Cloud 9

Chapter 1 – Drove 9 Alpha –

I was born and raised in New Persia, the 25th century military capitol of the world. I am Captain of a drove of thirty of the worlds best soldiers and Chief of Cloud 9. My name is Aaryan Eckhart and this is my story.

The United Eastern Special Forces consists of fourteen divisions of soldiers, or clouds. A cloud is made up of 10 droves of soldiers and provides the warriors a sort of community in which they can live together, interact, and share stories, gear, supplies, and whatnot. The Cloud is a very integral part of the Special Defense for three reasons. It gives soldiers a sort of respite from the action, a way to live in harmony with fellow soldiers and a welcome haven of rest and respect. Also the ; Cloud gives soldiers a chance to share with each other; a chance to share gear, weaponry, armor, and other supplies, but also a chance to share stories, problems, and concerns. The latter studies show helps prevent the dreaded PTSD and other nervous breakdowns. Finally Clouds work together, in wartime and in peacetime, to accomplish both domestic projects and military maneuvers. Clouds will mobilize together to defend a specific target, location, city or outpost under siege.
A Drove on the other hand is a squadron of just thirty soldiers within the Cloud. Droves are like a family in the community. They live in the same bunker, mobilize as a unit, and occasionally go on solo attack missions. Droves are the perfect fighting unit consisting of a medic, three support bombardiers, four support snipers, ten gunners, five melee fighters, and eight specialists, or multipurpose soldiers who can do whatever is needed depending on the specifications of the mission.
I command Drove 9 Alpha, the premier unit of Cloud 9, probably the best in New Persia. We call ourselves the Elite because we are the best of the best. And we are. We have the best weapons, the best armor, and above all, the best training. It takes quite a bit of work to be selected for Drove 9 Alpha. You have to have a spotless service record, exemplary conduct, and a shining capability rating. You have to be the hardest working, the strongest, the fastest, and the smartest. You must undergo three months of mind-stretching schooling immediately followed by 3 months of painful, rigorous physical training, And even then only a few are selected out the men that complete the course. 
Now the weapons we have are state of the art. Our neural interface tech allows the weapon to tune into the soldiers movements and predict his intentions making them the most effective in the field and the smartest weapons in the world. The sniper rifle, the Scorpion S2, has a scope with 30x zoom capability, life signs detector that can see through a foot of solid steel, and the ammo to penetrate it. The S5 Assault Machine Rifle, or Sabertooth, as we call it, can fire semi-automatic, 4 round bursts, or fully automatic. It can shoot 4 rounds a second with minimum recoil thanks to its shock technology. The Fire Claw, the most feared melee weapon in the world is sharp enough to slice a tree in half, strong enough to pierce a solid concrete wall, and light enough to lunge at a maximum speed of 130 miles per hour with thrusters firing. The thrusters fire a short burst to propel the blade forward at the maximum speed possible without injuring the soldier wielding the weapon,. The Fire Claw is the most effective melee weapon second only to the thermo-electromagnetic Red 2 Broadsword. It’s deadly combination of fire and electricity make it the single most deadly hand to hand weapon in the word. And its made from the same lightweight maneuverable silver titanium alloy as our armor making it swift as well as lethal. 
The armor includes a helmet with neurological interface, allowing the soldier to command his weapons and utilities with a simple voice command or even just a thought. Shoulder plates and jet pack for sustained flight of up to a 15 minutes depending on speed. A chest plate with a “second heart” or self-sustained battery provides energy converted from CO2 in the air to power the suit. Gauntlets each have a built-in weapon, one with a spark-knife and the other with a built-in beam-energy pistol. Then there is a hip guard with utility belt, thigh plates with grenade attachment capability, and finally jet pulse boots. The boots are my personal favorite piece of armor or gear. They allow for a prolonged jump, direction in sustained flight, and even a very powerful kick.
Between the gear, the weapons, the intense training, and the tactical supremacy, Drove 9 Alpha, my squad, is the best attack and defense force there ever was.

Chapter 2 – The Job –

The challenge of a good tactical operation is keeping all all units in sync. All units must move in unison reaching rendezvous points simultaneously, providing covering fire, moving on cues, and striking at the right moment. The Assault team, designated Abel, has the easiest assignment in theory. They have the most hands on approach. The Assault Team, consisting of melee and gunners, medics and any specialists assigned to the ground force. They have the simplest job and the most dangerous job. It is simple because their job is to eliminate hostiles and rescue friendlies. It is the dangerous because hostiles typically have a similar goal: kill you. Also it the “A Teams” job to relay relevant data regarding enemy forces, movements, and obstacles to the rest of the unit. The Support Team, usually designated Bravo, is the hardest to coordinate due their distance from the battle. Support troops need to know where the enemy troops are and where their allies are at all times. They must also know exactly when to provide cover fire, shell an area, and engage or disengage.  The command typically takes the high ground, an aerial craft, or some other vantage point.
As Captain and Chief it is my job to handle logistics, commanding the troops and occasionally leading them into combat. My responsibilities include giving orders regarding movements and maneuvers, coordinating attacks and countermeasures, as well as making the tough decisions in the field. I make the call nobody wants to make. I tell them when to go right, straight or left, when to breach, when to clear, when to hold, when to fall back, and when to move forward.
I remember when I went through training so many years ago I placed first in leadership ability and first in operative coordination and hated it. I didn’t want to lead. I didn’t want all the stress of the job and the red tape surrounding every decision. I wanted to be in the thick of it. I wanted to be the man on the ground. I wanted to follow orders not give them. But something changed that.

“Eckhart! Get your sorry butt off the ground and get over that wall!” I had been jumping a wall with the pulse boot prototype and head instead managed to plant my my face straight into the sheer rock face. I loved the mountain training but this was brutal. I had already had a jetpack malfunction, nearly drowned in a lake due the weight of the armor, and sprained my ankle on the rock hopping course. I have terrible ankles and worse knees. They were still developing the pulse tech and the armor had already been reinvented several times with new and lighter compounds but it was still pretty heavy. That’s why I was having trouble getting over the rock wall.
“Yes sir, Staff Sergeant!” I jumped again, my boots fired and I barely cleared the wall. They fired again and I landed on the other side.
I was still getting used to the mental side of the neural interface. It was weird having a machine read your mind. My boots fired again. I didn’t mean for them too but apparently they had read my mind.
“What do you think you’re doing, soldier?! Discipline yourself. Control your mind. Control your thoughts. Let the tech do the rest. This WILL become second nature to you or you WILL be failed.
I had aced hand to hand and marksmanship but I was no good with all this new tech. I could feel the neural technology reading my mind and it was affecting my performance. I never let anything affect my performance. I tripped. I had to focus. The boots pulsed and I jumped up. I was getting the hang of this. I jumped, the boots fired and I jetted over the second wall, they jetted again and I landed on the flatrock bellow, I rolled jumped again and they fired again. I practically flew over the final wall and made a perfect landing on the other side. I bent over took three deep breaths and jogged over to the water table.
I grabbed a cup.
“Eckhart. Front and Center,” hollered Staff Sergeant Cyrus Maelstrom .
“Yes, sir, Staff Sergeant.” I ran over. “Sir?” I asked.
”A word,” he replied.

Chapter 3 – Why We Do What We Do –

“Listen and you listen good,” Staff Sergeant Maelstrom said. “You have potential but lack control. If you push yourself instead of holding back you could be the best of everyone here. Now tomorrow as you well know is the final exam. You better pass and you better pass with the best grade in the class. I’ve got big plans for you. You wanna know why?”
”Why, sir?” I asked.
“Cause you’ve got fire. You’ve got desire. I see that spark of strength, leadership, and capability that I had when I was your age. I haven’t seen it in a long time and I’m not about to let it go to waist. We need that in the field. That’s what it takes to be a leader. Men need that. Soldiers need a leader. Someone to follow and obey. And the people of Persian People need someone to watch over them. Someone to protect them. Someone to keep them safe and give them a country they can live peacefully in. They need to be able to lay their heads down at night without fear, with no doubt or worry. That is why we do what we do.”
“Sir, if I may?” I asked.
“Go ahead, soldier.”
”I want nothing more than to protect the People of New Persia but, sir, I am not a leader. I don’t know how to be. I can’t handle it and quite frankly I just don’t want to be.” 
“That’s exactly how I felt, soldier. Thankfully that changed,” he said. “Now get yourself up that mountain.”
I hadn’t been paying attention but the class had already started the trek up the mountain without me. We hadn’t been talking that long had we? I had a lot to think about. I knew I didn’t want to be a leader. I wanted to fight. But the Staff Sergeant had definitely given me something to think about. Maybe he was right maybe I would make a good leader. I jetted up a series of boulders and rocks, slipped, and jumped in one fluid motion, jumping from rock to rock with ease. I was getting to like these boots. I had caught up with the class already and passing a few of them now. I was going to give it everything I had tomorrow and leave it up to the Staff Sergeant to decide my fate. He was my hero and if he had plans for me I would follow them.

