Stream of Madness Read online

  Stream of Madness

  A Code of War Stand-Alone Novel

  By Jim Roberts

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright 2015 Jim Roberts

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Disclaimer:

  This book contains scenes of extreme violence that some readers may find offensive. Reader discretion is advised.

  Due to the ongoing events in Syria and Iraq, the names of several key geographical locations have been changed or fictionalized.

  The Peacemakers take on the cruel private military known as Olympus. The battle for the Code of War has only just begun...

  Ex-Army Ranger Joe Braddock and his unit of Peacemakers take on the mysterious PMC known to the world as Olympus. The cruel Military will stop at nothing to bring down Braddock's team of elite military operators, while at the same time trying to recover the enigmatic Code of War: two discs containing immense power that somehow holds the key to Olympus's ascension...

  Praise for Olympus Rises

  Olympus reveals itself to the world. Joe Braddock and Danny Callbeck steal one half of the Code of War. All epics must have a beginning...

  "PULLS NO PUNCHES . . . exciting for fans of militaristic action!" − Adam Knight, author of Overdrive: Cowboy Ending

  "SMART, EFFECTIVELY WRITTEN . . . it's (like) G.I. Joe mixed with Die Hard" − HeroicFantasyWriters.com

  "FAST PACED SPECULATIVE FICTION . . . a worthy addition to any book lovers’ collection!" −John Reinhard Dizon, author of The Kingdom

  "THIS IS WHAT G.I. JOE MOVIES SHOULD HAVE BEEN LIKE!" − M. Joseph Murphy, author of Council of Peacocks

  "NEVER A DULL MOMENT . . . there are moments when the story is frightening in its realism!" − Ava Armstrong, author of A Sense of Duty

  Praise for The Peacemakers

  Olympus has risen. For Joe Braddock and his warrior brother, Danny Callbeck, the war with the enigmatic military known as Olympus has only begun. A globe-trotting adventure awaits those with the courage to fight...

  "I'M VERY IMPRESSED WITH THE WORK OF JIM ROBERTS...an ideal selection for a 4th of July present!" − Walter Rhein, author of The Bone Sword

  "I LOVE THIS STORY . . . Jim Roberts is an up and coming new writer!" − Ava Armstrong, author of A Sense of Duty

  "AN OVER THE TOP BLOCKBUSTER THAT WOULD MAKE MICHAEL BAY PROUD!" − M. Joseph Murphy, author of Council of Peacocks

  Author’s Note

  When I first set about writing the Code of War series two years ago, I wanted to create something grand. I had envisioned the series to be a sprawling universe, consisting of the main series and several shorter novels to enhance the world and free me up to write stories with different themes.

  Stream of Madness is the first of those books – a solo title that focuses on one character from the main series in a story where they ‘stand-alone’.

  Some readers may notice the tone of this book differs from the previous works. The stand-alone books are a chance for me to branch away from the typical grandiose style of the main series novels and try something a little different, thematically.

  I very much hope you enjoy this book as much as I did writing it.

  This book takes place between The Peacemakers and the upcoming third main book, The Vagabonds. I highly recommend reading The Peacemakers first before starting Stream of Madness.

  "The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him."

  -G.K. Chesterton

  “War is cruelty.”

  -General William Sherman

  Governorates of Syria

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: Infiltration

  Chapter 2: Scorpion

  Chapter 3: Tenderness

  Chapter 4: Objectives

  Chapter 5: Restitution

  Chapter 6: Inferno

  Chapter 7: Lost

  Chapter 8: Scourge

  Chapter 9: Horror

  Chapter 10: Hunter

  Chapter 11: Strangers

  Chapter 12: Delays

  Chapter 13: Trekking

  Chapter 14: Onslaught

  Chapter 15: Torment

  Chapter 16: Forsaken

  Chapter 17: Allegiance

  Chapter 18: Resolute

  Chapter 19: Parallel

  Chapter 20: Monster

  Chapter 21: Acquiescence

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Infiltration

  Beirut, Lebanon

  July 8th, 2015

  JOE BRADDOCK stabbed the curved Karambit knife through the brain stem of the luckless Olympus Centurion. The Peacemaker had to find just the right spot – where the bulletproof uniform met with the obsidian-black helmet – else the blade would bounce clean off and spoil the ambush. Held tight in Joe’s deathly embrace, the trooper tensed for a few brief seconds before going limp. His hand released the FN F2000 assault rifle he’d been carrying, dropping it to the deck of the container ship.

  Joe yanked the Indonesian combat blade free, wiping the blade on his thigh before sheathing it in his chest harness. Laying the body down on the deck, Joe reached under the helmet and searched with his fingers. With a sharp tug, he snapped off the radio uplink of the helmet and pulled it free. With no more use for the corpse, Joe heaved the body into the dark waters of the Port of Beirut. The sound of the splash was all but mitigated by the background noise of the busy harbor, still bustling at three-o’clock in the morning. The heavy Centurion armor would sink the hapless trooper to the bottom of the port in a matter of seconds.

