Date: Wed, 31 Aug 2011 18:16:11 +0100
From: Micheal Chukwu <michealwitluv@gmail.com>
Subject: The Game Twenty Three

           Down Goes McCall
   "Nighthawk Teams One and Two, we are under attack. I repeat -- we are
under attack at the Mankanra church!"
   "We're on the way, Skydancer. Repeat -- five teams on our way to you!"
Chafing, McCall sat with his team in one of the four D-70B Seahawks on its
way to Makanra, the fastest the Australian Navy had and, thank God, the
equivalent of Falcone's sleek, past Apaches. They hadn't lost sight of
Falcone. The navy pilot pushed the Seahawk to its limits of a hundred and
eighty knots; then engine screamed and every green light on the futuristic
black console had hit its max.
   Not fast enough.
   But the pilot knew what he was doing. The objective was to take Falcone
alive, not engage in an exchange of firepower with their machine guns or
torpedoes. The gunners crouched behind their armaments, ready to go, but
held off. The tactical coordinator beside the captain checked for
deployment from the Apache constantly, ready for evasive action.
   The Apache began descending, and as they followed it down, McCall saw
the tower of a ruined church...and an advantage. "Secure and drop lines!
Prepare to enter by way of bell tower!"
   Nightshift secured a line to the chopper and tossed it to McCall. "How
many?" he yelled.
   "Full team. Nighthawk Team Two, secure the jet. Navy Teams One, Two and
Three, join outer perimeter of the church and take Falcone. NH Team One
rescue subject by way of tower."
   After a quick-fire set of affirmatives, he spoke over the headset to the
captain. "Captain Davies, hover over the bell tower as long as
possible. Gunners to cover us!"
   "Aye, Commander!" Davies bore right to the rickety wooden tower. McCall
prayed fervently that Jake and Danny were okay...
   And then he heard the bell ringing!
   As they reached the bell tower, to the deadly, whining symphony of
constant bullets, McCall slithered down the rope with trained agility, and
his heart almost burst with pride. For, all alone in that unsteady bell
tower, jumping up and down to reach the bell, and whacking it with a
ripped-up piece of flooring, was his little boy. "Help!" he was screaming
between thuds to the brass bell. "Brendan, come back and help us!"
   "Danny-boy!" McCall yelled as he slid the last few feet and swung into
the massive hole on one side. "Danny!"
   "Brendan!" Danny screamed, and threw his skinny, shaking little body at
McCall.
   McCall hugged him close. "Good boy, Danny. You did well -- you did
great! Now get down behind the bell, pal -- there are bad men firing
bullets. I'm going down to get your mom and Morgan and we are all going for
a ride in a helicopter, okay?"
   "Okay." Danny, still shaking with the valiant effort not to cry, dropped
to the floor.
   When the final man dropped into the bell tower and hit the ground
running downstairs to support Skydancer, McCall shouted. "Rig a harness to
a second line, Heidi."
   "Yes, sir!"
   "I'll be sending Danny up on it. Stay there to take care of him when he
reaches the chopper."
   "Yes sir." Heidi's voice soured a little.
   McCall didn't have time to care about Heidi's nonexistent maternal
instincts. He raced down the stairs, leaping three at a time when they were
uncertain or rotting. "Jake!" he roared.
   "Brendan!" Jake screamed from the direction of the nave and McCall
bolted there. Jake stood in the shadows of a shattered stained glass
window. On either window beside him, Wildman and Braveheart were shooting
lines in the dirt, creating dust clouds so thick it choked the kids outside
and they couldn't see to shoot straight.
   McCall hauled Jake so close Jake felt like an extension of him, part of
his skin. "I'm sorry, so sorry to put you through this. We should have
known, should have seen the setup!"
   "It's my fault. He's after me." Jake said fiercely, and dragged McCall's
mouth down to his for a fast, hard kiss.
    "Now let's get to Danny, and you out of here!" McCall said, Jake
nodded. "Braveheart, Wildman, go ahead into the chopper. Remaining
Nighthawks, block all exits and prepare to evacuate!"
   They split into two groups -- one man covered them as the others
blocked the exits. Within a minute, all eight men would be in the bell
tower.
   McCall led Jake up the stairs as quickly as safety allowed.
   Confused shouting reigned outside as dust clouds from more chopper
blades sent dirt into unprotected eyes, throats and lungs. With deadly
intent, Falcone's Apaches closed in on the outer ring of Nighthawks/SAS
fighters, but the navy teams had landed, and men poured out to reinforce
the rescue efforts.
   The ragtag army of teenagers screamed and started to run.
   And the second Nighthawk chopper remained hovering on the other side of
the bell tower, covering the rescue operation in the church, facing off
against Falcone's hovering Apache. Firepower against firepower, a bare
three hundred feet apart: mutually assured destruction. It would just take
one button.
