Strategic Assets (Maelstrom Rising Book 4)
NO SAFE PLACE
The Polish cop scuttled over to us, dragging his PM-98 submachinegun around to point it down the street. He almost pointed it at Scott’s back; he was still rattled, and I saw with a glance that he had his partner’s blood spattered across his face. I grabbed his muzzle and forced it down, just as the terrorist behind the Lada popped out and fired at us, the muzzle blast kicking up a bit of snow as bullets smacked into the van above our heads.
Scott opened fire right then, but I couldn’t look. I shoved the Polish cop farther behind the box truck to get him some cover, while I dropped flat behind the rear tire, punching my pistol out with both hands, finding the sights and letting my breath out with a cloud of steam. The terrorist was only showing his head and a bit of his shoulders.
There was enough glare coming off the snow that I had to squint one eye. The PR-15’s initial double-action trigger pull felt like it weighed a hundred pounds as I dragged the trigger back, concentrating on keeping my press even and crisp, forcing myself not to rush the shot.
The bad guy had leaned out some more, pivoting to turn his AK toward the sound of Scott’s fire. I shifted to follow, then the trigger broke, the 9mm sounding like a pop compared to the rattle of AK and RPK fire. His head jerked back and he flopped, bouncing off the Lada’s trunk and hitting the snowy pavement with limp finality.
STRATEGIC ASSETS
MAELSTROM RISING BOOK 4
Peter Nealen
This is a work of fiction. Characters and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Some real locations are used fictitiously, others are entirely fictional. This book is not autobiographical. It is not a true story presented as fiction. It is more exciting than anything 99% of real gunfighters ever experience.
Copyright 2020 Peter Nealen
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, to include, but not exclusive to, audio or visual recordings of any description without permission from the author.
Maelstrom Rising is a trademark of Peter Nealen. All rights reserved.
Printed in the United States of America
http://americanpraetorians.com
Prologue
Violent Divisions Grow Sharper Across the US
In the aftermath of the mass blackouts and terrorist attacks that all but paralyzed the United States in the early fall, a divide that has lain beneath the surface for years has become all the more bitter and pronounced. States have locked down their points of entry, some using the National Guard, some using a combination of law enforcement, National Guard, and private military companies. Many cities have become sharply divided by area, some neighborhoods becoming veritable fortresses controlled by local groups, which now go openly armed. The right-wing organization calling itself The Triarii has taken control of several Midwestern and Western cities, as well as major supply chains. In the meantime, considerable portions of the Northeast and West Coast appear to be all but completely under the de facto control of the left-wing People’s Revolutionary Action. PRA spokesperson Shirley Wang stated yesterday, “The fascists and racists who have exploited this tragedy are on the move. We have no choice but to act decisively, to stop them by any means necessary. The racist, xenophobic defenders of a corrupt system must be stamped out across the country.”
Food Shortages and Plunging Temperatures Threaten a Wounded United States
While certain parts of “flyover country” have stabilized quickly in the aftermath of what appears to have been the single biggest, most audacious terror attack in history, much of the country is still facing a hard winter. Supply chains have been all but destroyed, and while armed and escorted convoys are starting to push food into the worst-affected urban areas, the supply is far, far less than the demand. Power still has not been fully restored in several major metropolitan areas, in part due to continuing violence. Hunger is starting to become a serious problem in many places, far worse than the escalating instability and crime. Worse, forecasts are calling for a harsh winter in the Northeast. Reports are already coming in that elderly people are freezing to death in Upstate New York, as an early cold front moved in over the last two weeks.
An Abrupt Shift in Middle East Violence
Despite every indication that the main Iranian push into Saudi Arabia was going to come via the Iraqi border, the stalemate north of King Khalid Military City continues. Rumors point to possible Saudi chemical weapons being the deterrent that is keeping the combined Iranian/Iraqi forces at bay, though other analysts point to continuing Iraqi unrest aimed at the Iranian occupiers. In the meantime, however, Iranian forces have reportedly seized a foothold in the United Arab Emirates, and have landed tanks and missile artillery aimed directly at Riyadh. Whether Iran has managed to land enough strength to take the Saudi capitol remains to be seen…
North Korean Missile Tests Increase Tensions
North Korean missiles passed over the JS Izumo task force in the Sea of Japan last night, leading to an elevated alert for all Japanese Self Defense Force units. Reports of North Korean commando raids across the DMZ are still uncorroborated. The Japanese Joint Staff reportedly met with Prime Minister Himura in the early hours of the morning, but while it has been suggested that the Maritime Self Defense Force might shift its operations north to counter the new North Korean activity, so far no redeployments have been observed. There is speculation in some analytical circles that the North Korean move was instigated by Beijing, in an attempt to draw the Japanese Maritime Self Defense Force north and away from the East China Sea. Beijing has issued no statement.