I laid my head on pillow and tried to get some rest. Tomorrow I would need it. I couldn’t stop thinking about what the Staff Sergeant had said. What did he mean by “leader?” Promotion was something everyone dreamt about, aspired to, but few achieved. There was one Captain to every 30 soldiers in a drove, Staff Sergeants trained soldiers, and the Chief of the UESD was head over them all. I would have never dreamed of earning such a prestigious title. I lay awake for over an hour. Thinking. Wondering. Meditating. Finally I fell asleep. I dreamed I was in combat.
I had taken cover in a fox hole. My drove was being mortared. Men were screaming out in agony unsure of what to do. Someone had to take charge. These men had no leader. No one to follow.I could be that person. I stood up to give a command and a mortar shell landed right in front of me blasting me twenty feet back. I landed on my back looking up at the sky smoke rising all around me. It started to go black. I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Get up, soldier. It’s not your day to die. He helped me to my feet, we sprinted to a fox hole, and slid in. He took a deep breath, told me to stay put, and jumped out. He then ran straight across the battle field through the mortar fire and back. He jumped back into my fox hole and said
”Alright, Bravo is gone. Just gone. All of them. I did manage to signal Charlie. They’re gonna flank right. We’re gonna gather Alpha team and flank right. Well you’re gonna gather them and flank right. I’ve got something else in mind. Go. Do it now.”
We both jumped up out of the hole.
”Wait!” I yelled. “Where are you going?”
“Someone has to draw their fire,” he said and took off. I Ran toward the rest of Alpha team and yelled “Alpha Team! On me! Out of your fox holes we’re flanking right!”
Slowly about twenty men climbed out of their foxholes and started to run with me. We sprinted around the right side of the field. That’s when I saw him. The man who had shown such bravery earlier was now showing a great amount of stupidity. He was running right out in the open with no shield straight toward the enemy lines. I had to do something.
“Covering fire!” I yelled and took off into the open. I lifted my weapon, aimed, and fired. I had no idea what the mans plan was but he wasn’t stopping. We continued to provide covering fire while advancing on the enemy. He made it to their barriers. leaped over and I lost sight of him.
“Go, go, go!” I yelled. We reached the line and saw him engaged in hand to hand contact with the enemy, fighting bravely. We had to help! I hopped the barrier and shot the first man I saw, and the second, and the third. Then I took one in the shoulder. I dropped to one knee, continued firing and ,tried to stand back up. I got shot again, this time in the thigh. I fell forward, letting go of my rifle. I rolled over, drew my sidearm and kept firing. Then I saw the man. He was dead. Lying there about ten yards away lifeless, still clutching his sword. I was shot again.
I woke up. I was sweating and an alarm was going off. It was time to rise. Men slid out of their bunks all around me, feet hitting the floor. There were over 200 other men taking the final exam today. I was suddenly not so sure how well I would do.

Chapter 4 – Downed –

I opened my eyes. I was on my back looking up at the sky. I propped myself up on my elbow and saw my gunship. We had been shot down. Drove 9 Alpha had been selected for a covert mission deep into the heart of Russia. We were supposed to destroy two thermonuclear energy reactors the heart of their space campaign. New Persia and Russia have been huge rivals in the current space race. A new and valuable metal, Thantium, had been discovered on several planets, including the moon, Mercury, and Venus. The Russians had colonized Mercury and portions of the moon while we owned all of Mercury. The discovery of this metal had caused much tension between the the two nations but when the Russians had plundered a Persian Mercury mining colony the war was on.
The Russians had denied attacking the Mercury site but a thorough investigation found destroyed Russian tech in the area, as well as sightings of a Russian military vessel in the nearby airspace. Russian General Ivan Vlatakov  had denied all allegations, claiming to have never given such an order and claiming the Russian Aerospace Force had been framed.
Our mission was to infiltrate Two Russian Reactors, recover data that would prove them guilty from the master computers as well as discern whether or not the reactors were manufacturing nuclear weapons. If we found the latter to be true our mission would be to destroy the reactors. It was now my opinion that we would indeed find traces of nuclear weaponry seeing as how they had air defense set up over a mile from the reactors.
I shook my head, stood up and surveyed the surrounding area. I saw the downed gunship, now a giant ball of flames, and several of my men laying around me. I ran to McNabb. Jason McNabb, my Sergeant Major of Assault and best friend since training, was the best marksman on the team. I hoped he was ok. I shook his shoulders. He gasped and jolted awake.
“What happened?” he asked.
”We were shot down,” I replied. “Help me check for survivors and set up a perimeter. We need to move. Fast.”
I ran over to the next body I saw. It was Johnson. Zach Johnson was a great soldier. He was dead. Impaled by a large piece of shrapnel from the wreckage. The next body I checked was Major Chris Royal. He was our medic and a good one at that. He was injured, most likely had a broken arm. It was pinned under a large piece of the wreckage. I tried to move it. It didn’t budge.
“McNabb!” I yelled. “Get over here.” He had already found two soldiers: Grier and Tesla. Neal Grier was a Specialist. Probably the strongest man in the unit. We were lucky to have him alive. Jamie Tesla was the only girl in Drove 9 Alpha and great sniper. She had proved herself time and again. We all laid hands on the wreckage and lifted. It groaned. So did Royal. He looked up at me then over at the enormous piece of machinery on his arm. We lifted it up and McNabb pulled him out. He screamed. We gently set down the wreckage.
Royal would be alright. He looked himself over.
“It’s not broken,” he said. “I’ll be alright.
McNabb helped him bandage up the gash while the rest of us searched for remaining survivors. We returned with twelve more survivors giving us a total of seventeen that survived the wreckage. Better than I had hoped for but too few to complete the mission. I had to come up with a new plan. And fast. The Russians would be swarming the place within the hour. We had to move.

Chapter 5 – Preparation Meets Opportunity –

I woke up to an awfully loud alarm and the hustle and bustle of over one hundred soldiers getting dressed, geared up, and prepped for the exam. I rolled out of bed and yawned. I did not sleep well. Hopefully it wouldn’t come back to haunt me. I pulled on my jumpsuit. The universal black and gray jumpsuit was the signature of the Persian Special Forces. It was mostly black with gray accents. Engineered with steel microfiber blend technology, it was a soft, flexible, but extremely durable mesh material that was flame retarded offering heat and cold protection.
zipped it up and began donning my armor. First the hip guard, then the thigh plates, boots, shoulder plates and the gauntlets. I checked to make sure they were all fully charged, grabbed my helmet and Sabertooth and headed for the door.
“Aaryan!” It was Staff Sergeant Maelstrom. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Good luck today.”
“Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity, Staff Sergeant,” I replied.
“And who told you that, private?” he asked.
“You did sir.”
“Is that so? Well I hope you’re prepared, soldier. Go get ‘em.” He slapped me on the back as I turned for the door.
The first challenge was a fourteen mile land nav. The goal time was four hours. I did it in three and a half. And I didn’t sprain my ankle and I didn’t have a jetpack malfunction. I did almost drown again though. But I finished in the top 3 percent of the class and I was pumped about it. Jason McNabb, my best friend, and I had both done extremely well. We were practically brothers. We had gone to basic together and passed in the top 10 percent. We had gone on missions in Russia, Argentina, and the Ukraine together. Today, if we had our way, we would both join the ranks of Drove 9 Alpha together. We sat sipping our water while we waited for the rest of the class to finish. Tara Sarahi jogged past and we ribbed her about how slow she was. She was usually one of the fastest in the class but lately she had slowed quite a bit. We weren’t showing sympathy. We wanted the position more than anything. There were only 4 open spots in Drove 9 Alpha.
”So what was Sarge talkin' to ya about this morning?” McNabb asked. I looked at him. “The whole room saw him grab ya before you left. Come on. What’d he say?”
“He just told me good luck. That’s all. But yesterday he told me he had high hopes for me. That I was born to be a leader. It was humbling and encouraging at the same time.” I said.
“Well good luck man.”
The next test was a one mile marksmanship course. We made our way through a mile of mud, rocks, and barbed wire while shooting anything that moved. Well any target that moved. I did extremely well and McNabb did even better. He was always the best sharpshooter in his class. He had the fastest reflexes, the most precision and the most accuracy of anyone I had ever met.
The third portion of the exam was the melee test. There were hand to hand sparring sessions as well as strength and speed tests. I chose McNabb as my sparring partner for two reasons. I knew I could beat him and I didn’t want anyone else beating him up.
“Alright go easy on me,” he said. “We both know I can’t hit to save my life.”
“Shut up and let’s do this,” I said.
The bell sounded and I lunged. He punched me in the face threw me to the left and kicked me. He always came out of the gate quick and tough. I jumped up and lunged again, wrapping my arms around his waste and tackling him. I grabbed his right arm and he punched me again in the face with his left hand.
“Ow man. Easy on the face.” He threw me off and we both jumped up. He lunged at me and I dropped my elbows on his back. I grabbed him around the waist and tried to pick him up. He wrapped an arm around my leg and dropped me. He grabbed my arm, rolled on top of me, mounted me and wailed on my face again. I slipped my arm under his leg, punched him in the ribs with my other hand, and leveraged him off of me. I jumped on him. He wiggled free. He kicked me in the shoulder and tried to stand up. I grabbed his leg, twisted it, and he fell. I held on. sat up on my knees and pulled him closer. I let go and reached for his neck. I put him in a chokehold. He reached for my face. I squeezed. He planted a haymaker right on my nose.
“Come on man. Give it up,” I said. He tired again but I avoided it. I squeezed harder and he went limp. I won. “Sorry, bud.”
The fourth and final portion of the exam was ballistics. We had grenade placement drills, as well as mortar accuracy and hand cannon accuracy tests. I did alright and just hoped it wouldn’t affect my score too much. Overall I felt pretty confident in myself. I did well today. I had been well prepared.

