It’s cold. Too cold. The cold is working in and shutting me down. I must have three or four broken ribs and several hits. I can taste blood. That means internal injuries. Laying here watching that path I can’t help but think about my wife Sara and our daughter Trina. She just turned two and is walking. Trina not Sara, she had been walking for a while now. I had a Colt M4 with six magazines and a Glock 17 with four magazines. In my position, I have a clear site along the trail on the west side. The two I was protecting went east on the only other path. I hope they make it.
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I run a specialty management service. I run several apartment buildings as well as a successful chain of themed bars. At one time, I ran a different kind of service. A specialty security service. We were mercenaries with a cause. Rebels with a clue. Our last job saw too many of your friends die. They died so other could be free, but they are dead all the same. Keeping the business running just didn’t seem right. So, I closed it down. I got married and now I am a dad. My right-hand, a tall Senegalese woman called TC quit when she found out she was pregnant. She had said it was irresponsible to risk her life when she was responsible for another. Lying here bleeding out I can’t help but see what she meant.
A longtime friend called my asking if I could help on a job. We don’t need the money and my days of running into danger are in the past. He said he was working with the FBI on a special duty protecting some people in witness protection until their relocation was setup. The rub was that he thought the FBI was compromised and the two were in trouble. I looked at my schedule already knowing I was going to do it. I went to call Sara when I realized I needed to do this in person. She will be angry but not as angry as if I called her on the way. Oh, by the way they’re in fucking Maine. Why?
About an hour later I was on a plane to Maine. Sara was cool about it. She said, “if you are going you better go now before TC gets here.” TC was incubating her third child and was on her way over for a play date with her son and Daughter named Dave and Bobbie. They were named for friends that died but will never be forgotten. She might just shoot me in the foot to keep me from going. I wouldn’t put it past her. In the plane, an FBI agent named Sampson like the guy with the magical hair gave me a Colt M4, a Glock 17 and plenty of magazines for both. I said, “are we going to war?” he replied, “given their luck it’s best to plan for anything.”
I read a quick background on the two. He was a gun happy security guard and she was the daughter of a Russian hitman. They were both wanted by the Russian mob as well as a Nazi cult. I remember reading about this Nazi Cult killing some people at a rave and a high school pool. The mob sent some people to interrupt their wedding. This wedding was a secret and was to be protected by the FBI but someone called off the protection leaving them open for attack.
We landed and met up with a truck going north. About three hours later we stopped and got out. From there I had an hour march into the woods and snow. They were in a cabin in a park with only two paths in. The snow was deep. If you noticed I said I instead of we because Agent Sampson went with the truck. I eventually found the cabin. As I approached I heard a voice, “drop the bag and hold your hands up.” I stated to look around and the voice said, “I don’t care who you are if you don’t do what I said I will shoot.” I dropped the bag and said, “I am Jack Pressler I am a private security officer sent by an FBI agent named Sampson and I would appreciate it if you didn’t shoot me Bob.” He came out of the snow. Bob was hidden in the snow waiting for me.
Inside the cabin I found a young white girl with a gun. Apparently, they were not told I was coming. The cabin had no power outside a solar cell that was under three feet of snow. I asked them, “would you rather say here or find a good hotel with room service?” Christina said, “I want out of here. I have been screaming it into this dead phone for days now.” About the time she said it her husband Bob came in after brushing off the snow. We sat down and planned our exit. My phone was working but had no signal. Bob said, “we need to warn your uncle about the move.” I said, “we can call him from a nice warm jacuzzi.” Then there was a noise outside.
Bob jumped to his feet and ran to the door. Just as he opened it I pulled him a way. Gunfire ripped into the cabin. I felt multiple hits against my vest. I went down just as Bob closed the door. He said something to Christina then grabbed his rifle and went out a back door. From the floor, I heard gunfire. The rhythmic beat of an AK47 to the single shot 308. After four or five minutes, the gunfire ended. The door opened and it was Bob. I was messed up by the gunfire. I had some busted ribs and could taste blood. One or two rounds made it through the vest. Bob said, “there are more coming.” From the side of the cabin you can see the trail. Fortunately, none of the gunmen brought an RPG or the cabin would be dust by now. It’s also how he could prepare for me. I told them that I can’t make it out on my own and I would just slow them down. I had them help me to the door and out. I found a good vantage point for laying down fire. Then I said, “go take the other path and find help.”
These are short stories I wrote. Some are connected to the larger books I am working on others are just for the fun of story telling.
Chapters 1 - 12 PDF
PDFs are on new Story PDF page
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