Escalation in the Philippines
Following the recent advances made by Filipino security forces against what are believed to be Chinese proxies on Palawan, and the crackdowns on armed groups on the islands of Luzon and Leyte, a renewed wave of violence hit Mindanao on Tuesday. The Moro Ikhwan, a more violent and radical offshoot of the Moro Islamic Liberation Front, claimed responsibility for the bombings in Davao City, Zamboanga City, and Valencia. Our military analysts say that the attacks showed a considerable degree of sophistication. Multiple explosive devices and diversionary small arms attacks hit several schools and markets at about midday. Follow-on suicide bombings appear to have been directed at first responders. The subsequent wave of drone attacks is believed by some analysts to point to Chinese support being funneled to the Moro Ikhwan, though no direct link has yet been identified.
Cease Fire Reached Between India and China
Following weeks of negotiations, New Delhi and Beijing have reached a cease-fire agreement, temporarily ending hostilities on the Doklam Plateau. Chinese and Indian troops have been stalemated on the Plateau since the fall, when Chinese troops attacked the Indian border guards and secured a foothold almost twenty kilometers into the disputed territory. Their initial success was tempered when bad weather moved in, halting any further advance. Our own Colonel Robert May has suggested that the cease fire is almost entirely a matter of cynical opportunism on the Chinese’ part, as the weather has kept most of their forces from moving, and they have faced pressures elsewhere. “They haven’t actually moved their troops back. Oh, they’ve crossed back over the border, but they’re still sitting there. I think they’re going to let the Pakistanis handle more of the pressure for a while.”
A New Cartel Seizes Power
While information coming out of Mexico has been spotty and unreliable for some time, the rumors about the Xolotl Cartel appear to be true. The shadowy organization wiped out the current leadership of the Abarco-Cruz Cartel, a breakaway splinter from the Sinaloa Cartel, in a singl
e night, displaying the severed heads of Miguel Abarco-Cruz and his family on the steps of their mansion. They have currently taken the port of Lazaro-Cardenas by storm, and now hold it by force of arms. In scenes eerily reminiscent of the similar cartel seizures of Culiacan, Veracruz, Jalisco, Hermosillo, and Oaxaca, armed and masked men, backed up by heavily armored and armed paramilitary vehicles, are to be seen on every street corner. The cartel’s leader, who has never shown his face and is known only as Tlamacazqui, which means “priest” in Nahuatl, has announced that the cartel will now control all commerce in Michoacán, and that any who oppose them will wish that they died as quickly as the Abarco-Cruz family. Rumors of Xolotl cells scattered throughout the country remain uncorroborated.
Continued Silence from Within Slovakia
It has now been almost four months since the government in Bratislava shut Slovakia off from the internet. Those few journalists granted permission to work and report from within the country are strictly censored by French or German European Defense Corps officers. They have been painting an almost universal picture of a wounded country being slowly rebuilt and brought back to stability. However, what few leaks have come out from local sources present a different side to the story. Photos of continued demonstrations in most major cities have emerged in recent days, though European Defense Council spokespeople have denounced the leaks as fraudulent. More photos and cell phone videos show fires and damaged buildings in the wake of bombings aimed at Loyalist and EDC security forces. Even worse are reports of targeted killings aimed at suspected Nationalists and their sympathizers. If the reports of indiscriminate violence aimed at Nationalist strongholds before the EDC’s intervention last year are accurate, reports seem to indicate that they have continued, if not accelerated.
All Quiet on the European Front
It has been over two months since the battle for Gdansk in Poland, and so far, the northern European affair seems to have stalemated. French and German forces, who abandoned Gdansk to Polish nationalist forces eight weeks ago, have maintained their positions on the German side of the border. In the meantime, Russian forces have continued to assert their presence in the Baltic Sea. There have been several close encounters between Russian Baltic Fleet units and NATO units over the past few weeks, fortunately defused by quick and measured reactions by NATO fleet commanders.
Unrest Grows in Ukraine
The new regime in Kiev was greeted with widespread approval right after the coup less than a year ago. This was largely due to the loss of life incurred by the European Defense Council-ordered operation to capture Kyrylo Stasiuk. But the heavy-handed actions taken against certain labor leaders and the regime’s lockstep collaboration with Moscow has led to renewed demonstrations in recent days. Analysts believe that a shortage of fuel oil has further contributed to Ukrainians’ discontent, as the early winter weather has been particularly harsh.
Trouble in the Aegean
Violence broke out between Greek paramilitary groups and the Turkish enclaves in Alexandropoli and Komotini yesterday. Demonstrators have been marching in both cities for weeks, calling for justice for the killing of a dozen Greek youths by Turkish “police” units in the Komotini enclave. The Greek government does not recognize the Turkish police units, but the Turks refuse to allow Greek police into the enclaves. So far, they have been backed by Turkish military demonstrations just off the coast whenever the Greeks have attempted to move into the enclaves. The current demonstrations have not deterred the paramilitaries, however. The enclaves are mostly made up of Turks, Syrians, Iraqis, Iranians, and Kosovars, who have crossed the border under Turkish military protection.
Chapter 1
We were only about half a block away from Saint Augustine’s Church when the explosion shattered the morning calm.