Chapter 6 – Change of Plans –

We had not been well prepared. First of all, our intel had shown no enemy tech in the area. We had been shot down in a somewhat remote area with no near enemy military bases or outposts. There was no reason for a patrol of some sort to be in the area either. It begged the question: did we have a leak? There was no way to know for sure. It could simply have been a coincidence but it was an issue that needed to be addressed eventually. Secondly, we were not prepared for a trek. The insertion was to be about five clicks from the nuclear sites. I estimated we were over twenty clicks away. We each had about 3 minutes or less worth of fuel for our jetpacks and even if we had more, jetting across the countryside isn’t exactly smart when you have already been shot down once. We had quite a hike ahead of us.
“Ace! Inventory!” I hollered. Ace Durham was my First Lieutenant and a good soldier. He was quick on his feet and quick on the trigger and he had a knack for assessing any situation and making the best decisions. That’s why I had him in charge of gathering the supplies. If anyone could make a snap decision regarding what to take and what was not worth the effort it was him.
“On it Captain!” he replied. He took off toward the wreck. I turned my attention to the men.
“Grier, help him out.” Specialist Neal Grier was a reliable soldier. I could not have been happier to know he was still with us. He was dependable, loyal, strong. All the things you look for in a soldier, he was.
“Yes, sir!” He followed Ace.
“The rest of you set up a perimeter and check in every five minutes. By twos. Go.” The team moved out. I knelt beside Major Royal. How you doing, man? I know you were just putting on a brave face for the troops.”
“It’s dislocated,” he said as he sat up on his knees. He lifted his arm with his opposite hand, extending it towards me. I grasped it. He put his hand on his shoulder.
“Alright. On the count of three push forward and up… one, two, three.” I pushed. He yelled.
“Ok, man. That’s it. You’re alright, soldier.”
He groaned. “Thanks, Captain. So what’s the plan?”
“Still workin’ on that. Sit tight.” I stood up and went to check on Ace and Grier. “What do we got guys?” I asked.
“Not much sir.” replied Ace. “One undamaged Sprinter and one damaged one.” The sprinter is a very quick all-terrain vehicle. It has great acceleration and great brakes. It makes for a handy transport in the thick of battle. 
“Anyways,” Ace said. “I’ll have Jonny take a look at it.” Jonny was our Mechanic. We’d been on missions together all over Asia and Africa. He could fix, repair or build anything with a motor.
“We barely have any unexploded charges left, no pack fuel, and no undamaged Mech-armor.” Mech armor is mechanized armor that greatly strengthens the wearer and has has proven a very powerful and useful weapon. It gives the wearer ten times the strength of a normal man with machine gun and rocket mounts.
“So we have next to nothing to complete the mission, less time to do it, and we’re twice as far from the insertion as we should be?” I summed up.
“That’s about the size of it boss,” Ace replied. “Oh. I almost forgot!” He pulled out Bio-Life Signs Detector. “This was in the wreck. Should come in handy, sir.”
“It should. You know there were ten of these.”
“Well one’s better than none I guess,” he said.
“I suppose. Now get Jonny and fix that Sprinter,” I ordered. I knelt next to the damaged three-wheeler. It wasn’t pretty but Jonny had turned around a lot bigger messes. One time in the Ukraine we had crashed nearly off a cliff in an armored transport. Jonny pulled two Mech-armor suits out of the wreck, rewired them, and got them up in running in plenty of time to complete the mission. Hopefully he would be able to as good a job with this Sprinter. The rear axle was missing and it would definitely need some engine work. It would take at least an hour I predicted. We would definitely need a new plan. It was going to be light in six hours and it would be at least a three hour hike to the first objective.
The first objective, designated point Delta, was a nuclear power plant in the small city of Syzran in western Russia. The second objective, designated point Foxtrot, was a supposed nuclear weapons manufacturing site in the city of Samara. Samara was a larger city and would therefore be the harder target. I was thinking of new plan that would allow for surveillance, intel extraction and, if need be, destruction of both sites while suffering the smallest number of casualties possible. It started to rain. This night could not get any worse.

Chapter 7 – When it Rains it Pours –

I broke radio silence. “Abel, regroup and rollout. Move to rally point Charlie.” We moved out. It was gonna be a long night. It was going to be a long, exhausting, dangerous night. We hiked. We tried to move quietly but quickly. We did not need to run into any Russian Spec Ops. But somehow we managed to do exactly that.
“Get down and get ready,” I whispered over the com when I heard the sound of a motorized scout vehicle. My team responded by taking cover wherever they could. I saw the first sign of the enemy. A scout troop on a dirt bike came rolling down the path. He stopped and looked down. I hoped he was only checking for life signs and not thermal readings as well.
“Bravo, cover target.” We waited to see what he would do. He looked around again, got back on the dirt bike and started it up. He had just started to hit the gas when I heard it. The enemy scout was shot right off the bike. He fell the ground and was shot again.
“Cease fire!” I yelled. “Cease fire!” I ran over to the body and searched it. He had a radio and a locator beacon. Both would come in handy. I had Ace commandeer the dirtbike and relieved the soldier of his locator beacon and radio as well as all of his ammunition and his grenades. He certainly wouldn’t be needing them anymore. We wouldn’t be hanging onto the locator beacon long. Perhaps we could tie it to an animal or something to keep any search parties occupied looking for him.
“No more stupidity,” I said. We moved out. We still had quite a hike ahead of us. 

About 0230 hours we arrived at the outskirts of the city of Syzran. We had made great time and had no more enemy encounters. I explained the new plan to the men. Support, designated Bravo, would take vantage points on the roofs of two abandoned warehouses on the edge of the old industrial district. While the assault team would infiltrate, gather intel, and, if need be, make some sort of a dirty bomb and blow the plant. Sounded simple. We definitely had to keep our heads low with the losses we had already sustained. It was now pouring down rain. We were all drenched. It would be good for our cover but did nothing for our morale and made it very difficult to see.
I broke radio silence. “Alpha. On me.”
While Bravo moved to the top of the warehouses I led the Assault team into the city. We moved by twos leapfrogging through the streets and down alleys. We stumbled upon a group of Russian spec ops having a smoke and talking. I held up my fist and halted the team. I listened.
“Why do we have to stay out in this?'” one man asked in a thick Russian accent. “It’s not like anybody’s stupid enough to come out in this weather.”
”Tonight’s an important night.” another soldier said. “They’re shipping the nukes tonight. Tonight is the last chance the UESF has to make a move on our site. If we move they don’t make a move tonight it will be too late and the nukes will be on the road by the morning.”
I heard a gun cock. “What is it Yuri?”
“I think I heard something.” he replied. He moved out into the street and switched on a light.
I slowly slid down to the ground and whispered over the com. “Cover target.”
I heard movement behind me and turned just quick enough to see my tail man fire on a Russian approaching us from the rear. His silenced assault rifle lit up the night. My lead man dropped the other man in the street. “Move. Fire at will.” We rounded the corner and fired into the group of Russian soldiers, killing them all before they before they knew what hit them. We then dragged the bodies into the shadows to avoid alerting any patrols that might pass by. As this was to be a covert mission, keeping the body count low was the goal and alerting the enemy of our presence would make that difficult.
I figured we had about ten more blocks to go until we reached the plant. We were about three minutes into the industrial district of the city and it wasn’t that large. We would be there in no time but still it made sense to move as quickly as possible. I signaled the team to move forward. It rained harder.

Chapter 8 – Captain Eckhart –

It was the night before my first mission and I couldn’t sleep. I was officially appointed as leader of a unit of 6 soldiers and I was going on a covert mission in the Black Sea. Russian soldiers had captured a Turkish oil platform and we had intel that they were holding hostages. It was our job to infiltrate the structure and extract the hostages. We had a foolproof plan. Insertion was to be by helicopter about a click from the platform. We would then move up to the target using a Swordfish. We would then infiltrate on the east side of the platform near the control tower and kill the lights with an Electromagnetic Pulse. Once on deck we would split up into three teams of two. One team would stay posted near the extraction point, one team would move the cafeteria, and my team would move to the barracks. We had intel that hostages were in both locations.
As McNabb and I moved to the barracks we found it odd that we met no resistance. In fact we saw no sign of the enemy, or anyone for that matter, anywhere. When reached the stairs leading down to the living quarters I put my hand on McNabb’s shoulder. I pointed down. It was a laser trip wire, most likely a remote detonator for a bomb of some sort. This was a trap. I stepped over it and radioed the rest of the team.
“Bravo, proceed with caution. There may be a bomb on board.” We rounded the corner into a sort of living area and my suspicions were confirmed. We now had a choice to make. In front of me were about ten hostages each one strapped with enough explosives to the blow the whole place to kingdom come. Now we could either leave them and call the mission a failure or attempt to disarm each bomb and save them.
“We got hostages and multiple bombs, Katana.” Potshot confirmed over the com. Katana was my code name. It was easy enough to choose. My name meant strong with the sword and I was. My Type 12 Longsword was my best friend. I was the best swordfighter in Cloud 9 and I knew it.
”All of them armed, and all of them extremely dangerous.” Hotshot chimed in.
Potshot and Hotshot were two of the most loyal soldiers I had ever met. They had served together on Presidential details, delivery teams, special operations, and naval assault missions. Nate and Josh Martin were twins from California, best friends, and great soldiers. Choosing their codenames was an easy task. They always aced their shooting drills. They had the most skill of almost any soldier I had ever met.
“We can’t leave them, sir.” Josh said.
“Head count.” I said.
“We got twelve, sir.” Nate replied.
”And we have ten.” This was not an easy decision. We had twenty-two bombs to disarm and no time to lose. I knew when I was promoted to Unit Leader, I would be called on to make tough decisions.
“Charlie, hold at overwatch.” I said over the com. “Well, McNabb, looks like we just became a bomb squad.”
It was decisions like these that defined a soldiers career. No one remembers the times you fell back when you should have advanced or the times you went right when you should have gone left. Everyone remembers the times you deserted when you should have stayed to help, the times when you refuse to aid those in need when you should have offered a helping hand. These were the times I dreaded, but these were the moments that would make my career. I knew I had made the right decision. But at what cost, I wondered.
McNabb had started defusing the bombs. I escorted the first few freed hostages to the extraction point. When I got back McNabb was down to the last one.
“Um, problem, sir.” McNabb said. I just cut the wrong wire.
“Well we’re not dead so let’s think it through. You’re sure you cut the wrong one?”
“Yeah, bro. We should be dead.”
“Well is it live then?!” the hostage blurted out.
”Cool your jets man. If it does go off you won’t even know it. Now my guess is the metal in the wire cutters is still conducting the electricity through the wire. If you can find another set of cutters or a knife and cut the red one there…” he pointed with his free hand. “I think that should disarm it. Just be careful..”
“As if ya gotta say that. I quickly found another pair of cutters in the bomb kit and moved them into place. “Well let’s do it.” I said. I cut the wire. We didn’t blow up. .
We got the hostage down to the deck and extracted successfully by helo. The mission was a complete success and it made my career. I was then selected for a covert recon mission in Poland and a South Korea surgical strike operation. Both went without a hitch. Then I was promoted to Captain of Drove 9 Alpha. The world was now at my fingertips, essentially under my protection, my control.

