This has been long overdue. But, I present you book 2 from my original story:
http://www.survivalistboards.com/sho...d.php?t=103883
I'll be updating it as much as possible.
Enjoy, friends!
A World Away- Book II
“
Once committed to fight, cut. Everything else is secondary. Cut. That is your duty, your purpose, your hunger. There is no rule more important, no commitment that overrides that one. Cut. Cut from the void, not from bewilderment. Cut the enemy as quickly and directly as possible. Cut decisively, resolutely. Cut into the enemy’s strength. Flow through the gaps in his guard. Cut him. Cut him down utterly. Don’t allow him a breath. Crush him. Cut him without mercy to the depths of his spirit."
~Richard Rahl
-
Retribution-
Thomas and the 6 men and one woman under his command where being hunted. But tonight they where the hunters. It was their turn for a pound of flesh. Only a year ago there where 18 strong, healthy and loyal people under his command. Regardless of the losses and the heart crushing guilt of it all, his duty was solely to these remaining rejects, these misfits and unfairly labeled traitors of the state and their own countries. They where all he had left. Besides the hate. But sometimes that's all you need to keep moving forward.
“Hit,” Thomas mumbled to Miller as he stared stoically through his high powered spotting scope. The heavy, .50 caliber round hit just below the waist line of the unsuspecting MP's pants as he stood guard over the entrance of the DHS “Processing station's” HQ. The mans hips shattered on impact, his plate carrier did nothing to protect him from the lethal round as it severed both of his legs arteries, spraying the guard booth with his life-blood and manhood. He was dead almost instantly. The next round came from team 2, it was almost perfectly synced with Millers shot. The heavy hitting .338 round punched cleanly through the booths Plexiglas front facing window, through a computer monitor and into the black Kevlar helmet of the DHS agent as he took a drink form his coffee, filling the helmet with his thoughts. The teams suppressed rifles could not be heard over the loud and deep roar of the diesel generators that ran the compounds powerful, outward facing flood lights. Team 3 moved in to take the place of the two downed guards in the shack using the massive wall of Hesco barriers that ringed the compound as cover. They couldn't afford visitors.
Sam and her partner, team 3, moved into the guard shack quickly, dragging the MP from the curb and into the shack leaving a wide and slick blood trail. The obvious mess was not a concern for they would be gone within minutes. They stripped the bodies clean of everything but their underwear and dog-tags, putting the gear into an old duffel bags. They did the same with the shacks radios and MRE's, even the bottled water and coffee maker. Sam looked down at the blood covered American flag and UN patch on one of the dead mans uniform sleeves as she placed it in the duffel. The sight made Sam sad suddenly, it shouldn’t be like this. It was such a waste of life, why? Just...why. But it was different now, the rules of the game have changed. She only had her new family. Thomas and Miller and the other four men that where all that was left, everyone else was gone, defeated and betrayed. But she had the knowledge that these men she helped kill on several occasions where turncoats, betrayers of liberty and in league with a deadly foreign and domestic power hellbent on destruction. Traitors like the unnamed 3 star General that sent them to their deaths at a camp similar to the one that they where about to liberate. Traitors like the Chinese government, abandoning thousands upon thousands of their own loyal men to die on our soil for a lie.
Sam's partner, a small man who obsessively chewed bubblegum and with the build of a gold medalist runner named Ming asked in broken English, “When truck come?” Sam consulted one of the only working watches left to the group on her burn scared wrist. “2 minutes, almost go time”. The coils of hardened white flesh that ran up the entire length of her arm was a sudden and almost crippling reminder of her sister and the Professors deaths. The very moment she lost her own sanity and innocence and became like the men whom she fought along side with. She was hard now, a hunter of men and no longer a girl. A rare and warm smile creased her dry lips as she looked at her partner. He was the reason she was still alive, this savior, former enemy and now lover, Ming. The former PLA foot soldier smiled back and gave her a wink. His love for her was unfaltering.
Quang, a medic and his spotter Ying, both former Peoples Liberation Army SOF's noted the arrival of the package first, signaling Thomas on the opposite ridge with 3 quick click's of their Shortwave. The “Package” was simple and deadly; An old U-Haul loaded until it's rear springs where screaming in protest with a lethal concoction not much different than the one used on that terrible day in Oklahoma years past. The driver was a strange and intense man they had picked up 6 months ago wandering down a lonely back road outside of Billings. He was naked save the hat that now rested on his head and a gore caked bayonet in his fist, covered from head to in blood, dying from dehydration after he escaped a max security compound not far away that burned brightly for days. He never alluded as to how the camp fell. He never took off his beaten and stained booney hat or the knife from his belt, even to bathe. They marked all that he had left. He was of average height and average looks but he was anything but average. In fact even the former Chinese commando's and Thomas kept a healthy distance from him when ever he became angry, he was not to be trifled with. But they all respected and loved him for his unfaltering loyalty to the family. He was the best man for this dirty deed.
