Chevy's clever idea had the desired effect; the sun-bright lamps of the mobile lighting rig were dazzling to the point of blindness for those caught in their beams. The would-be defenders shots were thrown wild, or they stopped firing altogether, blocking their eyes with an arm or hand and their positions illuminated perfectly for Fuka's team to take their shots and put them down for good.
Inside the building, Scott called out a firm and loud 'clear!' to Yuna as nothing else moved in his room. He swapped out the mag in his MP5, moving back to the hallway. No further shots sounded, and no more signs or sounds of movement from the buildings' interior. He clicked on his radio and spoke up to the others.
"Heartbreak to all units. I think we got all the hostiles inside the building. Sweep and clear to check. Peacenik; what's the status outside, over?"
Outside, in the same instant as the last shots were being fired, one last holdout reared up over the roof parapet. A thin, lanky tech with lank, ragged hair and a look of cold indifference in his eyes, he raised an Agram 2000 sub-machinegun and aimed through watering squinting eyes at the first target firing back he saw, squeezing off a burst in the same instant they fired back.
Even as he was punched backward and collapsed like a puppet with cut strings, the rounds slammed into Mykhailo's body, and threw the young pilot to the ground; wounded heavily, but not dead.
-*-*-*-
The squadron's Panther helicopter had airlifted Mykhailo to the same hospital where Kat still resided. The combat medics with Shattered Steel's own security contingent had stabilised him for that, but more advanced surgery and care was needed than the facilities on hand could provide.
With the gun battle over, and the infiltrators all accounted for, Scott had gathered the rest of the squadron in the base's mess hall along with Colonel Abela from the Maltese forces, Captain Hoffman from the Shattered Steel security forces, and of course Wolf, head of their own maintenance team. Every one of them looked dog-tired, and he felt the same way. The day's events had been wearing for all of them; an active aerial combat sortie with numerous incidents, and then a live gun battle on the ground against hostile elements who'd worked their way inside. And they hadn't even had time to mourn their loss yet. It was past midnight, and he could feel his fatigue taking over as the adrenaline of combat slipped away. His MP5 still lay on the table next to where he sat, having come straight from the maintenance building and rushed to and fro other places before winding up here in desperate need of something to wet his throat and fill his belly, which is why he drank heavy gulps from a bottle of coke inbetween bites from a ham and cheese sandwich that disappeared quickly.
"All right. First off; Brightspark is in stable condition. He's in surgery now, but everything looks like he'll pull through. Medic said that the rounds missed his vital organs, though nicked a few major blood vessels and did some nasty damage. He'll be off the roster for a while while he heals up.
"Secondly. What we've managed to put together". He sighed out before taking another long sip of his drink and pausing as he organised his thoughts.
"There are two surviving hostiles; they have been transferred to a secure wing of the hospital for their wounds to be treated. When they are well enough, they will be interrogated. Colonel Abela and Captain Hoffman's people are examining the personal effects of the... I don't know;
renegades, now. They have, however; already found several cell phones - more than their personal ones, I mean. Their personal bags, as well as other items such as clothing, books, and other effects have been found to have secret compartments or additional interior pockets, concealing sums of local currency, fake ID's and short-range transmitters".
He pursed his lips, a tight, line forming on his face.
"Just before I called you all here, Wolf and a handful of our maintenance people along with some of Abela's people found and removed devices from the bases' radar, POL stores and electrical substations".
Hoffman chimed in to continue, his gruff English accent a stark difference to Scott's voice.
"It remains to be confirmed; but it seems as though these infiltrators were attempting to cripple our forces and Luqa itself. The devastation and chaos caused by their sabotage would have been the perfect cover for the forces that Captain Bouchard and Leftenant Nakano observed and disabled that seemed to be intended for an amphibious assault. Our ground forces here would not be able to hold back an organised attack at all, we have no heavy equipment and very few heavy weapons".
"Although, why they wish to capture or at least invade Malta at all is a mystery to us still," Abela continued. "We are in the process of rebuilding ourselves, and have little in the way of natural resources. I am at a loss as to why we have become a target for these people".
"Whatever the reason," Scott said, taking over once more. "We've put an end to the internal problem, and got a cap on it. Circus and Stingray are going back to The Forge on the first transport arriving tomorrow. Kitten will be rejoining us tomorrow as well. Everyone, get some sleep. Tomorrow will bring us new things, and I've no doubt we're not done with this yet. Dismissed".
-*-*-*-
Luqa International Airport
Malta
The Next Morning
10:00 hoursScott sipped a coffee as he stood in what had turned into the operations room for the squadrons' deployment to Luqa. They'd been given use of the Maltese Defence Forces' base and its' own control room, and that was where Scott now stood, clad in the pants of his working uniform and a grey T-shirt, one hand on his hip as he studied the maps projected on the screens built into the table. He'd received orders for their next sortie, and it was in the planning stages. He'd welcome input from the others, and was expecting them all to find their way here in due time - though, he had in particular sent word to Chevy to meet him there and aid in the mission planning. After all, he had given her the spot of 2IC, and intended to make full use of her talents and experience. The information she and Fuka had recorded on their sortie the previous day formed part of the information now presented, along with additional satellite images showing the Libyan coastline and several important bases and areas there.
He set the mug down, and leant on the edge of the table, running a hand through his hair as he studied the information and started to put strategies and plans together, building up their next moves.
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