by Alex Howell
Now it was up to Mason and his crew to crash through the front. This was Mason’s first time doing this in live action, but he had actually practiced beforehand in mockup exercises provided in training. So it was that with only his foot to use as a barricade, he looked at the doorknob and visualized where the locking mechanism was.
Aiming for right where the lock connected to the wood. he stepped back and delivered a punishing kick to the door. In a thunderous explosion of wooden splinters, the door flew open just as Mason and his men poured into the room. They were immediately confronted by a guard that came around the corner but the man was dispatched by one of Mason’s compatriots who turning him into a bloody piece of swiss cheese shot the man in the hand, arm, shoulder, and stomach.
He dropped his weapon as he crumpled to the floor like a piece of bloody swiss cheese. The SEAL that shot up this terrorist was a veteran and crack shot. Amazingly his shots were indeed so precise, that they managed to completely disable the man without killing him. Although he would be scarred for life, this perp would survive.
As they passed through the living room Mason heard movement and looked to his left to see a door leading to the basement ajar—there was someone down there. Mason wishing to diffuse the threat before it reared its ugly had pulled a stun grenade from his belt and threw it down the basement steps, seeking to immobilize the targets with the loud flash bang of the incendiary.
In the aftermath, he had intended to charge down the steps and take out whoever was in there while they were still stunned by the blast. But what happened next, SEAL training certainly didn’t prepare him for. After the initial shouts from the bang and blinding light, the whole house was suddenly rocked by an explosion coming from the basement followed by much more dire screams of pain and suffering.
Completely dumbfounded Mason crouched down just a few feet from the basement door just in time to see blue flames shooting up the basement steps. Mason’s mind screamed, ‘What the hell is this? A stun grenade can’t do that!’
The ensuing screaming—the bulk of which sounded disturbingly like a woman and child—then suddenly choked off in mid-howl as if death had silenced them. Mason would later learn that his carelessly tossed stun grenade had actually rolled into the basement water heater and the spark of the flash bang had ignited the water heater’s tank, causing it to explode into a brief but tremendous subterranean inferno.
At the moment however, he didn’t really know what to think. And as he continued to watch this horror movie unfold, Mason was shocked to see the form of a man stumble up the steps and emerge into the living room. The man’s whole right side had been severely burned with the jeans and t-shirt he was wearing melted onto his singed flesh like plaster.
From his position, Mason immediately trained his weapon on the guy as he shouted, “Freeze right there! Don’t make a move!”
Mason was just following his training of course, when it came to detaining suspects, but the look on the man’s face was one he would never forget. He looked Mason right in the eye with a mixture of intense sadness, rage, indignation, and despair. As his face contorted into this ghastly stare, his blackened lips cracked open as if he were about to say something.
But before he could utter a single, solitary word, his body began to go into shock from the loss of blood and severe burns he had sustained, trembling uncontrollably, he collapsed in a heap of tortured humanity right there in front of Mason.
Mason grabbing his restrains ran right over and cuffed the perp. As he was doing so, he heard a rapid succession of shooting and shouting from one of the adjoining bedrooms. This was followed by David Trenton’s voice on his comm link telling him, “Mason, all clear—we’ve secured the hostages.”
David’s words were triumphant, but it seemed like a hollow victory as Mason considered the carnage that had taken place. The next thing he knew the sound of the alarm on his phone, had jarred him awake causing him to rear right up in his chair, flailing his arm and knocking his coffee all over his desk.
Seeing the mess that he made in his sleepy stupor, Mason shouted, “Shit!”
He then immediately reached for a nearby paper towel and began to clean up the mess. Checking the time on his alarm clock blaring phone, he saw that it was 6:00 in the morning. His worried thoughts moving toward Clara and Raina sleeping in their beds once again came to the surface.
Tossing a wad of hastily ripped paper towels onto the puddle of coffee that had formed, he trudged up the stairs of his basement to check on his loved ones. First, he went to Clara’s room where he spied her still asleep, nestled comfortably in her covers.
Walking down the hall, he then went up the stairs to the bedroom he shared with Raina. Upon poking his head into the room, he saw the first rays of the rising sun filtering through the blinds showering her peacefully slumbering form in a warm, brilliant glow. He lingered in the doorway a moment, taking in the serenity of the scene, before turning away and quietly promising, “Even if it’s the last thing I do—I will keep you safe—don’t worry.”
A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER IN MASON’S KITCHEN
Going on about a full hour of sleep, Mason had more energy than he should have. Ever since his early days in the SEALS, he had learned a long time ago the benefits of a power nap. His body had seemingly learned to make the most of small amounts of sleep. And as he prepared breakfast for his wife Raina and his daughter Clara, he was more invigorated than the latter two which had their full 8 hours.
Raina entered the kitchen first to find Mason busy, vigorously stirring a pan of scrambled eggs. She stepped over to him and looking over his shoulder at the eggy residue in the pan remarked, “Your up—did you even sleep?”
Mason remarked, “Yeah I got about an hour…”
Raina asked incredulously, “An hour of sleep?”