Chapter 9 – A Close Second –

We were a block from the facility now drenched in rain. There was a barbed wire fence and a guard station. By the looks of things all the patrols had retreated into the guard station so finding a spot to cut through the fence would be simple. Avoiding trip lasers, heat sensors, and cameras would not be so simple. Intel showed a blind spot in the cameras about a hundred yards down from the entrance.
I held up a fist signaling Abel to hold position. I then snuck down the right side of the street staying in the shadow as much as possible. There were few street lights so it wasn’t too difficult. I then sprinted through the rain, completely vulnerable out in the open, crossed the street and slid up to the fence. I clipped an FSD to the fence. The FSD, or Frequency Scrambling Device, does just that. It scrambles any frequencies, conducted throughout the metal with which it comes in contact. It essentially renders the and heat sensors ineffective without disabling them entirely.
With the sensors in the fence down temporarily, I pulled out my wire cutters and went to work. I radioed to the rest of the assault team.
“Abel–” Just as I started to give them their orders an alarm sounded. All the guards but one immediately retreated into the facility. “Abel, follow me.” I radioed the team. “Bravo, status on the target.”
I bolted the through the hole I had just cut in the fence and took cover by a nearby troop transport. Tesla responded as Abel made their way through the fence and joined me at the truck. “We got movement to your 10 o’clock and 2 o’clock. Most of the guards have pulled back into the building though,”
I signaled for the team to follow me and cover the area ahead. McNabb took rear security. Grier tapped me on the shoulder just as I turned to sprint across the parking lot toward the building. He nodded to the left and I followed his gaze. There was a machine gun turret over towards the side of the fence, swiveling, seeking movement and heat signatures. I signaled for Sam Dunn, the team engineer to disable it. He went back out through the hole and fence and returned shortly.
“Turret disabled, Captain.” He confirmed.
“Let’s move.” I said as I turned again toward the entryway. I ran across the parking lot and turned to the cover the area as my team followed. I then made my way up a flight of steps to a second floor emergency exit. I opened the door and cleared the area ahead. It was a hallway, several doors on the left. I went in and moved down the right wall. I rounded the corner and almost ran straight into an armed guard. I kneed him in the groin, bashed his face with the butt of my rifle and kicked him back. Grier took out two more men and Sam lit up the last one.
We proceeded down the hallway rounded a few more corners went up two more flights of stairs and entered what looked like an operating room of some sort. There were multiple bodies on the floor. I looked the room over. There were multiple consoles and computer screens. Nothing out of the ordinary for a power plant barring all the gore. We needed the information off the computers though to prove this was a weapons facility. I whipped out a memory stick and plugged it into a computer as I turned on the screen.
“Abel, secure the area.” I said. The computer booted up. When it finally came to the home screen, I got an error message. “Memory erased" it said.
“Sam, someone beat us to it. See what you can do.”
”Captain, if they’ve erased the files, I can only get what was left in the RAM. Not much, sir.”
“Just get what you can.”
“Yes, sir.” He said and went to work.

Chapter 10 – Trails –

I exited the room and found McNabb with his weapon pointed down the hall. Someone beat us to the punch. Memory’s been erased.
“Captain.” Dunn hollered from the room. I walked in and he looked up from the screen. “Well I found no trace of weapon schematics. But what I did find is a virus. It is now infecting the memory stick. Hope you had a back up. My guess is it’s German in origin. I’ve seen their signature before and it’s extremely similar. The virus not only corrupts data but it’s hard to stop, next to impossible to destroy, and it never stops spreading. It also does something very unique. It transmits data. Anything new shows up in the system and it transmits it remotely through a coded system back to a mother-computer. Now if you can buy me ten minutes, I might be able to come up with a coded virus of my own to upload onto the computer. It then transmits back to the mother computer leaving us a nice trail of bread crumbs to follow. It’ll take a little time though.”
“Do it. If someone else is after the Russian schematics and information we need to know who, why, and how.” I said.
“On it, sir.” He went to work.
I walked back outside to McNabb and the rest of the team. “Grier, take Ortiz and guard this room. No one get’s in. Radio me when the virus is uploaded.”
“Virus?” asked Grier.
”Ask Dunn.” I said as I took McNabb and the rest of the team. There was another special ops team in the facility and we had to find them before they got out. We headed down the hall and found several more dead bodies, Russians and one soldier in all black with no insignias, no markings, no name. Who were these guys?
”I got something!” yelled McNabb. “Blood trail, Captain.” He pointed down the hall. “Leads that way, sir.”
“Well let’s go then.” We followed it through a door down the stairwell to the first floor.
We reached the landing and opened the door. We proceeded down the hall towards some sort of experiment laboratory. Maybe we could get some information here. I opened the door, and we cleared the room. “Trail?” I called to McNabb.
”He stopped at this console. Then he exited through that door.” He searched the computer. “It’s been erased.”
“That seems to be the norm.” I replied dryly. “Let’s catch this guy.” I ran to the door threw it open and almost stepped on the man. The trail led straight up to him and stopped. He had been shot again. I searched him. He wore the same all black uniform with no insignias. He also had a memory stick in his pocket.
“Jackpot.” I said. “Dunn, we got a memory stick off of one of the unknown assailants. Looks important. You done with that virus?” I asked.
”Just finished. I’m on my way down. Don’t plug the memory stick in ‘til I’ve found a safe computer.” Dunn replied.

Chapter 11 – Going Hot –

“Captain, we have multiple tangos exiting the east side of the building.” Tesla Reported in her slightly French accent. “Orders, sir?”
“Suppressing fire. Pin ‘em down. Do not shoot to kill. We need one alive.” I ordered.
“Copy that, sir.” She replied.
No less than a second after I had given the order, I heard shots fired. But they were too close to be outside the building. They were on the floor above.
“Grier.” I radioed. “Grier! Dunn? What’s going on up there?”
“We’re taking fire! Grier’s down. I can’t get to him!” Dunn hollered, gunfire in the background of the transmission.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“Just outside the stairwell! Third floor!”
“Let’s move!” I ordered. We left the room, cleared the hall, and ran to the stairwell, I swung the door open and McNabb went through. I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. Just as i looked down McNabb tripped a wire, I grabbed his pack and yanked him back as hard as I could. But it was too late.
We were blasted backward. I was completely disoriented. Someone groaned. I rolled over and tried to get up but I was too dizzy. I collapsed against the wall. A man entered the hall from the stairwell. I looked up just in time to see him aim his handgun at McNabbs head about ten feet away. I grabbed for my rifle but it was too late. He pulled the trigger.
“Nooo!” I raised my rifle and pulled the trigger. Several times. I let him have it. He reeled backward and collapsed in a dead heap.
“Captain!” My radio came to life. “Captain, what happened. Are you alright?” It was Tesla.
“Get in here. Move in.” I looked down. “We need a medic.” McNabb was dead. I was wounded from the blast. Shrapnel from the IED had split open my left shoulder and arm. McNabb had taken the brunt of the explosion though. He was a good man. I had to catch the men who did this. I tried to stand up.
“Engage the hostiles.” I commanded over the com. “I repeat take ‘em out!”
I bandaged up my arm as best I could with one hand and then turned to find I was the last soldier standing. I turned to the first comrade I saw. Dead. As were the rest. I was alone. I had to help Grier, Dunn and Ortiz. They had the only chance of figuring out who these guys were.
“Grier, hang on! I’m coming!”
I ran back up the flight of steps took cover behind the door and pulled the pin out of a grenade.
”Grenade out!” I yelled. I then released the clip, threw open the door, tossed the grenade, and shot two tangos at the door to the lab. The grenade went off. I cleared the hall. The frag had taken out the remaining few hostiles. I ran down the hall my weapon raised. “Grier? Grier!”

Chapter 12 – Extract –

I kicked open the door to the lab and found Grier and Dunn underneath a great deal of debris and riddled with shrapnel. Grier stirred. He sat up and looked over at Ortiz. He shook shoulder, checked his pulse and shook his head. He was dead. This mission had turned out to be a complete disaster. The thought lingered in the back of my mind that we must have had a traitor in our midst. But I could trust Grier and I could trust Dunn. I knew that much for sure. I slid down next to Dunn and put my hand on his neck. He had a pulse. I shook him. “Dunn. Dunn, come on man.”
He jolted upright. He looked around. “The drive.” He franticly pushed aside debris. He gasped. It was broken in half, right through. He held it up distraught. “It’s not a complete loss…” he trailed off. “I might be able to get something off it if I get the right equipment.
“Well hold onto it 'til we get back to base. This mission is scrubbed. We’re getting out of here.”
“Yes, sir.” he said.
We left the room, moved down the hall and down the stairwell.
“Tesla, covering fire. We’re coming out the east stairwell.” I threw open the door to the courtyard. We took one look, saw that the area appeared to be clear and we sprinted out and toward the warehouse. That’s when I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. I looked to both sides, stumbled and fell. Then in an instant gunfire erupted into a frenzy. Grier and Dunn both went down. I felt a bullet tear into my leg. The pain was almost too much to bear. I reached for my rifle but couldn’t find it. Bullets continued to fly, around me, over me. How was I not dead? I continued to lay there completely still but the shooting continued. Finally after what seemed like an eternity the shooting ceased. I took the opportunity. I jumped up and with one thought jetted up out of the courtyard, over the fence and shot up to the roof of the warehouse.
That’s when I remembered it: the flash drive. I slid onto the roof, not gracefully but safely. I looked at Tesla and the rest of bravo team. My first thought was ‘could I trust them?’ I had to. “We have to go back I said. We have to get the jump drive off Dunn. I laid out a quick attack plan. Tesla, being the best sniper, stayed behind and provided support while I jetted down to just before the fence followed by specialists Sneed and Fowler. Sneed and Fowler flaked me into the clearing and covered me while I retrieved the flash drive. I jumped up and jetted out of the clearing, bullets flew. Sneed went down. I didn’t look back. I felt horrible. His death didn’t phase me. I was numb.
We continued to jet out of the city joined by Tesla and finally made it to a place we could set down and run. And we ran.

Epilogue

After what seemed like the longest night of my life waiting for a helo for extract in a hostile land crawling with Russian spec ops and unknown assailants bent on finding us and taking us out, we finally got picked up saifly. The extract was fairly simple. We jetted up to about 100 feet and hovered there for abuot 3 seconds as the helo swooped in and grabbed us. It came from above and a net hauled us in. It was simple, straightforward, and above all safe. Safe… three of us had made it and I was contemplating the safety of the exfiltration. I suppose that’s one of the marks of a true leader, always thinking of the safety of the team no matter how the mission has gone, how many errors we have made, or how many casualties we have sustained. When we finally got back to base I was greated by Staff Sergeant Maelstrom. It meant a lot that my mentor and friend would be there for me after such a great failure. He wanted to show me it didn’t matter to him. He was sticking around.
“This.” I held up the broken flash drive.” This will tell us who did this. I want tech specialists working around the clock to find out everything on this drive. You and me, we’re picking out my team for a counterattack. They’re gonna pay.”
He gave me a reassuring nod, took the flash drive and said “After all you’ve been through today, Aaryan, they better.”