  Joe made a quick check of the aft section of the container vessel. Darkness covered the deck, with only a few fluorescent lights illuminating entranceways into the vessel.

  The Port of Beirut spread out from across the bulwark of the Marlin, an Aframax scale container ship. The port was the busiest in the Eastern Mediterranean, servicing well over 2,500 vessels per year. Braddock gave the view of the massive harbor a doleful glance as he unslung his suppressed MP5 sub-machinegun. With a moment to breathe, his mind went back to yesterday’s mission briefing.

  Set up in a small room onboard the USS Dallas, a Nimitz-class aircraft carrier patrolling the Mediterranean, Braddock and his team waited to receive the mission details. The carrier was the temporary mission hub for Peacemaker operations in the Middle East. Seated in plush chairs, Joe and his team watched a large 1080i display screen uplink to ‘The Cottage’, the informal name of the Peacemaker Headquarters.

  Major Will Stanlin, temporary CO of the Peacemakers in Colonel Jackson Walsh’s absence, had performed the brief over the display. A tall, modulated man with strong shoulders and close-cropped silver hair, Stanlin cut a powerful presence, even from 6000 miles away.

  Joe’s team of hard-nosed infiltrators for this Op would be Chief Petty Officer Clive Rourke, ex-SEAL and the Peacemaker’s resident frogman. The Mohawk-sporting Navy soldier had sat resolute in his seat during the briefing, listening to all instructions with stoic attention.

  Beside Rourke was a new addition to the Unit: a recent Army transfer who went by the codename ‘Jammer’. Twenty-five, with crewcut reddish brown hair, the kid was greener than most operators in the Peacemakers. Stanlin had chosen the boy due to meritorious service in Iraq during the past year, where the kid
had distinguished himself in several violent skirmishes. There had been little time for Joe to familiarize himself with Jammer, but the kid seemed perfectly capable of handling the mission. He had a natural ‘can-do’ attitude that jived with the Peacemaker mindset.

  And finally, Jade Masters, the onetime UN Peacekeeper, now turned Peacemaker. The luminous woman had served as Walsh’s personal adjunct over the past months. The Colonel was still in the process of smoothing things over with the UN for Jade’s new position within the Peacemakers. For the time being, she was acting as chief intelligence analyst for this mission, with a small contingent of technicians and support personnel providing assistance.

  When all members of the team had settled, the Major had begun the brief.

  “OK folks, pay attention,” Stanlin had said in his harsh Midwestern accent, “Two days ago, our friends in CIA informed us of a large shipment of drone technology and military grade ordnance coming in to Beirut from Libya. Reports also tell us this shipment is bought and paid for by our friends in Olympus and destined for Syria to help President Bashar al-Assad’s civil war. Olympus presence is currently non-existent in Lebanon, but they are in full force in Syria, fighting under President al-Assad’s regime. The situation in Syria is all kinds of FUBAR, but the enemies of our enemies are not our friends in this case. By all accounts, Olympus is ready to fold its contract in Syria, due to massive losses against ISIL. We need to hasten their withdrawal.”

  Joe knew the story well. Ever since the Zimbala operation, he’d bounced across hot zone after hot zone in an endless attempt to curtail Olympus activities. The PMC’s credibility had been hurt within developed nations, but there were still Third World countries desperate for aid from a powerful, high-tech military.

  Stanlin continued with the briefing, “Braddock, you and your team need to destroy that shipment before it can offload its cargo. The ship is scheduled to arrive tomorrow at 0100 hours. To soften political damage from the Lebanese, we need this to look like an accident. Insertion will be via helicopter. You’ll be dropped five miles from the port, along with an inflatable CRRC. Approach to within 500 meters, then Braddock and Jammer will SCUBA the rest of the way as Rourke stays with the motorboat. The port is lightly guarded and there are no security measures in place for an underwater infiltration. When you reach the ship, you’ll need to climb up the aft section. From there, you’ll place four separate satchel charges on the Olympus containers. When you are clear of the boat, Sergeant Braddock will remote detonate them. The explosions should cripple the vessel, but do little damage to civilians in the port itself. Intel says the boat has moderate security measures. Take all precautions necessary.”

  Something darkened Stanlin’s mood. “We have also received reports that an Olympus Lord may be present on the ship, overseeing the transport. You are not to engage him or her if this is true. Stealth is of primary importance on this Op. The explosions will most likely take care of the Lord too. Do you understand, Sergeant Braddock?”

  Stanlin had singled Joe out especially. He nodded his reply. “Yes, Major.”

  “Good. Questions?”

  Joe had a rather important one. “Escape and evasion plan, sir?”

  “Once you’re clear of the ship, SCUBA back towards Rourke’s position. Head to the coordinates on your OpTabs for pickup via Black Hawk. There will be utter chaos after the explosions go off, so escaping the port will not be difficult.”

