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Well, let’s just say, I did not plan on spending my birthday in Russia, fighting fifty highly trained men, with only my father's twenty-two Beretta, that he gave me right before he died, and my will to survive. These men meant business. They were dressed in pitch-black battle garbs, with a full face skeleton mask. To add to the awfulness, unlike me, they were armed with silenced M-16’s and bulletproof vests. In an old abandoned warehouse, that smelled like a mixture of napalm and gunpowder, a smell I was all too familiar with. I had to use the full create that was around me as cover. Worst birthday ever! Maybe a little bit of this is my fault, but not even a fourth of the blame is on me.
To understand what’s going on, you have to know, in high school, I was so advanced that they made me take all of my final exams in three weeks; I passed all of them with flying colors. So I had a choice to make: either go to college at fourteen or go straight to the military. I choose to go to college, get my degree while in the R.O.T.C. program. This way, I went into the armed forces with a higher rank. For my studies, I choose mechanical engineering. The classes were the best, but my personal life wasn’t. Since I was fourteen, I couldn't relate to the other kids in college, so most of my nights were filled with coffee and studying.
It paid off, in the end, I at the top of my class, and so I went into the Army Rangers as a major. Once I finished basic training and boot camp, I went straight to the front lines, fighting in Iraq. I did this on and off for eighteen years. I loved it. I became the best marksmen with a rifle and pistol in my entire squadron. All of my leaders adored having me on their team, and not on any other. One of the older men conveyed to me one day “In a job where most men don’t live past thirty, you have to respect a man over thirty-one”. From that day on, I showed the newbies that you had to look out for yourself and yourself only. Once my commanding officer heard me say that he sent me straight to the land of hell, Afghanistan. It sucked! I was there for two years. Day in and day out we were mortared. Then there was the heat. Every day felt like we were in a frying pan. After I got back, I was rushed to the White House, and got a medal of honor, and got honorable relieved of my duties in Afghanistan as a Lieutenant Colonel.
So then, I went to Quantico to become part of the Federal Bureau of Investigation (F.B.I.). I spent eight months in what felt like a dream vacation compared to the Middle East. I spent twelve hours a day working my butt off proving that I was not just a meathead that only knew how to take orders. I spent ninety-nine percent of my time either on the shooting range, driving course, terrorist simulators, gym, or rock walls. The other one percent of the time, I was either sleeping or with my nose in a manual, book, or other studying resources. Once I finished my final exam, I found out I placed second in my class, right under the one person in the class that had parents in the Bureau. Since I was second in my class, I got to pick any job that I wanted. I choose the field. I loved the action. The adrenaline. Life or death situations. All of it.
I was out there for half a year when I retired after taking a bullet to the thigh. I was out on the field in Syria, infiltrating a terrorist cell when someone spilled the beans that I was there for the F.B.I. and they did not like that, so they tried to shut me up with a bullet, but they missed and only managed to temporarily injure me.
That brings us to today, fifteen days after the bullet, leg still healing, and me fighting to stay alive.
“Wilson R. Scager! We will take you dead or alive. Come out you bastard!!” one of the hitmen hissed firing off two rounds, one hit the create beside me, the other nailed me in the hip. The pain was barely noticeable to me, but to anyone else, it would be immobilizing.
“In your dreams,” I shouted back, taking down one of the hitmen, who slumped onto the ground and dashing towards a new crate, but before I made it, I took a bullet to the shoulder. As it entered the flesh, my nerves felt like they were put through a meat grinder. The hot blood seeped into my uniform. I wanted to crumple to the ground and give up, but I ejected the clip that was in and shoved in a new one.
“You filthy bastard,” a new Russian grunted in a thick Russian accent “Mother Russia will rule the world. Someday soon, very soo-.” The blast from my gun silenced him, and the Russian slumped to the floor only half a meter away from me. Within seconds of the on falling, the other two began homing in. I quickly ran to get the M-16. I ripped off the final three shots from my Beretta, put it in its holster, picked up the rifle, and mowed them down. I held the trigger down and sort of aimed but mainly prayed that I would survive to see the light of day, in someplace warm.
Once my gun finally clicked, and I saw the four Russian assassins on the floor, I walked up to each of them, cleared them of all of their ammunition, and walked outside. I was met by a convoy of men in battle garb. I jumped behind an old fifty-gallon drum and aimed from beside the drum.
“Scager, it’s me,” a stocky little British man yelled putting away his pistol.
“Sorry, I have had a pretty messed up week,” I remarked noticing that voice and lowering my gun, standing up, and walking over to him.