Going to the fridge to grab some orange juice she remarked, “That is definitely not healthy….”
Clara then came into the room and sniffing the air commented, “Wow—dad’s cooking we’re in for a treat.”
Raina at first thought that Clara was being sarcastic as she raised an eyebrow, “Really?”
Clara nodded, “No I mean it—he’s a good cook. I love his sugary eggs.”
Prompting Mason to realize, “Oh crap… I forgot the sugar.”
Clara crossed her arms across her chest, as she jokingly pouted, “What? No sugar! Daaad! You’ve got to be kidding me!”
Raina remarked, “Umm… could you just borrow some from the neighbor?”
Mason recalling how not too long ago the neighbor had witnessed him in a gun battle with a suspect in his own front yard, knew that his neighbors had been a little skittish of him as of late. And as such he demurred, “Uhh… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Not to be denied however, Mason began tearing through the pantry until he found something that he thought might be of use. Grabbing a container from the top shelf he exclaimed, “Yes! Coffee creamer!”
Clara’s eyes widened in surprise, “Coffee creamer? In scrambled eggs!”
Mason nodded, “Yeah! I used to use it as a substitute all the time back in Basic Training!”
He then stepped over to the pan of eggs on the stove and gave it a liberal sprinkle of the coffee creamer as he remarked a bit paradoxically, “Just a little dab will do ya!”
Mason then picked up the pan and walked over to the two women seated at the table and served up a generous portion of scrambled eggs for each of them before scooping up a batch for himself and taking a seat as well.
Clara stared at the strange egg/coffee hybrid as if she wasn’t going to eat it. Although she was 19 at the time, she and Mason seemed to revert about 10 years into the past as he sternly ordered, “Clara eat your food.”
She retorted, “I don’t think I want it…”
Mason insisted, “Eat it!”
Raina meanwhile, playing the role of permissive step mother, offered, “Mason… If she doesn’t want to eat it—just leave her alone. That’s her
choice.”
But where force of words failed, Mason always knew that he could get results by subtle displeasure, as he sighed, “Fine…”
Clara feeling bad, took the bait and backpedaled, “Oh, alright. I’ll give it a try.”
Finally, she took a bite, and quickly putting the spoon down as if she wished she hadn’t, she lied, “It’s delicious!”
Mason was then about to dig into his own food when he heard his doorbell ring. Since the recent threats to his family had been revealed, every single knock on the door and buzz of the doorbell struck Mason like a blow.
Such intrusions were usually some solicitor wanting to sell something but nevertheless, Mason couldn’t help but wonder and worry over who could be lurking on his doorstep. He now took every impromptu visit to his home with the utmost of caution. As Clara and Raina watched him in muted silence, Mason immediately stood up and opening a cleverly hidden drawer under the kitchen counter grabbed his gun.
He then looked at Raina and Clara and told them, “Stay here.”
Raina thinking there was a better way, offered, “Mason—you have security cameras outside. Just pull them up on your phone….”
Mason mentally reprimanding himself, replied, “I left my phone in the basement—there’s no time for that.” Mason cocking the gun and putting it down at his side, again advised, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. Just stay put.”
Clara watching her father quickly head out of the kitchen and into the living room toward the front door with gun at his side sighed, “The Avon lady just might be in for a big surprise today.”
As his training had dictated long ago in such an unknown situation, Mason kept his gun partially concealed by his person as he opened the door just enough to poke his head through. He mentally told himself if it was a lawn treatment guy or salesman hawking a vacuum cleaner, not to go off on them.
But as soon as he looked through the door, he saw it was none of those. Looking back at him was the face of David Trenton. Meeting Mason’s gaze David asked, “Hey Mason—can we talk?”
A FEW MOMENTS LATER BACK AT MASON’S KITCHEN TABLE
Mason, Raina, Clara, and David Trenton were all seated around Mason Walker’s kitchen table. Mason had just poured David a cup of coffee before taking a seat. David sipping on the beverage expressed, “Thanks for the coffee Mason.”
He then added the offhand remark, “I couldn’t sleep last night…”
Mason taking a bite of his now ice-cold eggs sympathized, “Yeah, you’re not the only one.”
It was Raina seated across from David who then ventured, “So have you thought of anything else that you would like to tell us?”
David nodded, “I believe that this group—both its members on the outside and the ones that got 18 years in the pen—have been planning their next move for quite a while now.” Mason raised an eyebrow, “Really?”
David nodded, “Yes… I think that they have been meticulously gathering as much intel on the identities of each and every SEAL member that was involved in the mission that foiled their hostage taking plot with James Kerry.”
Mason shook his head, “Wouldn’t surprise me...”
Mason then added cynically, “In this country prisoners get full internet access and some of the best prison libraries that tax payer money can provide.”
Mason sighed in disgust, “It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest if they were sitting in prison plotting their next attack with resources provided on the American tax payer’s dime.”
David agreed, “Yeah…” Before conceding, “Well great libraries if you avoid being shanked by a fellow inmate anyway...”
David then spoke up, “Anyway—I think that it’s imperative that we remain as proactive as possible on this case.”