  Almost twenty-two hours after that briefing, Joe still thought it was an insane plan. He hadn’t raised his concerns with Stanlin. Joe knew the acting CO wouldn’t have given two shits for his opinion. Nothing that Braddock did pleased the hard-ass Major. But to the man’s credit, the plan had so far gone off without a hitch. The Black Hawk helicopter had planted Joe, Rourke and Jammer exactly four miles out from the Port of Beirut in the pitch black of night. There was no moon, so their approach had been drenched in murky darkness. After reaching the designated 500 meter distance, Braddock and Jammer slipped into the water and made the trek towards the Port of Beirut.

  Thirty minutes later, with one dead Centurion sinking to the harbor floor, Joe was now alone on the stern of the ship; his suppressed MP5 sub-machinegun in hand. He pressed his hand to his earlobe and activated the secure radio comlink hidden in his ear canal.

  “Alright, Jammer. The stern is secure. Get up here, over.”

  “Copy Sergeant. On my way, out.”

  They were on the clock. Joe knew the Centurions made checks with each other every ten minutes. A communication problem would be viewed with extreme caution and would certainly raise an alarm. With practised ease, Joe took the Centurion’s radio uplink and did a quick re-wiring of its circuitry. When finished, Joe raised the uplink to his ear and listened.

  “Epsilon Centurion Two-One, report?” a voice on the other end said.

  “This is Two One, all clear.” Came the answering reply.

  “Copy that. Epsilon Centurion Two-Five, report?”

  There was no return.

  “Centurion Two-Five, report now!”

  That was the man Joe had capped. Joe spoke into the mouthpiece of the communicator.

  “This is Two-Five, sounding all clear.”

  “Wake up, Two-Five. Keep an eye out. We don’t want any trouble tonight.”

  Joe smiled.

  Trouble.

  Right.

  JAMMER REACHED the outer side of the bulkhead just as Joe finished his quick reply to the voice on the Olympus security channel. He would have to keep the communicator near if he was to catch the next security check.

  Joe gave Jammer a hand in clearing the bulkhead. The kid looked winded from the combined swimming and climbing.

  “You okay kid?” Joe asked.

  “Fine, Sergeant. What’s the sitrep?”

  “One tango down and out. I’ve got an uplink to the Olympus security channel. We’ll hear first if anything goes south. You ready to light this sucker up?”

  Jammer tapped the satchel strapped to his harness. “Ready and willing.”

  “Good,” Joe said, “You know what to do. Make your way into the cargo area. Avoid confrontation at all costs. You know the positions for where the satchels are to be placed. Anything else, Masters will keep us updated.”

  Jammer nodded. The kid was young, but Joe knew from his record this was far from his first time in the shit. “To make the peace, sometimes we need to make some noise. Just be sure that when these charges go boom, you’re listening to the music somewhere else.”

  “Hooah, Sarge.”

  “Alright. Let’s get to it.”

  Jammer clasped his own MP5 and took off around the command deck. There were two flights of stairs on the outside of the ship that led into the cargo hold. Joe was to take the starboard side, and Jammer the port side. Keeping low, with the MP5 held at the ready, Joe moved to the stairs and descended into the belly of the ship.

  THE INFILTATION had gone splendidly so far. Jade kept Joe and his partner apprised of the ship’s security as the Peacemaker made his way down the stairs and into the bowels of its hold. The ship’s cargo area was packed full of massive containers, with various serial numbers stencilled on their exteriors. In order for the ploy to work, the C4 satchels had to be positioned on the containers carrying ammunition and weapons. That way, the Beirut authorities would automatically make the assumption that an accident had caused an explosion with the illegal cargo. The blame would be placed on whoever it was that had shipped them – in this case, Olympus.

  The cargo hold had almost no artificial lighting. Several florescent bulbs encased in metal cages were the hold’s only source of illumination. Joe melted into the darkness, his specially designed stealth/scuba suit making him no more than a shadow among shadows.

  “Joe,” Jade’s voice said over the comm, “The drone is showing increased security on the aft section of the ship, over.”

  Braddock paused his movement and lifted the Centurion radio to his ear. The security chatter was light and d
ivulged no danger of their cover being blown. He whispered into the comlink to his adjunct on board the Dallas. “The lines are quiet. Could be just a routine security check.”

  “They aren’t dumb, Joe,” Jade said, “They’ll find out that man is missing. Hurry up and set those charges.”

  Joe signed off and picked up the pace. As he searched the serial numbers on the containers, he keyed the comlink again, “Jammer, do you read?”

  “Copy, over?” The rookie replied, his voice hushed.

  “Security’s getting antsy. Get the satchels placed, ASAP, over.”

  “Copy, sarge. One down, one to go, over.”

  “Good. Signal me when you’re finished. Keep an eye out for hostiles on your way back up.”

  It took another two minutes of searching before Joe finally found the container box labelled CV121411, the exact number listed as the first of Joe’s targets. He quickly unpacked the C4 charge. Activating it, he stuck the brick of plastic explosive at the bottom of the container. The darkness would conceal the device from prying eyes, at least for as long as it took to escape the ship.

  With one last explosive to set, Joe clicked his comlink. “Jammer, what’s your sitrep?”

  “All explosive’s placed, Sergeant.”

  “Good. Rendezvous with me behind the starboard stairs.”

  There was a moment of silence before Jammer responded, “Sarge?”