“I see the bad moon arising.
I see trouble on the way.
I see earthquakes and lightning.
I see bad times today!”
Jasper yelled gleefully along with the lyrics blasting from the ancient tape-deck's only working speaker. The retired U-haul felt like it would come apart at any moment, this only made Jasper happier. He had the gas pedal to the floor, the angry 8-cylinder engine barely pushed it's deadly cargo towards the isolated and complacent compounds entrance. There was only two Jersey barriers to wind through and it was a clean run of about 200' to a set of reinforced chain-link and sheet metal gates topped with razor wire. Their locking mechanism had been disabled by Sam's team only moments before the first shot, leaving it easy for the truck to ram through. The top-heavy beast threatened to roll onto it's side as it cleared the 'S' turn the barriers made as Jasper hooted the whole way. Sam and Ming shared an amused look as the surreal scene sped past them. Even when he shoved a cut length of 4x4 wood onto the gas peddle and snatched his rifle and jumped from the moving beast he had a grin on his face. He lived for vengeance. He never mentioned to his new family about the horrors he was witness’s too by the same kind of people he was about to help vaporize, but they never asked. The laughter and humor kept his madness at bay, but he knew it was the madness that drove him. He didn’t care if he died, the only thing that moved him was the retribution he was granted by Thomas and his Misfit's Platoon. He owed these people everything for giving him a purpose, healing his broken body and spirit and the ability to strike back at the people that stole his original family from him. And his dog.
As soon as Jasper's boots hit the pavement he was off like a bolt, running past the barricades and taking cover in the guard-booth with team 3. Hopefully the ear-plugs and 3'ft of reinforced concrete, Hesco baskets and good luck behind the shack would keep them safe. But they all knew the risks and where unconcerned. It was all in or nothing.
Thomas patted Miller on his shoulder, nodding his head that it was up to him to make this shot. His choice in ending close to 135 American and UN troops lives that resided inside the compound weighed heavily on his mind. The thousand plus starving, hollowed and abused men women and children that resided in the adjoining warehouse containment facility stayed his course, galvanizing his choice. They where kept like cattle in that warehouse, all the while their masters where well fed and terrorized the surrounding area. Not only them but the multitude of people outside their gates starved, people robbed and raped every day of their livelihood and humanity by these turncoats needed to be set free. Some of these very people played witness this night with emotionless eyes from their hovels and dilapidated apartments at the chaos about to commence. It was some of them that made all of this possible, the recon, headcounts, sleeping with guards, giving them homemade beer and sweets as bribes and learning the guard rotations where priceless information for the Misfits. These broken former American citizens had nothing left to lose. They watched on with hope burning inside them for the first time since the collapse.
In Millers thermal scope he observed the U-haul smash through the compounds gates, shuddering on it's overloaded chassis. The open drive's side door flew from it's hinges and came crashing down on top of a barracks roof. It barreled through the ass-end of a blue Tahoe and kept going in a semi-strait line, coming to a metal rendering halt against a large Hemtt fuel truck. Almost immediately half dressed and sleep groggy men carrying pistols and rifles came out of their air-conditioned barracks shacks, confused at the tremendous crash. In the only tower overlooking the compound where two tower guards caught asleep, unluckily for them the sedative laced sweet rolls that a beautiful local 14 year old collaborator had given them with a sunny smile but a few hours ago made this all possible. It was all well planned and executed.
"All right!
Hope you got your things together.
Hope you are quite prepared to die.
Looks like we're in for nasty weather.
One eye is taken for an eye!!"
The tune blared from the crumpled trucks cab filling the night with the tunes of a dead world. JP8 spilled from the crushed tanker, coating the front bumper of the panel truck. The confused looks on the men inside the compound turned into looks of terror when they realized what was about to happen.
Miller took a steady breath and let it out smoothly, making sure his shot would fall between heartbeats. The API round traveled strait and true, punching a clean hole through the rear lift gate of the U-haul from over 500 yards away and setting off the contents in a deadly chain reaction. The supernova bright explosion shattered the relative silence of the surrounding small town and majestic, snow capped mountains sending bats and birds to flight from miles away. No one in the HQ had a chance to even scream, the fuel truck only added to the conflagration. The two sleeping men in the tower never awoke as they sailed in their burning tower shack over 2000 feet and into the side of an Ace Hardware. The blast could be heard form over 60 miles away.
It was time to move and set the hopeless free. Team 1 called in and was rapidly moving into position on ATV's as a breaching team to help Thomas and his team 1 to help clear the warehouse and take out the remaining 5 guards that watched over the people inside. Team 3 didn't respond to Thomas's desperate calls over the radio. Screams and shots could be heard from inside the large industrial store house. Everyone's blood ran cold.
11-06-2012, 11:11 PM
Fiction: A World Away- Part II.
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