Exodus

By Mark Lefebre

It had been a normal day. Pal got up at six, took a shower, and ate breakfast. He then styled his hair and left for school. Little did he know, the gods of fate were shaping his destiny. He arrived at school ten minutes early and went to business Education class early. About halfway through the period, he heard a string of pops that sounded like firecrackers. He dismissed it as his imagination. A few minutes later he heard the clacking sound of boots on tile. Then he heard the crackling string again. He realized it as gunfire. Then he heard the boots come up the steps into the room.

A large man, about 6'5" entered the room. He was carrying a assault weapon that was of unknown manufacture to Pal. His teacher, Mr. Thomas rushed the man. The man lifted his weapon and stitched him left to right across the chest, dropping him. "Nobody move!" he bellowed. The gun was propped against his hip, his finger on the trigger. One of the girls moved her hand to her face and the terrorist swung his weapon to his shoulder and fired. The slugs took off the top of her head, spraying bone and gray matter on the wall behind her. Her body slumped to the floor. The man immediately took up a defensive posture, moving into a crouch, his weapon still at his shoulder. "Nobody move!" he again shouted. Nobody moved. A second man joined the first in a crouch. On the floor below they heard another string of gunfire and a scream.

A few minutes later a large man walked in. He wore combat boots, a black beret, and fatigues. "My name is Yousef Ghalil. My resistance force has taken your school hostage. You will not be harmed if you follow my orders. The boys and the girls will be separated. You boys, go down to the lower floor. The girls will remain here." One of the guards motioned with his assault rifle. We slowly filed out. One of the boys decided to make a break for the door. A man stationed in the hall cut him to pieces with a burst of assault rifle fire, the 7.62mm slugs making him jerk and dance like a puppet on a string. He then dropped. The rest of us dove to the floor. "Get up." the guard ordered, and we did. "He was stupid and he died. If you are smart, you won't die." We were herded into the business education room and the door was locked. We sat around and talked for a few hours after which we were moved to the lunchroom to eat. After we ate we were allowed to use the bathroom and then taken back to the business room. As the man walked out the door he said "Goodnight" in almost a cordial way.

Chap. 2

In the morning we were again allowed to go to the bathroom and then to breakfast. As we looked through the cafeteria windows, we saw hundreds of armed men outside. I could see FBI, HRT, and local police. During the day several men placed medium sized, military green boxes throughout the school. One of the older boys recognized the contents as plastic explosive. Wires led from the boxes to the library where the terrorists had set up a headquarters. Several phone lines entered here along with Fax machines and Internet hookups. The wires from the explosives led to a small panel on the desk where Yousef sat. With the touch of several buttons he could destroy the school. They had given their demands to the police the day they had taken the school. Free the Libyan terrorists that had hijacked an airliner a week before, bring food and blankets to the school and leave all phone lines and communications connections intact. A terrorist negotiator tried to reason with the terrorists but to no avail. They said if their demands weren't met within 24 hours one student would die and every 24 hours after that they would kill another student until their demands were met.

Washington went apeshit. Several human rights groups tried to march on the white house to try to force the president to accept the terrorists demands. They were met with dogs and tear gas. The president (Who was a pussy to start with) demanded that the terrorists release the hostages they had taken. They answered with a dead body thrown out the front door. The government decided on a surgical strike inside the school. Little did they know that inside the school a single student had figured out how to unravel the terrorists grasp on the building. All the wires that led to the explosives connected to a main terminal in a side room of the library. All he had to do was get in there, cut one wire and get out. Getting in proved the hardest. First he had to disable the security cameras that guarded the room. This was accomplished by cutting power to the security cameras. While the terrorists repaired the cable in another part of the building, Pal cut the wires that led tot he explosives. He gained entry to the room through the ventilation ducts. These were very small but the knowledge that they all might die if he didn't succeed made him wire-thin. Getting tools to cut the cable and camouflage the cut proved even harder than fooling the cameras. He eventually found that a modified scissors worked tolerably well as a pliers, and the broken blade of a jackknife worked as a straight screwdriver. Pal used another section of ducktape to cover the separated portion of the cable. He also covered other sections of the cable with the tape so the terrorists would assume that the cable had been repaired before. This accomplished he again cut power to the cameras . He then escaped back through the ducts to the business Ed room where his absence had not been noted.

Chap. 3

Twelve Navy SEAL’s had deployed against the doorway of the east entrance. One of the twelve was currently working on the lock. He stood up, nodded to the others and resumed his position in line. The front man leveled an H&K breaching shotgun and pulled the trigger twice in succession. The door hinges blew off and the men plowed in. The sniper immediately set up position with his Barret .50 caliber rifle. The other men had MP5’s with blade and ring sights and three had night scopes. As one of them peered around a corner a guard spotted him. Shouting a warning, his rifle began to spew fire. The SEAL’s returned it. Three more terrorists plowed around a corner into a wall of 9mm slugs. Two of them were shredded but the third had time to get off a long burst that killed two SEAL’s before he fell. One terrorist had a Skorpion machine pistol. He was especially devastating to the team. Surprising them on their flank, his gun fired large stabs of flame through the smoke. Three more SEAL’s fell before the rest got him. The heavy thudding of the .50 suddenly fell silent. One of the men looked back and saw a terrorist finish slitting his throat. The SEAL reached into his boot and withdrew a four inch folding knife. Flicking it open by the thumbstud, he whipped it into the man’s throat. "We gotta retreat." The captain yelled. The men moved back toward the entrance but were stopped cold by a crossfire from another room.

"We’re cut off cap’n" one of the men yelled. Then additional reinforces for the terrorists arrived. The increased volume of fire was too much. with bullets flying everywhere, one by one the SEAL’s fell. The last man charged the terrorist line with a gun in both hands, blasting with everything he had. More than three hundred 7.62 rounds chewed his body into and unrecognizable lump of meat. The terrorists moved among the bodies and collected weapons and equipment. They dumped them into a classroom in the old wing and left a man to guard them. It was only then that they found the six students that had been cut down in the cross fire.

