O-Dark-Hundred

by Holly Copella

  “Darth,” he announced and gave a nod. “Find Monroe.”

  The dog ran from the woods and onto the beach. Gil finished grabbing whatever weapons he could find and yanked his Bowie knife from the man’s neck. He wiped the bloodied blade on the man’s uniform and then headed for the beach.

  †

  Monroe looked behind him with concern while speeding through the water. A speedboat chased after him as one man fired nearly silent shots from his semiautomatic. The water near Monroe exploded, alerting him to the shots fired. He swerved several times in a serpentine formation to avoid the gunfire. Had the man been holding an assault rifle, he’d be an easy target, but it was obvious they were attempting to keep the noise level to a minimum. The speedboat successfully kept him from reaching the resort beach, confirming the notion that they didn’t want any of the guests alerted to the attack. They had weapons and a faster ride. It was only a matter of time before they’d get off a lucky shot or ram him with their speedboat.

  Monroe saw Gil run onto the beach behind Darth. Despite his speed and sudden direction changes, Monroe was able to make out the gun Gil held in his hand. Gil aimed the gun, but he had no shot with their distance from the beach. Monroe had to get the bad guys closer to the beach in order for Gil to take his shot. As Monroe maneuvered the water bike in an effort to change direction, the speedboat circled and kept him from getting closer to his friend. Monroe’s only advantage was a smaller craft with better banking abilities. He headed for some rocks, which the boat immediately passed him and cut off his path, as he anticipated. Monroe circled away from them as the speedboat now skirted the rock formation and started to circle back.

  Monroe headed straight for their broadside at maximum speed. The man standing in the boat fired at him while Monroe counted.

  “Two, one,” Monroe said to himself then grinned. “And reload.”

  The man ejected his magazine and slammed in a new one. Monroe jumped down hard on the water bike, causing it to leap through the air at the boat while he dove off the back. The driver and the shooter saw the water bike coming for them and instantly panicked. The driver attempted to speed forward but sideswiped a rock. The shooter cried out as the water bike landed on top of him within the boat and crushed him. Monroe surfaced, shook the water from his head, and looked around. The driver attempted to circle the speedboat despite the crashed water bike and a gaping hole on its starboard side. He drove the boat straight for Monroe where he bobbed in the water.

  “Oh, shit!”

  Monroe dove underwater. Gil ran along the rock formation taking him further into the ocean and bringing him closer to the action. He stopped on one of the larger rocks, took aim, and fired the entire magazine into the water bike sticking out of the boat. There was a tremendous explosion, tearing the speedboat apart. It only burned a moment before sinking into the water. Monroe again surfaced and watched the boat sink only a few yards from him. He looked at Gil standing on the rocks with the semiautomatic in his hand and gave him a thumbs-up. Gil ran along the rocks as Monroe swam to shore. Monroe stumbled onto the beach and half collapsed on the sand. Darth ran to him and licked his face. He scratched the dog’s scruff then used him as a crutch to get his legs under him. Gil joined him, grabbed his arm through the wetsuit, and hurried him toward the woods.

  “What’s the hurry?” Monroe announced.

  “Someone may have heard that explosion,” Gil informed him as both took refuge in the wooded area just beyond the beach.

  Monroe was about to comment when he saw the dead man in camouflage with blood on the ground surrounding him. “Well, this is one fucked up resort.” He then eyed Gil. “Did we get too close to the head honcho’s mansion?”

  “I’d like to believe it was that simple,” Gil replied while looking around as he reloaded the semiautomatic. “Right before I was ambushed, I heard rifle fire deep within the island.”

  Monroe stared at him with concern then cocked his head. “You mean in the direction our team had gone?”

  “Possibly,” he replied. “The radios don’t work.”

  “The only person who knew where we were going was Corbin,” Monroe remarked then turned angry. “That son-of-a-bitch sold us out.”

  “That’s one possibility,” Gil announced while remaining alert. “Corbin’s a prick, but he’s played on our side for years. He’s also in charge of protecting public enemy number one and is down three men already.”

  “So those guys may not be after our team but security in general,” Monroe replied with a groan. “We need to find the others and regroup. There’s no telling how many of them are lurking around the woods.”

  “We’re low on weapons,” Gil reminded him.

  “We could go back to the resort for the shotguns, but that’s going to take time,” Monroe announced.

  “Then we’ll just need to collect some weapons along the way,” Gil casually replied. “According to the map, Beck and Jackie are closest to us. Jackie was heading toward the interior and the zip line course. Beck was heading toward the exterior on the nature walk along the cliffs.”

  “I saw a crude roadway from the water about one hundred yards that way,” he announced while pointing. “We can hug the beach under the protection of the woods’ edge and follow that road. The road leads straight to the zip line course. One of us can take the road to Jackie and the other can head up the path to intercept Beck on the nature hike.”

  Darth snarled softly while staring toward the beach. Both men looked at what caught the dog’s attention. Two men in camouflage holding rifles ran along the sand and pointed to the remains of the boat smoldering in the water. Gil and Monroe stepped behind the trees to avoid giving their position away. Gil aimed the gun and fired two shots. Both men went down. He casually straightened and eyed Monroe.