“Not any better than mine,”
“Try me, Carson,”
“Well, the Colonel sent me here to this frigid wasteland, just to save your ass. Now I have to go to the USS Wisconsin,” Carson smirked trying to make the Special Operations guys feel bad for him.
“I almost died... four times, and now I have to go to Wisconsin with you,” I remarked leaning over to his height, “They don’t understand you, so sympathy doesn't work on them.”
“Says you, mister know-it-all. You know you don’t have to be right twenty-four-seven,” Carson fumed glaring at me.
“Get smarter and I won’t have to be.” Before Carson defend himself, one of the special operations men walked over to me and handed me a manila envelope. I opened it and took out the contents. Once I skimmed the contents, I looked at Carson.
“What?!? Do I have something on my face?” Carson begged, looking curious.
“No, it looks like we have to leave A.S.A.P,” I snapped. Then I turned to the special operations group and shouted in German, “LET’S ROLL OUT! WE HAVE TO MAKE IT TO THE COAST BY OH-THREE HUNDRED HOURS!!! FALLOUT!” Within 30 seconds, we had broken down their defenses, pack them up, and get in the vehicles.
I looked at my watch, it read, oh-hundred hours. We were a whole three hours ahead of schedule. I started to see the bright lights that made up the harbor. Less than twenty minutes, I thought to myself. I jabbed Carson with the butt of my pistol.
“Who, What, When, Why?! HEY, why’d you do that?” Carson blurted.
“ETA, twenty minutes,” I yelled holstering my gun.
“Okay… just get your gun ready, you have upset a lot of Russians, who have lots of firepowers,” Carson stuttered.
“Already on it,” I smirked as I finished loading the M-16 that Carson gave me once he saw the out-dated one that I stole off of the assassin.
“Don’t forget your pistol,” he said.
“Thanks,” I shot back as I unclipped it out of its leather holster, loading the extended clip, and putting it back. I rapped my knuckles on the thin wall that divided us and the driver. He slid down the window.
“Yes?” a slender Irishmen asked.
“Five minutes tops,” he stated as he closed the window.
When we go to the dock, we slid out of the trucks as silently as mice. Everyone but me got into a V formation and moved forward, sweeping their rifles from side to side, up and down, just as they were trained. I walked a few feet behind doing as I was trained at Quantico, act like I didn’t know them, and as I belonged there at the dock. I didn’t want to get arrested if they were busted for sneaking around the dock at night. When they stopped at the end of the dock, one of the men pulled out an inflatable life raft and inflated it. I was surprised by the size. It could easily fit all of us and our gear. On the back, it had a huge outboard motor that was supposed to get us to the USS Wisconsin.
As soon we loaded up, we cast off and headed due north. The water was frigid as it splashed on our faces. Everyone was dressed for this weather-- everyone but me. My body shook as we sped across the water.
“Hey Carson, what’s our ETA?” I asked.
“Give it thirty minutes, then ask again,” Carson responded steering the boat.
“Okay, wake me when there is action,” I responded sleepily, laying my head on my gun.
“Will do-,” was the last thing I heard before I blacked out. I felt like I was only out for a few seconds when I woke up, but when I looked at my watch, I realized that I had been out for almost three hours.
“Are we there yet?” I asked like a drunken sailor.
“Yes, but you are at a hospital in Britain,” Carson smirked gesturing to the room that I was in. It was stearyl white, and everything was crisp and clean. I looked out of place. I was covered in dirt, blood, grease, and God only knows what else.
“Why?” I asked trying to sit up, only to be forced back by the nurse that was in the room. She had ugly brown hair, and thick, round glasses. She stood about four foot eleven. I was a giant compared to her. Almost a foot and a half taller.
“Don’t move,” she demanded in a thick German accent.
“Well, you know when you got shot? You know, in Russia? Yeah, the Colonel insisted that you got evicted from the USS Wisconsin and sent here,” Carson replied.
“You don’t remember anything because when you took a ‘nap’ you passed out because of blood loss,” added the nurse.
“When can I leave?” I asked Carson.
“As soon as you heal,” the nurse butted in.
Carson leaned in my ear, “ the Colonel is working on getting you moved to a ‘hospital’ in the states.”
“Okay, well in the meantime, I need a soda,” I paused for a second. “And a burger,”
“Now that I can do,” he chimed walking out of the room.
“And take the witch with you,” I barked. The nurse got the hint and left. With both of them gone, I sat up checked my wounds, got out of my bed. Winced at the pain, and continued to change into my tactical pants, put a belt on, and slid my twenty-two onto my belt, and got back into the bed. Twenty minutes later, Carson came back with two sodas and two bacon double cheeseburgers. Plus a new nurse, this one had silky blonde hair that bounced when she walked. She was about six feet, and thin.