Chap. 4

A day later the President laid his head on his desk and wished for an aspirin. How was he to tell the parents and the press that his carefully planned surgical strike had failed? His mistake had the cost of the lives of twelve of his men and a half-dozen of the students. He wished again for an aspirin and called for his personal aid to get one. He felt better after taking the medicine and began writing his speech for the press conference that was to take place that afternoon.

As the president mounted the stage, polite clapping was all that was heard. The Pres. wondered if word of the defeat of his team had leaked. He began his address to the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen of the press. Yesterday a team of SEAL's attempted a small scale surgical strike on Seaside University. As you all know, this university was taken hostage early three days ago by a group of Libyan fundamentalists. They have released some of the students they hold but, they still have about 25 students in custody. It is my sad duty to report that the strike failed at the cost of life of the entire strike team and several of the students." A convulsive shudder ran through the assembled press corps. They knew the implications that such a failed strike would cause. The Pres. continued. "The terrorists have threatened to destroy the school if their demands aren't met by a deadline of noon tomorrow. We will not bend to the wishes of these fanatics. We will only comply with demands that insure the safety and health of the students. The terrorists do not believe they are invincible. But the loss of the strike team proves they are ready for any scenario. Including the taking of the school by force." The members of the press jumped to their feet and began shouting questions.

"Mr. President, June Taylor, National News. Does the military have plans for another operation?"

"No." the Pres. answered. "Gen. Atkinson feels that another strike attempt would only cause unneeded deaths to our men and to the students of the school. That is all I have to say for now. My aids will arrange personal interviews for you if you wish."

The president walked off the stage amidst a cloud of questions hurled at him. He walked back to the oval office and collapsed in the cushioned leather chair behind his desk. "What next?" he muttered to himself.

Chap. 5

Back inside the school things had quieted down after the turmoil of the attack. The guards didn't shoot at anything that moved after dark anymore and the children were again allowed to roam the building freely with the exception of the library where the terrorists headquarters was housed. Pal allowed himself to roam a little more freely than the others, walking in little used halls and poking inside rooms that no one had entered during the entire duration of the siege. It was in these rooms that he hoarded equipment and planned. After a while the guards didn't question his entering these rooms. To them he was just another bored student looking for something to do. In one of the rooms he found an entrance to the storage area of the science lab. The science lab was guarded at all hours because of the chemicals stored here. He knew if he was ever found here, death would be instantaneous. He quickly found the ammonia cleanser and than took the iodine from the first aid kit and began mixing them to the proportions he remembered from and old chemistry book he had once read. The last ingredients in place, he wrapped his homemade bomb in paper towels and stashed it in a desk drawer. Sixty pounds of force would set off the homemade bomb. The two chemicals mixed together and dried created a potent explosive. He then left for the john. Finished there, he returned to the room in which the boys stayed most of the time. Quiet talking and laughter met his ears. "Hey Pal, where you been?" a voice assailed him from a far corner. "In the shitter." Was his reply. He found a semi-empty corner, a blanket, and soon fell asleep.

The next morning found him again wandering the halls of the school. He looked as though he was simply dawdling in boredom but he was really heading for a room in the far end of the school that had a ventilation duct leading to the room where the terrorists had stored the weapons taken from the killed assault team. The room was heavily guarded but the terrorists didn't monitor the ducts. This was their mistake. It allowed him to enter and exit almost any room in the school without being noticed. The floor level ducts allowed for perfect entry and exit. The snap on grills made for easy installation were a blessing to him as they were easy to install from the inside. As he made for the weapons room, as he called the storage area that housed the captured arms, several thoughts ran through his mind. He had never taken a life. To get his friends out he might have to kill. Maybe more than once. The thought of it chilled him. As a wise man once said: " It's a hard thing, Killin' a man. To take away all he's got, and all he's ever gonna have." Pal almost cried when he thought of that famous phrase and the weight it carried. He made the weapons room a couple of minutes later. Silently removing the grill that covered the duct he slipped into the room. The terrorists had chosen badly. A door without a window allowed him to move freely inside the room. Quickly taking stock of what was there, he chose a combat harness that had grenades, Smoke and Fragmentation, a Stiletto knife, and what he guessed as a 9mm pistol with a silencer. A canteen was also attached. He added several MRE pouches to the belt and then put a half dozen clip pouches for the pistol and a medium bag of submachinegun magazines to the ensemble. He then chose a silenced 9mm submachinegun that had a 20mm cannon attached to one side. He quickly got a pouch of 20mm rounds and slipped back into the ducts with his stolen gear. He would come back later and get more weapons and ammo. He took the gear to a central ductwork area he had found. The constant flow of warm or cool air kept the place at a good temperature and covered any sounds he might make. A large grill made up the floor. He assumed it led to the forced air furnace that heated and cooled the school. He had brought a blanket in with him earlier and had made a small nest here. He laid the stolen equipment here along with his other possessions.

Chap. 6

Negotiators had worked the terrorists for hours. They got almost no response from them. They wouldn't budge on the demands. Several students had been executed to try to force them to meet the demands. When the demands weren't met by the deadline the terrorists realized that their executions only further stiffened the resistance to their demands. The executions stopped. The government was baffled. They couldn't take the school by force, they couldn't talk them out. And they surley couldn't meet their demands. A meeting of the JCS's led to no viable options. The President had nothing to tell the press except that they had no future plans to take the school by force. As the president saw it there was absolutely no way to get the kids out of there. And it looked as though negotiations were going to fail also. "What a damn mess." he muttered to himself.

Chap. 7

After stashing the equipment he had stolen, Pal moved through the ducts at a speed that amazed him. He made the best time possible to the bathroom and slipped out. Crossing the hall he waved cheerily to the guard, to his surprise the guard waved back. Running over the complications of this in his mind, he descended the steps to the lower level of the school and entered the dining hall. He came here not often. It was guarded as was almost everything else in the school. But the guard that was stationed near it recognized his face and allowed him to pass. He picked up a sack of cookies and walked back outside. As of now he hadn't found a duct leading in or out of the kitchen area. He assumed this was so fumes and heat couldn't get out of the kitchen.