7th Precinct

Chapter 1 – Jumping the Gun

hated cases like these. Getting romantically involved with a suspect was never a good thing. I had actually only had it happen one time before but it did not end well. I had met this girl on a train station right about the time the “Cocktail Killer,” as we called her, had been tearing up Downtown Houston. She was a tall drink of water with blonde hair and blue eyes. She got on at Preston and off at Wheeler. I wished I had followed her but what would I have said. “Hey i saw you on the subway. What’s up?” But when I saw her entering the car ahead of me the very next day I was determined to make a move. I quickly headed towards her car, hopped on, and made sure I sat within talking range of her.
That’s when I saw it. The guitar case. There were three things we knew about the “Cocktail Killer.” First, she was clean. Never left a fingerprint. Never left a strand of hair. Never even left a skin sample. Second she always poisoned her victims drink, letting him die a slow peaceful death. Third, she serenaded him with her guitar, witnesses said, while they slowly passed into oblivion. No witness had ever seen her with a guitar or ever even seen her but they had heard the guitar melody coming from the hotel room or apartment she and the victim were in.
I told myself it was a coincidence. How many girls in Houston probably played guitar. but I couldn’t get the thought out of my head. I had to talk to her.
“What kind of guitar do you have there?” I asked nonchalantly.
“She glanced at me, summed me up, and answered, “It’s an acoustic Fender Kingman SCE. That mean anything to you?”
It did. The “Cocktail Killer'” didn’t use an electric guitar. “Of course it does. Fenders are pretty nice. How much was it? ‘Bout 500?”
”Closer to six. You play?” She never took her eyes off me. She had seen my badge, I just knew it. I should have taken it off.
“Used to a little bit. Not much though. I’m more into sports than music. I’m Jack by the way. Jack Taylor.” She had probably already guessed that by my athletic build and cut muscles.
“Nice to meet you Jack.” She didn’t give me her name. Red flag. “What sports do you play?” she asked.
“Mostly just basketball. A little football,” I replied.
We talked for a few minutes and the train came to a stop. I hoped it wasn’t her exit. It was.“Well it was nice to meet you but I must get going,” she said. 
She was getting off at Main Street Square Station. Why had she even gotten on the subway to go one station down? I couldn’t help but feel like she was getting off to avoid any further conversation with me. I had to follow her. She exited the train and headed toward the stairs at the left side of the terminal. I waited until she was a safe distance then jumped up and ran off the train. I did my best to remain undetected and thought she saw me at one point. She headed up the stairs out through the gates and immediately hailed a cab. I knew she was avoiding me. I hailed the very next cab and had the driver follow her. We drove about five minutes down towards Brookside Village where she got out, crossed the street, entered an apartment building and headed up the stairs. She knocked on a door and waited. She had to be meeting her next victim. The door opened, I heard her say “Hey,” and she went inside. I had probable cause so I did not need a warrant. I put my ear to the door. I really hoped I wasn’t wrong about this.
I heard ice drop into a glass and drinks being poured. I couldn’t wait until I heard the guitar. It would be too late then. I had to act. It was now or never. I unholstered my weapon and tried the handle on the door. Thankfully it was still unlocked. I didn’t want to have to kick the door down if I was wrong about this.
I threw open the door. “HPD!” I yelled. “Hands in the air!”

Chapter 2 – Grace

I got a sick feeling in my stomach. I saw her and another girl and a guy all sitting on the sofa, drinking soda, and watching TV. I had been wrong. I was so embarrassed.
And I never lived it down. The guys at the station ribbed me about it for ages. That’s why I think it’s such a bad idea to have any type of relationship with a suspect. Or even a relative of a suspect. It’s just a disaster waiting to happen.
But Grace Hill was different. She had come through the station a couple months back during a residential break-in case. Witnesses placed her at the scene of the crime at the time of the break-in. We interrogated her and got nothing. She claimed she was innocent and even passed the lie detector test. She had to be clean. The old “step-on-a-tack” never really works. So reluctant as I was I had to let her go. I certainly didn’t want to charge her with anything. She seemed really nice.
Anyways, a few months later she gets picked up again, this time on charges of grand theft auto, reckless driving, and involuntary manslaughter. She had been found in the drivers seat of a red ford fusion that witnesses said, and forensics confirmed, had run another driver off the road and into a tree, killing him instantly. Grace had a concussion and couldn’t remember much. But she claimed she was innocent, yet again, saying that she saw the car in the ditch and pulled over to help not seeing any emergency response units on scene. She said there was a woman in the passenger seat but the drivers seat was empty. She opened the door, got in to help the lady out, and must have been hit up side the head. Her concussion was so severe that we could not question her at the scene and had to wait for a few hours till she was stable at the hospital.
It didn’t look good for her. All the evidence pointed to her and there was no one to confirm her alibi. To make matters worse, her car was found parked in her driveway. Her ship was sunk. She had no way to prove she was innocent. I had to help her.
I stuck around when Detective Ron Altimus was done questioning her. Then showed the sentry at the door my badge and walked on in.
“Grace Hill?” I began. “Look, I don’t-“ She cut me off.
“I didn’t do it.”
“I believe you.”
“You do?” she asked. “Why?”
“Because you’re just an innocent woman with a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. That and you just aren’t the carjacking type.” We shared a laugh. She needed that. “Look, I’ll talk to the chief and see if we can’t take a further look into this and find out what really happened back there.”
“Thank you so much. I’d hug you but I wouldn’t wanna tangle you in my IV,” she said.
“It’s ok. maybe later.” I patted her hand and headed toward the elevator. I had to prove her innocent.  Which meant I had to take a look at the case files.

Chapter 3 – Partners –

I exited the hospital and was immediately soaked by the torrential downpour. While sprinting to my Charger my cell rang. It was Gary. Detective Gary McEwen and I had been partners for 8 years. He was 5 foot 8 and 220 pounds but he was as fast as a cheetah. He could beat anyone at a foot race and loved it when he got to prove by catching a fleeing suspect. And he always finished the case with a tackle and mount. He had played high school football but had declined a scholarship to Texas A&M.
He had his priorities in order. That was for sure. Work always came before play with Gary. He was serious when he needed to be but no one could make you laugh harder. He must have gotten it from his dad, a travelling stand-up comedian. But he also took after his mom, Executive Asst. Chief of Strategic Operations.
Gary was strong and smart and he knew me better than anyone. That’s why I wasn’t surprised when he asked:
“You think she’s innocent don’t you?”
“Yep,” I replied. “I know it looks bad but there’s no way it was her. She must have been set up. I’m heading down to the station now to check out the case files. I’ll compile a list of suspects based on the print analysis Doc and Ben did.”
Doctor Dan Allen had was the head of forensics. He’d been with the department 13 years and his work was always perfect. His assistant Ben Salazar had been working under him almost 4 years and together they made a great team. I knew I could count on them. I needed to in order find out what really went down in the car. Grace couldn’t remember so it was up  to us find out.
“I’ll talk to the chief and see if we can take a second look around the crime scene once this rain stops,” Gary said. “Maybe we missed something in all the mess.”
“Alright.” I hung up the phone getting an uneasy feeling in my stomach.
Chief Dallas Parker was a very… cut and dry man. He always stuck with the facts. He was no Leroy Jethro Gibbs that was for sure. The man relied on evidence, facts, and proof, not gut instinct or intuition. He was very matter of fact and always gave me a hard time when I got emotionally involved. Sometimes it was a good thing but not this time. I just knew he was going to try to stonewall us.
I got to the station, successfully avoided Parker, and went straight to the forensics lab.

Chapter 4 – Suspects 

“Doc, whatcha got?” I asked as entered the room.
“Coffee.” He handed me a steaming cup of coffee. Black. I was going to need it. It was already Eleven O’clock and I had a lot to do. “And a main suspect. The car is not registered to anyone but I would guess it belongs to a Wesley Reynolds. His fingerprints turned up numerous times on the steering wheel, shifter, and elsewhere. Also an Alice Wells’ fingerprints turned up many times. I also pulled a few of Bret Henderson’s fingerprints off the belt buckles and door handle in the back seat. The rest were either very old or just partials. But I would guess with some certainty that Reynolds was driving the car when it ran off the road.”
“Thanks Doc.” I took the elevator back up to the evidence locker, flashed my ID, and quickly found the case files. A big fact I could present to the chief, there were several beer cans found in the car but Grace Hill wasn’t intoxicated at all. That was good news. Also she had barely touched the shifter so if she had driven the car, it hadn’t been long.
I looked over the photos from the crash where the red ford fusion had struck a white Chevy pick-up truck. The driver of the ford had been passing the truck when he or she lost control, swiped the pick-up, and sent it careening into the ditch. The photos were not pretty. I honestly couldn’t believe the ford had not ended up in the ditch also.
I figured I had all I was going to get from the files so I decided to head back to the hospital to wait out the rain with Grace. Maybe she would remember something. I called Ron on the way to the elevator.
“Altimus,” he said once he picked up.
”It’s Jack. Got a job for ya.”
“Anything, boss.”
“Run background on Wesley Reynolds, Alice Wells, and Bret Henderson. I want phone records, back statements, known associates, the whole nine yards. I want to know everything there is to know about them. Got it?”
”Fries with that?” He always was a joker.
“And coffee. Black. Shaken not stirred. Get to work kid.” At 27 Ron Altimus was hardly a kid. He just acted like it.
I pushed the button for the first floor and the doors shut. When they reopened Chief of Police Dallas Parker was staring me in the face.