“Cold sodas, hot burgers, and cute nurse. Carson, call the Colonel and tell him I don’t want to leave,” I took a swig of my soda.
“Colonel Langly won’t like that, and since you're injured, he’ll take his anger out on me, and then I will be joining you in this hospital with the same wound as you. So in other words… f*ck no, not in this lifetime or the next,” Carson laughed.
“Okay, well then, when do I leave?” I asked resituation myself into a better position.
“Soon, but first you have to heal, so rest,” insisted the attractive nurse, who had a voice that was as smooth and sweet as an angel.
“Okay, I will,” I lied. I wanted to stay here in the lap of luxury, but I also wanted to end the person who put me here. I pretended to sleep until the nurse and Carson left before I got out of bed, and got changed into the clothes that I was wearing before I blacked out and was brought here. The second after I was done changing, Carson slowly walked through the door.
“Ready?” He asked.
“Got the rope?” I asked gesturing at the window.
“I brought parachutes,” Carson responded handing me a parachute and an air tank with a mask.
“Let’s go,” I opening the window.
“Let’s,” Carson laughed as we jumped out the window.
Time seemed to slow down. I had done jumps higher than this, with more on the line than this, but this time was different. This time I had a bullet hole in me. This time I am jumping out of the fiftieth story window of a hospital. This time is two years after I last jumped a high-stakes jump. This time I wanted to break out through the back door, not blow down the front door. This time would most likely be the last. I snapped back to reality when I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. When I looked down I realized that the ground was rapidly approaching. Two-hundred feet at the most. I pulled my cord. I was jerked into the air, and I groaned in pain. I felt the warm blood from my wound begin to pore out of my bullet wound. Within an instant, my feet hit the ground running. I unclipped myself and I gained more speed. I only stopped when I was at the dock hopping into a boat with Carson and was speeding away. Then the world drifted into blackness. I blacked out in a pool of my blood.
When the cobwebs cleared away, I realized that I was in a jail cell. The ground seemed to rock and roll. I tried to stand up, but I fell back.
“Welcome to the USS Wisconsin, sorry about your living quarters, but we couldn’t let you try and escape as you did from the hospital,” joked a familiar voice.
“Colonel Jackson Langly, long time no see old friend,” I smirked sitting up.
“Scager, what the hell were you thinking? You have a bullet wound, may I add, re-opened, and then you had a joy-ride over the Atlantic Ocean. If you were still enlisted, I would be court marshaling you until the cows come home. Plus you nearly gave that pretty nurse a heart attack, thankfully she was one of our own assigned to help you, and now she is going to finish what she started on the way back to Washington,” Jack demanded walking away.
“Wow, you ticked him off,” stated the nurse.
“Okay, who are you?” I asked.
“Maev, Savannah Maev,” she responded with a smile, “but my friends call me Savan.”
“I bet you already know my name?” I smirked.
“Yes, everyone on this damn ship does, and trust me, every woman on this ship has tried to get locked up just to look at you,” Savan shot,
“Okay, well bye,” I winked as I tried to get up, but Savan quickly shoved me down and sat on me.
“No, not until I fix your wound,” Savan snapped starting to bandage my hip.
“Add a phone number and I will sit and stay,” I insisted.
“Deal,” Savan winked writing her number on a bandage, “Call if you need anything, I’ll pick up.”
“Okay, I will,” I relaxed a bit. After about two minutes of silence, Savan broke the silence.
“Okay, you are all done, let's go to the cafeteria and get some food for you,” Savan beamed, helping me to my feet.
“Only if you buy, I left my wallet in Russia,” I joked with a grin.
“That’s a new one, so yes,” she giggled. Right then and there, someone came over the P.A. system…
“WILSON SCAGER REPORT THE THE BRIDGE. I REPEAT, WILSON SCAGER TO THE BRIDGE. SCAGER TO THE BRIDGE.”
“Well sorry about that, but I have to go to the bridge,” I sighed getting up and walked out.
“See you soon,” Savan winked.
As soon as I got to the bridge I was greeted by the captain, Carson, and Colonel Langly.
“So, I hear I am the big man on campus, what did I do to be so lucky?” I asked sarcastically.
“You got shot up, base-jumped out of a building, and made international news,” shot the Colonel, “also, you are the one who took down four of the most ruthless hitmen in Europe.”
“So, that’s just an average day at the office for me, well all except making international news,” I grinned slyly.
“Well we are putting you on a plane back to the states, then you are going to stay there for a month on paid vacation. And if we see you for any reason for that month, I will personally court-martial you,” Jackson snapped.