The next day Pal was doing his usual exploration of the ducts when he heard the faint muffled scream of someone in pain. Loosening a grille he stepped out an saw one of the more pretty girls of the school being dragged off into a secluded room. He replaced the grate and followed through the ducts. He scrambled at top speed to his nest and grabbed the silenced pistol and his stiletto. With 15 rounds to work with he figured he could take out the would be rapist. He silently slipped out of the duct with the pistol ahead of him and spotted the man tying the girl to a desk. It was the first time in his life he had fired a gun and it had a strange effect on him. He felt some primeval hate well up inside of him and he took more careful aim at the exposed back of the man. Pal rapped his knuckles on an exposed countertop. The khaki-clad mercenary only had time to spin around and open his mouth before the silenced slugs ripped his body of life. Pal looked at the pistol with admiration instead of the single shot he had anticipated, the weapon had fired a three shot burst of the FMJ 9 mm rounds. Pal slipped the pistol into his belt and cut the bonds that held the girl. Carrying her inert form he slipped into the familiar maze of ducts and moved to his nest.

He gently laid her limp body on a triple layer of blankets and put another over her. She soon slept. He watched her as she slept taking in every detail of her face and hands. The sharp angles of her nose and the smooth lines of her jaw. Her hands were petite and light pink. He saw her begin to stir. She slowly awoke from her unconscious stupor. As she opened her eyes she started, looking at the galvanized metal of the duct wall she tried to sit up. Pal gently held her down and said: "Lay still. You're all right now. Just lay still." She began to cry softly as she remembered what was about to happened to her. He was sitting a scant foot from her head and she slipped into his lap. Crying softly on his shoulder she let him hold her. As she shuddered her grief against him, he stroked her head and made a mental decision to kill everyone of the bastards. Long after she stopped crying she still sat in his lap, her head on his shoulder. She began to talk to him. Whispering incomprehensible gibberish at first then making intelligible words. "What...Happened?" she asked him. "I killed him." was his simple answer. She said no more and simply replaced her head on his shoulder. Later Pal remembered laying her sleeping body back on the mat of blankets and covering her. She had said only one word in the several hours they had sat together. Her name. To Pal it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. "Jody." He fell asleep under his only other blanket a few minutes later. The grating was cold and hard on his back but if it made Jody more comfortable he would have given her his blanket too. Pal realized that for the first time he was feeling real love. He fell asleep with the thought that he would storm the gates of hell for her.

Chap. 8

Pal awoke to the familiar, faint twilight of sunlight filtering through the ducts. Jody still slept beside him. He began to think about what he should do. By now he spent the majority of his time in the ducts. He had begun to think of them as a second home. He made a conscious decision to make his home in these ducts. He knew Jody would follow his lead. He also decided to return to the weapons room and take everything he thought he might need for a full scale war against the terrorists.

Chap. 9

In the CP. Yousef was having a shit-fit. The body of one of his men had been found in a empty room. What he was doing there no one knew. What was more strange was that he had been killed by a silenced weapon. No one outside the school would fire inside for fear of retaliation. All the terrorists inside the school had was 7.62 Communist Bloc rifles. The man appeared to have been killed with something larger. It came to him in a flash. The weapons they had taken from the strike team! He jumped the desk in a single leap as he headed for the door. "Follow me!" He screamed at the two guards. Charging down the hall, their boots made rhythmic slaps against the hard concrete floor. It was these slaps that alerted Pal to their approach. He quickly gathered everything within his reach and stuffed it into the duct. Pal then scrambled in after it. Quickly jerking the grate back in place he had slid the gear back about a dozen feet and was coming back for a machine pistol he had dropped when the terrorists sprang into the room. A few feet inside the duct Pal sat as still as was humanly possible. He slowly puled back the bolt on the SMG and let it slide back forward. A soft clinking noise was all it made. He was glad that the soldiers of the strike had thought to carry pistols that loaded silently. The men searched the room and cried out when they spotted the missing equipment. "Fuckin-A!" the leader shouted. His next order was to confine everyone to their assigned rooms. Pal heard this order and began to comprehend how it would make his plan more difficult to execute. He knew that the terrorists would shoot on sight anyone outside of their rooms past the assigned times. After the men left he returned the SMG to safety and began hauling the equipment back to his nest.

When he returned to the nest with his last load of equipment, Jody had awoken and was stretching. "How do you feel?" Pal asked her.

"Not too bad." was her answer.

"Hungry?"

"Kinda."

Pal handed her an MRE and a canteen with some water in it. "Eat up. We don't have much time." After she finished the MRE, Pal began to instruct her in the use of the weapons he had stolen. The pistols were easy. Pull back the slide, down the safety, aim and fire. He did not tell her about the three shot burst regulator. The subguns were a little more complicated. He demonstrated how to load and unload, how to take the safety off and fire. The full auto and semi auto settings were what made it difficult. The ring sights also baffled him. They looked to fragile and they were useless without the missing rear sight. The absence of this crucial part of the weapon baffled him until he opened a single padded case. Two telescopic sights and a trio of blade sights lay nestled in the box. Apparently they had been spares. Pal fitted one of the telescopic sights as best he could figure and tightened it down. As he peered through it down the long tunnel of the duct, the crosshairs appeared to glow in the dim environment. He reached up and flipped a switch on the side of the bulky scope. Suddenly everything in the scope flashed and he could see the outline of everything in the tunnel. He dropped the weapon from his shoulder and stared at it in admiration. So this was the fabled night-vision scope he had read about in his favorite science magazine. He again lifted it to his shoulder and peered into its glowing interior. This would give him a decided advantage in the dim halls. Tiny marks were set at intervals around the perimeter of the scopes field of view. Pal surmised that these were used for precision sighting. He then thought if he could cut power to the buildings at night he would be the only one that could see to shoot. He could take out many men before he was forced to retreat to the ducts. The other NV scope he fixed up to use as a telescope to see in the dark while not having to hold a gun to his shoulder. He fixed the remaining 2 SMG's with the blade sights in the box. Jody watched him do all this with interest. Asking questions now and then, and looking through the NV scope once. The previous day Pal had found a duct leading outside. It was this duct that he used for firearms practice. He trained himself and Jody to fire the weapons he had taken from the storage room. He had to remove a fan that was in the way and find another duct to store it in, but this was no major task. They then commenced practice. Pal allowed them two pistol magazines and 3 magazines of subgun ammo for practice. The silenced rounds spewed out of the duct as they fired. Empty cartridge cases plinked against the sides of the duct. When they had expended their allotted ammo, Pal called a halt to the practice. He figured that they could hit almost anything at short ranges.