Chapter 5 - Instinct

“Where ya headed, Jack?” he asked.
“To the hospital, chief. Just thought I’d see if Grace remembered anything. Then I’m going to see the cars most probable owner. It wasn’t registered.”
“I know.”
“Wait. What did you know?”
“All of it,” he said.
“Then why did you ask?”
“Well I had to know for sure where you were going. Get out of here. Just remember the last suspect you hit on.”
“Very funny, chief. You know I really thought you would stonewall me on this. You think she did it right?”
“Judging by the evidence, usually I’d say yes. But as Captain of Homicide you wouldn’t be doing you’re job if you didn’t find out who did this, how, and why. Plus you’re gut has proven to be pretty pretty reliable. Except on the “Cocktail Killer” case.”
“Boss… some days you make me wanna drink a Molotov Cocktail.”
“Mazal tov.”
“Yes sir.”
I drove to the hospital. On the way I got a call from Gary.
“Jack, I got something on Reynolds,” he said.
“What is it?”
“He’s missing.”
“Find him.” I hung up as I pulled up to the hospital. I walked quickly inside, went up the elevator and to Grace’s room. “Hey, do you remember anything else?
“Not really,” she said. “Just pulling up to the car, getting out of mine and getting into the drivers seat of the ford. It’s all a blur. Like a dream.”
“I wish I could say it was. But don’t worry. We’ll find the guy who did this. We already have several other suspects. Can’t give you any details but it looks good for you. I’m actually headed to check once of them out now. Anything I can help you with before I leave?”
“I just wanna go home.”
“Well we’ll see what we can do about that.”
I called the chief, checked with the hospital, and cleared Grace to go home. Then I plugged Reynolds address into my GPS and took off. When I got there Gary was already waiting for me.
“Figured I’d let you do the honors,” he said as we walked up the driveway. I knocked on the front door. No answer. I knocked again. Still no answer. I tried the handle. It was unlocked. I drew my 9mm Glock and pushed open the door. After a room to room search of the house Gary and I did a little looking around. It was easy to see the place was trashed. Someone was here and they had been looking for something.
“Jack. Back here,” Gary shouted from one of the back rooms of the house. Some of the dry wall was ripped out. “I wonder if they found what they were looking for.”
“We’ll have Doc and Ben check it out. First I need to get a protective detail to Grace’s. There’s something more to this case. I’ve got a bad feeling about all this.”
“Never second guess Jack’s gut!” We both laughed halfheartedly. A few minutes later I got a call from Detective Altimus.
“Talk to me Ron.” I hoped he had good news.
“Grace is gone.”

Chapter 6 – Kidnapped

The shock washed through. I had no idea why anyone would want to kidnap Grace. I hung up dumbfounded. Why? That’s when Doc called.
“I have a startling little bit of information for you Jackson.” My full name was Jackson Malcolm Taylor. Everyone but Doc just called me Jack. “I found a single print that raised quite a few red flags. The print belongs to a Bret Henderson. He was a suspect in the bank heist down on Main Street the other day. Ring a bell?”
“So he robbed a bank and stole a car. Think he also kidnapped the only potential witness?”
“Possibly. I would check it out if I were you, Jackson,” he added.
I got the address off of my computer, left the house with Gary, and headed straight for Bret Henderson’s residence. Turned out he only owned an apartment. We had Ron meet us there with a warrant, got the key from the complex manager, and made our way up to Henderson’s floor. When we got to his door I got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. His door was ajar.
We cleared the apartment. Nothing. Where to now. I called Tanya Cordova, the 4th member of the team, who was at home asleep, and had her come in. I needed all hands on deck and I needed them now. We locked and sealed the door, left Ron posted outside of it, and called Doc and Ben to come check it out. When Gary and I got to the car I called the chief to see if he could get a bolo out on Henderson’s car. Hopefully he’s in it.
“Taylor,” the chief answered. “We found Reynolds.”
“What? Where?”
“Dead. Dumped on the side of the road. Two to the chest one to the head, execution style.”
“Peterson’s doing the autopsy now. I’ll let you know what he finds.”
“Well for the record. I think he was in on the robbery.”
“No. witnesses said it was a one-man job.”
“Getaway driver?”
“Possibly. Good thinking.”
“Talk to ya later boss. No wait! get a bolo out on Bret Henderson’s car? hopefully he’s in his own car this time.”
The last lead we had was Alice Wells’ residence. Her fingerprints were found in the fusion that ran the truck off the road and she was the only person we had not checked up on yet. She was not the probable owner of the car but her fingerprints had turned up several times.
We had to find Grace. I hoped Alice Wells house produced a lead. We drove, yet again. When we got there I both breathed a sigh of relief and prepared myself for the worst. Henderson’s pewter Chevy Suburban was in the driveway. Hopefully that meant Grace was here. We drew our weapons, got out of the car, and surrounded the house. Tanya and Ron took the back. Gary and I took the front door.
We kicked in the front and immediately heard them kick in the back. There was no one in the living room I moved down the hall. Gary took the kitchen where he met Tanya. I met Ron after the first bedroom and we moved together toward the second bedroom. That’s when I saw it. Blood. I went high he went low. The room was empty. I nodded towards the closet, the definite origin of the blood. He turned the handle and swung it open. I poked my Glock in took a quick look, about keeled over at the smell, and then I saw it. One body. A woman. I checked for a pulse though i knew by the smell and pail skin that she had been dead for hours. Then I turned her over. I breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t Grace. A more thorough look revealed it was Alice Wells. And there went our last lead. Doc and Ben weren’t going to be very happy. They had probably been up over 24 hours each and this was there third house to sweep. Couple that with the dead body and they had their work cut out for them. I hoped they’d find something, anything that would lead to Grace. That poor woman.
We set up a perimeter, taped it off, and sealed the door. Ron headed to department HQ to start the paperwork. There would be a lot. Tanya and Gary alternated guarding the house so and I took a nap in the Charger. Doc and Ben pulled up, unloaded their equipment and went to work. I hoped they turned up something, anything.
After about an hour I heard a knock on the window of the car. I rolled down the window.
“I have surprising news for you, Jackson.”
”She was in a gunfight?” I guessed.
“Well not necessarily... but she does have GSR on both hands,” he confirmed.
“But no shots were fired in the house. She was shot and dumped in the closet later. So my question is: why the change in MO?” 
“And the answer?”
“Different killers?
“Do you have a new suspect?”
”No. But it’s possible that Alice Wells killed Wesley Reynolds and then Bret Henderson killed her.”
“So…  why the falling out. Someone got greedy? That is, if they were even involved in the bank robbery.”
“Oh I would say Ms. Wells was most probably involved. You see, when a person handles a dollar bill ink residue rubs off on their hands just as oil from their hands rub off on the bills. And there was a significant amount on her hands. If we find Bret Henderson with the money, we could confirm that Alice Wells was indeed involved.”
“Good work, Doc. Any other leads?” I asked.
“I think so. We found Grace Hill’s fingerprints in the first bedroom, and Bret Henderson’s are all over Grace Hill. He searched her before he dumped her.”
“So Grace was here.”
“Where would he have taken her?”
“Good question. I’d find out sooner rather than later if I were you,” Doc said.
“Thanks for your help, Doc.”

Chapter 7 – The Only Sure Thing in Life

We headed back to the department to pour through the evidence from the bank heist and rerun background checks on all the suspects. Wesley Reynolds had no family, which was a relief in a way, because I hated notifying next of kin of a deceased relative. Alice Wells, on the other hand, had a mother, sister, and son, no kids. Her husband had died of cancer three years earlier. That would be a hard call to make. Finally Bret Henderson. His friends and family would be the most crucial because he was still at large. He had a brother, an ex-girlfriend and a child. We would start there and make the calls to Alice Wells family after the case was closed. It was still too early to say she was involved in the bank robbery and that would be a blow to everyone related to her.
I had been around death a long time but it still hit me hard. I guess the day you go numb to such a thing is the day you should hang up your hat. Being the compassionate man that I am, I always hated making the phone call to the poor guy or girl who’s loved one had just passed away, or been killed, or murdered, or whatever. But life goes on.
We pulled Bret Henderson’s brothers records. Alex Henderson, like his brother, had several traffic violations, including DUI, reckless driving, and resisting arrest. We would interrogate him first and go from there.
“Gary, grab your gear. We’re pickin’ up his Mr. Henderson’s brother.  Tanya, pull his ex-girlfriends criminal record, phone records, bank records. I want her little league softball record. I wanna know how many times they spoken in the past 5 years. I wanna know where they went on their first date, where they had their first kiss, everything.”
”On it, boss.” Tanya was a good officer. She had only been with the force a few years but she had proven herself, in the field and in the office. She did great work. Always very precise. She handled everything with a certain finesse. She was like a little sister to me though. I couldn’t see myself seeing Tanya. She was almost too good. I would hate for my girlfriend to outshine me someday.
“Oh and Tanya, we are working with Robbery and Theft on this one, so keep them in the loop if anything comes up.”
“Got it, boss. Get outa here.” She grinned at me. She had a winners smile and a winners spirit. Always kept it light but also always kept it clean. She was a Catholic, a fact I couldn’t quite accept and had even tried to talk to her about but she was set in her ways.
Now wasn’t the time to be daydreaming. I had work to do.

We rolled up to Alex Henderson’s apartment and got out of the car. We didn’t have a warrant or probable cause so I hoped he was home. I rang the doorbell once and knocked twice, as was my custom, and got no answer. he didn’t appear to be home so we headed back to the car. As we did Alex Henderson rolled up in his big black F-150. Perfect timing.
“Alex Henderson?” I asked. “We’ve got a few questions for ya.”
“Can we make it quick?” he asked.
“I’m afraid not. We’re gonna need you to come down to the station.”

Chapter 8 – I Want the Truth

I sat down, slapped the files from the bank heist and the car crashes on the table, opened them up, and took a sip of my coffee. It was my fourth cup this morning. I had been up for almost 30 hours and it surely showed. I slid a few pictures from the bank heist over to Alex Henderson sitting across from me in the interrogation room.
“Know anything about this?” I asked.
“About what exactly? …A bank robbery?”
“That’s exactly what it is.” I said. “Those photos were taken two days ago after a Wells Fargo was hit up for a quarter of a million dollars. Your brother Bret is the main suspect. Seen him lately?”
He came by a few weeks ago to pick up a few DVDs of his that I borrowed. Oh and we met at Five guys last… Tuesday. We keep in touch pretty well. Why? You don’t think I know anything about this? “Cause I don’t.”
”Standard procedure is all.Where were you on Friday?” I asked.
”Friday? I was… at home. I was doin’ some yard work.”
“What kind of yard work?” I probed further.
“What?”
”What exactly were you doing?” I demanded.
“I laid some mulch, mowed, and watered the lawn. Ask my neighbors. I’m sure they saw me. I was out there for a few hours,” he said.
“Own any guns?” I threw another folder across the table at him.
”What’s this?” He slowly opened the folder.
”That’s Wesley Reynolds. Shot three times. Two to the chest and one to the head. Someone was thorough.The photo under that one is of an Alice Wells. Also shot to death.”
”Well I didn’t rob a bank and I didn’t kill anybody.”
”I said do you own any guns?”
“Of course not.That’d be a violation of my parole. Why are you doing' this to me?” He changed the subject.
“Because I don’t believe you.” I stood up, gathered up the files and turned toward the door.
“Am I done?” Henderson asked.
“You’re done when I say you’re done.” I replied coldly.
“I told you. I don’t know anything. What else do you want from me?”
“I want the truth!” I said firmly.
“That is the truth!”
“For your sake I hope so.” I said and left the room. “Altimus. He’s all yours. Ron took Alex’s official statement and Gary and I went to question his neighbors.