“So you mean, a month of playing around with my pitch-black Corvette Stingray, General Dynamics F-16 Fighting Falcon, base jump, and staying in my vacation cabin in E, Maine for a month? Sweet! Wait, can I go out of the country?” I smirked, feeling like the king.
“Yes, you can,” the Colonel stammered.
“We pay him way too much,” Carson sneered, rolling his eyes.
“I get the big bucks because I put people like El Chapo in the ground for good, while taking down entire drug cartels, so yeah, when you can bring down one of the biggest drug lords in the world, and his empire, you can make my type of money,” I smirked at Carson.
“Well, whatever we pay you, you need to get off of this ship and back to the mainland.
“Get me to the plane, I am gone,” I chimed walking out of the room.
“Go to the helipad, there is a chopper waiting for you,” Jackson yelled after me.
“Thanks, I just need to pick something up from the med-bay,” I yelled back walking out.
Once I got to the med-bay I quickly found Savan and told her about my forced vacation.
“Nice,” Savan beamed.
“Yeah, I can’t wait to drive fast, fly high and jump fast,” I remarked.
“I wish I could join you, but, you know, I have to work on this ship for another four weeks!”
“Yeah, I will miss you, but the Colonel told me that there’s a chopper waiting for me on the deck.”
“Well goodbye. And remember to call whenever you want,” Savan winked as she pulled me into a kiss. We sat there kissing for what felt like an eternity when I heard that little voice in my head saying that I should leave now before I can’t leave at all. So I pulled out of the kiss, wished goodbye, and walked out. The walk from the med-bay was quick and short. Once I got to the deck, I saw an apache on the pad waiting for me, calling me.
“Mr. Scager,” one of the flight deck crew called to me, “this will be your ride back to the London City Airport in England. Have a great flight.”
“Thanks, I will try,” I added as I slung my bag over my shoulder. I walked the twenty feet to the Apache and hopped in. It was a slick fighting machine capable of 182 mph. Fast. The interior was snug but I was used to it. The rotors started to whir above my head, and we slowly hovered above the deck. Once the signal was given, the pilot, a short English man with a pencil mustache and bed-head style hair, fly up and turned towards the mainland. My paid vacation had begun.
I had three flights, one from the ship to England, one from England to New York, and one from New York to Maine. The one from England to New York was nice because I was put in a private air force jet. The ones that they save for heads of the treasure, and the heads of states. Then the one from New York to Maine, was fast because I had my jet in the hangar at the airport. My F-16’s top speed is 1,500 mph. Yeah, very fast. My cabin wasn’t much, only two stories, a two-car garage that doubled as my shop, boathouse, and landing strip, all in the mountains. I have a purebred German Shepherd, his name is Odin. He is military trained, but still a knucklehead, and is probably the best pet I could ever have.
When I came down to my final approach, there was no turbulence, so it was quite easy. When I walked the cobblestone path that I had walked a million times. I walked through the massive dark oak doors in the front of my house, and the first thing that I saw was the first set of buck antlers that I ever hunted. My mind drifted to that day. It was a crisp autumn day. I was with my father, who had served twenty years in the United States Marine Corps. He was stationed in Iraq for fifteen different tours of service. By the time he got out for good, I was fourteen. He was my hero, the man who survived for twenty years in a job where young men die, is the best role model I could have asked for. We had our bows with us, we used bows because we both hated using guns because they kill too quick, too powerful. The buck walked right in front of our blind in the woods. My dad was the one who silently pointed it out. I lifted my bow, inhaled, and released. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the triangle type of the arrow spun twice and pierced the flesh of the buck. It was a quick and seemingly painless death for the deer. My dad gave me one of those I’m-proud-of-you-son-you-just-moved-from-a-boy-to-a-man look. I felt like I was the only one in his life. My mind then fluttered back to reality. I pulled out my phone and pulled up Spotify. I shuffled through my songs and found the one I was looking for, Break Stuff by Limp Bizkit. It was right above Ready Aim Fire by Imagine Dragons. I nodded my head to the heavy metal beat. I walked past my dining room and weight room, to my armory, which was at the lowest level of my house. I had all the latest gear. Guns, bullet-proof vests, knives, you name it, I have it. I also have to compound bow that my father gave to me before he passed away from cancer. I used that bow a million and a half times. I loved it.
I turned around, I was scared out of my mind for about three seconds. There was a girl about five foot seven, and probably around twenty-one years old.
“Hello, who the hell are you, and what the hell are you doing in my house?” I demanded slowly gripping the handle of my old twenty-two.
