The Yeoman: Crying Albion Series - Book 1 Read Online Free Page A

aim
properly and seemed to be spraying their gunfire. Off to his left the man he’d
injured moved further and further to the fence line. From the way he stumbled
and clutched at his right arm it looked like he’d been hit at least once. Weyland raised his G36 carbine but as he aimed the Rabian unexpectedly fell down. Slowly though the tenacious
movements of him crawling towards a van became apparent.
    Weyland knew if he pursued the man he’d a fair of catching him but if he
opened fire he’d risk the other gunmen being alerted. Then there was the
casualties being inflicted by them upon helpless civilians. A third choice
seemed to taunt at him — escape!
    His Land Rover Defender was close to try
that option, but the welcoming green machine seemed to take on the stain of
cowardice.
    With no time to dig out his cased rifle in
his vehicle he moved in towards the gunfire. By circling via the fence he managed
to completely flank the sound of battle. He was breathing well thanks to the
rivers of adrenaline cycling through him. Weyland advanced a little ways further and reached the extreme left of the ferry
quayside.

 
 
    The ferry area and
especially the parked cars was chaos, people were dead or dying. Five cars were
in flames and two more wrecked by explosions. Still the blood-lust of the
terrorists was not satisfied. There were still many survivors left and the
attack was far from over. Once they were slain, the terrorists planned to move
in against the ferry. Its ramp was still down and made for an enticing sight.
    Abu Halabi reloaded
for the fourth time, he was halfway through his ammunition panoply and feeling
righteous in his killings. His ISIS brother uttered gleeful invocations and
prayers as he fired on and on.
    “Allah Akbar, Allllaah Akbar,” he said with guttural splendour. Suddenly movement became apparent to
them. Two women, young and old went down as he sent half a magazine into them
both. They had made a break for it and now few wanted to break cover from their
vehicles, lest they become easy prey for the prowling Rabians .
As the junior leader of them saw them fall he mentally felt a rush of
excitement. Then the ferry ship’s ramp began closing and he shouted loudly in Rabian to advance on the ship.
    “Allah Ak —” his
comrade began to answer.
    The sudden break in his pattern of speaking
caused Halabi to turn, he had time to see his brother
slumping over. The terrorist shouted a warning noise before more shots rang out,
cutting down the dark-skinned man.
    The Yeoman, partly concealed from a low fold
in the ground, shot again and again with his G36. His follow-up shots
despatched Halabi , who fell dying, partly obscured by
a concrete bollard.
    Only two minutes earlier Weyland had crawled low like a frenzied leopard after choosing to take on the gunmen. After
being satisfied they were no danger he waited for the moment. With the
iron-sights he watched and saw further danger. Another Rabian emerged from their ambush position and Weyland kept
his cool. A second man followed the first. They were now less brave now on
seeing their dead comrades. It was one thing to slaughter unarmed civilians
with bullets and grenades but facing armed opponents unnerved them.
    Weyland shot the biggest one of the two with three rounds, he went down
like a sack of potatoes. The second saw the Yeoman though and fired back at him
while howling. An experienced enemy would have rushed for cover to engage in a
firefight, the last terrorist charged forwards instead. He made it ten yards
across the open ground, firing from the hip before Weyland shot him down. The Yeoman heard impacts nearby but was unharmed by the AKM’s
gunfire.
    Remembering the last terrorist who had been
running away the soldier swivelled to see a distant van racing away to the
south. Weyland shot off the last of his magazine in a
futile attempt to bring it to a halt, but the range was too great and the
carbine not up to the task. The weapon’s internal bolt