By
Frank Comey
The soft hum of the van lulled the representatives to sleep.
The Expo committee members traveled back to the hotel to enjoy a relaxing night. Unknown to the committee, a parked sedan lay in wait for them, prepared to t-bone their unsuspecting victims. The van crossed the target area. The sedan sped up and smashed into the side of the van. Inside, drinks splashed and people lurched. The collision sent the loud noise of crunching metal through the until-then quiet night. A gang of masked men rushed the van. Grabbing the committee of Expo members, the gunmen escaped into the night.
“So that’s your conclusion, huh?” Terrell Hazard stood at the crime scene next to a local inspector. The street was littered with car parts and smashed glass.
“Any leads about where these guys went?” Terrell questioned the Inspector.
“Bystanders said a white sedan appeared out of the alleyway and smashed into the committee’s van. Then, another van pulled up and took the men away down Dong Xi Road. There are security tapes that show the gunmen in action, so some of my men are working on putting together a profile of these criminals.”
Terrell turned around without thanking the inspector and walked back to his Ford GT. As the engine started, he whipped out his cell phone and dialed in a number.
“Hey, I’m coming by. We’ve got some new stuff to take care of. I’ll tell you about it when I get there.”
Flying through the Shanghai streets, Terrell Hazard was not your average person. At six feet four inches in height, Terrell was a tall African American. Years of hard work and training had earned him a chiseled appearance with standout athleticism. Wind whipped his face, but Terrell remained undaunted as his black and white convertible zoomed into the financial district of Lujiazui, Shanghai. A cold autumn wind blew through naked, leafless trees that were spread out among the gray buildings that surrounded them. Locals visiting the various pavilions packed the dusty Shanghai streets.
Unlike the locals, Terrell wasn’t there to the visit. Terrell and his team of highly trained S.W.A.T. professionals were employed in the toughest situations. Essentially a private security organization, they were known across the world as Exterminate Insurgents and Retrieve Personnel, or E.I.A.R.P. This case was right in their field, and they were the best at what they did, retrieving hostages. Once the kidnapping of the Expo committee was reported, the scrambling local authorities called E.I.A.R.P.
Terrell strolled into the building from which E.I.A.R.P. operated. The headquarters were in Los Angeles, but this building served well as a temporary base of operations. Terrell’s team sat waiting in the briefing room. His team consisted of other American law enforcement personnel, including Jay Dobbs, Hernandez, Alex Lee, Marcus Battle, and Jordan Russell. They were like a group of friends, but when a job came in, they were all business.
Hernandez, a Puerto Rican immigrant, grew up in an urban neighborhood, and eventually left the Los Angeles police department to join Terrell’s team. Jay Dobbs hailed from Arizona. Once a Hell’s Angel, he gave up his biker ways and went to LA in search of a job. He still carried around the Hell’s Angels’ favorite weapon, a sledgehammer. Marcus Battle, a boyhood friend, grew up in Terrell’s neighborhood. Jordan Russell and Alex Lee originally worked in San Jose working as part of a S.W.A.T. team, but they also left to join Terrell’s team.
At the core of the organization was Terrell Hazard. Born in Compton, California, Terrell grew up in an inner-city environment. Terrell thrived in the ghetto and was well on his way to becoming a young crime lord when his life changed. On his last day of high school, gunmen shot up his house in a drive-by shooting. While he partied with his friends, gang members brutally murdered his family. The heavy loss struck Terrell and led to soul-searching depression. More than once, Terrell had led such raids that ended in multiple shootings.
Seeing what he had become and what he was doing to the people in his community, he lit out of Compton and decided to spend his life stopping the people that were just like what he used to be, a criminal. Terrell enlisted in the United States Army and found refuge. Eventually going on to become a Navy Seal, Terrell served for ten years, working his way up to becoming a Lieutenant Colonel. Terrell eventually left the Army with an honorable discharge. He then started E.I.A.R.P. to keep his vow. And now he found himself on another high-stakes mission, just another day in the life of Terrell Hazard.
On the first day of the investigation, his team had made a good start. After meeting with local law enforcement to make vague profiles of the gunmen, they currently probed tediously through the security tapes, looking for a lead.
“Man, we’ve been looking through this tape for hours. I don’t know about you guys, but I can’t see anything,” Jay complained.
