Because of You: Covert OPS 1

by Kymber Jones

  As Chrys made her way to the DJ, she reached out and picked up a microphone, testing it to make sure it was working correctly.

  “Are you sure you’re not going to need the words up on the screen?” The DJ asked Chrys.

  “No, I won’t need the words. I appreciate it, though.” She said, smiling.

  “It’s not the usual way I do things, but the phone is hooked up for the conference call. Everyone is ready to start playing, and I have it set to be amplified; that way, you can sing along with the music. The people on the other end will also do backup vocals for you.”

  “Great. Thanks.” She said, then asked everyone on the phone, “Can all of you guys hear me?”

  “We can hear you Love.” One of the men said.

  “How are you doing, Girlie?” Another of the men asked.

  “I’m doing good. How are you guys?”

  “We’re doing great. So we’re going to have an impromptu show tonight, is that right?” A third man asked.

  “Yes, and I appreciate you all helping me out with this. So I guess we’ll play Sweet, Free, Simple, Gimme, and Tuesday’s. How does that sound to everyone?”

  “We can go ahead and do that.” The first man said.

  “Sure sounds good. We haven’t had a jam session in a while.” The third man said.

  “Let’s do this. Let’s give these people something they won’t forget anytime soon.” The second man laughed.

  “Alright.” Chrys turned back to the DJ. “Can you please turn the amplification up now?”

  “Sure thing. Okay, folks, we’re doing something a little different right now. Miss Chrys will sing a few songs with the help of some friends playing the actual music for her. The first song is going to be her version of Sweet Home Alabama.”

  Everyone in the bar started rolling their eyes and making comments about leaving some songs alone; that listening to them be trashed once in a night was more than enough.

  “Hello, Sierra Vista!” Chrys shouted. “Now, I know there are just some songs that shouldn’t be messed with and that only the masters should be allowed to touch them, but if you just give me the benefit of the doubt here, I think you’ll be pleased with these songs. You see, I have been to so many places, and so far, almost everyone has the same reaction. There’s no way this slip of a girl can do justice to the all-time great, Lynyrd Skynyrd. And every time I leave that place, we’re rocking the house down. So that’s what I want to do tonight. We’re going to start with some Skynyrd, then do a couple of AC/DC, and I was thinking of closing with a Seether song. But if anyone wants a country song or two thrown in, then please let me know, and I’ll play that one too.”

  “What the fuck do you mean play?” One of the patrons shouted, demanding to know.

  Chrys just flashed him a smile, saying, “And a one, and a two, and a three….”

  Suddenly the room filled with what sounded like live guitars and drums, but no one saw where the music came from. Then before anyone knew what was about to happen, Chrys began belting out Sweet Home Alabama in such a way she brought tears to one person’s eyes. When she came to the chorus, the men singing backup came on, surprising everyone, a few of them shouting it’s Lynyrd Skynyrd singing with her. By the time she finished the song, everyone in the bar was on their feet dancing to the music, waving their drinks in the air.

  “Okay,” Chrys said, picking up her drink and taking a sip. “So, how did I do?”

  “How the fuck did you get Lynyrd Skynyrd to sing with you?” Someone shouted.

  One of the men on the phone laughed.

  “Thank you for the compliment, but we’re not Lynyrd Skynyrd. We’re part of a band called the Silver Dollar Band. We’re all Soldiers and Vets. We sing with the crazy girl you have in front of you. You should count yourselves lucky tonight because it usually costs the public anywhere from $30 to $250 or more to get into one of her shows. Now, I think the Brat is anxious for us to start playing some songs again. We're going to continue with Free Bird, Gimme Three Steps, and Tuesday’s Gone out of our Skynyrd lineup.”

  After Free Bird ended, Chrys walked over to her table, pulled Sven up from his chair, then turned to Lamar and said, “Alright, Cisco, it’s your turn tonight!”

  Lamar paled even in the room’s dim lights causing everyone around him to laugh.

  “I don’t….” He began only to be cut off.

