Khost
Page 41
She felt a sharp, piercing pain in her head. She knew this was it. It hadn’t been Ahmed, he wasn’t the leader of this rabble.
This thing was.
This blob of substance, this mush of flesh, and what appeared to be a mossy substance, stared at her, making no movement, attempting to get inside her head.
It was time, Elizabeth thought.
The thing snarled at her.
“Fuck you!” Elizabeth replied, staring at the monstrosity. She unzipped her pack, pulling out the bomb. It was eighteen inches long, cylindrical and shiny. She set it down, pushed a few buttons, crouched as she set the bomb.
Glancing back up, she looked at the thing. The blob of filth stared back. It couldn’t attack, it didn’t have the ability. Elizabeth pointed her MP5 at it, ready, just in case. She watched as the thing oozed, pulling itself into a crevice like a slug, fully aware of what was happening.
Elizabeth didn’t know how it knew, or how she knew the thing knew what was happening. Something overcame her, and she knew what was happening. The creature, the blob that was once Ahmed Massoud’s sister, was calling to them.
Not in words. No sounds.
It still called.
And the creatures answered her beckoning, turning and sprinting deep inside the cave.
“Come on in,” Elizabeth welcomed, her attention back to the bomb.
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Thompson and York fired. They were running low on ammo. They knew their time was up. Then, one of the creatures leapt from a mighty distance, landing in front of them. They hardly had time to react. The thing, male, was massive, red skinned with a wide mouth. He had a large head, massive hands. He seemed to smile. And it had a distinct scar running down its face.
Ahmed.
What once was a famous Mujahideen warrior stood in front of the two members of The Unit. With all its might, it swung its hand, crashing across the two men, dropping them to the ground.
York went out, his head hitting a rock, blood leaking out.
Thompson, dazed, looked up. His jaw was broken, his arm twisted. He tried to stand, but Ahmed was atop him. The creature smashed, bit, gouged at the Delta member, and in a violent struggle Thompson did his best. Having his rifle flung aside, the man pulled a knife, stabbing violently, only seeming to irritate the creature.
And in one final motion, Ahmed slashed his long nails across Thompson’s chest, ripping it open.
The creature then leaned down, teeth chomping, and feasted upon Thompson.
Dale Comstock saw the horror, saw his friend die, and raced in. Rage consumed him, and he would kill this thing or die trying.
As he ran forward, Rivers began to follow. After two steps he heard a muffled scream, Turning, he saw three of the younger ones, white skin, caked in blood. They were atop Svetlana, biting at her, tearing her apart.
“Oh my God!” Rivers shouted.
He rushed in. They were too close for him to fire. Instead, he took the butt of his AK-47, bashing one across the head, knocking it off. He did the same to the second, it, too, falling to the ground. The third beast raised its head up. Dripping from the creature’s mouth was the freshly bitten flesh of the beautiful Svetlana.
Rivers screamed, fired, exploding the monster’s chest wide open. He turned, emptying his magazine into the other two, ensuring their deaths.
Rivers reloaded, did a quick sweep, looking for more. Strangely, the beasts were running away, pulling past him as if not noticing his presence. Rivers looked down, kneeling, eyes wide.
“Svetlana . . .” he whispered.
She gurgled, spitting up blood. “Jeff.”
“It’s okay, darling. We’re going to get you out. It’s okay,” he lied.
But Svetlana was too far gone, taking her last breath, she looked up, staring into Jeff’s eyes, grateful for his image being the last she’d ever see. “Did we do it?” she asked. “Did we get them?”
“We did, darling. Now you hang in there.”
“Good,” Svetlana whispered.
Then, Svetlana took three last gasps.
She died with Rivers clutching her hand.
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Dale opened fire, pumping a fully loaded magazine into Ahmed’s chest. Blood spattered, and as Dale reloaded, the creature leapt away. It didn’t retreat, instead running to the side. It was not over for the creature yet.
Dale reloaded, then saw three more coming straight at him. He fired, killing the beasts with perfect head shots. Kneeling down, he touched Thompson’s dead body. A tear formed in his eye, but he accepted it quickly. He was a professional, and would mourn later. He turned to York. The man was alive, still breathing.
More came, and Dale stayed knelt over York, protecting the fallen man, killing more creatures. He saw, just as Rivers did, that the majority rushed off. Running farther into the cave. A few remained, perhaps out of loyalty to Ahmed, perhaps simple blood-lust. He fired, again and again until they were dead.
*
Rivers stood up, knowing he couldn’t do anything for the beautiful Svetlana. He swept his AK-47, killing two more. Searching, moving, he scanned the massive chamber. He saw Dale, the two fallen men. No sign of Clements or Jefferson, Rivers knew their fate.
Jeff Rivers’ eyes widened. The creature that once was Ahmed appeared from nowhere, back to Rivers, creeping up behind Dale. The creature’s massive claws reached for the man, holding out his long arms, stepping closer.
Rivers held his AK-47 up, taking aim.
He squeezed the trigger.
Nothing.
He was out of ammo.
“No!” Rivers shouted. He pulled the rifle from his shoulder, flinging it aside. He reached to his belt, pulling out a long knife and ran forward.
Rivers had a score to settle.
Dale was busy with the few remaining creatures, firing into a mass that attempted to exit the chamber, trying to flee. He killed as many as he could, satisfied they might have a chance.
Little did he know, Ahmed was behind him, raising his arm, beginning to swing his razor claws.
“Hey you son of a bitch!” Rivers shouted.
It was just enough. The creature that was once Ahmed turned, tilting his head, staring in disbelief at the human racing toward him. The creature glared, ready for a fight.
