Morosely, the head of security stared out of the window to watch even more airborne forces abseil from helicopters onto the roof and help throw large sheets of roof covering over the edge. Never thought of an airborne assault, he contemplated as soldiers abseiled down through the resultant gaping holes. At this rate, they’re going to stop the charges being set! The ground-level guarding and protection will hold the ground troops, but I suspect they are merely a distraction! Clever bastards!
As he watched, armoured vehicles raced through the central square between the buildings and up to the main doors. Soldiers emerged from the rear of each vehicle, protected from the defending fire. How do they expect to do anything like this, the man thought smugly, pleased that at least some of his planning was going to work. Suddenly, his eyes opened wide, all pain forgotten. The Romanian Special Forces weren’t returning fire! Instead, a large number of soldiers shouldered large, powerful rocket launchers!
“Shi…it!” he exclaimed under his breath. “These guys are totally serious and knew what to expect!”
Moments later rockets whooshed off towards the entrance, flame sprouting from the rear ends. The resultant enormous explosions obliterated the glass of all surrounding windows.
Covered in shards of glass, the head of security peered out from the window to survey the results. “Shi…it!” he exclaimed once more as he watched dozens of soldiers storm through massive gaping holes where the entrance had been. He knew what the soldiers would find – dozens of bodies strewn amongst the rubble of the destroyed walls.
The special forces advanced carefully, wary of a potential second line of defence. Powerful torch beams cut through the dark night air and swirling dust, seeking survivors, where they should go next and killing any remaining resistance.
* * *
Surprised faces looked upwards from the production floor and the various gantries as sections of the roof were ripped off, the noise filling the cavernous production area, allowing the rain to come pouring in. Except for two, the chosen few who had received Arroz’s message just moments before realised with horror that their plans would be personally perilous to implement. Panicked, each quickly tried to lose the phones on which Arroz’s message had been received. They then mingled with everyone else in the hope that they would be rounded-up with the others, mostly innocent immigrants, and would be released at a later date. Panicked, people dashed about in every direction, confused as to what they should be doing.
All, however, were filmed by a couple of the soldiers on the roof with high-definition cameras, intent to identify everyone and record all that occurred. As expected from the mode and noise of entry, everyone had looked up, resulting in their faces being captured on film. The cameramen saw the secretion of the phones and barked orders over the radio to their abseiling colleagues to investigate; had bombs been planted, or vital evidence hidden?
While all others mingled around in confusion, the two dashed towards the rear of the facility, marking themselves out as clear targets. As the first soldiers hit the ground, the explosion to destroy the entrance rocked the building, causing even greater panic. More orders were issued over the helmet headphones as a critical mass of soldiers congregated at the bottom of their ropes in the immense hall. The soldiers immediately separated into groups. Four pairs set-off looking for whatever it was that had been hidden. Two teams chased after the two who had loyally followed Arroz’s instructions. The remaining soldiers started to round-up the confused and scared workers.
It didn’t take long to recover the hidden phones and the soldiers returned to find their owners. Fingerprints were required to access the smart phones, so the owners were needed. Realising that they were in trouble, one owner withdrew his handgun, shot a soldier and took the nearest person to him as a hostage. The other three immediately followed that man’s lead as everyone else started screaming, scattering in all directions.
Soldiers quickly encircled the four assailants, assault rifles raised and levelled.
“Give us free passage out of here and we will let the hostages go, we won’t shoot anyone else, and won’t set off a chemical explosion!” one yelled, holding his gun against his hostage’s head.
* * *
As the smoke and dust gradually dissipated, the ground troops picked their route through the rubble. Equal numbers of troops worked their way into the three buildings the attack had focused on. By the time those entering the the production facility entered the main hall, the airborne team had already encircled the hostage takers.
The other two buildings provided very contrasting environments. Stepping over the bodies of dead defenders the soldiers came under heavy fire where the vehicles were parked, many of which were heavily laden, ready to set off with their toxic payload. The protective fire from within the residential block that also housed the security office, was a lot lighter – predominantly because the force that had approached from the fields had already engaged that building’s defenders.
Caught between two large teams of special forces and being cut down with ease, the defenders in the residential block soon surrendered. None had seen or heard from Arroz or the head of security, so why fight on if their leaders weren’t around?