  “You’ll be fine,” Chrys smiled. “You’ve seen this plenty of times; Pryce isn’t here.”

  “Really?” A female called out, standing next to the exit. “You should pay closer attention to your surroundings Bitch! Now get the fuck away from my man!”

  Chrys’s head jerked toward the exit, her mouth dropping open. “Fuck me,” she muttered.

  “You’re not that lucky.” Pryce snarled. “Now, step the fuck away from him before I shove this gun up your scrawny ass.”

  Walking over to Chrys, a young, relatively tall woman with long blondish brown hair pulled out a plastic Beretta M9A that looked very realistic if one didn’t know what they were looking at.

  Quickly Chrys stood up straight and stepped into Pryce as she invaded her space. Without a word, Chrys leaned forward until her face was so close one couldn’t tell the two weren’t kissing unless they were standing right next to them.

  “It’s about damn time you showed up,” Chrys muttered softly.

  “Like I’d miss a chance to fuck up Salvatore. Now, let’s give these bastards a show they won’t ever forget.” Pryce smiled almost evilly.

  “Gladly.” Chrys laughed, pushing away from Pryce but instantly turned to look around when she felt someone put a hand on her shoulders and shove her away from Pryce, leading into the following enactment.

  “What the hell?!” Chrys cried as she landed on the floor. “Cisco! What the hell was that for?” Chrys demanded, looking up at the guy that shoved her down, making everything look extremely real.

  “I knew you had feelings for Pryce!” Cisco practically screamed. “How could you?!” He demanded. “She’s supposed to be MY girlfriend! Not yours!”

  “She’s not my girlfriend!” Chrys denied. “Where the hell would you get that idea? Huh,” She wanted to know, though she did not attempt to stand up and face him the way she usually would, for there in his hands was a .44 Magnum, and he held the gun without the slightest tremble.

  The next thing everyone heard was the opening of the song “Gimme Three Steps,” as Chrys kept trying to pull away and make her way to the door. Only Chrys was pulled back by Pryce when Cisco waved his gun at Chrys a second time. This time she managed to take three giant steps towards the establishment’s door, pulling Pryce with her and beginning a verse by verse reenactment that had the crowd cheering for more.

  By the end of the Lynyrd Skynyrd set, Chrys’s throat was beginning to feel a bit raw, but she would swear the excitement that was flowing through the crowd was practically a living being in her blood.

  As soon as she completed the song she was singing, Chrys went to her table and picked up her drink, sipping the last of it up as if she were a vacuum. “Damn,” she muttered, then said, “Okay, folks! We’re going to do one more song for everyone then we’ll be turning the mic back over to all of you. I’m thrilled we’ve been able to play here like this, though I have to say it’s a first that we’ve been playing through our phones. We usually end our eighteen and over concerts with AC/DC’s Pour Some Sugar on Me but given where we are, that song doesn’t seem appropriate. However, they have another appropriate song, and it goes like this. Guys, could you play our second favorite, please?”

  Everyone in JR’s looked around at each other, trying to figure out what Chrys and Pryce were going to do. Right from the start, they were nothing but one surprise after another. Pryce was at the bar counter talking to Bret, who just nodded at her and smiled, then began pulling out several different types of beers, then began pouring about a dozen shots of each of the drinks on the shelves behind him.

  While Pryce was busy with
Bret and the drinks, the instant sound of Have a Drink on Me blared throughout the bar, and Chrys was singing at the top of her lungs, even louder than any previous time. When the lyrics of the song title were sung for the first time, Chrys jumped up on her table and pointed to the bar, showing everyone in the crowd there were drinks about to be served. They were just waiting for the right time.

  By the time the intermission came on, Pryce and Bret had the drinks lined up and ready to go. Pryce swung herself up on top of the bar next to the drinks and shouted, “Hey! Everyone come and get the last drink you had! Then hold them up above your heads!”

  Quickly everyone made a beeline over to the drinks and tried to just grab a drink closest to them, ignoring Pryce’s instructions, pissing Pryce off to no end. God, she hated immature brats!