I saw the ugly black cloud of dust, smoke, and debris billow out from around the corner a fraction of a second before the ground shook with the tooth-rattling boom. Scott and I dove between a van and a box truck, getting into the questionable cover of a crooked brick wall that bordered the narrow lawn on the side of the street. I glanced up at the clear, cold, blue sky, scanning between the barren branches above for fast movers. My hand had instinctively moved for the pistol under my jacket, even though there wasn’t a blessed thing I could do with it if the EDC was bombing Wroclaw.
The sky was clear, though, and no more explosions followed that first big one. Instead, gunfire rattled down the street near the church, and yells and screams split the morning air as the smoke rose higher in the sky.
Scott and I looked at each other for a second before we both drew our weapons. I pulled the radio out of my back pocket.
“Chatty, Deacon,” I called. “Contact at St. Augustine’s. Meet us a block southeast of the church. Bring everything, and contact the Policja to let them know we’re coming in!”
“Roger,” Tony Barnhart replied. There was a pause, presumably while he checked the map. “Five mikes.”
Scott cursed under his breath. “A lot can go wrong in five minutes,” he muttered. He was faced down the street, his PR-15 9mm held at the low ready. His gloves were almost too thick for the Polish pistol—we hadn’t had pistols when we’d gotten to Poland, months before, so we’d wrangled a few out of the locals—but Scott had never liked the cold. He’d always claimed it was because he was Asian, to which I’d always countered that Japan got some pretty cold winters, too.
“Nothing for it,” I replied, my breath smoking. “We’re not exactly down here to play react force, and I’m not all that keen on running in there with only two of us with pistols.”
The fact of the matter was, we were in Wroclaw for some R&R. I’d have been fine with staying up north, in Gdansk, but Hartrick had insisted. He’d had some idea that I would have been looking for a mission if we’d stayed up there.
I had no idea where he got that idea. It wasn’t as if I’d been prowling around the TOC for days, showing up early for every intel brief every time the Germans or the Russians so much as twitched for three weeks straight.
Okay, maybe that’s exactly what I’d been doing, regardless of the fact that I was still recovering from getting the last of the grenade fragments pulled out of my leg, and Jordan had needed two surgeries on the gunshot wound in his arm. I think Hartrick sent us south just to get me out of his hair for a while.
It had been the nicest day in weeks, so Scott and I had decided to walk the streets after breakfast. I couldn’t say that I’d enjoyed big cities in a long time, but any fresh air was welcome after being cooped up for days under the snowstorm that had hammered Poland recently. It had kept the hostile activity down, but there’s only so long you want to be cooped up in a hotel suite with seven other dudes before you start to go crazy. It had just so happened that we’d gone out just in time to run into another terrorist attack.
Whooping European sirens were starting to blare across the city. The Policja were responding quickly. No big surprise; they’d had plenty of practice since the EDC had turned their baleful eye toward Poland.
Those bastards had shown no compunction about using terrorists as proxies and distractions.
Another siren started closing in on us from behind. I turned, peering past a parked van on the street, and spotted the flashing blue lights in a moment as the blue-and-white Polish police car raced toward us.
Keeping my weapon pointed at the snow-covered sidewalk, I stepped out into the street and raised a hand. I really, really didn’t want to have the Polish cops get right on top of us before they noticed two guys with pistols out, barely a block from an ongoing firefight with terrorists.
The Policja car started to slow as the two Polish cops saw me. A hand was raised in acknowledgement in the windshield.
Then a burst of machinegun fire ripped down the street just over my shoulder, smashing into the cop car’s windshield with a series of hammering reports, shattering glass and spattering red against the suddenly clouded window.
I hit the street hard, rolling out
of the line of fire behind the box truck. The Policja car skidded as the driver stomped on the brake, the back end breaking free on the ice and snow that was still packed on the street. It hit the back corner of the parked van with a loud bang that wasn’t quite drowned out by another long burst of machinegun fire that thundered down the street.
The van lurched forward under the impact, and I had to scramble to get out of the way before I got crushed between it and the box truck. Scott grabbed me by the jacket and hauled me back up onto the sidewalk before I got pinched.
I heard a door open behind me, and what sounded like a lot of cursing in Polish. But then the bad guys were coming into view and there was no time for screwing around.
The first of them came into view across the street, dashing behind a parked Lada. He was short and bundled up, wearing a thick, puffy jacket and a dark balaclava, carrying what looked like an AK. I started to track in on him, but he disappeared behind the car.
I almost shot at him anyway; cars don’t make good cover. But I only had a 9mm and about fifty-one rounds. Until Tony and the rest got to us with our long guns and gear, I needed to make every shot count.
The Polish cop scuttled over to us, dragging his PM-98 submachinegun around to point it down the street. He almost pointed it at Scott’s back; he was still rattled, and I saw with a glance that he had his partner’s blood spattered across his face. I grabbed his muzzle and forced it down, just as the terrorist behind the Lada popped out and fired at us, the muzzle blast kicking up a bit of snow as bullets smacked into the van above our heads.
Scott opened fire right then, but I couldn’t look. I shoved the Polish cop farther behind the box truck to get him some cover, while I dropped flat behind the rear tire, punching my pistol out with both hands, finding the sights and letting my breath out with a cloud of steam. The terrorist was only showing his head and a bit of his shoulders.