Judgment at Alcatraz by Dave Edlund (carter reed .txt) 📕

the three police officers, each wrapped in a blanket, below deck, where they would be relatively safe and out of the way. A chief petty officer scrambled to climb the ladder to the pilot house, fearing the worst.

Gunfire erupted again. But this time, single shots, and the report was distant and not so loud. Leonard took advantage of the nearly stationary gunners on the bow of the boat. He fired, and the shot narrowly missed a Coastie standing behind one of the Browning machine guns. The close miss spurred her to return fire, but she didn’t know where the rifle shots were coming from, and so aimed at the approximate spot the rocket had been fired from.

Bullets impacted the rubble pile at the edge of the parade ground, ten yards above Leonard. He adjusted his aim and slowly applied pressure to the Barrett’s trigger.

Boom!

As Leonard recovered from the recoil, he saw the bullet strike the Coast Guard gunner. Her body fell backwards onto the steel deck plates. He observed her through the scope for a moment longer, and failing to see any movement, concluded she was dead.

The other gunner unleashed a torrent of lead into the rubble pile. Leonard moved his aim and fired. The gunner fell to the side as if his legs were pulled out from under him. He writhed, clutching his thigh where the bullet had passed through thick muscle.

With the machine guns silenced, Charlie again took careful aim with the Folgore ranging and sighting system. Satisfied, he pressed the firing button, and a rocket streaked forward and slammed into the super structure directly behind the port machine gun. He used the five-power sight magnification to assess the damage from his two hits. Two large holes were evident in the super structure, and the pilothouse looked to be in ruins.

The cutter turned hard to port to escape the rocket fire. With half her crew dead or wounded, and a severely damaged bridge, she was out of the fight.

Charlie loaded and aimed. The boat was just coming around, offering a broadside shot. The perfect setup, and he fired.

The rocket raced forward in a shallow arc. It impacted the hull three seconds later, amidships and just above the water line. A near-perfect shot. The five-kilogram high-explosive warhead blasted a gaping hole in the thin steel hull. A geyser of water shot up and away from the explosion. Cold bay water was pouring in, even before the spray settled.

Chapter 16

White smoke from the rockets was drifting above Charlie’s firing position on the edge of the parade grounds. Danya scrambled up the slope, shielded from Leonard’s view by the thicket of trees and bushes surrounding him.

As she cleared the lip of earth and landed on the parade grounds, she realized the rocket launcher was at the southern-most edge, fortified by a large pile of broken concrete and scattered rocks. As she approached, another rocket was fired. She gazed across the water in time to see the warhead explode upon the side of the cutter, at the waterline. The Coast Guard cutter had taken a beating, but at least for now it was still afloat.

Danya cautiously rounded the nearest rubble pile. As she cleared the mound of debris, she spotted Charlie kneeling with the Folgore above his right shoulder. He was so focused on aiming, that he didn’t notice her approaching.

She recognized his concentration for what it was, and knew he was about to fire the weapon again. The cutter was a sitting duck. She had to interrupt the shot.

Danya wrapped her hand around an apple-sized chunk of concrete, and heaved it.

The concrete struck Charlie on the back of his shoulder just as he pressed the trigger. His body jerked to the side, sending the eighty-millimeter high-explosive warhead off on an errant trajectory. It exploded on the water, fifty yards off the stern of the retreating cutter.

Stunned, Charlie turned on his attacker. He managed to rise to his feet just as she slammed into him, her arms out and shoulder down for the tackle. Although she was half of Charlie’s weight, her mass and speed were sufficient to drive him backwards, knocking the Folgore off its stand. He was pushed back two paces before his heel stopped against a large stone at the base of the rubble pile. With his feet stuck, momentum carried him onto his back, and he slammed against the concrete and rock scree. Her shoulder drove the air from his lungs with an umpf! She pushed back, trying to separate from the giant, but was locked in placed, pinned to his chest with his arm. Then, with his free hand, he punched the side of her face. She shook it off and punched him, but the strike was weak. She swung again, but couldn’t get enough freedom of movement to land her fist with force.

As long as Charlie held her tight, she had no leverage to trade blows. He pummeled his fist into her head and face again. Her vision blurred for a second, before clearing. She had to break his grip before he pounded her unconscious.

She latched her fingers onto a piece of concrete, but it was too heavy to move.

Wham! The blow connected with her temple, causing her vision to go black and her strength to ebb. She shook her head and blinked.

His fist landed again, high on her cheekbone, and starbursts of multicolored lights danced across her blackened vision. A few more blows like that, and it would be all over. She kept feeling with her right hand for something hard and heavy, passing over chunks that were too large, or simply immobile.

Anticipating another strike, she turned her head to the right just before Charlie’s meaty fist connected with the back of her skull. She thought she heard the crack of knuckles on bone. Her head hurt like hell, but it wasn’t debilitating like the strikes to her temple and face.

Then she wrapped her hand around a chunk of rubble that filled her grip.