“Um, I am Olivia, and I needed to talk to you Mr. Wilson Scager,” Olivia stammered backing up. I loosended my grip on the pistol.
“Okay, come into my living room, I’ll get something to drink, what would you like?” I insited.
“I’ll take a sports drink if you have one,” she mumbled.
“Okay,” I smirked. I walked to the fridge, got two sports drinks, and a thing of beef jerky. I walked into the living room and saw Olivia admiring my collection of deer skulls and antlers.
“Do you like them? Shot each one myself, with a bow,” I motioned to the animals.
“Yeah, I do like them, I wish someone would have taken me hunting when I was a kid. My dad died when I was about ten,” Olivia told me as she started to cry.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did your father die?” I asked.
“He was a Marine like your father he was in the same platoon as him. He and your father were great friends. He ton talked about you a lot when he wasn’t on duty. He laid his life on the line for your father,” Olivia responded.
“Oh, I am sorry, I didn’t know,” I groaned, feeling like someone had punched me in the gut.
“Then my brother was a Masked Man. Like you. He was with you the night that you brought down El Chapo and his drug empire, but, unlike you and the rest of you men, he was shot down, and you just left him there,” Olivia cried. A million thoughts ran through my head at once.
“How the hell did you know that no one knows about that mission or any of the men that were on its names?” I asked standing up. I looked her dead in the eyes and told her without a hint of remorse, “If you move at all, even an inch, I will shoot you.” I pulled out my phone and dialed Jackson. He picked up on the second ring.
“What the hell Scager it is midnight where I am at,” Jackson yelled into the phone.
“Jack, we have a problem or should I say a code red with Operating Big Man, someone leaked, we have to go underground,” I told him not letting my eyes drift away from Olivia.
“F*ck,” Jackson hung up. I looked over at Olivia.
“Get up, now.” I pulled out my gun and motioning toward the door. “Move!”
She obeyed and walked to the door. I found a pair of handcuffs lying around. I snatched them up and put them on Olivia. Once we got to my armory, I handcuffed her to a pipe.
“You move from this spot, I kill you, got it?” I asked with a glare in my eyes.
“Yes,” she mumbled. I walked into the room and grabbed all of my gear and loaded it into my hovercraft. I chose this because if we had to go over water and minefields, I knew that I would survive. I also know that the rest of the Masked Men have them too. I got a text on the ‘Masked Men Secure Line’ saying to meet at meeting point Alpha (a.k.a Ross, Ohio). It’s going to be a long trip from here to meeting point Alpha. By car, it would take seventeen and a half hours. This is going to be a long trip. Once I got everything loaded into the, I knocked Olivia out with a sleeping drug. She was out cold. I loaded her up into the hovercraft, cuffed her to one of the poles. I ran back inside the house to grab a few more things. Once I gathered my ‘survival kit’, I turned back to the staircase that leads to the armory. I was halfway down the stairs, and I heard the faint sound of thumping on my front door.
“Crap,” I mumbled under my breath. I sprinted down the rest of the staircase. I flipped the switch to the door when I got into the room. I slammed close the solid iron door and latched it close. Whoever was breaking down my door, wanted to have a very heated conversation with me. A conversation that I was not going to have without a sniper on my side. I hopped into the hovercraft and put the pedal to the medal. The armory is connected, via a reinforced door, to a lake. The lake was connected to multiple rivers and grasslands. I scared the living daylights out of the people who broke into my house. I saw my house go up in flames, I could only guess that they blew up the house so I could never go back. I would be sorry for the people there, but they brought this among themselves. My dog wagged his tail. He loved it when there was a big bang. My house was gone, and I didn’t care, I had nothing but animal fur and dark oak. All of my values are in Switzerland, under an alias, Maxwell Lange.
We got there in under twenty-four hours. It was a miracle that I didn’t kill Olivia. Once she woke up, she won’t shut up. She was not happy.
“What the f*ck? What did you do that for?”
“Shut up, before I put a bullet in your head,” I told her without a hint of remorse.
“I hate you,” Olivia spat at me.
“Well I can let you off, but if I do, the people who blew up my house would torture you until you tell them where I am going, and sadly for you, you don’t know where I am going. So have fun getting killed,” I glared at her. That shut her up.
In less than two days, we made it to our destination. I was about to kill Olivia because she wouldn’t shut up. She blamed me for all of the horrid things that have been happening. I always responded with…
“Well, if you hadn’t told whoever you told, I wouldn’t have had to knock you out, lock you to the boat and take you with me.” I continued “trust me, if I could have left you there, and let them kill you, without you risking every man on my team, I would have.”
