Zero Mercy: The Evolution of Pierce Wellington III

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Zero Mercy: The Evolution of Pierce Wellington III Page 1

by Scarlett Braden




  Copyright © 2016 Scarlett Braden

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN:

  ISBN-13:

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,

  businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the

  products of the author’s imagination or used in a

  fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons,

  living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover design by Susan Herron

  Author photograph by Sebastian Matias Torres

  Vallejo

  Chapter 1

  On the 25th day of September in the year of our Lord

  1968, I was liberated from the womb. As I burst forth into this

  world, my Army camo was so effective no one noticed it, and

  they damn sure didn’t pick up on the army blood running

  through my veins. But it was there, I’m truly certain it was

  there.

  I’m Pierce McCord Wellington the III. I was born Army, I

  lived Army and I’ll die Army. The good Lord saw fit that I didn’t

  die on a battlefield, but to my way of thinking that just means I

  have more missions to complete.

  My ancestry goes all the way back to the pilgrimage and

  every man in my family has served. Hell, I even have a niece

  serving now. I always knew I would be a soldier. The first twelve

  years of my life were like most every other military brat, moving

  from base to base. I say most because all of our moves were

  between bases outside the borders of our fifty states.

  When I reached the eighth grade, my father, now a four-

  star general, decided it was time to begin my military education.

  He never said so, but I always felt he was a little disappointed

  that out of his three children I was the only son. And in his mind

  the only one worthy of military duty. My father was of that

  generation who believed a woman didn’t belong on the

  battlefield. In a MASH hospital was okay, but short of being a

  nurse, no woman belonged there.

  So at the tender age of twelve, I was enrolled in the

  McArthur Military Preparatory Boarding School. It was the first

  time in my life I actually lived in the United States. I lived there

  345 days a year until I graduated. I visited with my family for

  ten days at Christmas and ten days in the summer. That first

  year, I felt abandoned. Alone. My mother sent me a letter once a

  month. My sisters wrote me more often and told me Momma

  cried every time she wrote that monthly letter and cried all the

  way to the mailbox. I didn’t quite understand. I thought I was

  the one who should be crying. Of course, that was strictly

  forbidden in a male gendered Wellington, but I sure didn’t

  understand what she was upset about. I was the one who was

  sent away.

  I wish I could say I was an exemplary student, but well,

  that just wouldn’t be honest. I wish I could say I was the most

  popular. But that would mean I was a prick by the very

  definition. We all know the most popular boys are the ass

  kissers of the crowd, at least where I went to school, and I bet if

  you’re honest it was that way at your school too. I suppose that

  makes me just an average Joe. I took my training seriously. Like

  I said before, I was born with Army blood, but I knew how to

  have fun too.

  More than once I groaned at the morning muster with a

  doozy of a hangover. On several occasions, I had to sneak back

  on to campus, after a night in town chasing after the local

  teenage girls. But my favorite activity was playing pranks on my

  fellow cadets. That’s what they called us. We weren’t boys, we

  weren’t men, we weren’t students we were cadets. And with that

  designation we were to understand that it meant we had a

  higher calling. We were expected to uphold a certain moral code.

  We understood rules and chain of command, dignity, honor, and

  when to break them all.

  Following five years of training at McArthur, I was

  accepted to West Point. Of course. It was expected and I believe

  if any deed or misdeed had thwarted it my father would have

  died of a sudden cranial hemorrhage. I suppose that makes it

  very fortunate that all went as planned.

  With nine years of military training before I even entered

  the military, as well as my genetic pedigree, many assumed I

  was the equivalent of royalty in the service. Really, it just meant

  expectations were high, allowances were nonexistent, and the

  pressure and competition unparalleled. But I was Pierce McCord

  Wellington III and I succeeded. There was no other option.

  I haven’t mentioned my family, except to say there were

  three of us siblings, and I the only boy. I have two sisters, one

  older, one younger. Harper and Nicole are their names

  respectively. My mother was the perfect military wife. Picking

  us all up, moving wherever father was sent. Having babies in

  whatever military hospital in whatever country was her latest

  temporary residence. Harper was two years older than me, and

  Nicole was three years younger.

  Harper and Nicole sent me letters every week. Once a

  month they would pool their allowance and send me a care

  package. Those small envelopes and occasional boxes meant the

  entire world to me. Almost as much as my two sisters will

  always mean to me.

  This is the story of how I came to have only one sister and

  how I became the man I am today.