The next day Pal revisited the arms storage room. He slipped out of the duct with a subgun in his hand. The man guarding the door charged him. Pal swung his subgun to bear and squeezed off a burst that caught the terrorist dead center in the forehead. The terrorist slumped against the wall. Pal knew it was simply a matter of a few minutes before his absence would be noted. He began shoving equipment into the duct. A large padded case caught his eye. Quickly flipping it open he saw laying before him a long, bull barreled sniper rifle. A legend on its sideplate told him it was a .50 caliber rifle made by Barret. Also in the case were several magazines and large boxes of ammunition. He heard footsteps in the hall. Quickly slamming shut the padded case, Pal shoved it into the duct and followed it. Pushing his gear ahead of him he headed for his nest. He had taken almost all the ammunition there was in the room for his weapons. He had also taken several more subguns and pistols. A spare battle harness for Jody and the sniper rifle was all he had been able to capture before being interrupted.

Jody was waiting for him when he returned to the nest. She helped him fit sights to the subguns he had stolen and test fire them. After they finished with the weapons, Pal fitted Jody with the stolen battle harness. Adjusting its straps, he found the correct fit for her petite body. She looked out of place in the black web gear. She was wearing a pink T-shirt and the black webbing of the harness stood out against its light color. Pal hadn't had time to grab the black coveralls that the strike team had worn. They like everything else in the room had been removed and taken to the CP. in the library after the dead guard had been found.

Chap. 10

In Washington word of the failed negotiations leaked to the press. Ten minutes later NBC, ABC and CBS ran special reports on television. These reports stated that negotiations had failed and the military was considering another strike attempt. The military actually was considering a strike, but it was not of the conventional type. Their plans were to bombard the school with tear gas and smoke bombs. After these created havoc, a team would enter and retake the school. Surgeon general Rita Hooter shit kittens when she heard the military's plan. An avowed liberal she believed that the terrorists would kowtow to her if she personally led the negotiations. This image of the terrorists quickly dissipated when one of them told her over open air to go fuck a duck. The terrorists them heard a heavy thump over the air. Rita Hooter had passed out dead on the floor.

Back at the school the terrorists had cut off all communications with the outside world. The students were again confined to their rooms. Small groups were allowed out to eat and use the restroom. Pal heard the attack plans over one of the handy-talkies he had taken from the storage room. He had learned to use them in the enormous amount of spare time he had. Jody learned them beside him. Pal figured their range was just over 100 yards inside the ducts. Probably more outside them. Pal then decided with Jody's help to launch his own attack in conjunction with the tear gas attack from the outside. He monitored the radio 16 hours a day, Listening to the transmissions. He did not broadcast his own situation because he figured anything he had, the terrorists had. The attack was to take place the next day at 12:00 noon.

Chap. 11

The attack came exactly as planned. Tear gas canisters rained in through the windows along with ferret rounds of smoke. What the attack planners had not figured on was the terrorists having gas masks. They were impervious to the smoke and tear gas. Fighting just as hard as if there was no smoke and gas, the attack team was forced back with 50% losses.

Pal meanwhile was waging his own war with the terrorists. Hearing the gas canisters break the windows and the ferret rounds whooshing in and the dull thuds of their explosions gave him cover to set up the Barret .50 behind the terrorist defense line. A full 11-shot mag. in place, Pal peered through the scope and opened up. At his first shot a huge ball of fire filled the duct he was hidden in. The huge slug slammed into a kneeling terrorist blowing a hole in him you could put a fist into. Quickly squeezing off another shot, Pal destroyed a canister of ammunition clips beside another man. A few of the terrorists began to realize they were being hit from behind. Some of them began spraying bullets in Pal's direction. Pal slipped the fire indicator on the Barret to full auto, settled the stock into his shoulder and held the trigger back. The heavy .50 shell cases rattled against the wall next to him. The heavy recoil of the huge weapon lifted it off the floor of the duct and several of the slugs whistled over the terrorists heads. He expended the remainder of the 11-shot clip and slipped in another. His shoulder began to ache as he fired the Barret in 3-shot bursts. A section of the terrorists line began to thin under the barrage of heavy fire he put out. Again the clip in the Barret ran dry. His shoulder was now numb from the heavy hammering of the gun. Slipping in the only 20-round mag. he had, Pal got to his knees and, spraying slugs, scrambled for a duct. Bullets from the terrorists rifles skipped and sparked around him. One man charged from the line, a rifle flashing in his hands. Pal cut him down with a quick double tap from the .50, but not before a bullet from his rifle scored Pal's arm. A white-hot pain surged up his arm and it fell useless to his side. Dragging the flashing Barret behind him, he scrambled into the ducts. The last 5 rounds in the clip turned several charging terrorists into a red, pulpy mush that spouted viscera and blood.

Crawling through the ducts, the pain in Pal's arm increased dramatically. he had almost no medical supplies, and not enough knowledge to use them. He eventually had to leave the Barret behind. With only one arm to work with, it became too difficult to maneuver the long rifle around corners. Pal drug himself to his nest where Jody was waiting, subgun in hand. "You've been shot!" she almost screamed. "No shit." Pal added dryly. She quickly got their small bag of medical supplies and patched up the wound as best she could. Jody had been monitoring the radio traffic over the handy-talkies. She had learned this attack too, had been repelled. The SEAL's had lost 4 men and some equipment. As a result of the attack the terrorists had executed 3 students. Their bodies had been tossed onto the school lawn.

