Graham's Resolution Trilogy Bundle: Books 1-3

by A. R. Shaw

  Rick had tried in vain to locate their comrade’s position before the inevitable. They’d used every shred of intel, but nothing surfaced in time. It was a devastating blow. They’d finally identified one of the assailants in the video, but not before having to watch the torture repeatedly. It turned out to be a woman jihadist.

  It was an ironic discovery. The dead soldier was one of them, but he wasn’t exactly the best family man. If fact, he was quite a deplorable father. They’d spent weeks afterward tracking down all six of his kids by various mothers to relay the dreaded news; turns out they didn’t really seem to care if the man was alive or dead. The look on Rick’s face back then wasn’t anything compared to what Dalton saw now.

  “A few scattered clicks came through last night. They could be fucking with us, but more than likely it was interference. Dutch and I both tried to detect any Morse code from it, but the string was too random. We think it’s more likely white noise,” Rick said, his voice gravely and broken.

  “Okay, still, anything unusual we want to watch like hawks.” Dalton looked to Reuben. “Trucks loaded and pointed in the right directions?”

  “Affirmative. Extra caches also secured and ready for any contingency.”

  “Graham, are you on board with all of this? I know some of it’s new to you, but on a signal, everyone’s got his job. And you guys know yours, I hear.”

  “Yes, we’re all on board. My crew seemed to find their place and fit in right away,” Graham said.

  “Glad to hear it. Dutch told me how Bang took over archery training. I would love to have seen that.” Dalton began to laugh and had to hold onto his shoulder when the laughter caused him pain. They all broke into much-needed chuckles.

  “If he wasn’t such a modest little guy, it wouldn’t have been so damn comical, but he’s so tiny; I just couldn’t believe it. These kids certainly pull their own weight in the defense department,” Dutch said.

  “Yeah.” Graham agreed. “Bang came to me like that. His mother had taught him well. She was amazing; kept herself alive long enough to hand him off to me. She waited until my father died; she watched me. I don’t know how she did it, frankly. Her name was Hyun-Ok. I’ll never forget her look of resolute courage.” Graham looked up at Clarisse, who smiled at him.

  “Never underestimate a mother’s love,” she said.

  “She could have taken his life. Many did that,” Dalton said.

  “That’s not an option for some mothers,” Clarisse said, and Dalton saw her smile at Tala, who sat next to Graham with her hand on her swollen belly. They all knew what Clarisse meant; nothing else needed saying.

  “It wasn’t an option for her. That kid has saved my ass, and fed me more than once,” Graham admitted. Dalton could tell with an ache in his heart for his own sons how Graham felt for the boy. Bang was as much Graham’s own son as Hunter and Kade were Dalton’s.

  “Okay, well. I’m hoping to get out of this damn bed by tomorrow—if Doc here clears me, that is,” Dalton said, smiling up at Clarisse.

  She looked at him and affirmed his hopes. “I think that’s possible, but you have to take it easy. These things take time. Your strength won’t be back to one hundred percent for weeks.”

  “We may not have that much time. Any questions? No? Hey, Rick, do you have operators for the reapers?” Dalton said.

  “Actually, yes. You’ll be surprised who aced the test, but yes. We have five operators ready to go.”

  “All right, I’ll see you guys in the morning. Stay vigilant,” he said to dismiss everyone, and they filtered out of the room. Then Dalton turned to McCann and said, “Hey, can you hang here for a second?”

  “Sure.”

  “Can’t thank you enough. Sam told me what went down . . . what he saw from his perspective. That goddamned bear just wouldn’t quit. Last thing I remember, I was pulling out my pistol and seeing the bear turn on someone else, but it wasn’t one of us. I fired on the bear, not realizing it was attacking the enemy. What the hell happened? That’s where I blacked out.”

  McCann swallowed his guilt over Steven’s death before he could speak. “Nothing we did to distract the bear did a damn thing. I don’t know how many shots we pumped into him before those frigging bastards showed up. They were firing on us. There was a bear attacking you. It was messed up,” McCann said.

