Special Ops

Chapter 1 – Apocalypse Day“As George Orwell pointed out, people sleep peacefully in their beds at night, only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.” Richard Grenier, The Washington Times, 1993. “How much longer before we move out, Sarg?” asked Lieutenant Norton picking at the scab on his face. His platoon of the Perth Revelationist Church's Hades Battalion, the 'Flaming Damnation', was waiting inside the house and garage for the command to engage their enemy. The platoon had been waiting all afternoon and it was now almost midnight. They were given the honour of taking out the joint US and Australian spy base at Kollarena, which was only a few blocks away. “Soon, Lieutenant. We've got…” Sergeant Bobbi Francis looked at her wristwatch, it was almost midnight, the time appointed to unleash the Apocalypse of the Book of Revelations. The spy base was no doubt already under siege by their comrades. These were the 'sleepers', saboteurs planted within the intelligence community by the Revelationist Church years ago. It was now just a matter of walking through the opened doors and exterminating the survivors - if there were any left. Lieutenant Norton's counterpart was waiting in another house a little closer to the base. Bobbi didn't have time to say more. There was an alarmed shout from their communications specialist monitoring the video display of Australian Federal Police Sergeant Darren McIntosh's house next door. The specialist calmed himself, then called softly to his lieutenant. “Lieutenant Norton, there's police pulling up outside McIntosh's house. It's their Tactical Response Force… and AFP. We've got big problems!” he said finishing with what sounded like a chicken's 'squawk' as his voice rose in pitch. Everyone in the garage crammed to stare at the video monitor. They watched as four police vehicles and a Tactical Response Group armoured command vehicle, a Bearcat, discharged eighteen armed Western Australian and Australian Federal Police. They could clearly see their enemy's weapons were drawn. The terrorists watched open-mouthed as the police Tactical Response team raced to the front and back doors of their informer's home. “s**t!” grunted the now panicked lieutenant, “Sergeant Francis, get everyone moving, we have to squash this immediately. If we can't rescue our three men we will need to kill them.” He paused to squeeze both hands against his greying, sweaty temples, “and that means killing Colonel McIntosh and Captain Landan. They're not to be left for the police to interrogate no matter what.” Turning to his comms specialist, Lieutenant Norton spoke softly, just above the noise of the soldiers preparing their weapons. “Get on to Captain Lim, tell him what's happening. Tell him that we're going in and that I suggest he go straight to the base without us - immediately. We'll follow when we've dealt with the police.” Corporal Maitland downed the dregs at the bottom of his beer can, gathered his squad and raced to the fence separating the two houses. He kicked down the frail, wooden palings allowing his squad through. Sergeant Francis was already racing towards the front of the house firing at the small crowd of AFP and WAPOL waiting in the driveway and front yard. “How many times do I have to tell you? I want them back home with me. I can't stand being alone like this,” pleaded AFP Sergeant Darren McIntosh. He was the head intelligence analyst at the joint US and Australian spy the base, Australian Defense Satellite Communications Station, Kollarena. It was located twenty kilometres north of the city of Geraldton, on the Western Australian coast. Thirty-three-year-old Sergeant McIntosh was a spy, conveying top-secret military information to the Revelationist Church. His older brother, Colonel Harry McIntosh, military commander of the Perth Revelationist Hades Battalion, was sitting opposite at the kitchen table. Harry's battalion slogan was 'Flaming Damnation', and tonight, at midnight, they were going to unleash just that, flames and damnation, on all who stood in their way. Apocalypse Day was only minutes away. “Darren, the girls are safe, so is Debbie. You know our mother wouldn't let any harm come to them?” smiled Colonel McIntosh but it was a little too smooth and this wasn't lost on his younger brother. “Our mother is f*****g crazy, you know that Harry, she's mad. I can't stand the thought of her even being near my kids. Don't you remember what she did to us? A mother is supposed to care for her children, she couldn't even do that. She hired out her own sons for drugs, for her pleasure. How the hell can anyone trust her to look after anyone's children?” Darren was distraught and exhausted after a whole evening of debriefing with his brother and the battalion's intelligence officer, Captain Landan. Harry's face creased as though in pain. “I know how you feel, Darren. Don't think I can't remember what she did to us. But she's changed, the church changed her. You know that. She's a true believer now, she wouldn't let that sort of thing happen to her own grandchildren, ever.” “The church changed her?” Darren's voice rose in volume to a yell, “that's bullshit! She changed the damn church to suit herself. No-one's game to stand against her, she gets whatever she wants. She's a church Priest, they're Gestapo, and I don't trust her with my family.” The fine-boned, dark-haired man sobbed softly as he lowered his face into his hands. Nearing his fortieth year, Colonel McIntosh looked completely different to his younger half-brother. Where Darren was slim and youthful, Harry was thick-set and ruddy, his face held none of his brother's fine features. “Darren, after tonight we'll need you,” Captain Landan paused and corrected himself, “the church needs you, to continue monitoring Pine Gap communications. We'll still need to monitor the various spy satellites around the world. Do you really think your mother would allow that to be compromised? She loves your girls and she loves the church. With the coming of the blessed Apocalypse you'll have your family back, we