It took several days for Pal to recuperate from the bullet he had caught in the brief firefight that day. As he had instructed her, Jody retrieved the abandoned Barret and Pal's bag of shells for it. While his arm healed, Pal reloaded all the magazines for the Barret and the few expended magazines for the 9mm's that Jody had fired at Yousef. Pal had not test fired the 20mm cannon as it was not silenced and he figured it would give away their position.

Chap. 12

The night of the fourth day Pal decided to find an outside accomplice. He didn't want Jody to come with him, but she picked up a NV scoped subgun and her battle harness. If she was determined to follow him he wasn't going to tell her no. As they traveled through the ducts Pal tried to decide where they should emerge. He knew going to the library would be suicide and emerging in the hall they were sure to be caught. He decided to enter the classroom where the boys were being held. A large classroom, it had been carpeted and made a halfway comfortable place to sleep. Pal could see sleeping forms huddled under a blanket or two almost everywhere. Some were propped in chairs, others laid on the floor. As Pal slowly made his way amongst the slumbering boys he spotted the slumped form of the guard sitting in a chair outside the room. Quickly swinging the NV subgun to his shoulder, he brought the crosshairs to bear on the man's head. The terrorist didn't even flinch as the silenced 9x19mm's slammed into his body. Pal lowered the subgun on its sling and quickly found the form of his best friend, Jim Hanson. Silently slipping his hand over his mouth, Pal woke him with a quiet "It's me. It's me." Recognizing the voice Jimmy sat up and asked: "What the hell are you doing here? I thought they killed you a week ago when you disappeared."

"Nope. I escaped and stole some weapons. Been raisin' holy hell with em'. Killed a few. Here. Take this." Pal pressed a silenced 9mm autoloader into his palm and handed him a spare clip. "Kill some if you can." Pal showed him how to load and fire the pistol. "If you are about to get caught, get into the heating ducts and head towards the center of the building. I'll find you." Pal slipped away as quietly as he had come. Jimmy felt the cold steel of the pistol in his hand and felt a power he hadn't ever felt before. Laying back down he placed the pistol under an overhang the bottom of an enclosed table where he kept a paperback book he had stolen and a small penlight he had in his pocket at the beginning of the siege. After he had slipped off to sleep he was awakened by the clacking of booted feet of the relief guard. Reaching under the shelf he grabbed the pistol and loaded it like Pal had showed him. Jimmy slipped around the end of the table until he was aligned with the door. He slipped off the safety and cocked the pistol. Peering across the top he saw three luminous dots. When they lined up on the chest of the man, Jimmy squeezed the trigger. The gun jumped in his hands and a shell case hit the wooden table with a soft plunk. The guard hit the floor as Jimmy's shot cracked over his head. His finger hit the trigger of his assault rifle and a burst of 7.62's chewed the floor a foot away from Jimmy. Pulling the trigger again, Jimmy hit the terrorist in the arm making him drop his rifle. Jumping to the quivering body, Jimmy gave him a coup' de grace. A bullet to the forehead. Thinking he was putting the pistol on safety Jimmy inadvertently put it on three shot burst. Gripping the pistol tighter that ever, Jimmy reloaded his clip and waited for the next change of guard. An hour later the lone terrorist walked up, his rifle slung, to take the guards place. Jimmy slid his finger in the trigger guard and squeezed it. The pistol jumped in his hand and the three shell cases rattled on the exposed tile of the hall floor. Jimmy didn't notice the three shot burst but did see the terrorists fall. Jimmy quickly slung both rifles and the terrorists ammo belts around his body and began setting up an ambush for the roving patrol. His ambush set, Jimmy waited for a few minutes till the roving patrol began walking up his hall. Jumping around the corner, Jimmy fired the pistol dry into the forms of the men. All but one dropped. Jimmy dove to his knees and brought a stolen rifle on-line. Pulling the trigger to its stops, Jimmy felt the rifle buck and jerk in his hands. The staccato chatter of it deafened him in the enclosed hall. Jimmy knew the gunfire would bring more guards. He thought to himself: It is a good day to die. Loading the rifle with a new clip he sat and waited for the reinforcements he knew would come. Jimmy was crouched behind a small inlet into the wall that allowed space for a drinking fountain. The fountain had been malfunctioning and had been removed for repair before the siege. It was in this empty recess that Jimmy crouched, rifle in hand. Looking behind him he saw the grate of a ventilation duct. This was to prove vital to him later. He soon heard the clacking of boots on the cement floor. Risking a peek Jimmy saw at least a dozen armed terrorists racing toward him. Stepping out, Jimmy swung the rifle to his shoulder and began squeezing out measured bursts. The line of terrorists began to waver and fall. So far none had returned any effective fire. Jimmy's rifle ran dry and he pulled the other from its sling and continued firing. Seeing the terrorists were about to overwhelm him, Jimmy scrambled back to the recess and entered the duct he had seen earlier. Jerking the grate back in place he fired into the legs of men that ran past him. Slinging his two rifles Jimmy headed for the center of the building as Pal had instructed him. It wasn't till now that Jimmy noticed a wound in his side. It appeared as a bullet had skimmed his ribcage. The wound hadn't bled much but now was bleeding profusely as he wound his way through the ducts. His rifles banged on the sides of the duct and he left them along with his ammo belts. Pal would find them. One hand clutching his side, Jimmy wandered through the ducts until he could wander no more. He then collapsed unconscious.

Pal had viewed Jimmy's gun battle and escape into the ducts from the second floor ceiling grate. He then searched him out and carried him to the nest. Pal sent Jody to retrieve Jimmy's rifles while he patched him up. Dressing Jimmy's wounds used the last of their medical supplies. Pal knew also their food and water supplies were running low. They had much difficulty obtaining fresh food and had been living off the C-rations and the MRE's that Pal had stolen in the early days of the siege. Water was also a problem. They had several canteens but filling them had proved difficult. Pal had found a spigot in the basement, but it was almost impossible to get to. It was easier to get water from the drinking fountains around the school. Pal had previously obtained water from the sawed off feeder line of the fountain that had been removed. But, since Jimmy's gunfight the hall was guarded and this restricted his movement. They had 4 canteens full of water remaining when their supply was cut off. Plus, with Jimmy injured he would consume more water then normal. This would deplete their supply even faster.