  “That, my friend, is what we call a clusterfuck,” Dalton explained.

  McCann let out a sad chuckle. “Yeah, it was all that. Everyone was shooting, and I hit a big rock with the back of my boot against the brick wall and Steven was in front of me. Everything slowed down all of a sudden; I looked at the chaos and saw you trying to stab the bear, and you were sliding down the wall. I stopped shooting, picked up the rock, and jumped out of cover of the brick wall and launched it as hard as I could at the bear’s head. Steven jumped in front of me because I was completely exposed, and . . . he recoiled backward over me. I knew what happened immediately.” He looked down, shaking his head as he remembered the nightmare. “It’s my fault he died. He was trying to cover me. I screwed up and he died. I should have warned him to him.”

  Dalton waited a moment for McCann’s angst to die down. “McCann, in a clusterfuck, there is no time to explain. I’ve been there, when time slows down and you know whatever decision you make in the next split second will set off a chain reaction. No one but you blames you for Steven’s death. It was those fuckers, and believe me, redemption is coming. You saved my life, man. You saved my sons from being completely orphaned. I owe you.” Dalton shook McCann’s hand.

  “Thanks, Dalton. All the same, can Rick or someone else show me the hand signals you guys use so I can at least know how to communicate if this ever happens again?”

  “Sure,” Dalton said. “Ask Rick. I’m sure he’ll show you. Hell, Sam taught us different hand signals and I think we use a combination of the two now, but honestly, from what Sam described, it probably wouldn’t have made a difference.”

  Clarisse came back into the room, and both men turned to look at her. “Visiting time is over, guys. Dalton needs to sleep now,” she said, and McCann headed for the door.

  “Hey, McCann. Swing by tomorrow. I need to look at that arm again,” Clarisse said as the young man waved and disappeared from sight.

  “You are so mean,” Dalton teased.

  “You’re tired. I can tell,” Clarisse said as she readied a shot full of fluid and inserted it into Dalton’s IV tube.

  “Hey, what the hell was that?” he said and grabbed her around the thigh. “Don’t put me to sleep now.”

  “You are such a baby, and a terrible patient.”

  “I seem to remember you being quite a naughty doctor recently,” Dalton said, pulling her down to lip level.

  Chapter 40 A Dinner Mood

  Graham grabbed his tray and followed Mark through the dinner line. “You’re on watch tonight?” he asked Mark as Olivia spooned the game catch of the day’s casserole onto his plate. “Thank you,” he said, grabbing a pan and tearing it away from the rest in the row. He was starving, and the smell of rolls rising all day had left him weak and salivating, even if they weren’t Tala’s famous rolls.

  “Yeah, McCann and I,” Mark answered. “Rick said I couldn’t take watch with Marcy. She’s too distracting for me, he says.” Mark stuffed a roll into his mouth, then grabbed another.

  “Is that where the girls are now?” Graham asked.

  “Yeah, both she and Macy are on watch. Rick had them shoot and cleared them both for guard duty this afternoon while you were on duty.”

  “Great. So, I’ll be relieving you after your shift tonight.” Graham found the table Tala had chosen and sat down beside her.

  “Graham, why did you tell Rick I couldn’t take a shift on guard duty?” Tala asked. She was angry, and her eyes turned black as coal when she was mad at him. Graham looked at Mark, who’d heard the remark and suddenly became enthralled with his own meal.

  “I’d think the answer was obvious,” Gra
ham said.

  “I can still shoot, Graham. You should have asked me. Or we should have talked about this before you made the decision for me. You know I don’t like that. I’m pregnant, not useless,” Tala said.

  “Can we talk about this later? In the tent, maybe?” Graham kissed her on the head and touched the small of her back, pulling her against him on the bench. He hugged her, knowing all of this was new and different and she felt out of place.

  Tala waited a moment and then leaned close to his ear. “I’m not sure you’re going to be in the tent with me tonight,” she whispered with a smirk.