promise it.” Again both Revelationists glanced across the broken man to stare at each other. Neither smiled. Captain Landan looked at his watch, it was almost time to collect their platoons and initiate the Apocalypse of the Book of Revelations. The silence was broken by the sound of splintered glass and timber. Into the kitchen crashed five armed and uniformed Tactical Response Group members. Before the terrorists could reach for a weapon they were flexi-cuffed and shoved towards the open door. “That Sergeant Dyson's a bit of a jerk, isn't he, eh?” muttered Constable Ray Bidder, Australian Federal Police. His voice always went up at the end of a sentence to make it sound like a question. “And that senior constable who drives their command vehicle, that Bearcat, she's a honey isn't she, eh?” Ray drew deeply on his cigarette as he continued to stare at the Bearcat driver, Senior Constable Nancy Haurenier. She didn't stare back, she was busy on the mic talking to her team inside the house. The ten AFP, Australian Federal Police, and WAPOL, Western Australian Police, were armed and in body armour, as expected in an arrest of this nature. They stood outside the house waiting for the tactical team to complete the arrest. “Ray,” called the weather-beaten AFP Senior Sergeant, Frenchy, pulling his cigarette packet from his top pocket. In his heavily accented English, Frenchy snapped, “Ray, get your eyes off Nancy's bits and pieces and stay focused. The Revelationists are out in numbers this weekend. Headquarters said there are at least five thousand in Geraldton for their crusader rally. WAPOL have already confiscated weapons from some of the congregation. I've got a bad feeling about this weekend.” Frenchy lit his cigarette and held the packet out to his AFP off-sider, 'Oddie', Sergeant Ogden Danse. The tall, solidly built ex-commando absently took one, leaning forward to light it from Frenchy's now glowing cigarette. He looked around the front yard and down the street suspiciously. All seemed quiet and normal for that time of night. The Australian Federal Police were deployed at the intelligence base just around the corner. They had been planning this arrest for months. All police and tactical staff knew to keep their mouth's shut if the media turned up. Any news associated with federal intelligence facilities can easily turn into a fireball in moments. All it takes is for one nosy neighbour to call the Perth TV channels and they'd be buzzed by a dozen helicopters before they'd had time to cuff their prisoners. From inside the house came sounds of a scuffle, yelled orders, then silence. Senior Sergeant WAPOL, Brad Hopkins, nervously fingered the grip of his Glock 18. “I don't like this,” he said to no-one in particular, “it's too easy. Five thousand Revelationists and one undefended spy, all by his lonesome. Nah, somethings not right.” It had been a busy day for the WAPOL team. Earlier that morning Senior Constable Bill Franklin and Constable Danielle Ahmet, attended the violent triple homicide of a mother and her twin, ten-year old daughters, outside Geraldton. The two then had to double up for tonight's warrant and arrest. Brad understood that they were both no doubt exhausted and possibly still distraught from what they had witnessed that morning. At that moment he caught sight of his favourite tactical police officer, Senior Constable Kerrie Black. She stood in the doorway, waving to him. He walked over, still fingering the grip of his pistol. “What?” he asked softly, too edgy to say more, something was wrong, he knew it. “Get your teams to tighten up the perimeter, we've got extras. It looks like we have the heads of the Perth Hades Battalion here too, Colonel McIntosh and Captain Landan. We've got them – shaft, sack and balls. We've scooped the pool, Brad.” Kerrie was relaxed and smiling, her face briefly glowed with a youth she had left behind to focus on her career with the police. She liked Brad, he was a professional, like her and the tactical team she now worked with. Brad nodded but he shivered inside. That was just b****y perfect, more terrorists to handle - he turned to his team. “Everyone, on me!” his call was soft but firm. “We've got three suspects, two Revelationist accessories not on our warrant. They're the head of the Hades Battalion, Flaming Damnation. Well, we're flamin' damned if we'll let this opportunity slip out of our hands.” He let his breath out slowly. “We'll give tactical a few minutes to complete the arrests while we set up the crime scene tapes and then start collecting evidence. Just be on your toes while you do it, anything could go wrong.” Each member of the AFP and WAPOL quickly set about their usual procedure of preparing a crime scene and securing it. It was about then that the firing started and the police warrant and arrest went pear-shaped - just as Frenchy and Brad feared. Senior Sergeant Wayne Dyson was an ex-infantry captain in the regular army. He had left the military to join the WA Tactical Response Group so that he could spend more time with his family. He was thinking of them as bullets cracked and whined through the pine-board cottage. Everyone dived to the floor as soon as the firing started. A bullet hit the Revelationist captain and blood spurted through a hole in his neck. He gave a series of gurgled, wet coughs as he choked on his own blood. Constable 'Twitch' Frampton twisted sideways as he was hit by a burst of automatic gunfire. Some of the impact was absorbed by his body protection but several bullets found their way below his armour, cutting the artery in his groin. He spun and fell to the floor screaming. Two more officers went down with serious leg and abdominal wounds. Dyson knew they were now in big trouble. This wasn't simply 'bad guys' firing handguns this was a full-on military-style assault. Then he heard the incoming fire directed at his AFP and WAPOL team waiting outside, the volume of fire was incredible. 'What the hell did we just walk into?' he thought as he lay on the floor hoping the incoming fuselage of bullets stayed high.