I knocked on the door.
“Hang on!” I heard a cranky old man shout. Great. Just what we needed. An ornery old geezer who probably didn’t know anything anyways. He finally came to the door.
“Sorry officers. I was on the john. What can I do ya for?”
“We were just wondering if you know of anything peculiar Mr. Alex Henderson has been up to recently. Noticed anything strange? Have you seen him around at all actually?”
“Come to think of it… he has been gone the past few days. Think he went on some kinda trip. Saw him load up and take off a couple of days ago. Why? He ain’t dead, is he?”
“No sir. He is quite alive. He just needs an alibi for Friday afternoon and anything you’ve noticed the past few days would be of help as well,” I said.
“Well like I said, pretty sure he’s been gone the past few,” said the old man.
“Thank you, sir. You’ve been very helpful. I left Gary to take his statement and made a call.
“Cordova, are Henderson and Altimus still in interrogation?” I asked.
“Yes, sir.” She answered. “Been there since ya left. Whatcha got boss?” she asked.
“Have Ron ask him where he’s been the past few days. Neighbor says he’s been outa town. And pull his credit I wanna know there this moron was all week.” I hung up.

After knocking on a few more doors, getting the same story, taking several statements, and being chased by a dog, we headed back to the station to the resume interrogating Alex Henderson.

Chapter 9 – Liar Liar

“Where ya been. All your neighbors say ya been gone the past few days.”
“I spent some time camping out in Boerne at the Caverns this week. That’s one of the perks of being self-employed. Vacation whenever ya want,” he said smugly.
“Why didn’t you bring that up earlier?”
“Well I guess you never asked,” he said even more smugly.
“Hope someone can confirm that. Got a receipt?” I asked.
“For camping?”
“Well you better find someone to confirm where in the world you where all week or you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
“You can’t hold me without cause,” he scoffed.
“No but I will make your life miserable. You won’t be able to change your socks, take a leak, or walk your dog without my say so.
“Look I told I was camping. I paid in cash and didn’t ask for a receipt. That’s not against the law,” he continued to defend himself.
I got up. “You see this badge? This badge means I have the responsibility and the privilege to pick your life apart ‘til I’m satisfied that you’re not guilty. Until then. You just sit tight.”  I got up and left.
“Tanya whatcha got?”
“I got an ATM transfer on the Thursday the sixteenth for 80 bucks. And he filled up on gas in San Antonio on Monday. Looks like the liar might have been telling the truth the second time around.”
“Altimus,” I said. “Get that bum outa here.”
I sank into my chair. We had no more leads.

Grace was tired and scared. She had been tied up and gagged, crammed in the back of a truck, moved into a house and tied to a chair, and moved back into the truck. They had pulled over once, fired a a few shots and loaded what she assumed was a body into the truck bed. They had pulled over and the two men in the car were discussing their next move.
“Look. We already got rid of Alice and Wes. I say we off the girl too and be rid of her. She’s just slowing us down,” said one voice.
“No. She’s more valuable to us alive,” said another.
“Well she’s gonna be the death of us both. Why did we hafta kidnap her anyways?”
“Because, idiot, she saw our faces. She could have identified us both.”
“Well she still can. The only way to be sure she never breathes a word about us if we make sure she never breathes again.”
“I said we’re taking her with us. It could come in handy to have a hostage. You never know. Once we’re safely over the boarder we can decide how to… dispose of her.” A door opened and slammed ending the argument. Grace shuddered. She had never been so afraid. Afraid of what might happen when they no longer needed her. Afraid of what might happen if HPD found them. Afraid of not knowing.
“Don’t worry girl, you’re not a complete goner,” the man in the passenger seat said as if reading her mind. Somehow she had a difficult time finding comfort in his words. The car door opened again.
“Listen up, both of you, here’s how this is gonna go.” 

Chapter 10 – Waiting

“Boss. It’s late.” It was Gary.
“Coffee.” I raised my head off the desk where I had fallen asleep. I had only had about twelve hours of sleep here and there in the past three days. And it was showing. I got up and stretched as Gary went for some coffee.
I hated waiting. I felt so powerless. I had to be in the field rounding up the bad guys, doing the leg work, doing something. I loved my job but there were two things I hated about. The first was waiting. Waiting for leads to come in. Waiting for bodies to be found. Waiting for forensics and coronary reports. I couldn’t stand the sense of helplessness. The second thing I hated was the paperwork. And there would be plenty of it after this case was over. Might as well get started on it now while I had a little time.
Gary returned with my coffee, black as always, and I sat down to write the reports on the searches of Bret Henderson’s apartment, Wesley Reynolds house and Alice Wells’ place. Reynolds place was trashed. Henderson appeared to have left in a hurry. Alice Wells was dead. Boy was this a doozey.
I prayed for Grace, prayed for her safety, clarity of thought, and strength to get her through this. Wherever she was, she would be scared. She might be hurt... I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to throw the whole computer across the room. I had to settle for throwing the mouse. I had to find her.
“Taylor.” It was the chief. “Go home. Get some rest. Before you take your frustration out on anything else in this place.”
It was a good idea. I needed the rest. We had no leads until Henderson’s truck turned up and I had been up most of the past 72 hours. I walked to the Charger, got in, and turned the key in the ignition.

I laid my head on my pillow and dozed off. My phone rang. I checked my clock. I had been asleep about 3 hours.
“Go,” I said.
“I got something, Jack.” It was Gary. “Been keeping an eye on Henderson with the ops satellite. His F-150 was just spotted outside a Motel 6 off of I-10 near Mason Creek.Plates are confirmed. It’s him boss.”
”Grab your gear and let’s go.” By now the case was so blown up we had all the guys from North Central and North Patrol backing us up. This would be a stealth op first but we had the manpower to make it an all-out war. Hopefully it wouldn’t turn into a gunfight and Henderson would surrender when he realized he was caught. That would be his smartest play. And you have to be smart to rob a bank these days. If things went well everyone would walk away alive. Including Grace. I was so relieved to finally be fairly sure of her location.

We rolled up to the motel in my unmarked charger with the whole district around the corner blocking off the street and diverting traffic. We were not taking any chances. We got out and surrounded the east building that Henderson’s F-150  Tanya and Ron took the east wing and Gary and I took the west. Jansen Gregory, one of our Homicide comrades, radioed confirming that Henderson had checked into Room 211. We made our way up the steps, and met at the door, Tanya and Ron on the right and Gary and I on the left. I signaled 1,2,3 and kicked the door down.
“HPD!” I yelled. “Hands in the air!” I saw Grace in the corner, tied to a chair and gagged.
Ron moved along the right wall toward the bathroom with Tanya at his back while Gary and I threw open the closet door and found three black duffels. It had to be the cash.
“Clear!” I yelled.
“Don’t shoot!” yelled a familiar voice as Ron swung open the bathroom door.
“It’s the other Henderson boss,” Tanya informed me as she bent him over the counter and cuffed him. “I knew he knew more than he was telling us.”
“Where’s Bret?” I asked him. He didn’t respond. Bad move. “WHERE’S BRET!” I shouted into his ear picking him up and slamming his face into the mirror.
“Boss, cool it!” yelled Gary.
“Fine, dirt bag. Add 20 to your sentence.” I pulled the gag from around Graces mouth. “Are you ok?”
“He’s coming back. He went for ice,” She yelled with her heart in her throat.
“Ron stay here.” I shouted. “Gary, Tanya. on me.”
I radioed for back-up. “All units move. Bret is in the building. Go. Go. Go.”

Chapter 11 – Showdown

No sooner did I leave the room than I saw him. He had shaved and died his hair but there was no mistaking Bret Henderson 30 feet away. I pointed my Glock him. “Hands in the air.”
He set down the bucket of ice he was carrying and slowly raised his hands. I took one step towards him and he took off running. He rounded the corner and ran towards the railing. I thought “Surely he’s not gonna jump.” 
But he did jump. He jumped up onto the railing and pulled himself up to the third floor in one fluid motion. I was impressed. very impressed. “Gary take the stairs. Tanya the elevator.” I hopped up onto the railing. Grabbed the ledge above me and carefully pulled myself up. By the time I made it up to the third level and looked around I realized Henderson must have jumped up to the roof. I pulled myself up to the roof and saw him about to jump. “DON’T DO IT!” I yelled!
I aimed for his leg and pulled the trigger. He jumped.
I ran to the edge of the roof and looked down. I thought for sure I had hit him. There he was though, swinging from a tree limb onto the second floor. He then jumped to a dumpster on the ground level and took off toward the McDonalds down the street. I hoped that HPD had cleared it already and that we wouldn’t have another hostage situation on our hands. Then I did the bravest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I jumped. I grabbed the branch in mid-air, held on for dear life for a full second then swung back and forth and jumped to the dumpster. The lid caved in. I jumped out and sprinted after Henderson.
“All units, he’s in the McDonalds down the street. I repeat he has just entered the McDonalds. I saw about 10 squad cars pull around the corner including my charger. It was Gary. I thanked God. We met at the door and I squatted below the window. He took cover by the wall on the other side of the door. I took a glance inside. Nobody. I thanked God again. This would end here.