Clara who had been quietly sitting next to her father then thought to ask, “Just how big do you think that this particular terror cell is.”
David despite himself, couldn’t help but chuckle at Clara’s language. Thinking of how professional her lingo was he remarked, “Terror cell? Wow—she has been around this business for a while huh Mason?”
Mason laughed, “Yeah—she has as much experience as just about any member of Onyx—that’s for sure.”
Without even answering her question, David looked at Clara and remarked, “You know you look just like Bree….”
The remark causing Clara to look down with a mixture of sadness and embarrassment as Mason sighed, “Yes… yes she does….”
David not wishing to be the harbinger of such sad emotion, quickly backpedaled, “Sorry Mason—didn’t mean to bring up painful memories….”
Mason waved his hand, “No it’s alright…”
David then looked up at Clara and told her, “But to answer your question….the network as far as I can tell is fairly expansive and consists of not only the veteran members from decades ago but zealous new recruits who are emboldened by ideology, promise of financial gain, or perhaps a combination of both.”
Clara asked, “Financial gain? What kind of financial gain?”
David nodded, “Yes… Through the payment of ransoms and outright human trafficking these creeps have made quite a bit of money for themselves.”
Mason’s daughter Clara had had her own encounter with the evil of human traffickers. It was a wicked affront that she understood all too well.
Seeing the disturbed look on her face, David felt compelled to reassure her, “But don’t worry—with the help of your father and the other members of Onyx, we’re going to cut off that cash flow for good.”
9
While You Were Out
A FEW HOURS LATER IN MASON’S ARMORY
All the main Onyx team members save Luke Simon were assembled in Mason’s basement trying to track down a lead on the suspects. Unbeknownst to most, Kyle was on the verge of a lead of his own as he studiously tracked the subtle GPS of one of the suspect’s cell phones.
Raina meanwhile was pouring over background data of the perpetrators last known whereabouts. Feeling burned out, she warily looked up from the screen and sighed, “Oh… This is too much…I think my eyes are about to pop out of my head from too much screen-time.”
Mason seated next to her put his hand on hers as he quietly asked, “You need a break?” Raina nodded, “Yeah… That would be nice.”
Mason then stood up, and she followed him up out of the basement. Stepping into the kitchen, and taking a seat at the kitchen table, Mason poured themselves another cup of coffee as he told her, “I think we could use another coffee break…”
Raina taking a sip remarked, “Sure…”
Mason suddenly feeling extremely guilty for all the interruptions in their life, blurted out, “Raina… look I’m really sorry about all this….”
Raina a bit surprised asked, “Sorry about what?”
Mason sighed in exasperation, “Oh I don’t know. About my past coming back to haunt me—about you being in danger just from being associated with me. The disruption to our lives is inexcusable.”
Mason sighed, “I mean…because of me even our own wedding, not to mention honeymoon—was completely disrupted.” Mason shook his head as he, commiserated, “Talk about starting marriage on the wrong foot—sorry for so much chaos right off the bat.”
Raina was quick to reassure him however as she insisted, “What? No way…You need to stop right there, Mason—that’s crazy talk. Seriously… There is no way that you are responsible for what these jerks are doing. Don’t blame yourself Mason—it’s not your fault.”
Mason felt better to hear such assurances from her and it made him realize that considering his line of work, he was actually quite lucky to have someone who could understand what it is that he did as well as Raina was able to.
Raina then reaffirmed this belief by what she said next. Taking Mason by the hand she told him in no uncertain terms, “Look Mason, this isn’t my first rodeo… I’ve been in danger like this before. It’s what I signed up to do.”
&nb
sp; She sighed, “Believe me I know that our job can get in the way of our personal lives… And if I could do something to prevent it I would.”
Raina then looked at him and continued, “But this is just one of those times…. People’s lives are at stake, and it could be our own family next. We have to do what we have to do Mason. Nothing more—nothing less.”
She smiled, “And really…about that honeymoon dear… it’s not over. It’s just a raincheck we’ll have to pick up right where we left off, when all of this is resolved.”
Mason couldn’t have said it better himself. He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the corner of her mouth as he told her, “I love you.”
Raina smiled, “I know baby—I love you too.”
After this touching moment the dynamic husband and wife duo, then finished their coffee before heading back down to the basement. A lot had apparently transpired since they embarked upon their little coffee break, because the Armory was now a flurry of activity.
And as soon as they took their seats, Kyle Garrison looking up from his laptop announced to all those assembled, “Okay, I’ve got it.”
Chris Bradley seated next to him asked, “Got what?”
At which Kyle informed him, “I have the coordinates for the terrorist safe house where the hostages are being held.”
Mason inching his chair a little closer asked, “How did you manage that Kyle?”
Benton seated across from Kyle answered for him as he informed the group, “I know how…”
Prompting Oliver Marshal standing nearby to ask, “How?”
Benton nodded, “It’s because I was able to gank one of the creep’s cellphones.”
The idea that Mathew could tail a suspect, and swipe their cellphone from them as soon as their back was turned, showcased just how capable of an operative the man was. Mathew Benton never ceased to amaze his colleagues.