  Chapter 2

  Fast forward a few years. I came out of West Point and as

  soon as I received my 1st Lieutenant promotion I applied for and

  was accepted into the Army Special Forces. You may have heard

  them called the Green Berets. My father was not pleased with

  my new appointment.

  While the Special Forces are glorified on the big and small

  screens, to the establishment, they are black sheep, renegades.

  We didn’t follow all the military protocols. But the Special

  Forces were the perfect place for me. They are allowed to color

  outside the lines, so to speak, just enough to suit my gently

  rebellious nature. It was just the right amount of bucking the

  system so that I felt like my own man and not my father’s son.

  I’m sure that rebelliousness was born of my lineage, but I

  digress.

  Harper and her husband Tony live in Tennessee. I don’t

  much care for Tony. Harper has never said anything to make me

  suspicious of him and yet I am. I’m not sure what it is, but

  something just isn’t right. They don’t have any children and I

  wonder about that. Harper always talked about wanting a house

  full of children. She’s a teacher now and spends her day teaching

  kindergarteners. I personally can’t imagine any job more hair-

  raising than that. Maybe all those
children all day fulfill her

  maternal needs. As a woman, Harper is soft spoken, tender

  hearted and I’m ashamed to say it, but my favorite.

  Nicole married Don and they live in Atlanta. Nicole is

  pregnant with triplets. As opposed to Tony, I like Don. He’s a

  good man. But triplets? I can’t even begin to imagine.

  I’m now in charge of a team and we are embarking on a

  mission. This will be my last mission as a Green Beret. I’m being

  promoted again and moving on to bigger and better things.

  Namely a position with a lot less action and a lot more

  responsibility.

  “Good morning gentlemen. We have a sensitive and

  critical mission. Have any of you heard of a substance called

  Astatine?”

  “Yes, sir. I remember it’s on the periodic table of elements,

  but I can’t tell you much more than that.”

  “Thank you, Harrison. Yes, it is a natural element. But

  we don’t hear much about it because until a few months ago it

  was believed that at any given time there were less than two

  grams of the stuff in the earth’s crust. Some scientist believe

  there is usually less than one gram. Because of the near

  nonexistent quantity of the stuff, not a lot is known about it

  other than it is radioactive and comes from the decomposition of

  uranium and other heavy metals.”

  “Boss, what’s our mission?”

  “Our mission is to find and liberate Crown Princess

  Cecelia. The Crown Princess is the only daughter of King

  Jameson and Queen Lydia of Athipa. She was kidnapped last

  night.”

  “Okay, what’s the kidnapping got to do with the astatine

  stuff?”

  “Three months ago, it was discovered that deep below the

  surface of the coastal country of Athipa is a large deposit of

  astatine.”

  “How much is a big deposit?”

  “They don’t know for certain yet, but it appears from the

  first explorations that it’s more than a few pounds. No one

  knows yet how deep the deposit goes. The finding is quite

  extraordinary in the scientific world. The King believes the

  kidnapping has something to do with this rare element.”

  “Okay, what’s our plan? Oh, and how old is the Crown

  Princess?”

  “The Crown Princess is eighteen and the heir to the

  throne. She was abducted last night by a team that went into

  the palace via the roof. Guards shot at a helicopter, but it got

  away. Athipa is a quiet little country. They don’t have a need for

  much of a military. I think all those guys really do is show up for

  parades and dignitary visits. Anyway, she could be anywhere.

  Intelligence is doing some tracking and will have some more

  information for us when we get closer.”

  “Captain, I just received a communiqué from Athipa.

  They have received a ransom note of sorts. It says they require

  five pounds of astatine to secure the release of the Crown

  Princess. Apparently there is a big problem with the request and

  a chemist from the Pentagon is coming through on satellite.”

  “Hello, I’m Dr. Pachonik. There is no way to raise the five

  pounds from that deposit and just hand it over to these

  uneducated criminals.”

  “Why is that Dr. Pachonik?”

  “The reason there is so much controversy over how much

  of the substance exists and so little known about the substance

  is it is so radioactive that when scientists have tried to remove

  small amounts of it from the earth’s crust it literally

  disintegrates instantly. It burns itself up. The deposit that has

  been located deep under the surface of Athipa is at this and

  every moment getting smaller. Unless there is some sort of

  constant source of decomposition this pool of astatine is just

  getting smaller and if we try to remove it, bring it to the surface,

  it will just burn up. Scientists are working now trying to develop

  a way to cool it enough to bring it up for research, but we are a

  long time away from a solution.”

  “Men, gear up. We have a princess to save because there

  is no way to pay the ransom even if we wanted.”