  “There are our weapons,” Gil announced with little emotion. “We should get going.”

  Monroe gave him a quick once over. “Maybe you should put on some shoes, island Gil.”

  Gil looked down at his bare feet then glanced around the beach. He’d successfully lost his shoes somewhere. “Maybe I’ll just borrow a pair of boots from these guys. Those shoes weren’t good for hiking anyway.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Beck walked along the path in the woods and came to a large clearing. He crossed the clearing and approached the cliff overlooking the ocean. It was a breathtaking view and a rather steep drop to the water below. He crouched near the edge and sank into his own thoughts. Beck ran his fingers through his hair then cursed softly. The sound of rifle fire in the near distance was enough to put him on alert. He straightened and listened. Despite the absence of further shots, Beck listened intently to the sounds all around him. He heard static on his handheld radio along with a voice that sounded like Kirk.

  “Kirk?” he responded into the radio, but there was no response.

  Another voice came over the radio, which he could almost identify as Bogart, but there was too much static to be sure. Beck tapped his thumb to the radio and stared into the woods a moment. Nothing moved, and he didn’t see anything. Several yards within the woods, a man in camouflage pressed his back against a large tree and held his rifle. He peered around the tree and leveled the rifle for the nearby cliff. The man lifted his eyes from the scope and looked at the empty clearing. Beck was gone. He straightened while removing his hand radio.

  “I lost the target,” the man announced into the radio while turning.

  Beck stood directly behind him and smiled almost charmingly. “Hey,” he announced cheerfully then punched the man square in the face.

  The man fell back against the tree but didn’t drop his rifle. Beck grabbed the rifle and twisted it in the man’s hand while delivering a throat punch. The man gasped, clutched his throat, and sank to his knees. Beck examined the rifle with little concern for the man writing in agony by his feet.

  “Is it just me, or does this stink of a setup?” Beck remarked then finally eyed the man gasping and wheezing.
He rolled his eyes and groaned. “Big baby,” Beck scoffed. “Consider yourself lucky; I’m the nice one.”

  Despite writhing and gasping, the man reached behind his back. Beck casually grabbed his thumb and bent it back until it snapped. The man cried out. Beck removed the semiautomatic from the holster on the man’s belt and eyed it. He then glared at the screaming man.

  “It’s just dislocated,” Beck scoffed then twisted his thumb the other way. It again snapped causing the man to scream more. “You’ll live.” He then considered. “Maybe. That remains to be seen.” Beck assessed the situation, carefully considering his options. “Take your boots off. We’re going for a little walk back to the resort.”

  “Take my boots off,” the man gasped, barely able to speak from the throat punch.

  “Yeah,” Beck casually replied. “You won’t be able to run far or fast in this terrain without your boots.” He offered an innocent look. “Hey, I’m taking you alive. You should be overwhelmed with relief.”

  The man reluctantly removed his combat boots, tossed them aside, and then stood.

  Beck grabbed one of the boots and removed the shoelace. “Okay, turn around. Wrists together.”

  The man eyed Beck then did as he commanded. He easily tied the man’s wrists together behind his back then placed the pistol down the back of his pants and carried the rifle.

  “Let’s go. Start walking,” Beck announced then pointed with the rifle. “It’s only three or four miles that way.”

  They walked along the path for a few minutes with Beck bringing up the rear. He fiddled with his prisoner’s handheld radio, which mysteriously contained no static.

  “Jackie, do you copy?” There was no response. “These things have lousy range.” Beck cradled the rifle in his arms and removed his own handheld radio. He compared the two and appeared curious. “They look the same, but mine is a cheaper model.” He eyed his prisoner, who walked ahead of him while carefully stepping around stones. “Who were you out to screw? My team or security in general?”

  The man didn’t comment, which wasn’t surprising.

  He again tried the hand radio. “Jackie, you copy?”

  “She’s probably already dead,” the man remarked with little care.

  Beck took a quick step toward the man from behind and kicked him in the back of the knee, driving him to the ground. The man flipped onto his back and looked up at Beck only to see the barrel of the rifle aimed at his face.

  “For your sake, she better not be dead,” he snarled with anger. “I’m not above blowing your head off on principle alone. Now get up!”

  The man attempted to stand. With his hands tied behind his back, it took several attempts.

  Beck collected his emotions and resumed his calm demeanor. “Change of plans,” he lightly snarled. “We’re heading uphill to find Jackie. If she has one hair out of place, you’ll be begging me to kill you.”

  †

  Jackie hiked up the hillside on the worn path typically used by four-wheelers to reach the zip line course. Others could take the jeep trail to arrive at the same destination. Although she was covering ground slower than by vehicle, she was getting a better lay of the land. The zip line tower was only a few yards ahead of her. Naturally, there was no one there, whether workers or guests. Since the hotel remained closed to non-wedding guests, the zip line was open by appointment only. Sal’s rich friends weren’t exactly the outdoor, thrill-seeking type.

