Only the Dead Live Forever Read Online Free PDF Page B

checklist when he
prepped for a mission. He went through his checklist, physically touching each
item. He tightened all of his loose straps and checked to make sure his spare
magazines were loaded and snapped in place. His fighting knife was hanging just
below his left shoulder, with the handle down. A tourniquet was on his right
shoulder, a first aid pouch on his belt. He wore his M9 on his hip, and the
holster held two spare magazines.
    Brad finished
his prep work, drank down an entire bottle of water (never knowing when the
next chance to hydrate would come), then relieved himself into the empty bottle
and tossed it into a trash can. He was ready to go, so he made his way to Sean
and Brooks and leaned against the wall. Sean pulled four small cardboard boxes
of 5.56 NATO rounds from his backpack and tossed them to Swanson.
    “Load these up,
Corporal; you may need them,” Sean said.
    He then turned
and faced the group. “We’re going to move out in two groups. Brooks, Brad, and
I will push forward on the assault team. I want you three to wait until we make
the first landing, then move in behind us as support. I want separation in the
teams. Only one team at a time on a floor or in a ladder well. We will assault
forward; you three will lag back and be prepared to reinforce us if we need to
fall back in a hurry or get blocked. Corporal, you are in charge of the support
team. Any questions?”
    “So we’re
supposed to just stand around in the hallway and wait for you to do something?”
Mr. Douglas asked.
    “Sir, I would
recommend you get into defensive positions at every stop. Odds are, if we fall
back, we’ll be moving in a hurry. Just please try very hard not to shoot us,”
Sean answered.
    Captain Bradley
moved towards the door and unholstered his M9. “Okay Chief, let’s get this over
with.”
    Sean looked at
Brooks and signaled for him to move out. Brooks slowly opened the door,
clearing everything in his vision as it slowly revealed the interior of the
hallway. Brad moved forward and took a position inside the hallway and on the
left wall. Brooks moved a step ahead and took the right wall, with Sean holding
the center of the hallway.
    With the door
now fully open and the light of the lounge bleeding into the hall, they knelt
down and listened for any movement. The hallway was as they had left it,
covered with trash and bodies and stinking of death. The assault team moved
forward and stacked up on the first office door. Swanson’s support team stepped
to the lounge’s doorframe and took a knee to watch Sean’s team work.
    Even though the
first floor offices had been cleared the day before, they were cautious and had
decided beforehand that they would do a one hundred percent sweep of
everything. The assault group would clear the room and push forward, while the
support team would occupy their previous position to make sure nothing got past
them. Slowly they cleared the first floor and stacked on the ladder well at the
end of the hall.
    Brooks cracked a
chemical light and dropped it at the base of the stairs. None of the support
team wore night vision, and he didn’t want them to get spooked and pop off a
round in the dark. Brooks waited for Sean and Brad to stack behind him. A
single tap on his shoulder indicated they were ready, so he crept up the dark
stairs. His night vision goggles painted the space a creepy digital green. He
paused often to listen for movement, but all he could hear was the creaking of
the metal structure and the storm blowing outside.
    He reached the
top and looked down the long, dark corridor. It looked the same as they had
left it; the dismembered Marine still lay in the center of the hallway. The
stack of primal bodies was still piled in front of the open office door. He
slowly led them forward, trying to be quiet, although their boots slipped and squeaked
on the sticky, blood-covered floor; occasionally  they kicked spent brass and
heard the clinking of metal on metal.
    Again