumped forward onto his face and lay motionless.

Sean breathed heavily for several seconds, keeping his focus on the target in case the man got up, which he quickly realized was beyond paranoid.

He scrambled to his feet and glanced over at Emily, who had drawn her weapon again and held it pointed toward Pushnaya’s SUV. Upon seeing the exit wound, she lowered her pistol but kept it ready in case of any other surprises.

“You okay?” Sean asked, stopping a few feet to her right.

“Yeah,” she said with a nod, but her voice betrayed a hint of shakiness. “I’m good.”

“Guess we should be more careful.”

“Yes. Careful would be good.”

Sean took a few steps closer to the SUV and looked inside. Pushnaya’s driver’s head was twisted at an impossible angle, his neck broken.

“Well, he’s definitely not getting up again,” Sean stated. He looked back at the warehouse. “As I was about to say a minute ago, let’s get out of here. Call the director?”

“On it.”

She took out a cell phone and pressed a button. The speed dial connected her after some crackling. It rang one time before a gruff voice answered. “Go ahead, operator.”

“Confirm code badger.”

“Confirmed. Status?”

“Complete, sir.”

“Thank you, operator.”

“Yes, sir. Leaving now.”

She ended the call and stuffed it into a pocket. She would destroy the device and drop it in a river at the first bridge they crossed.

Sean led the way back into the warehouse to one of the remaining, undamaged SUVs and opened the door to the driver’s side. He was about to step in when Emily beat him to it, slipping in just in front of him.

“Polite for you to hold the door for a lady,” she said coyly.

He offered a defeated smirk in reply.

“Didn’t know you wanted to drive,” he said. “Fine by me.”

He shut the door when she was comfortably in the seat and made his way round the front. When he’d settled in the passenger seat, she revved the engine.

“Where’s your drop off,” she asked.

“Not far from here,” he answered.

Emily looked pensive for ten seconds before turning to face him. “Thanks again, partner,” she managed.

Sean disarmed her with a wry grin. “Whoa, easy. We don’t know if this is a one-time thing or what.”

She chuckled. “I have a feeling we’ll be doing this more often than not.”