Patton approached the Humvee. A soldier with a clipboard stood there, looking impatient.
“Larsen,” Patton said to the soldier.
The sergeant looked at him blankly and shifted a toothpick from the left side of his mouth to the right.
“About time Captain Larsen. What happened, Sir? You fall asleep?”
Patton blushed and was glad that it was still dark so the seasoned sergeant couldn’t see his face.
“Go sit over there,” the sergeant first class said blandly. “A truck will be here to pick you up at dawn, which is about two hours away. We have some soup over there for you. You’re done so take a load off.”
Patton nodded, too exhausted to reply with words. He walked over to where a group of soldiers was laying around, eating soup from canteen cups. There wasn’t much talking going on. Patton figured they were all as tired as he was. He heard his name but was too tired to turn around.
“Captain Larsen,” came a familiar voice. It was the Colonel he’d seen earlier that morning… or was it yesterday?
“Yes Sir?”
The Colonel came into his view and stood, proudly erect—the same stance that most seasoned soldiers had.
“I was a little worried you weren’t going to make it. You slept for over four hours.”
Patton looked at the Colonel with wonder and then embarrassment.
“You saw me?”
“Son, you made it, but if you ever tried to pull that in the field you’d be dead.”
Patton turned away in shame and nodded. He gathered himself again and turned to the Colonel again.
“I know, Sir, but I did make it.”
The Colonel smiled and clapped Patton on the shoulder.
“I know son. And welcome to Delta Force.”
Patton snapped awake. He looked around him and saw no one. No colonel, no Humvee, no sleeping soldiers. He sat up and took in his surroundings. At first he was confused but it finally sunk in. He was in the Rocky Mountains, not the Appalachians. He was no longer a Delta Force operator. His wife and children were dead. His second wife was being held prisoner by a sociopath. He’d just buried his best friend, whose brains had been blown out all over inside of Patton’s truck.
The cold air surged through him and he shivered violently. October was no time to be in the Rocky Mountains, especially when it was raining, and especially when you don’t have proper gear. Patton stood and rubbed his shoulders. He was glad to find that he’d found a concealed area before falling asleep. The trees had done nothing to protect him from the rain, however. He was freezing.
He glanced down to a spot a hundred feet or so below him and to the south. It was rocky there, but one particular mound stood out from the rest. It was the spot where he’d buried Frank. It shamed him to leave him there—in the cold, hard, rocky ground. He didn’t see what other choice he had, though. No doubt David Asher would have people on his tail, if he didn’t already. He allowed him one last glance and then forced himself to move on. He would return someday and he would give his friend a proper burial, next to his wife. Now, though, he had things to do.
Patton had some important decisions to make. Most important was rescuing his wife, of course. He figured that he wasn’t far from the prison, but his journey would be over rough, rocky terrain. He wouldn’t have access to a vehicle. It was moot because driving a vehicle would get him caught for sure. He would have people hunting him today, and knowing David Asher, they had probably been given orders to kill on sight.
The former soldier took a quick inventory of his possessions. He had his rifle and his handgun with plenty of ammunition. He also had some very specialized weapons he’d built in his shop. Patton pulled out one of his pistols made from composite and grimaced. He thought this would be a new beginning. Now he’d been thrust into his past and former profession.
Patton built a small fire. He would need a warm breakfast and coffee if he was going to do anything that day. Once the fire was going, he poured water into a canteen cup and placed it in the coals. He rummaged through his pack and found an MRE—Meal Ready to Eat. He removed the coffee and dumped the grounds into the hot water. MRE coffee was notoriously high in caffeine. He nursed the drink, feeling its effects, and started to warm the entree in the plastic MRE oven. When the meal was warm Patton ate it slowly and thought about his next move.
He had access to his gear, but he could only carry so much. He had a two-man tent, some cold weather gear, and a Gore-Tex-lined sleeping bag. Most important, he had his Camelback, his survival straw, and three canteens.
A sudden sense of loneliness poured over him and he almost began to weep. It took every bit of his self-control to remain calm. Eventually his focus returned and he was able to overcome the emotions. Only one thing mattered—that was finding and rescuing his wife. If he was able to free others as he went along, that would be fine, but his mind was focused on that one task.
It was late morning and the sky was more overcast. It looked like it might rain for a while, and autumn rain is usually accompanied by wind and cool air. This would be to his advantage because he was accustomed to operating in adverse weather, whereas Asher’s poorly trained people would be reluctant to get out into the elements. If Asher wanted to win this war, he was going to have to get better people.
In the early afternoon, Patton geared up and climbed higher up into the mountains. This would provide him a better view of what was happening down below him. He had a powerful pair of binoculars and he was sure that he would be able to spot a convoy of vehicles headed his way. The afternoon dragged on and still there was no sign of a search party. Perhaps they were looking somewhere else, Patton thought, or maybe they thought he’d run away.
Patton decided that he would be safe for one more night, so he decided to put his tent up and build a fire. For what he was about to do, he needed to be well rested and well fed. There was a good possibility that he would be on the run from Asher’s people for many days. As a precaution he set an alarm for daybreak, sure that no one would be searching for him earlier than that.
The next morning broke clear and cold. Patton woke feeling rested and ready to strike out on his mission to find his wife. He steeled himself for a rough hike. Although he’d been in rougher terrain in much worse weather, he hadn’t done so for years. The thought that he’d let his training slip depressed him.
Patton climbed up higher and surveyed the activity going on down below him. There was light traffic on the highway that headed south along the rim of the valley, but he couldn’t see any police vehicles. Patton packed up his gear and set out towards the prison.
The weather turned warm around noon and he decided to stop for lunch. He’d probably only made a half-mile of progress in that time, but caution was more important than distance at that point. He couldn’t afford to twist an ankle or get caught out in the open. Speed definitely was not his friend.
After finishing his MRE, Patton stowed his wrappers and re-donned his pack. It seemed heavier now that he’d stopped, but once he got moving again, the hike over the loose, rocky ground became easier. Just as he was about to move out, Patton heard something mechanical. He stopped and craned his neck towards the sound. The sound went away but returned a few seconds later. He stopped and listened again. It was the deep rumbling sound of a large engine, definitely a large pickup truck or SUV.