John Ringo: A Deeper Blue

“Getting ready to shoot down an airplane,” Mike said without turning around. “I’m with SOCOM. Now I’d suggest getting under shelter, sir.”

The man paused and looked over his shoulder.

“Dafney! Where are the kids?”

“Allison’s here,” the woman yelled back. “Jason and Lindsey are up at the Haunted Mansion, I think.”

“Get under cover,” the man said, picking up the overlarge box of ammo and drawing out the linked 7.62 rounds. “I used to be a gunner in the National Guard.”

“You got ammo bearer,” Mike said, pulling the linked ammo over and slapping it into place. He dropped the feed tray down and cocked the weapon. “Greznya, where is this thing?”

“Just west of the employee parking lot,” Greznya said. “It should enter the park just west of Haunted Mansion.”

More people were watching what was going on, and shouting, as Mike lifted the machine gun to his shoulder. The crowd surged back, obviously fearing he was going to open fire on them , but then paused as it was apparent he was pointed at the sky. He could hear the plane now, a slow drone and low.

“Anybody else got this?” Mike asked.

“Oleg,” Oleg called. “I’m… Fuck, Kildar, I don’t know where I am. East of that big castle thing.”

“Nikolai. I am in Cinderella’s Castle. I have partial eyeballs on the target. I do not have enough to engage.”

“Kildar, Kildar, Dragon. I am crossing Bay Lake at this time, heading for Main Street. I have eyeballs on the bird but will not arrive before it enters the park.”

“Keep an eye out for secondaries,” Mike said, pointing the weapon over the trees to the west. “I think this one’s all mine.”

Farzad had seen the Slammers tracking him and was surprised they did not open fire. That would, of course, have ruined his mission. But he still would have been a martyr. As it was, he would simply have to send many infidels to hell.

He crested the trees that surrounded this end of the park and smiled. The infidels had gathered in huge numbers to see their parade. This would be a good killing, perhaps even better than that of the martyrs of 9/11. Many of the Americans would die and that was always a good thing.

He flinched, though, as tracers flew past the nose of the aircraft and looked down. A man was standing in the roadway holding a machine gun to his shoulder and firing up at the plane.

Well, there was only one thing to do. Farzad hit the release and began to spew VX out of the back of the converted Piper.

Mike cursed as vapor began to bellow out of the back of the bird. Most of the Keldara had MOPP gear in their bags, but he wasn’t wearing his and neither were any of the civilians. So he kept his finger clamped on the trigger as the plane droned across the lake, laying down a cloud of deadly gas behind it.

He’d led it by too much at first, probably just right if it had been a shot from the side but the plane was heading, more or less, just at him from right to left. As he corrected it banked towards Cinderella’s castle and another stream of tracers headed towards it, falling low. Nikolai finally had a shot.

Mike kept his finger on the trigger, mentally blessing the designers of the new generation of M-60 and kept his elation down as the stream of fire finally hit the engine cowling. The engine began to smoke and as he followed the line back into the bird it banked to the side, out of control, and began plummeting downwards.

However, the thing was still filled with VX and it was headed down towards the crowd gathered for the parade. Most of the crowd had scattered, screaming, as he opened fire and it became obvious what was happening. One girl, though, was just standing there, paralyzed.

The plane shuddered again, the vapor cutting off for some reason, and staggered through the air, headed for the Haunted Mansion. Mike wasn’t really paying attention, though. He’d dropped the machine gun and was sprinting across the open area towards the frozen girl.

He heard the guy behind him shout something, but he wasn’t paying attention to that, either. He figured he had about a one in four chance of reaching the girl before the plane smacked into the small hill the Haunted Mansion was on and covered the whole area in toxin.

Will had kept ahold of the ammo box, watching the stream of fire from the guy in civvies and saw the plane get hit. He’d even seen the burst of blood inside the cockpit that indicated the pilot had taken a good solid hit. As the plane fell he kept his eyes on it then realized the guy was gone . The ’60 was on the ground, smoking, and the guy was sprinting across the suddenly deserted road.

Mostly deserted. Lindsey, the idiot, was just standing there. Jason wasn’t in sight and hopefully Dafney had grabbed Allison and made it to cover.

But Lindsey was going to be right under where the damned plane was going to hit.

The guy in civvies, though, either didn’t realize that or didn’t care. He snatched Lindsey up without slowing down, the girl’s body cracking into a U as his arm hit her side, and vaulted the low iron railing around the lake with one foot on the top.

The two bodies hit the water just a moment before the plane hit the ground and the entire area was engulfed in flame. For the life of him, Will couldn’t figure out if his oldest daughter was alive or not.

“Oh, fuck…” he said, dropping to his knees. The flames were producing a towering pillar of what could only be poisonous smoke, but it was drifting to the west, away from the park. The only deadly spot was right where the guy, and his daughter, had disappeared.

Mike hit the water almost simultaneously with a wash of flame. He’d made sure the girl was down, his hand clamped over her nose and mouth, so the flame got his back not hers or her hair.

The girl was struggling in his arms but he ignored it, keeping his hand clamped over her mouth and nose as he swam through the murky water towards the boats he’d seen parked by some sort of big tree. The surface of the water was on fire and some of that fuel had to be mixed with either VX or precursors, neither of which were going to be destroyed by that temperature of fire. But, somewhere, there would be clear air. The VX wouldn’t have spread far, yet.

He got under the boats and found a pocket that looked clear. Popping up, he sniffed the air. Sure, VX didn’t have a smell, but smoke did. He might survive one whiff.

He didn’t die so he pulled the girl above the surface and let go of her mouth.

“I’m not trying to kidnap you or kill you,” Mike said, holding her up by both arms as she got a breath. “That plane back there has poison gas. Now I’m going to do another swim. You’ve got to hold your breath. And now , because the cloud could be coming this way.”

“Okay,” the girl said, wide-eyed.

“Take a deep breath,” Mike said, then clamped his hand over her nose and mouth again.

He swam out from under the boats, heading south. At least he thought it was south; it was away from the fire anyway.

He swam until he hit a concrete wall, bruising the knuckles of his hand, then followed it as it curved. When he’d gotten about as far from the crash as he was going to get he surfaced again and looked back.

The hill that Haunted Mansion perched on was seriously engulfed. But the smoke was mostly going straight up or to the west. That was good; most of it wasn’t headed for the park.

The problem was he couldn’t get out here. The edge of the concrete wall was a good six feet up.

There was, however, a landing just south of him. He started side-stroking that way, the girl still held with his right arm.

“Hey, buddy,” a voice called above him.