“Well then you would have had me on your conscience,” Olivia shot at me. I laughed.
“You think after serving in the Army Rangers as a Lieutenant Colonel for eighteen years, that I have a conscience?” I asked in complete shock.
“Well excuse me for thinking that someone who served in the United States Army would have a little human decency,” Olivia responded with pure anger in her eyes.
“I have done more horrible things than you realize, killed more people than you would think, so no, after eighteen years killing, I do not have a conscience,” I was pissed off at this point.
“My brother would never have done anything to hurt anyone that didn’t pose a threat to his country,” Olivia claimed defending her brother.
“Your brother is just as much of a monster as I am a sweetie, so stop defending him, it is going to get you killed,” I glared at her.
“I… Hate… You” is all she sneered to me after that. Once I got her into the safe house, I was met by a hail of bullets. I shoved Olivia to the ground. She groaned in agony for the blow. I took two bullets to the calf, one to the shoulder, and one nicked my ear.
“Shit” I yelled.
“Scager? What the hell?!? Who is this and why did you save her?” A familiar voice shouted after the bullets subsided.
“Well, she is the one who leaked to whomever about us, and I saved her from the bullets because I think she has some information that we need about our enemy,” I grinned. “ And I need some medical attention, I forget my sewing kit at home.”
“Let’s get you some medical supplies, so you can fix yourself up,” Carsonhelped me to my feet. It felt like a thousand knives had been stabbed and twisted in my leg. “Would you do me a favor Langly, bind her for me, I wouldn’t want her getting away and telling her friends,” I fumed with a glare at her.
“Yes sir,” Langly replied.
“Thank you, I have had a pretty bad day, so I needed that win,” I joked limping away. We walked into a room next to the door. In there I met my Savannah. I nearly passed out. I leaned towards Carson. “She knows about us and mission?”
“Yeah, she does,” Carson smirked leaving us alone together.
“So, you know?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Savan replied.
“How long have you know?”
“Since you guys came back from the mission and the ‘Masked Men’ saved the youth of tomorrow.”
“That was the headline of every paper the Monday after we came back and El Chapo was dead.”
“Yeah, now let’s get you fixed up,” Savan changed the subject, pulling out some medical supplies.
“Let’s,” I agreed.
An hour later, I was all fixed up. Savan had taken the bullets out of me, stitched me up, and given me some pain medicine. While I was recovering, I thought about what to do with Olivia. My first instinct was to use torture methods, but then she won. She would know I was truly heartless. So I decided to do nothing, let her mind do the torture. Make her spill her guts because of her mind. I told Langly to put her in her room with nothing in it. No chair, no bed, no nothing. He did it with glee.
“Hey Wilson, I need you to see something,” Jackson gulped with a look of fear in his eyes.
“What is it?” I asked with concern.
“Just look,” he insited pointing at a high-tech computer monitor. There were just a bunch of blinking red dots.
“What am I looking at?” I asked confused.
“Each red dot is a person who is trying to infiltrate our compound. There are over fifty men -- armed to the teeth -- are out there, and some of them have high powered rocket launchers,” Jackson spoke.
“What do you want to bet that it is S.O.E.?” I asked grabbing an M-16, a grenade launcher, and a KA-BARR.
“Nothing, because I would lose that bet, big time,” Jackson said.
“Yeah, you would. Let’s go kick some ass,” I said shoving a clip into my gun.
“I am going to like this, I haven’t gotten my hands dirty in some time now,” Jackson said grabbing a gun and shoving a clip into it as well.
“That’s too bad, it is a weekly thing for me,” I said.
“I am envious of your life,” Jackson said sarcastically.
“Me too,” I said kicking open the front door and emptying my clips on everything that moved.
“Scager, look out,” Jackson Langly yelled as a mortar shell flew past my head and into the building.
“Shit!!!!!” I yelled as it exploded. I knew people had died.
I marched straight forward into the heat of battle. I didn’t miss a shot. I had one goal in mind, destroy the ace-hole who killed my friends. I left a trail of blood in my path, but it was a part of the job. I saw the guy who shot the shot.
“Hey, asshole, what the f*ck, you just killed my f*cking friends, what the hell?” I yelled bringing my gun level.
“S.O.E. hired us to take some person named Savannah Meav out for good,” the man said in terror.
“I believe you, thus you shall live, but I guarantee you that the rest of your life is going to be very painful, I guarantee you that,” I said flipping my gun around so I was holding it by the barrel. I hit him with the butt of my M-16 with enough force to knock you his tooth. He was out cold. I dragged him by the collar on his BDU’s back to the base. When I arrived there, I saw Jackson in tears.
