A link cord connected the blasting caps on each strip, and led back to the detonation button cradled in Yolanda’s gloved hand. She was conscious to keep her finger well away from the button at this point. It might not be enough to kill, but the Primacord could certainly take a hand off at the wrist.
Danny and Colby took up position at the far end and gave the ‘Ready’ signal. Yolanda nodded and glanced back towards the tunnel, where Terry nodded and gave another ‘Ready’ signal. Micky nodded and made it three-for-three. The whole thing had taken less than a minute.
She held up three fingers, ensuring all the teams could see.
Stand by.
Three… two… one…
Yolanda flipped up the cover switch and pressed the detonator.
The teams recoiled from the daisychain of blasts that ripped through the station. The tube train doors tore open, accompanied by screams and shrieks from dozens of terrified commuters.
In the tunnel, Terry and Bravo team unleashed an organophosphor shit-storm towards the glistening eyeshine. The waiting pack of Taints were mowed down in a heel-drumming firework display. The organophosphor payloads sent their bodies into overdrive, coursing through their veins like lava and igniting into an explosion of guts and body parts. An intense fire consumed every last one of the bastards, sending clouds of hot ash cascading and tumbling into eddies and whirls, which pulsed down the tunnels and sent the ex-Taints spiralling into oblivion.
A series of double taps took out the last stragglers, including one that lunged towards Terry’s face, slashing at him with a freshly mutilated hand. Terry calmly grouped two FMJs in the centre of the bastard’s chest, and watched the creature thrash on the floor. This must’ve been the one Colby stomped on earlier. “Manicure that, motherfucker!” Without even a hint of a reflexive flinch, he grinned as the Taint exploded. Terry shouldered the C8 carbine and did a quick double check. “Tunnel clear.”
“Get the civvies out.” Yolanda kept her instructions minimal and crystal clear. She trusted every one of her team to do their job. They didn’t need babysitting.
Terry responded. “Copy that,” and motioned to Bravo team. He stabbed a finger towards the train. “Civvies! Out!” The team sprinted back up the tracks and up onto the platform, each taking a carriage and shouting at the terrified passengers to “MOVE!” First one and then a flood of commuters poured out of the carriages. They were shoved unceremoniously towards the exit by Bravo Team. Micky Cox stood on the stairs, ushering the flow of terrified humanity up the stairs and to safety.
From the end carriage a screaming, rolling roar of fury echoed around the platform, amplified by the station’s acoustics. It stopped everyone dead in their tracks — civilian and squaddie alike. Something deep inside every man, woman and child’s soul sat up and screamed in terror.
It was a primeval sensation that stripped away the cosy blanket of safety from an ultra-modern world, like the growl of a wolf next to your ear, or the brush of talons on the back of your neck. It spoke of vast, dark forests and starlit, shadow-filled nights, the sharp tin tang of snow in the air and the metallic taste of your own blood bubbling up in your throat.
It promised nothing but death.
And it was pissed. Man, it was pissed…
Yolanda barked commands, breaking the stunned silence. “Danny! Colby! Fall back! Now!” She threw a quick glance towards Terry and Mick. “Get those bloody civilians out of here! Move!”
Danny and Colby moved carefully backwards towards Yolanda, their C8s trained in front of them, waiting for the sinewy shape of the lieutenant to emerge from the end carriage. Colby’s sighting laser didn’t waver, and Danny targeted his own so the two grouped tightly together. “Don’t cross the streams,” Danny muttered, prompting a snort from Colby.
“That would be bad. That would be very bad.”
They cross-stepped their way back towards the exit point. “Where the fuck is he? Where is he, Col?”
“Focus, Dan. He’ll pop up any second now. We’ve pissed him off. He might not engage this time, but he’s sure as hell gonna show himself, you can bet on it.”
The Taint didn’t disappoint. Right on cue, he emerged from the end carriage, dominating the platform. He turned and faced his challengers, a vicious snarl curling his lips back from those teeth. He held up his right hand.
Danny squinted towards the monster. “What the hell is that motherfucker holding, Col?”
Colby peered through the darkness, and nearly threw up on the spot.
Dangling from its bloody fingers was a severed head that had quite clearly been forcibly torn from its body. Blood pooled at the vampire’s feet, dripping like a broken tap and bouncing off the tiled floor. The grey curls were tangled in his fingers, and the head swung gently in the hot breeze that wafted through the tunnel. Tendons and nerves dangled from the shredded neck, and two streaks of black and red ran down the cheeks, a combination of cheap, gritty mascara and blood.
The Taint threw his head back and laughed — a cruel, dangerous sound that spoke of violence yet to come. He tossed the head casually down the platform like a bowler aiming for a ten-pin strike. It rolled and bounced, coming to a stop at Colby’s feet.
Colby looked down at the once-gentle face and then back at the vampire. Sheer rage overtook him. He aimed the green laser at the thing’s chest and roared. “FIRE!”
Danny and Colby unleashed a swarm of organophosphor FMJs straight at the Taint.
He didn’t explode. He didn’t twitch and writhe as fire consumed his body. He didn’t scream and drop to the floor, heels drumming and body twisting. He merely threw his arms wide open as if welcoming the bullets into his loving embrace. His body took impact after impact.
Nothing.
The bastard didn’t even bleed.
“CEASE FIRE! CEASE FIRE, DAMN IT!” Yolanda’s voice cut through the cacophony of noise and gunfire. The last shot echoed around the tunnel and finally, silence fell.
Danny and Colby stood motionless, their fingers still on the triggers of the C8s. There was no point wasting any more ammo on this son of a bitch.
“Fall back!” Yolanda, Terry and Micky gave cover as the two men slowly moved back.
The team regrouped by the stairwell, a veritable clusterfuck of ordnance pointing straight at the lieutenant. Yolanda barked an order. “Danny? If you wouldn’t mind?”
Danny grinned, stepped forward and hoisted an AT4 Anti-tank weapon onto his shoulder. Designed specifically for confined spaces and urban warfare, it fired an 84mm round of death and destruction at anything you pointed the bastard at.
Gary turned to Colby and grinned. “Man, you gotta love those Swedes. They might be neutral, but they make seriously funky ATWs!”
Colby grinned back. “Yeah. Let’s see the bastard catch this and still smile.” He glanced up at Danny. “Fuck his day up, mate!”
“Boss?”
“Fire at will, Dan. Like Col said. Fuck his day up, there’s a good chap.” Yolanda glared at the smirking lieutenant, and suddenly gave him a bright smile and a wink. “Hey! Toothy! Catch!”
Danny took aim, and squeezed the trigger. The projectile exploded from the smooth-bore barrel and fizzed like a firework along the length of the platform.
Too late, the lieutenant realised the missile was considerably bigger than the FMJs he’d batted away like bees. His mouth formed an ‘O’ as the missile hit him directly in the chest.