“Grenade!”
Mike pressed his fingers to his ears. He saw Tom do the same. Standing in the master bedroom, the noise would be the only thing that could hurt them.
The blast wasn’t as bad this time, not for them anyway. He heard shrapnel hit the walls in the other room. It sounded somewhat like BB was hitting a cement wall.
“Al, you good.”
“I’m good. Stupid bastards couldn’t throw it any farther than halfway down the hall. They’re probably bleeding out of the ears right now.”
Tom collected the two expensive knives and sheathes one for each of them. You didn’t leave souvenirs like these lying around. You took them home when you finished the mission. It was a way of saying, I am going home.
“Go help, Al. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Tom slid his knife into the sheath and put it in his back pocket.
“That’s my knife.” The boy on the floor said.
“Not anymore, it’s not.”
Both boys’ faces clenched in hate. Their eyes stared expensive European daggers at him.
“Get up.” Mike grabbed the boy’s shirt and pulled him up. “Goes sit on the bed with your brother.” He pushed the boy backward. He stumbled, swung a fist at him from ten feet away, and sat down.”
Invitations to either of their birthday parties would not be forthcoming.
Gunfire. He heard four or five shots from the far side returned by about the same from Al and Tom.
“We’re good.” Tom’s voice was emotionless. “They’re testing the water. They’re stuck there unless we move.”
“Roger that.”
He looked around the bedroom.
“Julia.”
She stared at the injured boy. Her eyes didn’t waver from the diluted blood on his cheek and neck. Her body was stock still. She’d injured a child and was having a hard time processing it.
He took her arms and spun her around. She blinked and looked up at him.
“I almost killed that boy.”
Not much of a loss as far as he was concerned. But he couldn’t tell her that. Hell, he wouldn’t have enjoyed the experience of killing a kid either, accident or not.
“But you didn’t.” He shook her arm gently. “I need you to shove that down in that dark place again and forget about it. Right?”
She took a ragged breath and focused her eyes on him. “What do you need me to do.”
“Guard them. If they try to move, butt stroke them.”
He pulled out his knife and walked toward the bed.
“Mike.” She grabbed his arm.
The boys’ hate turned to hate tempered with fear. The older boy put his arms around his brother.
“What?” He rolled his eyes at her. “I’m not going to torture a couple of dumbass kids.”
He stripped the case off one of the pillows, cut strips from it long ways, and handed them to Julia. A little more wanton destruction. It wasn’t much, but it made him feel good.
“Mike.” Niki wasn't pleased. “There’s a helicopter flying up the valley coming this way.”
When it rains, it pours. “Roger.” He tied the boys' hands behind their backs and marched them into the office, handing them off to Al.
“It’s flying to the helipad. It’s out of sight now.”
“Roger.”
He pulled two chairs from the conference table over, sat the boys down, tied them down, gagged, and blindfolded them.
“Let’s see if they like this.” He placed both chairs in the doorway of the tunnel. If the kids could see, they’d have a view of the Giant and his men down the tunnel. He grabbed the claymore bag and gave it to Al.
“Set it up, clacker and tripwire.”
“What do I attach the trip wire to?”
“Nothing yet?”
He stood between the boys, a hand on each boy’s shoulder. “Down the hall. Do any of you speak English?”
It was quiet then he heard whispered voices. “I speak English.” The sound was raspy and menacing.
“Look down here. I have a surprise for you.”
“No. What do you want?”
“Mike, it’s ready.”
Mike took the claymore and placed it in the older boy’s lap. The oldest started to move around, trying to get the object off his legs. He wrapped the electric cord, one end attached to the claymore, the other to the clacker, then around the boy to prevent the claymore from falling to the ground.
“Look out here, or I’m going to cut one of these kids.”
A man was pushed out into the open. His head snapped up at the sight of the boys. He spoke to the side and walked back around the corner.
The big man stepped into the open. He held a machine gun. It looked tiny in his hands.
Mike swallowed his anger. That man. That gun. He knew his face was red and waited till he could speak and not betray how much he wanted to curse the man.
“Do you see the anti-personal mine in this boy’s lap?” He tapped the boy’s head.
Both kids started to squirm noises came out from their gags. He grabbed both by the neck, squeezing and shaking them. “Quiet.” They stopped.
The man’s skin, the part his black hair and beard didn’t cover, became blood red. “If you hurt those kids, Mike Mason, I’ll hunt you to the end of the earth until you’re dead. Your friends, too. Shall I name them off?”
“Maybe you should tell us your name so we know who you are when we kill you.”
“My name is Badi. Your death will not come easy.”
Tom whipped his gun up and fired into the hallway. Badi jumped back behind the cover of the wall. The bullets hit the cement, spraying chips from the wall where Badi had been standing.
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