  “Yes I will, Tala. You’re not getting out of my sight. I’m trying to protect you and our child. You’re a powerful, amazing woman, but hell, I couldn’t live without you. It would kill me, and our baby is preciously close to life. No, Tala. I won’t let you do guard duty. You can be mad at me, but I’m doing it out of love.”

  She leaned into Graham, resting her head on his chest. Pouting, she said, “I’m not mad. I’m scared and hormonal. I’m frustrated, and even your shirts aren’t even big enough to cover me now.”

  He smiled into her hair. “You’re beautiful, Tala. My God, I think you’re even sexier now than ever, swollen with our child growing inside of you. It nearly killed me to leave you alone this morning.” Graham knew from experience that once he started talking like this into her ear, she would turn shades of red in front of everyone else.

  Tala knew it too. “Stop, Graham, please. Not now.” She leaned into him again and whispered with a wicked smile, “Later, maybe.”

  Chapter 41 Malefic Nation

  The Malefic Nation seeped through spring rains and slithered on their bellies in the mud, hidden by the early fog of day and the dark blanket of night. A few pathfinders at first, then legions of them. First a trickle, and then a steady murky stream, growing ever larger, lying in wait and watching.

  Graham leaned back in the guard shack against the wall of the quarantine building. He blinked carefully, still not used to the night vision contacts. I can’t believe I let them talk me into this. He’d heard about these things, but didn’t think he’d ever find himself wearing them; knowing his eyes glowed green like a cyborg was unsettling.

  Rick had assured him that these were better than night vision goggles, or NVGs, which were plagued with depth perception issues. He had recounted the time they’d descended out of a Nighthawk helicopter in Iraq when the approaching ground suddenly appeared to leap forward. Rick had landed hard and knocked himself out, wrenching his ankle in the process due to the damn thing; items may be closer than they appear. He then walked painfully for two days with his ankle wrapped in duct tape.

  Graham and Sam had both opted for the contacts, a neat little tech invention that Rick was proud to have gotten his hands on before the world fell apart. They were even rumored to have been used in the Bin Laden raid back before all of this started. Rick explained that the recent discovery of graphene, an ultralight, strong carbon only one atom thick, made it all possible.

  What bothered Graham at the moment was the gel magnet that powered the thing; you adhered it to your eyelid, and the weight of it took some getting used to; with each blink there was an extra thickness. Graham figured that in time he would get used to the feeling, but for now it distracted him every time he creased his eyelid.

  He scanned the area in front of him from left to right and met Sam’s green glowing eyes peering back at him from the far right. It was an eerie sensation. He blinked again and peered to the west, scanning up and down the dark forest for anything unusual. With only starlight to shine through the night, the iridescent green shone bright. Had the moonlight drenched the forest, he thought it’d be bright as summer high noon through the scope, and he’d need sunglasses to get by without his eyes watering.

  The earpiece clicked once and Graham spoke softly into the microphone clipped to his collar. “Clear. Rain’s picking up. Over.”

  “Reuben’s relieving you in ten. Over.” Rick said.

  “Copy,” Graham said back. The microphone remained open in case there was any feedback, or to save a panicked step if one became necessary.

  Graham’s ear went silent once again, and the rain pattered softly against the lush leaves and long, desiccated needles covering the ground between the trees. He found his mind drifting to Tala, lying warm and swollen in their tent, and how he might put it gently to McCann to take Bang into his own tent for a night without revealing his amorous intentions. Maybe insomnia, he thought. Yeah, that would work. The boy snores anyway. He could claim for one night that Bang’s snoring was keeping him up. It might work.

  Suddenly his brain showed him an outline that shouldn’t be there. Graham thought it might be a trick of his imagination. He stared at the anomaly a millisecond longer, making sure it wasn’t his mind trying to make false logical sense of loose elements. But the more he stared, he couldn’t deny that there was someone there. He was out in the open, and the image knew he was there too, with glowing green eyes staring back at him. The hair on Graham’s neck started a slow procession toward saluting.

  Without moving at all, he whispered into his microphone, “Rick, ten-fourteen.”