“I’m telling you Jay, if you had a bit more tolerance for tedious work, you’d be unstoppable.” Terrell still peered closely at the screen in front of them. “Look at the monitor. There.” He pointed to a shadow coming from an alleyway near the parked sedan. “That’s a silhouette. Someone else witnessed the kidnapping. He probably lit out when the kidnapping went down.” True to Terrell’s words, once the crash happened, a figure racing down the alleyway replaced the silhouette.
“Gotcha.” The tape stopped with the image of the pedestrian racing down the alley.
“Poking around, don’t we? Come on Terrell, that’s grunt work!” Jay was not the type that enjoyed Q and A.
“You’re learning already, man.” Terrell laughed as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
“Darn.”
* * *
The day had been uneventful. After following the lead, they had searched through the local hutongs for anyone who had witnessed the crime. Nobody came forward. Silence held the community in a deadlock. As the team drove back to headquarters, a melancholy feeling drenched over them. They talked dully over their radios.
“Okay. That was a complete waste of time.” Hernandez was in a poor mood after he had stepped in a puddle of unknown origins.
“Can’t disagree with you there. That guy in the video sure can disappear at will. No doubt he’s used to it,” Terrell said. “Better luck tomorrow, eh?”
“I hope so. I want to get to the exciting part of this mission. Grunt work isn’t my thing.” Jay wasn’t pleased with the day’s exploits either.
The team pulled up to the headquarters. They saw a note pasted on the door. A message was written in scrawled Chinese characters.
“Yo, Lee!”
“What’s up, guys?” Lee stepped out of his sleek, customized Nissan 350Z.
“What does this say? Since you’re the only one that reads Chinese, you need to get over here.” Lee strolled over to the rest of the team as they crowded around the small note.
“It reads, ‘Come to Gong Qing Amusement Park at 4 PM, tomorrow. Make sure you aren’t being tailed. If they find me, they will kill me.”
“Man,” Terrell exclaimed after Lee had translated the message. “This is getting serious. But as far as I’m concerned, this is the only lead that we’ve got. We’ve been waiting for something like this for five days. Following this is the best thing we can do right now. All the same, we better get strapped. Go with light arms. I want y’all up and ready right here at 8:00 AM sharp. Especially you, Lee.”
* * *
The day promised to be a dreary one. A morning haze hung over the dusty Shanghai streets. Terrell and his team arrived at the slightly remote Gong Qing Amusement Park and paid their tolls.
“This is ridiculous,” grumbled Terrell as he forked over twenty kuai. “Couldn’t we have met somewhere that didn’t rip you off?”
Terrell led his team through the gates of the Amusement Park. The Expo hogged the limelight, and people flocked there for entertainment. Gong Qing Amusement Park was barren compared to their usual attendance.
“Now what do we do?” Jordan said aloud.
“I guess we just wait,” replied Marcus. “That dude wasn’t very specific with his little note.”
Not soon after the words had left his mouth, a man with a leather jacket and fake Nike’s walked towards them.
“You are the special team, right?”
“Yes, we are,” answered Lee. “You wrote us that note?”
“That was I. What I came to tell you was this. The men who kidnapped those Expo officials were Middle-Eastern. Their language sounded like Hebrew or some sort of Arabic,” the man whispered uneasily.
“Wait. That’s it?” Jordan asked plainly.
“Yes. I hope it will help you to save those people. What is this world coming to?” mumbled the man as he strolled away.
* * *
Back at headquarters, Terrell and his team diligently investigated every vague clue. A clock chimed ten times, indicating 10:00 PM. Terrell set his magnifying glass on top of a blurry photo and saw his team feverishly working to find any possible clue to the kidnapper’s whereabouts.
“Honestly guys, I don’t see how that guy helped us much. I don’ t mean to be stereotypical, but aren’t most terrorists these days from the Middle East?” Terrell questioned.
“You’re right, Terrell, but most of those terrorists try to damage America. Why would they want to ransom some Expo officials? It just doesn’t match their usual motives.” Lee answered quickly. “Local help has been non-existent, and I think it’s time we look for help on the international stage. Now, the man said that the kidnappers were Middle Eastern. We need to contact Middle-Eastern governments. Maybe they will know something about these men and if they have any connections back home.”
“Okay, sounds like a plan,” sighed Terrell. “I’m going to grab a coffee. Battle, I want you on the phone with the Israeli consulate. Tell them we need to contact someone about possible insurgents.”