While these thoughts were mingling in his head, Jody returned with the rifles Jimmy had stolen. Pal rummaged through the belts Jimmy had taken from the guards. One belt had 5 full clips and a half-full canteen. The other held only two clips and a small sheath knife. Pal didn't know the workings of the rifles but they looked simple enough. The writing on them was in a foreign language that Pal couldn't decipher. When Jimmy awoke He showed Pal the workings of the rifles he had stolen. In turn, Pal gave Jimmy another pistol for the one he had lost.

That evening the three of them sat around a small lantern and discussed the situation. "What do we have for supplies?" Pal asked Jody. "Three MRE's, 2 C-rations and five canteens of water. We have 22 magazines of 9mm subgun ammunition, 12 pistol magazines, 24 rounds of 20mm ammo, 5 subguns one with a 20mm cannon, 4 pistols and 3 knives. 3 hand grenades and a smoke canister plus Jimmy's rifles and 7 clips of ammo for them." While Jody was reeling off their supplies and equipment, Pal had opened a C-rat. and distributed the contents among them. As they ate their meager fare and sipped water from their canteens they discussed their next move. "I want to go on the offensive." Pal threw out. "Kill as many of them as possible and then get gone. Guerrilla tactics." "what about the rest of the students?" was Jody's reply. "That's the problem." Pal returned. "How can we escape and take the rest of the kids with us?" Jimmy spoke after a long silence. "We can't leave them. I overheard the guards talking one night. Once their demands are met, they will destroy the school. The three pondered this latest turn of events. "That's it then. We have to fight. We don't stop until they kill all of us or we kill all of them!" Jimmy and Jody stared at Pal after his final statement. If they agreed to this it would mean they signed their own death warrants. Pal extended his fist out to arms length. "To the end." Jimmy and Jody extended their fists out to touch his. "To the end!"

Chap. 13

A few hours later they were awakened by the sound of screams and a sharp slapping sound. To Pal it was the day he had found Jody all over again. Grabbing the first weapon that came to hand he ended up with the Barret .50. Scrambling to the source of the screams Pal and Jimmy saw a terrorist raping a girl while several others watched. He had sent Jody to watch the hall behind them. Pal made a sharp slashing motion under his chin and then pointed into the room. Jimmy nodded his understanding. Rising up he smashed through the overhead grate and crashed into the room. One of the men had his rifle ready and caught Jimmy flat-footed with a full clip of 7.62 hollow points. Jimmy's lifeless body made a dull thud when it hit the wall behind him. It left a slippery red streak on the fake wood paneling. At the sight of his friends lifeless body Pal felt sick. Pulling his silenced pistol from his pants shot both the men who were watching. The girl lay on the floor and Pal could see her jeans and panties around her ankles. The terrorists on top of her slapped her severely. Pal dropped into the room with the .50 at his hip.

"Pardon the intrusion, but if you touch her once more I'm gonna blow your fucking head off!" The terrorists complied. The muzzle of the .50 looked like the nozzle of a fire hose. "Cover up." was Pal's next order. "The girl too." The very frightened terrorist did as he was told. But before Pal could stop him, he plunged a sheath knife into the girls chest, killing her. Two .50 caliber slugs ripped through his guts and sent pieces of them flying. The man dropped to his knees in unbelievable agony. "That'll learn ya." Pal said in his best western drawl. Only now did he hear the sounds of a firefight outside. Jody was huddled down behind a wooden dividing wall. As he watched a burst of bullets showered her with splinters. She crouched up and returned fire from her subgun. She crouched back down again and saw him peeking out the door. "Pal!" she screamed. In the next instant a hollow point bullet hit the side of her head ripping away one eye and most of her cheek. "NO!" Pal yelled "Oh fuck no!" cradling her smashed head against his shoulder Pal felt an anger like he had never experienced well up inside of him. Pulling the .50 into battery he began to blast at the terrorist shouting: "Fuck you bastards!"

Spraying huge slugs in the direction of the men Pal emptied his rage into their inert forms. His .50 ran dry after a few seconds of full-auto fire. Slinging it he grabbed Jody's subgun and belt of clips. Before he left her body he bent down and kissed her remaining cheek. He whispered in her ear. "I loved you." Tears streaming down his cheeks he gathered his gear and headed for a vent. Moving through the ducts in his accustomed stride his equipment didn't bang against the sides of the ducts like it did when he first moved in.

Pal arrived at his nest as night fell outside the school. Night was a lonely time for Pal. Now without Jimmy and Jody it was even worse. Their deaths weighed heavily on his soul.

Chap. 14

Outside the school the press was hammering the president and his aides for any information from inside the school. Only one message had exited the walls of the school: "A small resistance force has tried to defend the school. These rebels were killed today." To the outsiders it sounded as though the terrorists hadn't lost a man. This in fact was not the truth. The loss of life on the terrorists side had been appalling. Those untrained students had killed 20 of his best mercenaries! The terrorists leader knew if he lost many more men he would lose control of the situation. He could keep control of the school only if he had enough men to guard it. With his current number of men, if another assault came, he probably would lose part of the school.

Pal now took his grudge against the terrorists leader personally. His men had killed the only he people he had ever called his friends. He would pay for that as the men had. Pal decided to enact a scorched earth policy. He would hunt them down. One by one. He would live up to his decree and to kill all of them he could. Laying down he couldn't fall asleep. He figured it was the shock of the day. Seeing both of his best friends killed in cold blood had altered his mind. Rising from his palate Pal picked up his original subgun. The one with the 20mm cannon on it. One of the rounds Pal had stolen for the weapon was a carbide-WP round. This penetrated 2 inches and then exploded. This he was saving for the terrorist leader. Pal cleaned the weapon and loaded it. Then suddenly becoming very tired he lay down and slept.