   But the Nighthawks inside never faltered. If that was what it took to
stop Falcone's men moving in with relentless purpose on their mission
subject, so be it. If they could take Falcone alive, kudos for them -- if
not, they would get Jake and Danny away safely, whatever the cost.
   In the tower, the wind blasted around McCall and Jake as they tried to
get Danny, squirming and crying into the harness. "No! I can't! Daddy, I'll
fall down and the bad men will get me!"
   "No, buddy, it's rigged up to make you safe." Jake soothed
frantically. "Come on, sweetie."
   "No! No! The bad men will get me! I want Brendan! I want to go with
him."
   "Danny, buddy..."
   "Stop cuddling him, Jake! No one's going to shoot him when Falcone wants
him safe!" McCall picked up Danny's wriggling body and dumped him in the
triple-locking harness, strapping him up safely. "Danny-boy, you can't fall
out of this, and the only way someone will get you is if you don't go now!
If you want Daddy and Me up there with you, stop fighting us. Now make me
proud of you, son, stop crying and go!"
   Danny stopped crying with a savage hiccup and stared at McCall for a
long moment. Then he nodded. "Y-yes."
   "Good boy. Go!" he screamed into his two-way. Braveheart and Wildman
who'd swarmed up into the chopper ready to lift Danny, hiked him up and
into the chopper while the gunners kept the Apache in their sights. Jake
watched in open terror.
   Not a single shot fired while Danny was in the harness; but as soon as
he was inside safely, the Apache started moving in.
   "Team One! Remain on ground and make your way to the other choppers or
jet. Rendezvous on board the Hardwicke for debriefing ASAP."
   "Affirmative, sir."
   As soon as the harness fell again, McCall started shoving Jake into it,
to the violent whirring wind of two choppers' rotors too close
together. "Send a line for me, stat!"
   A line fell. He wrapped it around his waist, then looped his midsection
around one wrist. "Let's go." He yelled into the two-way. "Take Jake up,
stat. I'll haul myself, and cover him."
   "Yes, sir!"
   "No!" Jake screamed as his line yanked up, and McCall lifted himself on
his line at the same time, forming a human shield for him. "No,
Brendan. I'll go alone!"
   "Don't go against the Team Commander's orders in an op." McCall yelled
back. "This suit is double-lined. I'm SEAL trained, Jake. I can protect
myself." And God forgive me for lying to you. "Now go!"
   Jake rose another foot, his lip bitten down hard, his eyes filled with
fear and love as McCall matched him, motion for motion. McCall smiled at
him. Jake's hand reached out to him then fell. He looked so
helpless. "Don't die. Amado." Jake mouthed. "Please don't die."
   McCall smiled again, but didn't answer and the terror in Jake's eyes
grew, knowing as well as he did that McCall was unable to lie in the last
words he might speak to him. "I always love you, Jake. I always will."
   Jake's eyes closed and tears dripped down, splashing over him as his
body jerked and swayed with the movement of the lifting harness and kept
perfect pace, jump and hold.
   They made it out of the bell tower, out of possible danger from broken
tiles and splintered wood. Jake harnessed helplessly, McCall using all the
strength he had to lift himself up, hand over hand, with palms and finger
he'd roughed with dirt from the floor to gain better grip. Even with his
arms aching from the recent stitches, he kept pace with Jake. He gave Jake
a cheeky wink. "Halfway up and all's well..." Another hand, another...
   Thwack.
   McCall jerked on the rope as the pain smacked into his side through the
thick, padded wet suit he still wore. He'd known all along. Of course,
Falcone would bring a sniper with him to take out Jake's bodyguards. He'd
take Jake someplace where some of his cronies would see him kill Jake
slowly. He couldn't let that happen. He had to keep climbing... if only he
could breathe.
   "Oh, my God!" Jake cried, as Brendan's body snapped backward and he
roared in agony but kept climbing, kept Jake covered with his
body. "Brendan! Brendan's been hit!"
   Thwack.
   Another hit. Jake couldn't see where but he could see McCall's hands,
slipping just a fraction and he fell a foot, two, oh God, they were killing
him.
   "Take me down!" Jake screamed, making frantic hand movements in case
those in the chopper couldn't hear him.
   An inch down, two... and Jake twisted his totally-harnessed body around,
reached down to McCall. "Brendan!"
   Slowly, McCall's face lifted. It was ashen-white. "Go." Jake couldn't
hear the word, only read his lips. "Too close. They'll hit you." McCall's
hand, above the left, gripped another foot higher on the rope.
   McCall was still climbing in an effort to cover Jake, save him.
   "No! Damn it, McCall, no!" Jake threw his entire body into the reach and
got a hold of McCall's right wrist, still with the rope wrapped around
it. "Damn you, help me." He screamed.