As Terrell crossed the threshold, Jordan caught up to him.
“Hold up, man, I’m coming with you. My eyelids are dropping like weights.” Jordan was usually the one that nodded off during the late hours. He rushed up to the automatic doors and they started making their way to the closest cafe.
* * *
Once Terrell and Jordan returned from their quick coffee break, they got some good news from Marcus.
“We’ve got something. I talked to a government agent from Israel and they informed us of some deserters. They had issues with authority during their time in training, and unlike many other soldiers, these men were inhumane in their short stint on the battlefield. They had malice, unlike the other honest soldiers. It was clear that their intentions were not to serve the country. Unfortunately, before they could be detained, they lit out of the country. I guess the Israelis trained them pretty well because the men haven’t been located yet. The Israeli secret service is sending over the files of the men. Most importantly, we’ve got to watch their leader. He’s known as Ali K. I took one look at his picture, but that was all I needed. These guys are definitely trouble.”
“Great, just what we needed. A bunch of crazy ex-soldiers who have a genuine sense of what they’re doing,” Jordan complained.
“They’ll give us a run for our money, but it’s not every day you see an Israeli in Shanghai. Besides, there are so many people on the streets that they’ve bound to be sighted somewhere. We just need to do some more poking around.” Terrell announced confidently. “Let’s all get some sleep. Who knows, maybe there will be some excitement tomorrow.”
A solitary scoff came from Jay, already headed for the door.
* * *
The team of six men walked into the local bar. Eyes shifted towards them, then quickly away. Terrell realized that everyone inside knew that they were law enforcement of some kind. That was a risk they were going to have to take.
“I always liked to think that the local watering hole was the best place for street knowledge.” Terrell spoke to Marcus.
“Yeah, but they ain’t always the friendliest bunch if I get what I’m saying,” came Marcus’ grumbling reply as he returned the customers’ glares with dirty looks of his own. The place was swarming with shady characters. “Lee, you better take this one.”
“What do you have on draft?” inquired Lee as he walked up the beat-up bar table.
“Heineken and Qingdao. Whaddaya want?” came the sullen reply from the bartender.
“I’ll have a Heineken. I was wondering if you could answer some questions.”
The bartender’s eyes widened. “Oh, no you don’t. I’m not getting mixed up in any of this police business. I try my best to run an honest business and—”
Lee quickly cut off the nervous man. “Don’t worry, sir. I just want to know if you’ve seen anyone out of place, maybe with a Middle-Eastern look to them. We’re not going to be hauling anyone in today.”
The barkeep loosened up. “Well, you should ask Dao about that one. He usually knows the word on the street better than me.” The bartender scanned the room. “Hey Dao, come here!”
A man slowly crept towards the door, looking to be unnoticed.
“Sir!” Lee called out. Dao looked up with a sense of alarm and bona fide fear. He picked up a pint glass, threw it at Lee, and immediately raced out of the door. The glass narrowly missed Lee’s head as it shattered harmlessly on the bar’s back wall. The team was hot on his tail, hopping over tables to get to the door.
“This one’s a runner,” exclaimed Marcus, in an almost happy voice. “Get back here, punk!” Jay gave chase as well, although not quite as efficiently as his counterpart.
Terrell motioned for Jordan and Lee to hop into their cars. Luckily, they had all squeezed into two cars this time—Terrell’s Ford GT and Lee’s Nissan 350Z.
“Keep in touch.” Terrell’s voice crackled through the intercom system. The cars pulled out of the bar and raced down the road. Terrell and Lee scanned the road for Marcus and Jay. They saw them close on Dao’s tail, about seventy meters down the road.
“I’ve nearly got this clown!” yelled Marcus’ rough voice. Suddenly, Dao turned into a dimly-lit garage. A car door slammed. “Dang! He’s got a ride! Hey, dude, get out of the car!” The sound of an engine turning over let the rest of the team know that Marcus had been beaten in the short foot race.
“Lee, pick up Marcus and Jay. I’m going after this nut-case.”
“We don’t know if he’s guilty, man.” Lee’s reply came as Terrell sped down the streets.
“You should know my answer to that question, Lee. Guilty men never run.” As soon as the words came out of his mouth, a dust-covered black Volkswagen Santana shot out of the garage in front of him, narrowly missing his car.
“That idiot almost smashed my ride! We’ve got to get this guy in handcuffs, and quick.” Terrell immediately stepped on the gas and spun around, hot in pursuit of the runaway.