Chap. 15

The next morning Pal decided it was time for revenge. He would take out as many men as he could and if he made it, make a suicide charge on the library. Pal removed the NV sight from his subgun and replaced it with a blade sight. The scope was good for night work and long range stuff but was no good for close quarters battle. Slipping a HE 20mm round in the cannon Pal covered his battle harness with ammo pouches and grenades. Then cradling the 9mm in his arms, Pal headed to the duct that led to the main hall.

Slipping into the main hall, Pal dropped the guard with a quick burst and spun around leveling the weapon at the guard he knew was at the other end of the hall. But their was none. Pal smiled ruefully. They were so short of men they could only have one guard per hall. Slipping silently down the hall he came to the first secondary hall. Peeking around the corner he saw a terrorist not a foot from him. Knowing their wasn't room for his subgun , Pal grabbed the dagger that hung upside-down on his battle harness. Swinging it around the corner the sharp blade ripped through the terrorists right eye and pinned his dead body to the wall. Pulling his pistol, Pal shot the guard that was at the other end of the hall with a quick double tap. Slapping the pistol back into leather, Pal pulled his knife from the body and wiped it clean on the man's fatigue blouse and sheathed it. Retrieving his subgun from where it had fallen, Pal moved to the next hall.

Coming around the corner with subgun ready saved his life. The guard at the end of the hall raised his weapon and fired a short burst. Pal knew the element of surprise was lost at that moment and from here on was running on borrowed time. Not fearing discovery anymore Pal reached forward and fired the 20mm. With 7.62 stingers whistling around him Pal felt the tremendous recoil of the heavy round slam into his shoulder. Lowering the subgun slightly Pal saw the slow-moving slug drive the man back into the wall and then it exploded. Even the 25-30 feet that separated them couldn't protect Pal from the rolling detonation that reverberated in the enclosed hall. Partially deafened he saw what was left of the man. If anyone ever tried to gather his remains they would have to do it with a spoon and a bucket. Reloading the cannon Pal headed for the next hall.

This hall was the last one and it led off in several different directions because it was the only hall that led to the new wing of the building. Firing a burst down each of these halls he caught the two guards in the halls flat footed. Dropping them both used all the rounds in his clip. Pulling another from his harness, Pal saw a terrorists with rifle at the ready step around the corner. Pal reached forward and, without bracing the stock, fired the 20mm. The collapsible stock slammed into his ribs, cracking two of them. The terrorists right arm was torn off at the socket making him drop his rifle. Pal rammed home the clip he had in his hand and finished off the badly wounded man. More men had been drawn to the area by the sounds of gunfire and Pal became involved in a lively firefight with three of them. With slugs cracking over and around his head, Pal jockeyed himself into a stairwell and fired out the last of his mag. Not having time to reload, Pal pulled his pistol from leather and fired a half dozen quick shots. One of the men charged and Pal cut him down with a single shot to the forehead. Pulling a grenade from his battle harness, Pal slipped the pin from its mountings and made his best overhand throw. The grenade detonated three feet in front of the two men. Their shrapnel riddled bodies made slick tracks across the floor as they expended their rearwards momentum. Pal grabbed another clip for his subgun and put it in place. He also reloaded the 20mm cannon. This time with a white phosphorus round. Letting the gun fall to its sling Pal took a quick sip from his canteen and replaced it in its holder. Thus refreshed, he moved again towards the entrance to the library.

Chap. 16

Pal went into a crouch when he heard the foreign voices coming from the room just ahead. It wasn't the library and Pal knew that from his original estimate there wasn't hardly any terrorist force left. Five to seven people at the most. Pal reached into his pack and pulled out the Nitrogen Triiodide bomb he had built earlier. He whipped the package around the door frame and drew back. The deafening blast killed one of the two men and stunned the other. Pal drew his dagger and threw himself at the man. His unexpected onslaught took the disoriented man by surprise. The very frightened terrorist fell over a chair and ended up on the floor with Pal's dagger at his throat. "How many left?" Pal asked. The man answered in an unintelligible language. "English Dammit!" Pal screamed at him. "FFF... Five!" Was the man's reply. Pal slit his throat and left him where he lay on the floor gurgling and trying to breath through his own blood. Two down and five to go was Pal's next thought. Peeking out into the hall Pal spied a man running in his direction. Pal poked the muzzle of the 20mm out the door and fired. The round landed a foot in front of him and exploded. Particles of white phosphorus burning at 3500 degrees Celsius covered the man. It felt as though someone was pouring liquid fire on him. Pal saw the burning man fall and mentally ticked off one from the count of five. Pal slipped another WP round in the cannon and closed the breech. No sooner had he done this than a soldier stepped out of the room behind him. Pal swung the subgun and squeezed the trigger. Two rounds fired perfectly and then the bolt came to rest on an empty chamber with a soft clank. Pal reached forward and, knowing it would probably kill him, pulled the trigger of the cannon. The round impacted the soldiers chest but did not explode. Pal couldn't figure out why he was still alive. The round should have exploded. Jacking out the spent case he mumbled: "Three." After pushing in a new clip, Pal racked the bolt and replaced the spent 20mm cartridge. This time with high explosive.

Slipping out of the stairwell Pal felt two huge arms encircle him. With a sharp upward thrust, Pal got one arm free. Jerking the dagger from its sheath, Pal swung his arm back and caught the man's side with the razor-sharp blade. The man grunted and pulled away from him. Pal had only time to spin around and see the man pulling a pistol from leather and then feel a sharp burning pain in his left leg. Falling backward, Pal kicked out with all his strength and contacted the terrorists right knee. Screaming in pain, the man went down. Pal swung a fist around and crashed into the man's jaw. A loud popping sound followed and the man slumped to the floor. Pal pumped two rounds from the mans own pistol into his inert form. "Two." Blood streamed from Pal's knuckles as he fisted the subgun and put the dagger in its place.