  The sound of rifle fire in the near distance caught her attention. It was just far enough away that it would be impossible to investigate. She wasn’t sure, but it sounded as if it came from the section of woods Kirk and Bogart had traveled. She paused and listened, but after the initial rifle fire, there was no sound. Her radio suddenly crackled. She could make out Kirk’s voice, but she didn’t know what he was saying. Bogart’s voice followed, but the static was even worse. Jackie suspiciously eyed the hand radio then turned it off and looked around the woods. Without knowing what either man said, she wasn’t sure if it was just idle radio chatter or if one of them needed assistance. From her current position, she was too far away to reach either.

  She continued toward the zip line tower, which looked more like a shed with open doorways containing platforms on three sides. Something suddenly didn’t feel right. The rifle fire followed by radio chatter from the team had her on edge for some reason. If her father taught her anything, it was to trust her instincts. Sometimes, though, she worried her instincts were just paranoia. Perhaps they were the same thing. She removed her tactical batons from her rear belt holster and gave both a flick, extending them to two feet each. She twirled them in her hands and continued along the trail, stepping as silently as possible to hear all sounds around her. She reached the small shed and relaxed when she discovered it was empty. Jackie looked over the neatly organized harnesses and various sized helmets. A map tacked to the wall revealed three separate zip line courses heading in different directions. She consulted the map and took note where each line eventually ended.

  The openings in the shed on three sides contained small perches of sorts where the rider would step out, have their harnesses hooked up, and then take a leap of faith. Jackie had done it many times as well as other rugged outdoorsy type things with her father and his team over the years. She wasn’t a fan of zip lines, but parachuting was number one on her most loathed list. As she studied the zip line map, she realized the first course would deposit her somewhere near where Bogart and Kirk had headed. Still, that didn’t mean she’d ever find them in the vast wooded area. She thought better of it and stepped out the back of the enclosure to resume her hike.

  She heard a twig snap and spun toward the sound with her tactical batons in attack position. A man in camouflage stood several feet away with a rifle aimed at her. Jackie considered her options, which she had several. As she cast a look around to plot her next move, she saw three more men also in camouflage appear from the woods with rifles aimed at her. Four men seemed like overkill to her. They couldn’t possibly know she could handle two armed men yet it did reek of setup.

  “Good afternoon, boys,” she announced while eying the four men strategically positioned around her. She didn’t lower her weapons but remained completely still. “I believe there’s some misunderstanding. I’m working for Corbin.”

  “No,” the one man replied. “There’s no misunderstanding. We’re the ones they sent you to find. Fortunately for you, the boss wants you taken alive.” He gave her a quick once over and grinned. “Can’t say I blame him. The others sent to find us weren’t nearly as lucky.”

  Jackie stared at the first man and showed little emotion, although her body twitched. By his words, the rest of her team had been ambushed the same as she had. She had to have faith that they were clever enough to survive or risk letting her emotions get in the way of what she needed to do.

  “Now drop your sticks like a good a little girl,” he continued.

  Did he just tell her to be a ‘good little girl’? She felt her hostility rising. She hated when men spoke to her like a child, especially from men she could easily take down. She lowered her tactical batons while contemplating which man she’d need to take out first and in what order they needed to fall. The man directly in front of her had the best shot of taking her down, so he needed to go first. The number one man on her hit list suddenly cried out while clutching a Bowie knife sticking out of his neck. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know whose knife that was. By the direction the knife had come, she knew to attack the man on the opposite side. Jackie fought both men to her left, striking their rifles in an attempt to knock them from their hands. Zack seemed to appear out of nowhere behind the man to her right before he could get off a shot and kicked him in the head with a high, roundhouse kick. As the man fell, Zack threw himself into a forward roll and snatched the rifle before the attacker fell to the ground.

  Jackie aggressively struck both men with her tactical batons and added a few kicks in for added effect. Once the l
ast man hit the ground, she looked at Zack, who was already searching the fallen men for weapons.

  “You’ve been here less than a day,” Zack remarked without looking at her. “How did you piss off so many people in such a short time?”

  “Taking lessons from you,” she replied.

  “If you were taking lessons from me, you’d have traded in those wuss sticks for a pair of samurai swords by now.”

  “Stop trying to turn me into your fantasy assassin, Zack,” she scoffed and collected weapons from the two men she took down. “No swords and no gymnastics.”

  “All the best female superheroes--”

  “I’m not learning gymnastics, so I can do high-flying flips with swords for your perverse pleasure,” she bluntly informed him. “Get your rocks off elsewhere.”

  “You’re really no fun,” he scoffed. He continued his search of the man’s pockets and removed something of interest. His grin told a grim story. “What have we here?”

  Jackie glanced at Zack and saw him slip a grenade into his leg pocket. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. The last thing she needed was Zack with anything that went boom. He got into enough trouble with his bare hands. Zack heard something Jackie didn’t. As he tackled her to the ground, a rifle fired and struck the man she’d been searching. Zack rolled off her and both immediately fired blindly into the wood while scrambling to their feet. They darted inside the zip line shed. The rifle bullets splintered the wood inside near them.

  “This isn’t going to offer much cover for long,” Jackie informed him.