“What’s up? What’s wrong?” I asked looking worried.
“It’s my sister,” Jackson said.
“You have a sister?” I asked genuinely confused.
“Yeah, Savannah,” Jackson.
“What happened to her?” I asked.
“She… She got blown up in the explosion. She’s gone,” Jackson said starting to cry. My face was stone cold, absolutely no emotion.
“I have… I have to go deal with something personal,” I said walking into the last standing room. Sadly Olivia made it out with a few scratches. I threw the man in with her and pulled out my twenty-two.
“You two know each other,” I asked.
“No,” Olivia said lying through her teeth.
“Okay,” I took the safety off of my gun. “I don’t believe you.”
“Wait don’t shoot,” he said.
“Okay,” I said putting a bullet in his shoulder.
“Okay, she hired me to kill Savannah, please don’t shoot me,” the guy said.
“Oh, I won’t kill you, I will leave that to him,” I said gesturing to Colonel Jackson. “Have fun.” I walked out of the room and never looked back. I hopped on a nearby motorcycle and left to never come back. I had a burning urge to find the person who made my life go off the rails. My idea right now was that someone from our old team went A.W.O.L. and is now out for revenge. Why I have no clue. It is just a theory though.
I drove for about three days until the motorcycle ran out of gas. I was in Wisconsin when I ran out of gas. I was tired from lack of sleep, and constant replaying of Savan’s death. I couldn’t shake the image of her death because of me and my mistakes. I was hell-bent on setting things right even if that meant getting shot over and over until I kill the ace-hole who put Oliva up to getting Savannah killed. I had to make one stop before I could be done. I had to go to Russia.
I caught the first plane to Moscow. I touched down at about 0400 and I caught a cab to my friend’s house. We had been friends for a while now. She was my go-to person when I needed help with something. Her name was Maria. She was the same age as me but she lived in Russia so we couldn’t hang out too much. When we did, it usually ended with me taking a bullet for her. That is why we got along so well.
Her house was big and grand. It was a late eighteen hundreds’ Victorian house with a large garden in the back. Plus an indoor swimming pool. I walked up the well-kept path to the house and knocked. She yanked the door open and nearly fainted. She hadn’t seen me in over a year.
“Wilson!!!” She screamed as she hugged me.
“Hey Maria, how are you?” I asked.
“Great now that you are here,” Maria said giving me another hug.
“Hey, I need a favor,” I said pulling away from her hug.
“What do you need?”
“I need to find a guy named Rogue Thunder, you know him?” I asked Maria.
“Yeah, he lives right next door,” she said pointing at the Mason next door.
“Thank you,” I said as I gave her a big bear hug. I cut through the lawn because if I walked around the lawn, I would have walked another five miles. I scaled the fence and ripped my pant leg a bit at the knee. I ran through the yard, dodging all the trees and weeds. I pulled out my .22 just in case things were heated between the two of us. I walked up to the dark oak door and knocked.
“Who is it?” A man who seemed to be in his late twenties, and a battle-hardened soldier.
“The name is Lange, Maxwell Lange,” I said using my alias.
“Oh, I thought you were that guy that Maria talks about all the time, what was his name… Oh yeah, Wilson Scager,” The man behind the door said.
“Yeah that’s me,” I said backing up a bit.
“That’s what I thought, come on in,” He said as he opened the door. “And by the way, I am Rogue Thunder.”
“That’s what I heard, I need some help snuffing a man,” I said putting my gun away.
“No problem, who is it?” Rogue Thunder asked.
“That’s the problem, I don’t know who it is. If I did, they would be dead already,” I said continuing to walk down the long dark corridor. I had a bad feeling about this, but I needed to get information.
“Okay, what information do you have on the person?” Mr. Thunder.
“Well whoever did this, hired a bunch of mercenaries to attack my safe house and kill a woman named Allie Maev. The person who shot Maev knows a woman named Abby. Other than that, I know nothing,” I said as we walked into a large room filled with paintings and a grand fireplace on the far wall. The fire was roaring and the room felt hot compared to the frigid outdoors.
“Well as far as I know the man you are looking for is named Rocky, or at least that is his street name, his real name is Rico Nealy. He is from the Bronx and is ex-military. Worked for S.O.R.E. back in the day. Was a great operative. But he was dishonorably discharged because he shot a local priest. He was court-martialed and sent back to the United States. He is now in a Russian prison,” Rogue Thunder said.
“Thank you for your help,” I said getting up and starting to walk towards the door. I pushed the door open with little force.
“Wait” Rogue Thunder yelled after me.
“Yeah?” I asked uncertainty.
