Chapter 9
Brad held the door closed, his ear to the jam. He moved his body to the side, half expecting a bullet to shatter the living room window and tear through the door, but the ripping damage of a bullet never came. Luckily, the intruders didn't see the kitchen door close in the sweep of the flashlight. Brad flipped his night vision goggles back down and plainly saw Susan and Recon at the back door, their heads turned to the sound of his footsteps in the hollow blackness of the room.
He shouldered the crossbow strap as he quickly went to the back door and viewed the short distance of field between the house and forest through the door window. He picked up no heat signatures, but knew that armed men would soon surround the house. He opened the door slowly, just enough for Recon to slip out. "Recon. Check." He said softly as the dog went through the cracked door.
A moment passed before Brad took Susan by the hand and led her out the door. Ambient light from the stars allowed her to discern Brad's silhouette in the darkness.
From the far right corner at the rear of the house, Brad heard Recon give a short, quiet growl. Brad pointed to Susan and then pointed to the forest line. He repeated the gesture again. He wanted her to run for the woods. She turned and moved quickly as Brad spun around towards the sound of Recon, the crossbow swinging from his shoulder and a bolt being pulled in place, ready to fire. Brad whispered for Recon to come. As Recon moved towards Brad, a man came around the corner of the house, moving stealthily as possible. A pistol in his hand. In the darkness the man saw the movement of Recon, but didn't know what it was. It was a dark shadow of movement in the night lost to even the starlight . He quickly raised his weapon, looking for the movement again.
Brad pulled the trigger. The only sound was the twang of the bolt leaving the crossbow and the wet smack as it went through the man's throat and severed his spine. The man silently dropped to his knees and fell over sideways.
Brad ran over to him and started rifling through his pockets quickly, looking for a wallet or anything that would identify who these people were.
A voice crackled through the receiver on the dead man's chest. In almost a whisper a voice said, "Alpha Five, contact when you are in position. If they come out the back, waste the hippie. He's becoming a pain in the ass. This should be a simple grab. Do what you have too to subdue the chick, but don't kill her. She has to be delivered alive." The voice paused. "Alpha five, do you copy? Over."
Alpha 5 stared at the sky with unseeing eyes as Brad searched his pockets, and would never respond to the message. Brad found nothing.
"Alpha four." The same voice said with an edge of urgency. "Alpha five does not answer. Check it out now! Move! Move!" Alpha three. Give four backup. Move out, now!"
Brad turned the man on his side and quickly snapped the radio off his belt and the receiver from his chest
He turned to the forest and could see Susan's heat register in the tree line. Shoving the man's weapon into his belt and the radio in his pocket, he rushed towards her glow in the eerie light of a green world that night vision goggles create.
To the naked eye, the hundred feet of grassy field was a shade lighter of black than the hidden darkness below the canopy of trees at its perimeter. Brad's movement across the field was discernible, but barely. Susan could make out the figure running in her direction.
She didn't notice the man who came around the other side of the house. The first shot cracked through the silent night, making her jump.
Brad heard the bullet smack the dirt next to him. With the second report of the gun, Susan was looking towards the house and saw the muzzle flash. She glance over to Brad and could see his feet literally fly out from under him as he hit the ground hard. She quickly raised the semi-automatic, pointing it and the flashlight in the direction of the gun fire, and turned the lamp on. The man was wearing night goggles. Susan could see that the man was taking more careful aim at Brad, preparing for a third shot when Susan caught him in the beam of light. The man threw his hand up to the goggle lens, blinded as if a flashbulb had just gone off in his face. Susan fired three shots. With the first shot the man staggered against the wall of the house and looked down at his chest, then back up, raising his gun in Susan's direction he fired off one quick shot, the bullet ripping the air passed her ear, sounding like a supersonic mosquito. He jerked with her second shot, and with the third, his arm slumped, the gun dropped and he fell to the ground.
Susan ran to where she though she saw Brad fall, but he was not there. She spun quickly to find the large shape of a man directly behind her. She let out a short scream as she raised the gun.
"Hold on, there, Annie Oakley. It's me." Brad said as he pushed the barrel of the gun aside.
"Damn it, Brad. " she said angrily, punching him in the arm. "Don't do that."
Then she started touching him, running her hands over his arms, chest and face. "Are you all right?" she asked with worry. "I thought you were shot."
"That guy blew the heel off my boot. The impact knocked my foot out from under me and I hit the dirt."
"So, you're okay." she said impatiently.
"Hell, no." he said indignantly. "These are my best pair of boots. Not to mention it knocked the wind out of me when I hit the ground."
"What? What kind of Special Forces guy are you, anyway?" She asked in a tone of disbelief.
"A retired one. One that now shoos flies out of the house. I'm very peaceful."
Susan glanced down at the corner of the house where the man lay with a crossbow bolt sticking out of his neck. "Yeah." she said, "I can see that."
A bullet smacked into a redwood tree at the tree line just feet from where they stood. They turned in unison and ran into the darkness and cover of the forest. Brad grabbed Susan's hand as they entered the invisible maze of trees in the pitch black created by the canopy. He ran another forty feet before stopping, spinning and crouching, the .45 held in a two handed grip. He surveyed the area through the goggles and saw no pursuers.
"Team leader." he heard a voice say from the receiver in his pocket. He pulled it out and listened. "This is Alpha 3. Alpha 4 and Alpha 5 are dead."
"What?" The voice came back loud. "These assholes have weapons!!?"
"What's your orders, Sir." Alpha 3 asked after a long pause of static.
"Shut-up. I'm thinking." came the response, then another long pause.
"Shit. I just can't believe this." The team leader said over the air wave in frustration. "This should have been a simple termination and extraction.
"Alpha 6. Do you copy? Over." the team leader said after another pause.
"Affirmative." Another voice said.
"Bring the van in. It doesn't matter now. They're probably half way into the mountains. Park it in front of the barn and let's clean up before we leave. No evidence left. Is that understood? Respond in order."
Brad listened as the three men still alive responded.
"I want to see if I can get a plate number off of their van." Brad said softly to Susan. He handed her the goggles. "I'm going to go down behind the barn and sneak around to the side. I don't think they will expect me to come back. Cover me."
Susan grabbed his forearm. "That sounds kind of Rambo. Wouldn't logic and common sense say that we should run as deep and as far into these woods as we can?"
He was silent for a moment, as if he was thinking it over, which she could not see in the darkness.
From the silhouette in front of her came the response. "Yes, that does seem the logical thing to do, doesn't it." He handed her the goggles. "I'll be right back. Don't let anybody shoot me."
All content - poems, posts & images - are ©2010 by John Evans. No permission is given to post, share, copy, print, e-mail, reproduce, distribute or link to. All Rights Reserved. Please contact John Evans at JohnEvansPoet.Com for licensing inquiries.
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