We had the place surrounded. Cruisers continued to pull up. Then the Chief rolled up in his Camaro. He got out, pulled out his megaphone, and hollered:
“We have you surrounded. Come out with your hands up!” No answer. “Alright,” he announced to the officers on sight. “Let’s do it. Breach, bang, clear on my count. Gary pulled out a flashbang. The flashbang was a great tool when it came to infiltrating any hostile environment. The grenade is non-lethal but produces a great amount of light, sound, and pressure disorienting and confusing anyone in the vicinity.
He pulled the pin but held on. I heard the Chief count it off. “3,2,1, Execute.” He pulled open the first door and I ran through. I pushed open the inner door and he tossed the flashbang inside. We shut the door and covered our eyes and ears. Bang. If he was in the room. He would be easy to take down at this point. He would be temporarily blinded and stunned. He wouldn’t hear us coming either. We moved to infiltrate. I went high Gary went low. He wasn’t in the eating area. We turned toward the back with officers at our backs. I turned into the kitchen and Gary went down the right wall toward the bathrooms. That’s when I felt it tear into my left arm. I had been shot. I ducked, pulled back up and returned fire.
“He’s in the kitchen.”
I heard shotgun blasts. Officers swarmed him. I slid to the floor in agony. This wasn’t my first bullet wound. I had been shot several times in fact but this was a large caliber weapon. It hurt more than anything I had ever experienced. I surveyed the damage. A few inches to the right and the round would have gone straight into my vest. This bullet wound take weeks to heal. I would be out of commission for quite a while. I needed a vacation. I laughed to myself.
When I stood back up I saw him being secured. He had also been shot. Once in the leg and once in the shoulder. Then everything started to go black. I took a knee and slowly fell to the ground. I fainted.

Epilogue

I looked down. I was lying on a a hospital bed. My arm was bandaged in a sling, there was an IV in the other. I  breathed a sigh of relief and looked around the hospital room I was in. There was Grace. She and Gary were sitting on the sofa. I sat up. She rushed to my side.
“Oh I’m so happy your alright. I just…” I stopped her.
“It’s ok. We’re ok. You know, when I get released and debriefed, finish all my paperwork and everything, I’d like to take you to dinner. Ever been to the Hickory Hollow. Best chicken, steak, and ribs I’ve ever tasted.”
“I’d like that.
“It’s a date then.” I grabbed the cup of water of the bedside table and took a swig. “Gary, did they recover all the money?”
”Most of it.” he said.
“And Henderson?”
”In custody, awaiting his trial. He better get a life sentence. He copped to killing Alice Wells. Claimed Wells killed Reynolds though, just like the doc said. 
“I’m just glad we’re ok,” Grace said.
“Heard that,” replied Gary.
“Um… I have a gunshot wound here. That should not classify as ok.”
“Shut up. You’re alive, right?” Gary teased.
”True true. Though I have been better.”
“Been worse too. Like when you got hit by that bus? Now that was awesome,” he inserted.
I stood up, adjusted the sling my arm was in, and pulled out the IV. “Let’s get outa here. I am sleeping in my own bed tonight. That’s for sure.”
We headed for the door when Grace put a hand on my shoulder.
“Hold on,” she said. “You were hit by a bus?”

Christmas Stockings

A couple months ago I sat in on Mrs.  Kiel’s Freshmen English class and wrote this composition. It was good to feel like I was in school again. I miss it. Anyways the title Mrs. Kiel gave us was “Christmas Stockings.” Being the creative guy that I am came up with something totally off the wall. Here’s what I wrote.

 

Christmas stockings are so much fun. Whoever invented them was a genius. You can use them as decoration for you home during the Christmas season or stuff them with gifts and swap with each other spreading Christmas cheer. Also they make for rather interesting head gear. But there is something special about Christmas stockings that very few people are privy to. You see, most people believe Santa Claus is a myth and that he could not possibly fly around the whole world in one night delivering toys to all the good boys and girls. And those people are half right for on the night before Christmas every stocking in the world comes to life. The stocking lies  dormant 364 days out of the year but on that special night before Christmas it connects to a portal at the North Pole. Elves then push forth, exit the stockings and bring gifts to every house, every family, every child in the whole world.

Out of the Flames

I could think of nothing but staying alive.
They were everywhere. In my yard, in my house, in my room. I was hiding under some hay bails in the attic as they went through everything in the house. They ripped hangers off of racks, pulled clothes from drawers, raked through the cupboards in search of food, and grabbed all the money they could find.
I tried to calm my child’s crying but she would not be quiet. She would be the death of us all. Luckily they were noisier than she. Before long they were gone along with most of our valuables. My little girl slowly relaxed and I looked at my wife. She was poised at the window, ready to duck if need be. I heard her gasp. Out of nowhere, it seemed, a fiery torch crashed through the window. It had barely missed my wife’s head, but it sailed straight into the hay in which i was kneeling. I tried frantically to put it out. We threw some old blankets on it and eventually smothered it. But it was not the only one.
Smoke was now rising through the cracks in the floorboards. We had to move. My oldest son, Francis, jumped from the attic door and scanned the house. He yelled that there was a clear path to the cellar door. I sent my daughter down the ladder with my youngest son, James, and helped my wife down. We dashed across the hall, past the bedrooms and through the kitchen. As we reached the cellar door I looked out the window. There would be no escaping the Nazis. There were at least thirty of them on my front lawn.

We all hurried into the cellar, shut the door, and locked it. We then took three tarp soaked them in water and shoved them into the crevasses around the door. After that, we waited as our house slowly burned to the ground. Hopefully the soldiers wouldn't wait to search the remains. They had no reason to. They hadn't even seen us.
As we lay on the damp dirt floor we prayed. We prayed that God would deliver us from the wickedness of the Germans. We prayed we would stay healthy in spite of the smoke. We began to realize the smoke would be an issue, even with the cracks around the door covered. My wife went to work cutting the one remaining tarp into pieces. She made at least fifteen pieces and gave one to each of our children to hold over their mouths. The water in the cloth material held out the smoke very well and we rotated them out every time they began to dry out. We went on like this for about four hours. The the door gave way.
Francis and i jumped to action moving barrels and crates to blockade the flames in the stairwell. we couldn’t risk throwing all our water on it so we had to simply hold it at bay. When the fires finally died down and the smoke went away we rested easy. We knew we should not go out just yet for the embers would still be hot. Instead my wife and I rationalized our situation.
The food supply was small.
"We have two bags of potatoes and plenty of coffee," she told me. "Obviously we have no way to brew it though."
I chuckled. "What about the bread?"
"Enough to last us a week," she replied.
"What a diet," I said sarcastically. "At least you and the kids are safe."
"Yeah. But we don’t taste as good as bread or potatoes."
"Man shall not live by bread alone."
"Ahem!" she faked clearing her throat. "We have potatoes."
We had a good laugh and then we rationed the water from the barrel into jars. We had about six one-gallon jars of water left, when we were done, and about as much on the floor around the stairwell, just in case. We had not taken any chances that was for sure.

"Hey James," I said. "Watcha doin’ over there?"
He looked up from the dirt he was scribbling in. He was only eleven but he was quite the artist. As I walked over to see, he stood up and smiled proudly at his masterpiece.
"It's you, Daddy."
And indeed it was. It was me killing Nazis with a tommy gun.
"Ahh, it's great," I said,"and where are you all while I'm bravely slaying the Ferrets?"
"Heehee, I dunno. Probably running?"
I sat down next to my other son, Francis, and said, "That's my boy."
"You know, Dad, it probably would have been a good idea to grab the gun before we hid down here like cowards," Francis said with a slight grin on his face.
"Then why didn't you?"
"Well... I didn't think about it 'til just now," he replied.
"Well then it's a good thing I did." I proudly produced the small pistol i had always kept in the nightstand. "I grabbed it before we even got in the attic."
"Good thinking Daddy," my daughter, Sarah, chimed in.
"Well, I knew I couldn't win a fist fight with a Kraut." We all laughed at that. I never was a big guy. I could barely even move my own furniture around. "That's what I get for pushin' pencils all day." We laughed again. I worked at the American Embassy in Paris. That is why the Nazis came and burned down my home. They wanted nothing to do with Americans.
We continued the next hour in the jovial manner and after that I decided it would be cooled down enough to poke my head out, take a look around, and get some fresh air. We walked up what was left of the stairwell and began pulling away the charred barrels, crates, and tarps. I was just about to push away the remains of the door when I heard a noise in the wreckage outside.

"Shhhh," I quieted my family.
"What is it?" my wife inquired.
I put my finger to my lips and pressed my ear to the door. It sounded like someone, or something, was rummaging through the wreckage of my house. I whipped out my six-shooter, which felt more like a pea-shooter at the moment, and turned to my family.
"It sounds like an animal." I really had no idea but I didn't want to alarm them. "I'm gonna open the door. Stay back." I slowly pushed the door aside. When I immerged from the ground I was staring straight into the face of an American soldier.
"Howdy," he said in a deep southern drawl. "You Steve Miller?"
"Yes sir, I am. And you are?"
"Sergeant Johnny Blithe, 3rd Airborne, at your service." He then saluted me and said, "You can call me Bubba."
My wife and kids had been listening intently and were eager to get out of the hole in which we had spent the last eight or so hours. I beckoned for them to come out.
"Watch your step, Victoria," I told my wife as i helped her up the soot covered steps.
"Francis, grab your sister," Victoria commanded.
Then, before I knew what had happened, I was on the ground with a hand over my mouth.

It was the sergeant. I turned my head to meet his gaze and realized my wife was also on the ground with a hand over her mouth.
"Krauts," Bubba said with a slightly audible voice. "Keep your heads down and your mouths shut." He also uttered some profanities on which I will not elaborate. He slowly released his hand from my mouth and, without moving from his belly, pulled out his weapon: a Thompson submachine gun. He crawled around in the ashes for a better view. After a moment of surveying the German soldiers, who never seemed to relent from their mission, he motioned for us to return to the cellar.
Once inside I found my confused children. My wife scooped up Alison, our daughter, and told the boys to keep quiet.
"It seems the Nazis have returned," she whispered. "We must not make a sound. The good sergeant is doing everything he can to protect us.
"James," I said, "will you hand me-"
I was cut off by the sound of gunfire. I heard orders shouted and replies to those orders. The more orders I heard over the sound of the gunfire the more I recognized the southern drawl of Sergeant Blithe. He was not alone. After several minutes of battle, it appeared that the victory was ours. The shooting had ceased. Many footsteps could be heard walking around the cellar.
Then, Bubba poked his head in and said, "Now let's get y'all outa here before them Krauts know what hit 'em."