  Chapter 3

  Aboard the helicopter en route to Athipa, I briefed my

  team on the latest developments.

  “U.S. Security teams arrived to secure the palace as well

  as the exploration team. When they arrived, they discovered

  that the chief scientist on the exploration team, a Dr. Korzenski

  is also missing. At this time, we’re going to assume he was taken

  by the same abductors as the Crown Princess. Intelligence

  gathered a satellite image of a helicopter going down in a

  forested area on the border of Athipa and Leswil. It’s not known

  for certain if it landed or crashed. The area is approximately

  eighty kilometers from the site the exploration team was

  researching. A security team is en route to secure the

  exploration site. We’re going to find the Crown Princess and Dr.

  Korzenski.”

  The chopper set us down in the forest, near the helicopter.

  For three days we used drones looking for heat signatures to

  search for the occupants of the helicopter. The drones found

  nothing. We continued to work the area on foot, looking for

  anything that would indicate where the kidnappers took the

  Crown Princess Cecilia and Dr. Korzenski. Everyone assumed

  the reason for taking the doctor was to help locate the buried

  treasure deep beneath the surface.

  The forest was thick with trees, parasitical vines hung

  from and crisscrossed among the trees and ran along the

  ground. The vegetation was thick and green and in the most

  open areas, out from under the shade of the trees, where it was

  easier to walk, were six-foot tall brambles. The thorns on the

  brambles were two inches long and fierce. Movement through

  the forest was slow and tedious. But we continued looking for

  twenty hours a day. In the darkest part of the night, we rested

  to begin again.

  The security team surrounding the exploration site had

  no activity near the site. The remaining members of the

  exploration crew were moved to the Palace which was now

  heavily guarded with U.S. forces.

  By the third night, we were stumped as to where the

  kidnappers and their captives had escaped and how. But even

  more curious to me was why they took the doctor and yet didn’t

  appear to be using him to locate the mysterious element. None

  of it made any sense. The next morning, we struck out again,

  searching the forest floor as well as the tree branches for any

  clues. We all knew there was no way all these people just

  vanished into thin air. There were no bodies at the sight of the

  helicopter. No tracks of any kind. No vehicular traffic was

  apparent. I began to wonder if maybe there was a second

  helicopter involved. Maybe they transferred to a second chopper

  and left the area. I alerted the intel team who agreed to look at

  the satellite footage again to see if any type of aircraft left the

  area after the first chopp
er landed.

  While we waited for the intel regarding a possible

  secondary chopper, the entire team was convinced it was the

  only thing that made sense. And then, brainiac Harrison found

  something.

  “Hey Cap, this vegetation right here isn’t native.”

  “Freeze and silence.”

  Everyone on the team knew what that meant. Freeze and

  observe. We looked for booby traps, trip wires, or indications of

  mines. When nothing suspicious turned up other than a ground

  cover of good ole American clover, we began looking underneath

  the clover. Sure enough, it was hiding a wooden door into an

  underground structure of some kind. Before we advanced any

  further, I called in the coordinates and the findings to the team

  coordinator.

  I took a deep cleansing breath, asked my team if they

  were ready and then opened the door. It was a plywood wooden

  door on hinges that lifted straight up. All we could see below

  was a stairway. All our senses on high alert, one by one we

  descended. We didn’t know what lay ahead. We hoped to find the

  Crown Princess and the doctor, as well as their kidnappers. We

  prayed we wouldn’t find anything more sinister.

  Chapter 4

  As I led my team and descended to the twenty-third and

  last step, a tunnel stretched out in front of me. But almost a

  footstep distance away from the bottom step, I noticed a wire

  stretched taught about two inches above the raw dirt ground. I

  raised a hand to stop the team behind me. Silently I visually

  followed the wire. On one side it was screwed into the step. On

  the other, I expected to find explosives, but instead, I found the

  wire was attached to a wire mesh door on a wooden frame into

  the side of the mud wall. Shining a flashlight through the mesh,

  I saw what rested beyond the mesh door in a wooden crate set

  into the mud wall. The crate was full of snakes. I was relieved.

  If we had to come rushing out of the tunnel carrying

  victims in a hurry, we could probably move faster than the

  snakes if the wire tripped. Outrunning explosives was a much

  less likely proposition. I pulled an orange flag from my pack and

  tied it gently around the wire to alert us of the wire’s location

  when we retreated out of the tunnel. I then proceeded. I could

  see four distinct openings or doorways in the tunnel ahead.

 

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