“You pick them up. I’ve got this one,” Lee said confidently over the radio.
Terrell screeched to a halt. “For sure?”
“Yeah, this one’s all mine. Drive back to headquarters and get Jay’s Hummer. It’s pretty close to here. Keep your ears open and your radio on. I’ll find you someplace to ram him. He’ll probably try to escape through the alleyways, so be ready.” The tires squealed and Lee gave chase.
It was obvious that Dao had been in this situation before. He took the most dangerous routes through the winding alleyways, and nailed them perfectly. Lee had a better car, but he realized Dao was slowly pulling away. He needed a straight-away soon, or his prey would be out of his grasp.
On the road ahead, Lee spied a left hairpin turn.
“Oh, yeah.” He gripped the emergency brake. “Now, for some real action.” The whole team knew that Lee was the best driver. As he drew closer to the turn, he saw Dao somehow squeezing out the turn. Now Lee needed to do the same thing.
“Yeah, let’s go!” Lee yanked on the emergency brake. His rear wheels squealed to a stop while the rest of his car kept moving. He pulled the wheel to the left. The car moved as part of him, graceful and reckless, yet under control. He manipulated the car like a piece of clay. Lee nailed the turn, and quickly got back on Dao’s tail.
Lee chuckled, “Kid’s stuff.”
Dao looked into his rearview mirror and saw that Lee still trailed him. He knew he was in trouble.
“Terrell, where are you right now?” Lee asked as he clutched his built-in radio.
“I’ve gotten ahead of you, man. All that winding through those alleys gave me time to pull ahead.”
“You ready to ram smash this punk?” Lee asked over radio.
“You bet I’m ready,” Terrell answered. “I almost feel bad for this dude. I hear him coming up. You better slow down and get ready to rush his car.”
Lee effortlessly completed a one-eighty degree turn and stopped. Dao looked back in confusion. That was the mistake that cost him.
Terrell executed his move perfectly. The front end of the Hummer H3 pulverized Dao’s little Volkswagen. The deafening sound of burning rubber roared throughout the area. Dao’s car spun uncontrollably for a few seconds and then skidded to a stop. The vehicle’s tail had caved in on itself. To make a long story short, the car was totaled. Lee sprung out of his car with his Beretta M9 drawn. Terrell did the same but instead brandished one of his many Desert Eagles.
“You had enough?” Terrell asked impatiently as they pointed their firearms at Dao. He lay motionless in his trashed vehicle. “I may have done too much this time,” Terrell sighed aloud.
“Let’s hope not,” gulped Lee, as they holstered their guns. “Come on, let’s pry this lunatic out of there.”
* * *
“How’s that big, dumb head of yours feel? Not so good, huh?”
Dao awoke to a dark room and an unfriendly audience. All six of the E.I.A.R.P. members were staring coldly back at him. Waking up after hours of darkness with six guys staring back at you isn’t very welcoming. Needless to say, they could be intimidating when they wanted to.
“Who are you?” Dao mumbled nervously.
“The question, my friend, is who are you?” Lee rebutted quickly. “And what do you know about the kidnapped Expo committee?”
“Oh no. You are the kidnappers, aren’t you?” The poor guy was obviously still dazed from the crash. “Please don’t hurt me. I haven’t said a word to anybody, I swear on my life! I don’t care if you keep me under house arrest, I just don’t want to die! I’m only—” Jay cut off his rambling with a quick slap to the head.
“You didn’t answer our question. Now, you seem like you’ve done your fair share of wrongs. But we aren’t concerned about that right now. We aren’t the police. But you also look like a guy who knows what’s up. All we want from you is that you answer a few questions. That’s all.” Lee translated the lengthy speech.
Dao stared at them in a puzzled way. “Wait. You mean, I ran from you and got all banged up for nothing?”
“Yeah, you did. Why?” Lee asked in a humorous manner.
“Well, these past few days have been pretty crazy. When I saw that crash, I got totally paranoid. I’ve been kind of out of it, missing work and staying away from home. When I heard you guys were looking for me, I assumed the worst. For all I know, you could have been the kidnappers, looking to make sure that no one knew. I’m sorry about your car, man. No hard feelings, eh?”
“Yeah, it’s okay,” replied Jay, laughingly. “I’ll get the government to replace it or something. The benefits we get are ridiculous.”