“If you are going to go after him, you are going to need my help,” Rogue Thunder pleaded.
“How do I know that you are not going to backstab me?” I asked raising my brow.
“Because I need to make things even between me and Rocky. Don’t ask. It’s personal,” Rogue said with the look of death in his eyes. I knew that ‘no’ wasn’t an option with this guy.
“Okay, then. Come on, let’s go,” I said with a sigh, gesturing towards the door.
Once I got outside, We hailed a taxi and left for the Russian prison. It took us three hours to get there but when we arrived, I decided that this was going to be the most unfair fight in the history of fighting.
“Let’s keep our inferred gear on so we can see people before they get to us,” I said getting my multiple guns ready. “Look, when I kill, don’t talk to me, you might get shot, okay?”
“Yeah, let’s do this,” Rogue Thunder said pulling out an old AK-47.
“Don’t miss, shoot straight, and kill yourself,” I said lading my clip into my gun and locked it. I chucked a grenade (or two) into the prison. They went off simultaneously went off creating a crater in the wall. Rogue Thunder started lighting up anything that moved. Sadly, he was a horrible shot. I took up the load and ended anything that he missed. We did this wave after wave. Clip after clip. The more bodies that fell, the closer we got to Rocky. At the point when we made it to his cell, we both took a little heat. The body count Wilson/Rogue Thunder= five-hundred fifty-eight, Other Guys= zero. We made it to his cell and busted the door open. I yanked him out by the scruff of his shirt.
“What the hell?” Rogue Thunder yelled more than he asked. He jammed my .22 into his head.
“My friend here would love to blow your brains out, but I need you alive,” I said.
“What for?” Rocky asked in a thick Russian accent that I would think anyone would pick up after being in a Russian prison.
“You are going to explain why you had Allie killed,” I said.
“Well, it is quite simple, I wanted to hurt you, by hurting those who you love, thus you are hurt,” Rocky said with a sly grin.
“Well, it is quite simple, I wanted to hurt you, by hurting those who you love, thus you are hurt,” Rocky said with a sly grin.
“Well, you made two mistakes that are going to cost you. mistake number one, you killed my best friend Allie, the person that I loved, mistake number two, you admitted to ordering the strike against my base. Both make me want to kill you. To be frank, I have come up with about fifteen ways to kill you in my head, and in my head, I have executed all of those ideas. But! I am going to let Mister Rogue Thunder hear decide your fate,” I said looking at Rogue. “Shall it be life or death?”
“Death,” he said with grim. He handed me the gun and I popped off two shots in the head and it was all over. I had avenged Allie and made a new friend.
Rogue Thunder and I walked out of the prison and into the woods behind. We didn’t make it ten feet before they had the hounds looking for us. They caught up with us. They handcuffed us and brought us to the Russian version of the statehouse. There we were interrogated for about three hours. After that, they left us in a room together to wait and see our fate. After about an hour of waiting, a tall, and stocky man walked in and sat down.
“Hello, my name is Daniel Archer and I work for a group of people called G.R.I.F.F.I.N., the Global Research In Finding Fugitives working with INTERPOL and NATO or G.R.I.F.F.I.N. for short, and we have seen your skills and we want both of you to be apart of an elite unit to bring down our enemies,” Daniel said stone cold.
“Well Daniel, I don’t know if you have noticed, but we are in a Russian Slammer, we aren’t going to get out anytime soon, but other than that I am good to join,” Rogue Thunder said sitting back in his chair.
“I will join on one condition, I need to do something before you ship me off to who-knows-where,” I said looking Daniel in the eyes.
“Deal and the whole Russian jail thing won’t be a problem, if you accepted, the Russian government was going to trade your lives for one of their men that we have sitting on ice at the moment, as for the one thing you need to do Mister Scager, name it and you can do it,” Daniel said getting up.
“Okay, I need to see my friend Maria for about ten minutes maximum,” I said shaking hands with Daniel. Rogue followed in pursuit.
“Let’s go, boys,” Daniel said leading us to the door.
On our way to Maria’s house, we made a pit stop for me to get one thing before I said goodbye to Maria. I walked up the path to the front door and knocked. She opened up immediately.
“Wilson, I am so happy to see you alive, what do you need,” Maria said after she hugged me.
I got down on one knee and asked, “Maria, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”
“Yes!!!” She cried. I gave her a big bear hug and whispered in her ear that I have to leave for a little while, but I will be back later. She nodded as I left for the limo. I climbed in and Daniel and Rogue Thunder were picking up their jaws off of the ground.
“Nice dude,” they said in unison as we drove off to our new beginning.