Chap. 17

The terrorist negotiators and other officers outside the building heard the sounds of a terrific firefight developing inside. "What the hell's going on?" the lead negotiator asked. An FBI agent returned with: "Beats me." Behind them the heard the radio speaker vibrate to life. "Someone inside the school is taking out a bunch of terrorists. If we want to make a move, now's the time. Initiate plan Bravo-niner." The sergeant in charge of the radio pulled his own handy-talkie from his vest pocket and shouted into it: "First team. Clearance to enter. Entrance plan Bravo-niner. GO! GO! GO!" The six-man SWAT team moved forward from the line of vehicles that encircled the school. One was armed with a semi-automatic tear gas gun. This weapon fired 10 ferret rounds of tear gas. While the others of the team covered him, he fired a round into all the windows he could see and then doubled up on the window they were to enter. Dropping the large bore gun when it emptied the six men charged in unison when the leader swung his arm forward. Plunging through the window they met no resistance. Charging out the door of the room they had entered they saw absolutely no one. Then, from the far end of the building they heard a terrific explosion. They all looked at each other and pushed toward the source of the explosion.

Pal had encountered the last remaining man in the terrorists force. Not having time to bring the ring sights in line, Pal sung the weapon slightly low and fired. The heavy slugs bounced off the floor and spattered against the soldiers legs. Bringing the weapon up in line Pal jerked the trigger and sprayed the man with 9mm's. Hearing a sound behind him, Pal tuned and loosed the 20mm round in the gun. It went wild, skipping into the ceiling and exploding, spattering the retreating Yousef with pieces of ceiling tile. Realizing he missed, Pal loosed the rest of the clip in the leaders direction. They too went wild, tearing splinters of plaster from the walls. Cursing his own ineptness, Pal reloaded on the run and slipped the Carbide-WP round into the cannon. Racking the bolt, Pal's weapon jammed and he swore at it. Pulling the clip free, Pal pulled the handle three times before the stuck round came free. Jamming the clip back in, Pal cocked it and fired a short burst down the hall after the terrorist leader. Running after the fleeing mercenary, Pal fired repeated bursts. He went through one full mag and 1\3rd of another before he hit him. The terrorist leader felt a slug slam into his hip and knock him down. Crushing the wounded area with his hand he tried to stop the bleeding. Pal ran up to him and covered him with the 9mm. "I like to know a man's name before I kill him." Were Pal's only words to the man that had caused the deaths of so many. "Yousef." Was the mans only answer. Behind him Pal heard the sounds of boots on the concrete floor. Keeping the terrorist covered he looked over his shoulder and saw what looked like cops, but Pal couldn't be sure. Swinging back to the terrorist Pal switched the fire selector to semi-auto by feel. "This is for Jimmy!' Pal shouted at the man and shot him in the legs. " And this is for Jody!" He screamed, shooting him in the arms. "And this is for fucking ME!" Squeezing the trigger of the 20mm, Pal didn't feel the heavy recoil at all. The carbide-tipped slug penetrated the leaders sternum and then exploded, scattering shards of burning white phosphorus inside the chest cavity. Yousef inhaled a great gulp of air and died as the spontaneous ignition of the white phosphorous with the air burned him to death from the inside out. "That'll teach you mess with me and my friends mother-fucker!" was Pal's eulogy for the dead terrorist. An instant later, the six men of the SWAT team burst into the room. Pal's only comment was: "Where the hell have you guys been?"

Chap. 18

Pal showed the team where the terrorists CP. had been and how he had disabled the explosives. The team leader congratulated him on his quick thinking. The team had rescued the rest of the hostages which were on their way to a hospital for a good once-over. Pal wouldn't allow the SWAT's to take his weapons till they were outside of the school. There Pal removed the mags from his subgun and pistol and handed them over. He then unbuckled his battle harness and handed it over. But before he did this, he unstrapped the stiletto that had saved his life several times and stuck it in is pocket. "I'm keeping this." he said. The agents allowed him that and he too was soon on his way to the hospital.

After a doctor had taped his ribs he was asked to make a short speech to the press concerning his activities inside the school. He declined. They tried to insist but the doctor with him said if they pushed the issue he would have them thrown out of the hospital. The press were constantly badgering him for an interview for weeks after the siege. But Pal would talk to no one yet. He said he needed time to sort everything out in his mind.

Time had a strange effect on Pal. He became more and more aware of the world around him. Taking in every little detail as though each day was his last. He finally consented to an interview several weeks after his defeat of his captors. He was asked he question how did he feel about the failed raids on the school? He answered with this: "A wise man once said no man has perfect actions, only perfect intentions. The failed raids were fate, not bad planning. I have learned to grab up and hold onto whatever fate gives you. Someday it may save your life." He was asked by another reporter if had taught himself combat because he had a grudge against the terrorists.

"I learned combat to survive. My grudge against my captors didn't form until they killed two of my best friends."

"Do you still bear that grudge?" was another question.

"No. When I killed the terrorist leader, my grudge was resolved."

"How could you bring yourself to kill another living being?"

" I told myself I would not survive if I was gonna be a chicken-shit about it. That's all I have to say." Walking off the podium, Pal was given a standing ovation by the press corps assembled and all the rest of the audience.

Chap. 19

A month and a half after the end of the siege Pal was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor by the President. This usually only goes to military personnel but the President figured they could make an exception. Pal was heralded as the nation's hero for weeks but after a time things settled down. Pal tried to finish school at another university, but found this impossible. He was constantly hounded by his fellow students and professors to tell what had happened inside. He left school a month after he started.

Pal found a solitary life to his liking. He bought a small house in the country and lived by himself raising a garden and a few cats. Visitors came once in awhile. Some had been hostages in the siege, others were simply well wishers. Some stopped only long enough to have cup of coffee and then left. Pal liked these occasional visitors and sometimes told them a story from the inside. How he had disabled that explosives that could've destroyed the school, or how he found Jody, or a number of tales. But he never, ever told of the day he had lost her and Jimmy. It would be a long time before he would even try.