“Okay. Well, to answer your question, I have heard some interesting information about these guys. What do you know?”
“That they’re ex-Army Israelis. They deserted and kidnapped Expo VIP’s for a ransom of ten million dollars,” Lee responded quickly. “But that’s not too important. What we need to know is where they’re hiding, and if the hostages are still alive.”
Dao had the look of a dog that had been kicked one too many times. “I can’t say. I really want to, but if they found out, they wouldn’t rest before I was six feet under. I don’t want to live in fear for the rest of my life.”
Jay slammed the table. “Listen to me, you selfish, paranoid hood. Those people’s lives are at stake. All they’ve done is try to help the world share their discoveries. Now, they’re being beaten, starved, harassed, and maybe murdered. I can tell you’re usually a solo guy, but for once in your life, think about someone beside yourself. Tell us where the hostages are being held. We can help you. You’re obviously not in the best state. From the looks of it, you’re strung out on something, whether it be drugs or alcohol, and it’s something you’re used to. You need to kick that habit out the door. The drugs and the alcohol are tricking you. You won’t have to live in fear! From what we know, there’s about ten of them—not a whole army.”
“Once this is all over, they’ll be locked up for good. So either you’re too boozed up to think straight, or you’re just too scared to do what’s right,” Jay continued to stare daggers at Dao. “Now those people are in trouble. And I am fully prepared to do whatever I need to do to find out where they are. You feeling me?”
Dao finally broke. A crude mixture of sweat and tears ran down his face. “Okay. You’re right. What am I worrying about?” He took a deep breath and then continued. He was definitely flustered. “From what I’ve heard, they’re hiding out at this old warehouse. It hasn’t been used for a couple years now, and all the import companies forgot about it. There’s no guarantee that they’re still there, but that’s the latest news I’ve heard.”
“Thank you, Dao. We appreciate it.” Jay smiled. “I’m glad I didn’t have to pull off your fingernails with my pliers.”
Dao laughed nervously, “One more thing. Could I get these cuffs off?”
* * *
The end of the Expo was drawing nearer. People had enjoyed themselves, but the Expo had been scarred by the kidnapping of important Expo officials. Those poor people still hadn’t been rescued. E.I.A.R.P. was working hard to save these people. They now knew where the hostages were being held. Ali K and his gang of deserters were about to get a big surprise.
The men of E.I.A.R.P. were gathered in their conference room. They had been looking for the kidnappers for weeks, and they now had the men in their grasp.
“Alright guys, listen up. Our plan to get those hostages out is our usual routine. Ali K and his associates have made it apparent that they aren’t open for negotiation, so we’re going to take it right to ‘em. You guys have to remember that this mission is all about stealth. We’ll be using silenced weapons as much as possible. If the kidnappers find that something’s up too early, they’ll most likely start killing hostages. We want to save the hostages and take out the kidnappers. Hopefully, the kidnappers will be the only casualties today.”
“After doing a quick drive beside the abandoned warehouse, Lee and I have come up with a plan to storm the warehouse. From what we could see, there are two ways to enter the warehouse. One is right up the front. The main entrance is a closing metal door, a lot like a remote-controlled garage door. It’s always open. Hernandez, Jay, and Jordan will enter through there. The other three—Lee, Battle, and I—will use a grappling hook to get onto the roof of the warehouse. There’s an old air vent up there. After opening that up, we’ll make your way down into the interior of the building. That will put us three closer to the hostages. A two-pronged attack will be more effective than an all-out bum-rush. Try not to pull a trigger until you hear “weapons free” from me. Once you hear that command and everyone is in position, take out the kidnappers swiftly and silently as possible. Any questions?”
* * *
The stage was set. Terrell and his team sat in a midnight black van as they drew nearer to the warehouse. Each man had his iPod on, getting mentally ready. The whole team knew that the mental preparation was just as important as any weapon check. Staring dauntingly ahead, each man breathed slowly and deeply. Jordan sat silently writing a letter to his girlfriend in LA. After all, this might be his last mission. Lee was at the wheel of the van, lip-syncing the words to “Break Stuff” by Limp Bizkit. Each man had his own way of preparing, but once they reached their destination, that all stopped.
Lee slowly eased the car to a stop about a block away from the warehouse. The men filed out and walked to the trunk of the van. Terrell pulled open the two back doors and revealed a plethora of weaponry. All kinds of grenades lined the doors. The inside walls held each team member’s Kevlar and helmet. On the bed of the van lay each member’s guns.
