They finally came to a halt on their sides. Both men had their hands wrapped around the pistol attempting to point it at the other man. The barrel of the gun tilted back and forth slightly between Jim and Matt.
“Matt,” Jim pleaded, “don’t do this.” His teeth were gritted as the gun teetered back and forth slightly between each man’s grip. Jim could feel the grip on the pistol slowly slipping. Matt’s eyes were wild with rage and both men’s faces were turning red from the strain.
Then the gun went off. Both of them jolted from the sound of the gunshot; each man gasping for air. The color from each of their faces began to fade. Jim glanced down at the pistol still smoking in his hand and the blood dripping from Matt’s stomach as he tried to keep pressure on the wound in his gut. Matt flopped onto his back as Jim rose to his knees, hovering over him. Matt shook and convulsed on the ground. He looked up at Jim with his fading eyes and grabbed his collar with his bloody hand to pull him close. The words were barely audible when they left his lips. “You won’t be able to stop it,” he whispered, “Just keep them safe.” Matt’s fingers slowly lost their strength as they fell limp and his hand dropped to the ground.
Samantha screamed from the jeep as she crawled over the seats to get out. She hit the ground hard and stumbled over to Matt’s side, holding his face in her hands.
Annie sat huddled in a ball in the sand with Tigs curled right up next to her. Jim’s eyes rose from the scene in front of him to the charred skyscrapers of Phoenix in the backdrop while his sister’s screams filled the desert air.
It took a while for everyone to get debriefed after what had just happened. Locke himself had flown out once he’d been radioed. It wasn’t until his arrival that Jim was finally released. The sand, ash, and blood were still caked onto his sunburnt face as Jim found himself in a tent with Locke, a vacant chair, and another file. Locke motioned over to his assistant who came closer. “Get us some water,” Locke said. “Whiskey,” Jim said dryly.
Locke nodded and the boy left the tent. Jim stared blankly into the space in front of him. Locke didn’t want to press him for details on what happened, so he honored the silence with him.
“Did you know?” Jim asked.
“Know what?” Locke responded.
“That it was Matt.” Jim said.
“No,” he said, “but I had a thought that it could be. I needed to know for sure. I thought that if I sent someone he trusted he—“
“Wouldn’t try and kill them,” Jim cut him off.
Locke nodded. “Yes,” he said.
The assistant returned with a bottle and two glasses and placed them on the table between the two men. Locke reached for the glass, while Jim reached for the bottle. He twisted the cap off and pressed the opening to his chapped lips and took a long swig.
“Jim,” Locke started, “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now, son.”
“You can’t?” he asked. “You can’t imagine what it’s like to kill your sister’s husband in front of her and your niece? You don’t know what it’s like to have them look at you after it’s done?” he finished.
“No, I don’t,” Locke said.
Jim jumped to his feet with the bottle in his hand. He pointed his other free hand at Locke and started screaming. “No! You don’t fucking know! You don’t fucking know because you’ve never fucking done it! You could have told me the information you had! You could’ve told me what he might do! What he was a part of, but no, you had to be mysterious with your orders, not matter the fucking cost!”
The last word hung in the air the loudest. Jim’s face was beat red and his breathing was labored. He walked to the corner of the tent and kept his back to Locke who sat silent and motionless. Finally, the old general drummed his fingers on his leg and rose out of the chair. He folded his hands behind his back as he spoke. “Your father knew what it was like to follow orders,” he said. “The official report was correct when it said that over twenty of his men died, but what the report didn’t mention were the ten thousand people he helped saved in the small city where they were stationed.”
Jim’s grip on the bottle loosened as it hung limp between his fingers. Locke continued, “It was a classified mission in an area where we weren’t supposed to be. The boys back home had to cover their asses and mark him as a deserter to stop a war from happening.”
“Why are you telling me this?” asked Jim. “So I’ll understand why you didn’t tell me what was really going on?” The words left Jim’s mouth with a tone that was meant to sting. “No,” Locke said. “I told you because I thought you should know that your father wasn’t a coward. He wasn’t afraid of what needed to be done.”
He started to leave when Jim spoke again.
“We can’t stop it,” Jim turned around, “that’s what Matt told me when he was holding his guts in.” “Stop what?” Locke asked. Jim walked over and slid the whiskey bottle back on the table. “He didn’t say, but whatever it is it has something to do with the file that Twink stopped from being uploaded,” he said.
Locke nodded. “It’s a good place to start looking.”
Jim walked up to him. “Whatever you find out I want in on it. I want to find the bastards that are behind this,” Jim demanded. Locke put his hand on Jim’s shoulder. “The United States military owes you a great debt, son.” Jim shrugged Locke’s hand off him. “There isn’t anything you can give me to undo what I did.” Jim left Locke alone in the tent as he slid outside.
Twink and Brett were outside waiting for him. Brett embraced him in a hug, then Twink. Coyle stumbled out of the adjacent tent sporting a black eye as he rubbed his shoulder.
“Just a little piece of advice for you boys,” Coyle turned back around and three very pissed, angry men were looking at him, “don’t pretend to shoot military personnel,” he said. “They don’t like it much.”
Brett and Twink laughed. Jim saw Samantha and Annie in a jeep in the distance. He stood for a moment, then decided to walk over. Samantha saw him coming and she met him in the middle before he got all the way over to the jeep. Jim looked back into the jeep and saw Annie staring blankly into Tigs who sat on her lap. “How’s she doing?” he asked.
“Not good,” she said. The words came out icy, cold.
Samantha stood there with her arms crossed, with bits of caked mud on her face and shirt stained with her husband’s blood.
“I know why you did it,” she said.
Jim stood there silently.
“I’ll be able to forgive you one day. Just not now,” she said.
Jim simply nodded without response. Samantha turned and went back to her daughter. As Jim watched her walk away he’d thought about all he’d lost. He lost his home in San Diego. He lost his family in the desert. He’d been shot at and beaten bloody by people who wanted to hurt him. Now he had only one thing left.
He only had one thought on his mind. He was going to find the people behind this. He would hunt them down and make sure they’d pay. He was going to make them feel what he felt and God help anyone that got in his way.
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