the desert, far from Caldwell, or Boston, Massachusetts, or ... sanity.
About two years after the fact, when Jim Heron and Special Operations was not long ago, think that Isaac Rothe, Matthias the bastard and he, all had their lives changed the night that bomb exploded in the sand.
Of course, at that time none of them knew what it all meant, or where they would take.
But that was the life: no man had a guidebook of its own theme park. You had to jump to attractions when they appeared, never knowing if you'd like that ... or if you were considering going to make the fucking vomit all over the hot dog and cotton sugar.
However, perhaps it was a good thing. As if to go back he would have thought that would end up dodging a demon "or trying to save the world from destruction?
Come on.
But tonight, in the dry cold that crept into the second when the sun set behind the dunes, he and his boss had gone into a mine field ... and only one was out. The other one? Not so much ...
* *
"Here is," said Matthias came up to an abandoned village that was the color of caramel ice cream with whipped cream and nuts Friendly.
were about fifteen miles northwest of where they were housed in barracks full of armed men. Since your boss and he was Special Operations, or XOps were outside the mainstream of the bodies identified, which worked to their advantage: the soldiers as they carried ID in all branches of service and used when it suited them.
The "people" was not more than four stone structures that were crumbling and a handful of wooden sheds and tarpaulins. As they approached, Jim got the balls to tie it when their night vision goggles caught green movements all over the place. I hated those damn ... tarps flapped in the wind, shadows, people rushing around as fast feet they had weapons. And grenades. And all sorts of things sharp and bright. Or in this case
filthy and sandy.
hated missions in the desert, better to kill in civilization. Although an actual mission entailed urban or suburban even more exposure, at least had an option of knowing that you were attacking. Out here, people had resources that were not familiar and that they had always nervous and tough.
also did not trust the man who was with him. Yes, Matthias was the head of the organization with direct line to God. Okay, Jim had trained to type long before. Yes, he had been under his orders during the last decade.
But all this only made him be more confident that did not want to be alone with the great man ... and yet here they were, in a "village" in the beautiful town of A-site-where-nobody-can-find- un-be-alive.
A gust of wind came up fast as a plain Nike through the landscape, accelerating the sand, picking up those tiny particles. And taken directly to strike at the collar of his camouflage uniform field. Under his black boots lace, the floor was constantly changing, as if he were an ant walking across the back of a giant and angry to piss off the bastard. You start
to feel that at some point a large palm could fall from the sky and crush you.
This journey west was Matthias idea. Something that could not be discussed in any way. So naturally, Jim was wearing a kevlar vest and twenty kilos of weapons. Together with water. Rations.
was a real beast of burden.
"Over here," said Matthias, without getting into the entrance door of the stone structures. Jim
stopped and looked around. As far as he knew, nothing but dancing breakdance tarpaulins.
He took both weapons before entering. "Minimum acceptable? This was the perfect place for an investigation overwhelming. I had no idea he had done or that he had learned to justify an inquiry, but was clear about one thing ... there was no reason to run. If this was the "why" had been brought, about to go and find another two or three types of XOps to work on it while Matthias asked the questions. If he escaped? Just what would hunt all over the world, even if it cost weeks.
could explain why Isaac Rothe had appeared this afternoon with Matthias's protege and deputy leaders. That pair were born murderers, a pair of pitbuls ready to go for the throat of anyone.
Yes, this made sense and should have noticed before ... even if it did, there would be no escape from an accounting adjustment. Nobody came out of the XOps vivo. Neither operative nor the types of intelligence that they were excluded, nor the chiefs. Die with your boots on was how you lived ... I do not know what to attack. And the point was that he had been thinking of a way out. Killing people to live was all he could do, but I was starting pounding her head. Perhaps Matthias had somehow led to change.
Time to face the music, Jim thought as he passed through the doorway.
could also fight. Only
Matthias. No one else.
Jim arms slowly down the narrow space and studied again. According to their night vision goggles, was only the other man. With a flick the switch, changed the mode of heat vision. Nothing but Matthias. Yet.
- What? Asked Jim.
Matthias was in the far corner, about three feet away. When the man's hand emerged from the sidelines, Jim took his SIGs to the fire position ... but all that his boss did was shake his head and drop his weapons belt. A quick shake and lay on the sand.