The entire team carried M4A1 Carbine’s as their primary weapon. The men’s side arms varied, Terrell’s Desert Eagle’s probably being the most exotic. They were all accustomed to getting their gear on, and in a matter of minutes, they were ready. Once everyone had strapped on their vests and gathered their equipment, Terrell called the team together.
“Okay, men. There are God knows how many hostages in there. We’re getting them out. Remember the plan. Once we’ve secured the hostages, Lee and Battle will escort the hostages to safety. I’ll then help eliminate the remaining kidnappers. Good luck.”
* * *
Jordan, Jay and Hernandez crouched below the wall that bordered the warehouse’s property. The warehouse was a dull gray and the once bright blue roof had grown dusty as well.
“You have to hand it to them, they picked a good place,” Hernandez said nervously.
Jordan watched the solitary window for movement. After twenty seconds of anxiousness, he motioned for his team to move forward. The three men responsible for entering the front crouched low and moved quickly towards the door. Lee, Battle, and Terrell rushed to the wall of warehouse. Lee took a few steps back and flung up a grappling hook. It latched onto the edge of the roof. The men then grabbed onto the rope and started pulling themselves up. Down on the ground floor, Jordan, Jay, and Hernandez slowly made their way through the warehouse. The door led them onto an oil-stained dip that trucks had once backed into.
As the stepped out of the dip, they got a full view of the bottom floor. It was crowded with ramps and large shipping containers. They slowly stalked through the bottom floor. Then, they suddenly heard a distinct voice. It sounded like gibberish, but the team knew it was Hebrew. The door of a container lay wide open, and inside it the men could see a small table and two chairs. Two Israeli men sat playing cards, their AK-47’s leaning against the wall.
“Enemies sighted,” whispered Jordan over the intercom. “Two of them.”
“Hold on,” came the reply from Terrell. “We’re not in position yet.” Terrell and the two others had successfully hoisted themselves onto the roof of the building. Lee fiddled with the cover of the air vent and then bashed it in with the butt of his gun.
“Sometimes, brute strength is just the way to go.” Lee chuckled to no one in particular. He placed the bashed up cover on the roof and stepped back. “After you, gentleman.” Terrell went first, barely squeezing into the air vent. Next came Battle and Lee.
Terrell grumbled as he made his way down the tight air vent. He made a silent prayer of thanks when he saw the end of the vent. He reached the mouth of the vent and then stopped.
Jay and Jordan had their weapons trained on the Israelis. Completely oblivious to the danger, the criminals happily kept playing poker.
“We’re in position. Weapons free.” Terrell’s voice came over radio.
A burst of silenced gunfire rang off as soon as the words came out of the Terrell’s mouth. One burst was all they needed. The man with his back to the mouth of the container keeled back out of his chair, dead before he hit the ground. Jay and Jordan had worked the hard angle as best they could, but the other Israeli had a split second to react before being shot. Once he realized his accomplice had been shot, the Israeli lunged for his weapon. Just before reaching his AK, he was riddled with bullets. But he had gotten close enough. His falling momentum carried him to fall onto the gun. A burst of loud AK fire rung through the warehouse.
“Oh, dear,” gulped Jay.
A shriek of Hebrew came from the upper floor.
Terrell, Battle, and Lee were out of the air vent and making their way along the cat-walk-like second floor. On the other side of the wide warehouse, there were three Israelis. They had hopped down to the bottom floor and began firing away at the other three team members. Terrell and his team were about to fire when they were met with a more immediate problem. As they entered the center room, they saw six Israelis crouched and facing the other direction. Without a flinch, they mowed down all six of the men.
Jordan, Jay, and Hernandez weren’t so fortunate. They had gotten themselves in a tight position. Pinned down in the container, they had only one way out. Every time they tried to escape from the container, gunfire peppered the opening.
“We’re pinned down in a shipping container. There are three enemies on the ground floor constantly firing at us. Little help?” Hernandez pleaded.
In a heartbeat, Terrell and his two team members made their way to a good position to fire at the ground level enemies. Once behind the enemies, they opened fire. Two of the Israelis were quickly felled, but one of them found some cover.
“We need to get the hostages. Can you handle this guy?” Terrell’s voice crackled over the radio.