  “Enough!” Pryce shouted. “Stand in two lines, right here in front of me. Tell us what you had, and we’ll give you your drink since you can’t act like an adult and just get the last drink you had without getting into a jam. So, two lines, right here, now.”

  Once the crowd was in the two lines, the drinks were handed out quickly. Everyone got the last drink they had ordered and a new drink, a more specialty drink.

  “Now,” Pryce shouted. “Those of you that just grabbed a drink come back up in line and get your second drink. We didn’t forget about you.”

  The first few people that grabbed their drinks went back up to the bar and stood in line, this time waiting somewhat patiently for Bret and Pryce to hand out their specialty drink.

  When everyone had their drinks, Pryce turned to Bret and made sure he had his drink as well. “You ready to end the night?”

  Bret laughed. “I think I can handle closing down the night.”

  Pryce chuckled. “We’ll see about that. Come on, pick up your drinks and let’s shut this place down. You can watch your girl really in action.”

  Bret’s face took on a hue color. “My girl? What makes you think she’s my girl?”

  Pryce huffed. “Please. We all have eyes. We can see how you’re all googly-eyed for her. So, let’s do this, and then you can see about making your move, Romeo.”

  “I think you’re mistaken. Especially since she’s with the behemoth at their table.”

  “I love that!” Pryce laughed. “Sven is a behemoth. But Chrys is not with him. They’re practically siblings more than anything else.”

  “Really,” Bret questioned, though it came out more like a statement.

  “Don’t worry, Chrys doesn’t realize you’re interested in her. She is, however, very interested in you.”

  Bret looked at Pryce as if she was crazy.

  “What?!” Pryce asked. “You can’t see how she’s been watching you the entire night? I’m just waiting for the guys to take notice and try and put a stop to this going anywhere.”

  “Well, it’s not going anywhere since I haven’t even really met her yet.”

  Pryce snorted. “Yeah, right. You keep telling yourself that, boyo. Now raise your glasses. She’s starting up again.”

  The intermission ended. Chrys picked the song “Have a Drink on Me” back up, and the next time the song title came on, she slammed one of the two drinks next to her, followed shortly by the last drink once she finished singing the song.

  “Phew!” Chrys called out. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m about beat. I don’t know if it’s the singing, the drinks, the fun company, or all of the above, but it’s enough to wear a person out if they’re not careful. Now, I think we’ve taken enough of your time, and we’re going to let you go back to your karaoke. I appreciate you letting us commandeer the stage for the time we did, we had a blast, and I hope all of you had fun too! Maybe we can talk Fort Huachuca or Sierra Vista into letting us play here one of these nights coming up. What would you all think about that?”

  Everyone started yelling their answers. “Hell yeah” and “Fuck yeah” seemed to be the loudest among all the responses shouted, causing Chrys to smile.

  “Well, I can’t promise anything, but we’ll see what we can do. Thank you all for the fun night. You all continue to have fun. Boys, you want to go, or do you want to hang out with these people some more?”

  “I think we’d like to hang out a bit more if the people there don’t mind. If they have a song they’d like to sing, they can let us know what it is, and we’ll play the music for them. All they have to do is look at the lyrics. How does that sound?”

  The room went ballistic. Everyone cheered, the glasses on the bar practically shaking.

  Laughing, Chrys said, “Mike, I think you got your answer. You boys have fun. I’ll talk with you in a couple of days. Thank you for this. You guys are the best. Love you!”

  “We love you too, Brat. Take care. Now, who’s up for the first song?” Mike asked the crowd.

  Chrys shook her head as she jumped down off the table and stood next to her family.

  “Okay,” she said. “I think I can use a soda now. Could someone get me something that has no caffeine, please? I’m going to call Uncle Tate and Uncle Jack real fast just to check in with them for the night. I’ll be right back.”

  “Sure, love,” Captain Hopkins told her.

  “Thanks.”

  Chrys turned and walked quickly out of the bar, pulling her phone out of her back pocket and hitting the speed dial button to call Tate.