   Again, he said something Jake couldn't hear, but three he could read
clearly. Falcone catch you.
  Jake strained with his free hand, panicking as his left, gripping
McCall's right, began to slip. "I don't care! I won't live without you,
McCall. Now give me your hand!"
   McCall gazed at him one last time, his tortured eyes searching Jake's
face. Then, with agonizing slowness, as if his body fought his will,
McCall's left hand came up and gripped Jake's right.
   The chopper took off, racing for the sea and the safety of the waiting
ship. Even in his agony, Brendan swung his body right and left, making them
both a moving target as the bullets kept flying around the fight going on
below them and at them.
   Thwack.
   Jake felt another small, sickening thud, and the horrifying jerk of
McCall's beloved body. Three shots... and he was losing strength to gold
on...
   Jake had never blessed his tough potter's hands more than now. His rough
skin gave grip that nicely moisturized model's hands never would. But how
he wished he'd wrapped the rope around his own wrists first for
strength. He was losing more every moment.
   Thank God, they were out of range of the bullets, it seemed.
   Hang on, Brendan, meu amado! Hand on! Fight!
   Falcone's Apache was chasing them!
   Thank God, it was held up by returning fire to the Navy chopper behind
it, but it was coming after him, after Danny. Was Falcone that insane that
obsessed with his so-called honor, with killing him and taking Danny that
he'd chase them all the way to a navy fighter ship?
   Jake couldn't look up, or cry out, or think. All his strength was
focused on holding Brendan, or trying to ignore the agonizing burn of pain
in his wrists and shoulders, elbows and every muscle in his upper body,
stopping that sickening fall to earth...
   He fought it was all the desperation he had, but Brendan could no longer
help -- he was unconscious and a dead weight, too heavy for him to
hold. Another twenty seconds and his left wrist snapped, his right shoulder
popped -- and McCall fell from his useless hands. "No! No!" Jake screamed
in despair. "Brendan! Brendan!"
   McCall fell only twenty feet, jerking with a snap against the rope tied
against his waist -- the snap of a fraying rope...
   "Get him! Get him inside!" Jake screeched. The chopper swayed and rocked
as it dashed frantically forward, toward the ship. And inch by agonizing
inch, McCall was lifted up, up...
   The Apache was gaining on them, less than half a mile behind.
  Four feet to the chopper, and safety -- three...
   Snap.
   McCall's body hurtled past Jake's helpless, useless arms and Jake
couldn't do a thing to save him. "Brendan!"
   Three. Two. One... Splash. Jake's eyes snapped open. The helicopter had
reached the ocean before they fell. They were actually past the beach, the
bay and were in open seas. Protected by that double-thick, strong wet suit,
maybe McCall could have survived the fall, but Jake was trapped inside this
damn stupid harness with two busted arms...
   Another body hurtled past Jake -- a big, male body attached to two
lines. He dived like an Olympian, straight and graceful and fast, over
sixty feet down into the ocean.
   The chopper dropped altitude until it was only about twenty feet above
ocean level. And slowly, slowly Jake felt his felt his harness jerk and
lift, until at last he'd make it inside the chopper.
   As the big bearlike Nighthawk pulled him in, and Danny not understanding
the gravity of the situation, had swarmed on him before he was fully
standing, Heidi dropped a rescue stretcher-harness attached to six lines
leading into two, right and left.
   With a neat splash, the diver entered the ocean about eight feet from
where Brendan floated face down in the water. In seconds the diver flipped
the body over and onto the stretcher harness and hooked both himself and
Brendan securely onto it. He signaled up to the chopper, and began CPR as
they lifted up, up...
   A strange honk, honk noise came from the chopper, like something from a
Hollywood thriller, but Jake barely registered. His world had shrunk to two
people, and for once, one wasn't his son, cuddled safely on his lap. The
two men on the stretcher held all his attention -- Brendan and the tall,
bronzed man with the dark hair... Wildman -- who was struggling to keep
Brendan alive.
   The honk, honk sounds were piercing; he heard the captain yelling but it
all seemed far off, surreal. Jake only noticed the Apache swinging away in
his peripheral vision, noting it with the same sense of distance that he'd
accept a news item on TV.
   Then four choppers seemed to burst into existence all around them, rotor
blades filling the air with sound and furious whirring. The navy choppers
from the warship passed their chopper. The cavalry had finally arrived, and
were chasing off Falcone's Apache. It was over. Falcone could escape.
   Then Braveheart, Heidi and the gunners brought Brendan and Wildman into
the chopper. "He's alive but losing blood beneath the suit." Wildman
reported. "Captain apprise Team Commander Two of the situation and tell him
to set up the O.R. with the ship's surgeon. And get to the ship, stat!"
   "Aye, sir. ETA four minutes."
   The race for the life of the man Jake loved had just begun.