The defence for the parking and loading area rapidly fell back from the now destroyed entrance to continue fighting from behind the loading bay. Wary of the heavily laden vehicles, the soldiers sought cover elsewhere. However, the vans and small lorries were soon being punctured by hundreds of bullets. The defence had the benefit of height, shooting down from the back and sides of the loading docks where there were thick walls with small windows. It was a bleak space, but under the bright flood lights the soldiers had no opportunity to avoid detection as they moved from place to place, trying to gain ground.
“Lieutenant, we need the rockets. They’ve got us pinned down!” the team leader called.
“I’m not comfortable with that, soldier. Chemicals could be stored within the blast zone. Keep pressing ahead – no grenades, use smoke screen instead.”
Orders given, the special forces team had to prove they could live up to their purpose. While some soldiers provided covering fire, others crawled underneath the vans and lorries to make their way, unseen, to the edge of the raised loading bay, where they crouched out of sight.
A few hand signals later, two soldiers lobbed smoke canisters onto the loading dock and waited a few moments. A hail of bullets immediately whined through the air as the defenders expected an attack and increased their rate of fire, spraying bullets wildly in all directions.
“Masks on!” yelled a soldier as the doors of two heavily laden vans blew off when the pressurised canisters inside were ruptured by the defending fire.
“Damn!” General Muntean cursed. “Get the spray fans engaged – now!” he barked, hoping that his soldiers would complete their attack quickly. The plan was that powerful fans mounted on mobile units would send a special spray to mix with the chemicals and weigh air-borne particles down, preventing a spread to the nearby residential areas. The downside of that action was that his forces’ smoke screen would also be dissipated, making them vulnerable, but the risk of these chemicals to the wider population was too great!
The dozen soldiers beside the loading dock acted quickly upon hearing the General’s orders. They quickly rolled over the edge and crawled along the floor to the wall. Standing up, backs to the wall, they prepared for battle, grateful that their colleagues had stopped shooting and were on their way to join them.
More hand signals preceded the special forces shouldering their assault rifles and, one soldier standing on each side of the small windows, swung round and levelled their weapons through the openings.
Screams of surprise from those inside heralded panic and the desertion of their posts. As the men ran, they made easy targets for the soldiers who had no hesitation to kill many of the fleeing terrorists.
“They’re falling back! No signs of chemicals inside. Permission to blow the doors?” the team leader requested.
“Granted!” Lieutenant Farcas responded. “Obvious leaders are to be taken alive, if possible. Otherwise, act as safest.”
Moments later an explosion destroyed the metal roller-shutter doors, leaving them hanging limply from the frame. Soldiers streamed through the opening, weapons sweeping the space for hostiles. Following the direction in which the defenders had fled, the soldiers started to hunt them down, marching rapidly down corridors, kicking down doors to side rooms and responding to all resistance with extreme force. Sporadic fire continued for nearly ten minutes before the team leader reported, “The building is clear.”
“Well done,” Lieutenant Farcas replied. “What’s the status of the chemicals?”
“Forty-one barrels in the stores. All undamaged,” came one answer. “Two vans wrecked from contents exploding. No fire. Seven others damaged with six barrels leaking.”
“Get the decontamination teams in fast!” Lieutenant Farcas ordered.
Another convoy of army vehicles swept into the now quiet building and dozens of people emerged, clothed in white protective suits, busying themselves spraying the affected areas and seeking to plug the leaks.
* * *
Seconds ticked by in the tense stand-off between the soldiers and hostage takers while Lieutenant Farcas spoke to General Muntean. Cezar continued his whispered translation of events for Laura, Rob and Nat so they could follow what was happening, the blur of activity that had started in the other two buildings being reported simultaneously alongside events in the main production hall.
“Sir, we have a situation here. Four assailants, each with a hostage. Sidearms held against the hostages’ heads. They want free passage.”
“What’s your assessment of the situation, Lieutenant? I don’t want loose ends for the police to follow-up!”
“They’re nervous. They’re ringleaders. I think our men could take them with a possibility of the hostages surviving.”
“A ‘possibility’ is not a good enough assessment, Lieutenant!”