But Rivers was fast. Angry. Filled with rage. The two came together like two wild animals. Rivers stabbed and slashed. The creature did the same. They fought to the death, an epic battle of man versus monster.
In a fatal stroke, Rivers slashed across the creature’s wide throat, exposing it. Ahmed gurgled. Then, Rivers stabbed forward, pushing his blade deep into the beast’s eye.
The creature fell, violently shaking, gasping as its days of horror ended. What was once Ahmed soon took his last breath, ending over two decades of hell. Finding peace in the next life.
And Rivers looked down in triumph, staring at the dead beast, then looking down to his own bloody body. He dropped the knife, eyes looking up as Dale Comstock turned, staring in awe.
Rivers fell to the ground and all went dark.
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Elizabeth waited. She was patient as she heard the hoard approach. Closer and closer, she kept her eyes on the sole entrance, then back to the female thing that moved deeper into the rock.
Finally, moments later, the first band of creatures entered the chamber.
“Well, hello there,” she said with a smile.
*
Dale checked the chamber. There were none left. Only carnage, only death. He swung his rifle to the side, grabbing York by the shirt and dragging him. Moments later he reached Rivers. Delta One checked his pulse. Hollywood One—Jeff Rivers—was alive.
Barely.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Dale exclaimed. The man pulled with all his might, dragging the two men as fast as he could. He moved them from the chamber, rounding a corner, heading back the way they came. With some anger and adrenaline and love for his men, Dale pulled the two safely to the long corr
idor that led up. The tunnel that led to their escape.
He jumped as something touched his shoulder. Turning to fight, Dale stopped in his tracks.
It was Reynolds.
“We gotta move,” the Marine said, reaching down and grabbing York, easing Dale’s burden.
“I’ve got to see about the rest. My team . . .” Dale began.
“No time. Elizabeth ordered us out.”
“Fuck that! They might still be alive.”
But Reynolds grabbed him, holding him back. “She’s here.”
“Say again?”
“Hotel Bravo—Elizabeth. She’s in the cave. She has a bomb. That’s why these things took off. They must . . . they must know there’s a threat. This is our chance.”
“But my team!”
“You’re under orders, Sergeant,” Reynolds said.
“What about Elizabeth?”
“Sergeant Comstock, I believe this was a one way trip for her. Now let’s move out.”
Reluctantly, Dale obeyed, grabbing Rivers and pulling him up the long incline. As fast as the two men could move, they pulled Delta Seven and Hollywood One from the cave.
*
The creatures filled the room, surrounding Elizabeth. She heard their screams, saw as they gathered around her for the feast. They chomped and snarled and bellowed and Elizabeth knew this was it. She had done this to save the love of her life—Jeff Rivers.
She had done this for her team.
She had done this because it needed to be done, and Elizabeth looked back to the melting creature, the one whom the creatures attempted to guard, and smiled.
“Well, it’s you and I now. You see, you might be a bitch, but I’m a Hot Bitch, and I have a surprise for you,” Elizabeth said.
The creature screamed out.
The others lunged forward.
And Elizabeth reached down, finger gently pushing a button. As she did, she looked at them saying, “Mission accomplished.”
And as the creatures pounced, the bomb counted down.
3 . . .
2 . . .
1.
117
Rivers woke for a moment. He had lost a lot of blood, could hardly see. To his surprise, the sun was rising. They were outside, in the valley, away from the cave.
He looked up, seeing Dale.
“What . . . what happened?” Rivers asked.
“We did it,” Dale said, his voice grim, serious. “Elizabeth saved us, Jeff. She saved us,” he repeated.
“What do you mean?” Rivers asked, not sure if he heard him correctly.
“She went in, Jeff. She set off a bomb. She saved our lives.”
“No!” Jeff screamed out, attempting to rise. But Colonel Reynolds rushed over, holding him down. Rivers was too weak to fight, falling back to the sand. “Elizabeth,” he shouted. “Where’s Elizabeth?”
“I don’t know,” Reynolds admitted. “We’ve lost transmission.”
“I must . . . I have to go get her.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Reynolds commanded. And despite Rivers’ struggles, he was too weak. He glanced once more at the cave, now in the distance, and fell back into darkness.
Reynolds grabbed Rivers and York, heaving them up on his wide shoulders, and began moving them farther. The village was near, and soon he’d reach the other side of the canyon. He pushed hard, breathing heavy, taking this last chance and hoping the bomb had done its job.
Finally, after a few minutes, Reynolds gently put the two men back down. He was exhausted, needed a break. He was far enough away, and didn’t think there were any creatures near.
What remained of the team had escaped.
Breathing in deep breaths, he turned to Comstock, who had been covering their retreat.
But Dale wasn’t there.
Appalled, Reynolds scanned the valley.
Where was he?
He kept looking.
Where was Sergeant Comstock?
Finally, Reynolds saw a lone figure in the distance. As smoke flickered from the cave opening, the lone warrior moved up the trail, and Reynolds watched as Dale Comstock neared the cave once more.
Then, Colonel Reynolds heard a garbled sound, a final transmission . . .
“This is Delta One. I’m going back into the cave.”
Reynolds nodded his head, muttering to himself, “We never leave a man behind.”
“As I know combat, it is long periods of foreboding and solemn thoughts of home, punctuated by moments of stark terror.”
—Dale Comstock
For more information about the author, please visit:
www.VincentHobbes.com
Table of Contents
Copyright
Acknowledgement
Dedication
CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY time:1500 hours zulu
KHOST 1984 Soviet/Afghanistan Conflict Khost Province
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KHOST 2010 United States/Afghanistan Conflict Khost Province
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CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY time:2230 hours zulu
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