"Dead."
"Fuck!"
I look down to find a badly mangled leg.Blood has saturated the flight suit.I can't tell if it's an artery or a vein.
I speak softly to her while I take my knife and cut the fabric off."It's pretty bad, Easy Mama, but it's only a flesh wound.You'll live, but you can't move it."
Our eyes briefly connect as I unzip my flight suit and pull my arms out, letting it hang off my ass as I pull my t-shirt off.Both of us know that means she's a target.I make a command decision.
"Call it in and lay low.I'm going after the motherfucker.Shoot anyone who isn't wearing an American uniform.That's an order."
Everett nods.
I tie my t-shirt above the wound and cinch it tight, knowing the pressure is lifesaving."Tourniquet.Just in case."I try to offer reassurance.
"I know.Go."
I turn toward the closest building as I pull my flight suit back on, estimate the time that has ticked off, the distance to it, the time it will take me to run there, and whether the motherfucker is hiding inside.
As I reach into my pocket to retrieve my weapon, I hear Everett say in a voice just above a whisper."Hard, my gun is jammed."
Without hesitation, I hand mine over."Here.Take mine.That's also an order."
I reach back in for my buck knife.As my fingers wrap around the handle, a feeling of calmness fills me.'Hand to hand, it will be then.'
I pull it from its sheath, knowing all the years of training will give me the advantage.I see Augustus as I sprint to the building and hear the pride in his voice when he nicknamed me The Bastard Son of Thor.
Entering the doorway, I slide quietly in.Checking the space for movement.Listening with the intensity of a hunter.Knowing my prey is close, but not knowing if the enemy is a lone wolf or a member of a pack.Every sense on high alert, I move from room to room.
No one.
Climbing the steps to the first floor, I hear muffled voices coming from the room at the top.When I push open the bedroom door, a shocking sight awaits.Two women huddled together in the middle of the floor with one, two ...six small children lying face down.Their tiny faces are hidden.Tiny hands over their ears.Only their sniffles can be heard.Along the wall to my right are three preteen boys standing at attention but shaking with their eyes bulging.Their faces are full of fear.
'Only a coward would hide here.'
"Shush."I raise my finger to my lips and begin to back away, pulling the door closed while watching the eyes of the young boys.As they lose focus on me and see what's behind the door, sheer terror fills their faces.
Then, an automatic weapon begins spraying bullets.The women scream and fall over the children, whose cries are more like wails.The young boys' bodies fall to the floor, and blood stains the wall behind them.
I kick the door open, driving it into the wall and thunder into the room with the ferocity of the Roman heritage that pumps through my veins.Hell-bent on securing not only Easy's safety and the safety of the innocents but also having my revenge for Bradford's death.
I charge the enemy as the gun sprays the room.He tries to control it and turn it on me, but I reach him first.My left hand smashes into his throat while my right stabs the knife to the hilt directly in the ball of his shoulder.
The gun drops to his side and sprays rounds into the floor.I drive my body into him with crushing power and yank the knife out.My chokehold pinches off the scream of pain, and I lift the enemy combatant off the floor, feeling like a raging bear, needing to look him in the eye.
Blood soaks the burka deep red, and the sight is satisfying.
I stare ruthlessly at the red face of the murdering coward and see not a man but a demon staring back.I can feel his jugular pounding to be free and remember the feeling of Bradford's lifeless one.Laying the edge of my sharp blade against it, I slowly drag it across, using the edge of my thumb as a guide as my eyes pierce his evil eyes.
As the blade slips through his skin, I watch them turn into the fearful eyes of a mortal man who knows death has arrived to claim him.
I whisper his death name to him."Motherfucker!"Then I slice his lifeline.Blood bursts forth with a velocity that shoots the ceiling, spraying it painting it dark red.
Silence falls heavy, filling the room with a deafening sound.I hold my attack until there is no life left.Then, I nimbly flip the knife through my fingers and return it to its sheath in my pocket.Its job is done.As I release the murdering enemy combatant, I take the automatic weapon from his lifeless grip as the dead weight hits the floor with an echoing thud.I turn the gun on the innocent occupants.No one is moving.Silent eyes stare at me.
My cold eyes stare back.
Hardcore.