And then stepped forward, opened his mouth and saying something under his breath ...
Light. Sound. Burst of energy.
Then ... nothing. Except a shower of sand and rubble.
* *
Jim regained consciousness some time later. The blast had thrown him against the stone wall, leaving him shaken, and seeing as it was numb, could have been out for a minute.
After a couple minutes of that-the-fuck, sat warily, wondering if he had anything broken ...
Across the road, there was a heap of rags which had once Matthias.
-Jesus Christ ... "Jim was repositioned the night-vision goggles and weapons recovered after crawled through the sand to his boss.
-Matthias ... oh, fucking outstanding ...
The bottom of the man's leg like a root that had been dug from the ground, the member nothing but a torn stump was crushed at the end. And there were dark patches on his uniform of campaign that had to be blood. Jim
checked the pulse in her neck. There was but it was weak and irregular.
He undid his belt and removed it, wrapped the leather around the top of the calf stretched Matthias and strong, making a tourniquet on the limb. Then quickly sought her ...
other shit. When Matthias had been shot down, had fallen on a wooden stake. The sentenced was passed through him like a stick to sausage kebabs. Jim
squirmed and tried to see if that could stand as he took out of here ... Matthias
seemed to be loose. Well.
- ... Dan ... ny ... ...
Jim boy frowned and looked at his boss.
- What? Matthias
's eyes widened as if his eyelids were steel shutters could barely lift.
"Let ... me.
"You shattered.
"Let me ..." Screw you, Jim reached out hand to its transmitter and prayed for Isaac, not the fan's second in command, responded. Faster ... faster ...
- What do you need? Let the soft-Southerner who came to his headset was good news.
Thank God for Isaac.
-Matthias has fallen. Pump. Make sure we do not target practice while we return to the field.
- What's wrong?
-Malo.
- Where are you? Send a Land Rover and will pick you up.
"We're at forty-six degrees n ...
The weapon exploded across the road, slid a ball through the air directly to the ear of Jim ... the end that he assumed that he had beaten in the head and the pain still had to be noticed. While resting on a palm, Matthias dropped her at his side SIG ... but who knew, Jim was not shot down by any kind of head wound. Warning shot, obviously.
The only eye of his boss who worked with a light shining
ruthless "Get out ... alive ...
Before Jim could say to Matthias to shut the fuck up, he realized that something was clicking the hand that had spread. Raising the matter, found ... part of the detonator of a bomb Giving
round and round, at first did not understand he was watching. Then
knew too well what it was. Focusing
Matthias eyes, put the piece in his front pocket and scrambled to his boss.
"Do not touch the ball with this," Jim said with determination. No fucking way. Matthias
began to babble just as the curses began to yell into the headset.
"I'm fine," said Jim Isaac. Failed. I'm going back to the camp. Make sure you do not shoot us when we approach.
The voice of southern instantly became strong and firm.
-Where are you. Go ...
-No. Keep talking. Find a doctor in the barracks and make sure to keep your mouth shut. And we need a helicopter. You will need to be airborne ... discreetly. No one can know this.
The last thing I needed was out looking for Isaac in the middle of the night. The guy was all there was between Jim and a charge that he had killed the head of the organization's most deadly hidden U.S. government
never survive that fall. Literally.
But at least the secret would not be in a news briefing. Keeping silent about the shit was the modus operandi in XOps ... no one knew exactly how many there were or where they were operating and what they did or whether they were appointed by their own names or an alias. "I hear Isaac
demanded. Give me what I need. Or you're dead.
-Roger-the mirror you get into the phone. Short and out.
After seizing the gun that had been used, Jim raised his head, sat and soaked dead weight on his shoulders, and started kicking.
Outside the stone hut. In windy and cold night. Through the sand dunes.
The compass pointed the way you live, towards the north and guiding you through the dark. No benchmarks have been completely lost when the desert was a ground reflected nothing a reflection of itself in all directions. Fucking
Matthias.
May God curse.
Moreover, assuming that the guy lived, Jim had given his ticket out of XOps ... somehow, I had to type his life. The bomb was one of hers and Matthias had known exactly where to put your foot on the sand. And that only happened if you wanted to blow your yourself.
supposed What Jim was not the only one who wanted to be free.
Surprise, surprise.
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