  A moment passed while Graham observed the figure for any movement. Then he heard a confused breath over his earpiece, “What the hell’s a ten-fourteen, Graham?”

  Graham suddenly realized he was using Ennis’s police code rules instead of the agreed-upon military radio code, but his mind just couldn’t recall what the hell the right response that was at this crucial moment.

  “Talk to me, Graham. What the hell do you mean? Is someone there?” Rick asked him.

  “Uh-huh,” he said softly.

  “How many?”

  “One, so far.”

  “Where?”

  “Northwest. Barely see him,” Graham said slowly, hoping his voice wouldn’t carry in what little wind there was.

  “Don’t engage. We’re coming,” Rick advised.

  “Yep, not engaging,” Graham responded, now observing the solid outline of a man. Then he saw what looked like a leg draped in a sheet move forward and, instead of crouching down, the man came sat on the ground. The glowing figure suddenly aimed something in his direction.

  “Ah shit, he’s moving!”

  “Down, Graham!” Rick yelled right behind him after catching sight of the guy aiming at Graham’s position. Sam suddenly began firing from a separate position, and then all hell broke loose.

  Light streaks came at Graham, and what sounded like bullets whizzed by his head as he dropped to the ground. Something hit his chest and, for a second, Graham didn’t remember the vest he wore. The impact robbed him of his breath momentarily. Suddenly several more figures moved in the neon-green distance—those he hadn’t detected. What formerly looked like brush and twigs now morphed into human forms, their bodies draped in cloth.

  Graham heard a scream coming from the depth of green, and a figure emerged, clutching a spear that was embedded in his chest. Another man yanked one from his thigh.

  “Reapers!” yelled Dalton’s voice in Graham’s ear.

  “Copy,” Reuben answered.

  Graham aimed his rifle and looked through the scope at one of the increasing number of assailants, firing bright bursts of gunfire in his direction. He eased the nose of his rifle through an opening in the railing of the guard post while crouching on his belly. He fired three rapid bursts and the figure fell, only to be replaced by another.

  They were coming now, more and more of them through the woods. The first mysterious figures were now replaced by a wall of men in sheets blasting tiny lights at them. When one went down, two more could be seen in the distance.

  “Reapers ready,” Rick said through the earpiece.

  Graham continued to fire from his concealed position and watched as a few fell, while others recoiled and continued on, blasting back at his position. He knew he’d have to move soon or he’d meet the same demise as his first kill.

 
; “Ready.” Tala’s voice caught his attention.

  He was nauseated now, knowing she had a lethal job to do, but he kept on firing. He knew the five reaper operators were Rick, Tala, Clarisse, Lucy, and McCann. Knowing Tala was safe but stressed operating one of the killing machines drove Graham nuts, but he couldn’t worry about that now.

  He also knew Reuben, Mark, and the twins were hauling the rest of the camp’s occupants away and setting in motion their evacuation plan as the action unfolded.

  He sighted another figure, and sent three short bursts to the guy’s chest causing him to fall. Aiming again to the left, he heard the reapers begin, and the chatter in his ear increased suddenly. He picked out a few frustrated huffs and expletives, and Dalton told the group to try and remain silent to keep the line open for commands. A few more four-letter words seeped through, but Graham didn’t have the time to focus on the voices, with machine gun fire coming from the reapers and the shrill screams of the surprised invaders.

  Another bullet whizzed by his head and he felt a hand grab his jeans on the back of his thigh and yank him backward. Graham shot a glance backward. It was Dutch.

  “Behind me!” Dutch yelled. Graham didn’t need to be told twice, and hustled behind the bigger man, both of them taking cover behind the quarantine building.

  “Keep shooting!” Dutch yelled.

  “I am! But they just keep coming!”

  “The reapers will take out more of them soon. Don’t get discouraged. Keep going! Dalton will let us know if we need to fall back.”

  Graham aimed again and fired. There was no lack of targets available. Sam fired repeatedly from his position to the east. He doubted the reapers would make a dent in this crowd. He could see that they were outnumbered; he only hoped they weren’t outgunned.