  When Tate’s phone went to voicemail, Chrys left a short message telling him she was just checking in one last time for the night then hung up.

  Immediately Chrys called Jack after Tate and left a message for him when she realized someone was walking up to her as quietly as they could.

  Chrys continued to speak into the phone even after the voicemail beeped, indicating she ran out of time. As she was about to hang up, a young man stepped up next to Chrys and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “Hey Sexy, whatcha doing out here by yourself?” He asked Chrys.

  “Excuse me?” Chrys snapped, jerking away.

  “Come on, don’t be like that.” He ran a hand down the side of Chrys’s face. “What do you say the two of us get out of here and go have some fun?”

  “How about you stop touching me and keep your hands to yourself?”

  “How about you stop acting like a stuck-up bitch and show me how much you love being in this town.”

  “Look, I already told you to stop touching me once. It won’t be a good idea if someone found you out here harassing me like this. Especially after I told you to stop touching me a second time, now take your goddamn hand off of me. NOW!”

  “What do you think you can do about it? Huh?” The guy demanded, slamming Chrys against the back of JR’s, her head bouncing off the brick wall.

  “Fuck!” Chrys practically screamed as her head started to clear.

  Talk about migraine from Hell. Tomorrow was going to be a complete bitch, Chrys thought, and she was pretty sure she wasn’t going to want to get out of bed for the next couple of days if she could help it. Not with the bump she could already feel on the back of her head.

  When she saw how much time had passed with her dazed, Chrys realized the guy was trying to remove her pants.

  “Stop!” Chrys shouted at him.

  “Shut up bitch! You’ll be singing a different song in a minute; just watch.”

  “Hey, get the fuck….” Bret, the bartender, shouted as he was running up to the guy assaulting Chrys.

  Before either one knew what hit him, the guy on top of Chrys was on the ground screaming in pain. His right leg was bent from where she kicked him, and his head was gushing blood.

  As the guy grabbed the right side of his head, Chrys spat a chunk of something out onto the ground.

  When Bret stepped up to Chrys, he moved her hair out of her face to help see anything wrong he needed to help treat before the ambulance arrived.

  Helping Chrys away from her assailant, Bret noticed what she spat out was the guy’s ear. Not a piece of his ear but his entire ear. It was completely ripped
off his head.

  Looking at Chrys in surprise, Bret thought back to when she said she just got her pins. At first, he thought Chrys was just joking around, but now Bret wondered if Chrys wasn’t telling him the truth. Biting the ear off of your opponent is a tactic you learn in close hand-to-hand fighting if all else is failing and you are running out of moves. And they tell you to take the entire thing, not just a part, just the way Chrys did.

  “Are you okay?” Bret asked her.

  “My head hurts like Hell. I feel like I want to throw up, but I’m fine.” Chrys said. “Or, I will be after I get some sleep. I need to call the police, though, so I can press charges.”

  “They’re on the way. I already called them when I saw what he was doing.”

  “You saw?” Chrys was surprised.

  “We have cameras all over the premises. I happened to look at them and saw what was happening. I had someone stay with the bar and came here. The police were called at the same time.”

  “Thank you. But I still need to let my family know what happened, too. They’re going to want to kill this bastard.”

  “Where did you learn that move?” Bret wanted to know.

  “Which one?”

  “Removing his ear?”

  “Oh. Training. They taught it to everyone, but the instructors thought it would serve me the most if I ever got in such a position to need it. I guess they were right.”

  “What training was that?”

  “Ranger, SEAL’s, RECON, Pararescue, and Special Forces.”

  “Pararescue. Parajumpers, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You graduated from each of the Special Ops Training?”

  “I’m the only female to do so. I just finished my Ranger training.”

  “Holy shit,” Bret swore. “Chrys. Crystalline Hopkins. I should have put the name together. What the Hell are you doing in Sierra Vista of all places?”

  “I’m here for work. Look, I can talk shop later. Right now, I need something for my head. It’s killing me.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. Give me a second; let me call someone out here to help.”