Deadly Eleven

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Deadly Eleven Page 222

by Mark Tufo


  Home.

  Home? Yes, home. As much as he hated to finally admit it to himself, she was home. Home wasn’t a place, it was her. It didn’t matter if he lived on the island or if he was working at the hangar, where Nadia was, he would be. He had to be home.

  But first, he had to complete one last mission.

  Laura entered the hangar and found Matt helping the squad pack gear into different crates and go-bags. They separated it into different areas for different threats and although the teams were always ready, in times like these, when threats were imminent, they would check and double check that everything was right. No soldier wanted to risk their gear failing them in the field. It was make-work, but it was a necessary evil.

  She approached him tentatively, unsure of his reaction. When he noticed her, he stood tall, his face solemn. Matt seemed honestly troubled. He turned to Laura, away from the squads, even though they would eventually hear of Franklin’s ‘exposure’ he hoped to keep their part of it from them. “I truly hoped that he wouldn’t remember. I hoped that he would never use it,” he said softly.

  Laura looked away, shaking her head. “We shouldn’t have left the USB drive with him, Matt. He eventually would have, you know it.”

  “Laura, we went over this,” Matt sighed. “I had hoped he would have the sense to check it first and realize we had something on him. That he would back down…”

  “We knew his psych profile suggested that he wouldn’t do that, though. Evan even told us that his personality type would preclude such action,” she argued.

  Matt sighed. “You’re right.” He stared off through the open doors. “You’re right. Whatever comes of this will be on my head.”

  One of Matt’s butter-bar lieutenants approached him. “Colonel, you have a priority call. You can take it there.” He pointed to a phone near a workbench.

  Matt went to the bench and picked up the phone. “Mitchell.”

  Senator Franklin spoke quietly into the phone, “You aren’t answering your cell, Mitchell. Is that your way of being insubordinate?”

  Matt pulled his cell out and glanced at it. Dead. “Apologies, Senator. I forgot to charge it…”

  “Doesn’t matter now, does it, asshole?!” he snarled.

  “Excuse me?” Matt tried to play stupid, but he knew he had it coming.

  “Don’t play coy with me, Mitchell. You may have won the battle, but you’re going to lose the war. There’s a blood bath coming and you will drown in it! Mark my words, Mitchell. I was the only thing that could have saved humanity and you just…” Franklin paused and Matt could hear something hit the phone. “You just caused the fucking apocalypse!” There was a blast across the phone line followed by another sound that Matt couldn’t make out. The line didn’t go dead, but he couldn’t quite hear. The full strength of the shotgun blast that took off Senator Franklin’s head wasn’t carried across the line, but Matt knew a gun blast when he heard it.

  He set the phone line down. “Trace that call and alert EMS to that address!” he yelled to his Lieutenant.

  “Matt, what happened?” Laura asked.

  “I think Franklin just shot himself,” Matt said.

  Laura paled.

  This was their doing.

  Jack pulled up alongside the hangar and noticed the double doors at the front were standing open. May as well make a grand entrance, he thought. He could see what appeared to be two full squads checking and packing gear. Just another day preparing for the muck.

  The two guards normally assigned outside the hangar weren’t posted outside the door. Normal when both squads are topside. Jack rolled up and inside the front area of the hangar. He stopped the engine and opened the door. He clipped his P90 back to his vest, grabbed his duffle and shut the door.

  “Who does this clown think he is?” Wallace asked, nudging Spanky. They couldn’t quite make out the figure in the black SUV at the far end of the hangar, but they both knew he had made a huge mistake rolling up on their turf like he owned the place.

  Spanky whistled to Apollo and gave a motion to the front doors. Apollo stepped from around the Humvee and instantly his hackles rose. Somebody was about to get an ass-whoopin! Apollo bowed up and started stepping toward the unknown intruder. The other squad members fell in.

  Colonel Mitchell stepped out in front of the squads just as the door to the SUV closed and Jack turned around to face the incoming squads with the colonel in front of them. Just as he had figured, all of the contingencies he had planned on the island and during his drive here went right out the window. The best laid plans of mice and men…and shit.

  Jack strode up toward the teams until they noticed who he was and they stopped. The new members had no clue, but he realized that the Colonel didn’t seem surprised at all that he was alive.

  “Chief Petty Officer Jack Thompson, reporting for duty, sir.” Jack snapped off a salute.

  “Who the fuck is this guy?” Lamb asked.

  Apollo broke into a toothy grin. “Phoenix, you son-of-a-bitch!” He practically ran up to bear hug him.