“Yeah, we’ve got this one,” Jordan said as the three E.I.A.R.P. operatives on the ground floor moved steadily forward.
Terrell’s team returned to the central room. As they entered the outer room, they heard movement from the inner room. Still wary of enemies, they were making their way into the inner room when they heard more movement and more Hebrew. It was coming closer. Terrell motioned for his team to get low. Terrell peaked around the corner and quickly swiveled his head back.
“One coming down the hall quick!” Terrell quipped. He moved his team back out of the outer room.
A mad yell echoed through the rooms as a killer came out of the hallway blazing. Lee and Battle fired at him, but Terrell had his back turned. A spray of gun fire whizzed over them, but a few bullets hit Terrell square in the back. He fell forward with a loud groan as the Israeli’s dead body thumped to the floor.
“Terrell!” Battle slowly turned him over. Terrell’s face appeared twisted with pain, but he was alive.
“Thank God for Kevlar. All the same, I’m definitely going to have a gigantic bruise in the morning.” Terrell mumbled. As he stumbled up to his feet, more movement came from the inner room.
They had some good news over the intercom. “Enemy down,” came Jay’s voice. “We’ll be up there soon to search for the hostages.
The team moved in this time, and saw an office setting. This was probably where the warehouse company’s office once was. A few old, dusty cubicles lined the room. The hostages were nowhere in sight. Suddenly, gunfire came from their left. A man wearing a keffiyeh—a traditional Middle Eastern headdress—crouched at the side of a cubicle, firing at them. The team dove behind a cubicle, bullets narrowly missing Lee’s legs.
“Would it be too sudden to guess that was Ali K?” Lee asked.
“No way,” said Battle. “That’s definitely him. Are you sure there are no hostages here?”
“Yeah, why?” inquired Terrell.
Battle’s answer was the click of a fragmentation grenade pin. He gave it a high arching throw and it landed and the left side of the office. A loud bang sounded through the room seconds later.
A cry of agony came from the area of the explosion. No doubt Ali K had been shredded by the grenade. Marcus rose up to investigate.
Too late, Terrell yelled, “Marcus, don’t!” Ali K’s prone body appeared from the dark and he hurled a combat knife Marcus’ way. It made a clean slicing noise as it imbedded itself in Marcus’ calf.
“That sneaky…” Marcus sank behind a cubicle. “I’m alright,” his voice came over the radio. “You guys are going to have to end this though, I can’t move for my life.”
Terrell’s face tightened. Terrell had always had loyalty like a dog, and since Marcus was a close friend, he didn’t take kindly to people messing up his close friend. Terrell tossed aside his M4 and pulled out his Desert Eagles. Shiny and chromed out, Terrell lifted them above his head. He moved to a different row of cubicles and slowly made his way towards Ali K. He peered over a cubicle and saw Ali K limping towards a door.
“These hostages will be dead in five minutes!” yelled Ali K in broken English. Terrell took his chance. Jogging towards Ali K with his guns brandished, he fired five shots. That was all he needed. The .50 caliber Action Express rounds made quick work of Ali K. His body slumped to the floor.
* * *
It was October 31, 2010. Halloween Night. The last day of the Expo. On the stage, for everyone to see, were the E.I.A.R.P. staff. They had successfully rescued all of the hostages. Besides a few bruises and cuts, the hostages had come out unscathed. Marcus was still on crunches from his leg wound, but everyone else was fine.
An important member of the Expo committee, also one of the hostages, came to the stand.
“By the grace of God, I stand here today free from captivity. I can tell you, these last few weeks have been the worst of my life, but thanks to these men, my colleagues and I have to suffer no longer. I can’t fully express our deep gratitude towards the men of E.I.A.R.P. In honor of them, the Shanghai Municipal Government has decided to put up a large mural near the Nan Pu Bridge.”
Resounding applause came from the crowd, and E.I.A.R.P. took their bows. They had done America proud in the past few days.
Later, in the reception after the closing ceremony, the team sat at a table stuffing their faces with cake.
“So, what are we going to do now, man?” Battle asked the team.
“Back to LA for me. Shanghai’s great, but LA is still the only place for me,” smiled Terrell.
“I hear you, man. I haven’t had a good burger in months,” laughed Jay. “We still get the usual week off after a major mission right?”
“I guess you’re entitled to that,” answered Terrell. “But after that, I want to see you all back at headquarters. Anyone who’s late is cleaning and oiling all of our gear!”