  Jack grunted as Apollo lifted him from the ground and the original Monster Squad members surrounded him to welcome him back. Colonel Mitchell held his ground. The new members of the Monster Squad surrounded the Colonel. “Who is this guy, sir?”

  “A dead man.”

  When the original clamor was over at Jack’s resurrection from the dead, he approached Mitchell. “You’re not happy to see me, sir?”

  “Thompson, we have to follow protocol. You know that.” Neither man smiled.

  Jack nodded. “I expected as much.”

  Mitchell nodded at the guards who quickly approached Jack. “Yeah, yeah. Give me a minute.” He unhooked his P90 and handed it to one of them. “Careful with that. It’s loaded. Might put an eye out.” He pulled his FiveseveN from its holster and handed it to the other one. “Easy there, buster. That’s a real one. No airsofting with that or somebody goes home in a body bag.” He pulled his magazines from the various pouches and pockets and handed them to his squad mates. “Here, you guys can probably use these.”

  He looked up at Apollo again. “Damn it’s good to see your ugly mug again, you brute.” He punched him in the arm, “I can’t believe looking at you would be refreshing.”

  “Believe it,” Sanchez said with a smirk.

  “Yours?” Jack asked.

  “Damned straight, baby.” Apollo grinned again.

  “I’m nobody’s’,” Sanchez reminded him.

  “That’s right!” Apollo quickly corrected. “I’m her bitch,” he whispered.

  Jack laughed. “Sweet, bro.”

  “Ahem,” Mitchell interrupted. “Protocol, Jack.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jack said, sobering. “Lead the way. I live to serve. Ask and I shall obey. Waggle the carrot and this ass will follow. I’d say some more, but I’ve been driving all night and I really got to pee.”

  “Needless to say, we have a lot of questions, son.”

  “Oh, we definitely have a lot to talk about, sir,” Jack said, giving the Colonel a knowing look. “A lot to discuss.”

  “It sounds like there’s a few things on your mind, chief.”

  “You don’t know the half of it, Skipper.” Jack reverted to his nickname for the Colonel from the early days and Matt did a double take. Skipper being the Navy term for most boat captains and Jack being a Navy SEAL, he often called his CO that as a term of affection. This time, Matt knew it wasn’t meant that way.

  “Anything I should know offhand before we get started?”

  “There’s a war, sir. And we’re stuck in the middle of it. We’re all being played, Skipper… by both sides.”

  “Really?” Matt said disbelievingly.

  “Oh, yeah,” Jack said. “There’s a shit-storm coming. A war like we’ve never seen before and God Himself only knows how many people will pay because of it. What you decide today may very well tip the scales of that war.”

  The elevator doors opened and Matt dismis
sed the guards so that he could address Jack alone. “Just what do you know, soldier?”

  “Everything.”

  About the Author

  Heath Stallcup was born in Salinas, California and relocated to Tupelo, Oklahoma in his tween years. He joined the US Navy and was stationed in Charleston, SC and Bangor, WA shortly after junior college. After his second tour he attended East Central University where he obtained BS degrees in Biology and Chemistry. He then served ten years with the State of Oklahoma as a Compliance and Enforcement Officer while moonlighting nights and weekends with his local Sheriff's Office. He still lives in the small township of Tupelo, Oklahoma with his wife and three of his seven children. He steals time to write between household duties, going to ballgames, being a grandfather to five and being the pet of numerous animals that have taken over his home. Visit his site at heathstallcup.com or at Facebook.com for news of his upcoming releases.

  * * *

  From the desk of Heath Stallcup

  A personal note-

  Thank you so much for investing your time in reading my story. If you enjoyed it, please take a moment and leave a review. I realize that it may be an inconvenience, but reviews mean the world to authors…

  Also, I love hearing from my readers. You can reach me at my blog: http://heathstallcup.com/ or via email at [email protected]

  Feel free to check out my Facebook page for information on upcoming releases: https://www.facebook.com/heathstallcup find me on Twitter at @HeathStallcup, Goodreads .

  My stories so far:

  The Monster Squad Series

  The first saga:

  * * *

  Humanity has spent its time enjoying a peace that can only be had through blissful ignorance. For centuries, stories of things that go “bump” in the night have been passed down and shared. When creatures of the night proved to be real, the best of America’s military came together to form an elite band of rapid response teams. Their mission: to keep the civilian populace safe from those threats and hide all evidence of their existence.

  This time, they face the largest threat ever to rise against mankind as it prepares its own twisted Apocalypse. The only thing standing in its way is the Monster Squad. Man and monster will fight side by side in an epic battle to the death to try to defeat an evil so great, it could only have been created by the hand of God Himself.

 

 

 


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