Thomas stared at Stryker with outrage in his expression.
“Try that on somebody else; I’m not impressed.” Stryker leaned forward over the table, and stood until he loomed over the Captain. “I don’t like repeating myself.” Stryker’s voice was a growl.
Thomas stared back at him, then his eyes moved to the floor and he glanced back before looking away again.
“We can’t give up on all the progress we made on the base,” He finally whispered.
“We may have to.”
“I can’t do that. My men would rebel.”
“Then figure out how to get them to mass together, and we’ll fix this.” Stryker was growing exasperated himself and tiring of what appeared to be a pointless conversation.
“Nothing is coming to me.”
Stryker sat back and closed his eyes. Thomas stared at him as he appeared to fall asleep, then got up and left the room. He concluded that the marine was one more hollow promise in what appeared to be a world filled with no solutions.
Stryker listened to Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young singing the song, Find the Cost of Freedom from the “Four Way Street” album and felt himself slipping into a near coma. He was aware of his surroundings, and the fact the captain had left the room, but felt almost as though he had left his body and was floating above the conference table.
An hour later, his eyes opened and he stood up. While he still had no solution to the problem, he felt as though he was on the verge of one and decided to head back to see Edwards and see what he could come up with.
Stryker stopped at a bathroom after he walked up the gangplank to the ship and did his business. He stopped to wash his hands and glanced in the mirror, and then stared back at himself and did not like what he saw.
He knew then there was no solution. Whatever happened was going to involve a lot of blood and precious treasure. It was on him to make it happen.
It was time to own up to his conduct and to divorce himself from getting other people injured. He wondered if he had the courage to walk away from all those who were dear to him; was the stone cold killer warrior gone forever, or did he have the stones to do what he knew needed to be done?
Then, he broke down and cried. The sobs grew in volume, and he looked around him, embarrassed and suddenly self-conscious and vulnerable. The thought of leaving Erin and the rest of his group felt like a dagger in his chest, and he opened the tap and splashed water over his eyes and blew his nose with a hand towel from the wall dispenser.
Stryker stared again in the mirror and his sobbing subsided. He gained control of his breathing and made a decision that horrified him. He owed Erin an explanation, and it would be the hardest thing he ever did, but he steeled himself against every fiber of his being screaming at him to not take the irrevocable step he was about to take, and a grim smile came to his lips.
He would live with it. He had to.
Stryker walked to the clinic like a man on his way to the gallows, and stopped outside the door, tried to reconsider his course of action, and decided there was no use.
The die was cast.
The bullet was already in the air.
He would do what needed to be done, and to hell with the rest of it.
He opened the door and walked back to Edward’s room. Elle and Erin sat next to the bed in chairs, and Haley was perched on the foot of mattress, chatting with Edwards.
“I’m leaving,” Stryker announced.
“Where you going?” Edwards asked.
“To finish this.”
“Not without me,” Edwards replied, pulling the covers back. He fell back into bed without getting to his feet and winced in pain.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Erin asked, rising to her feet and approaching Stryker.
“I owe you all an explanation, so here it is. I’m not involving any of you in anything that could get you hurt. I’m going out there and killing the rest of these assholes, and none of you are going to be involved in any way. From this point on, I am dead as far as you are concerned, and there’s nothing else to say.”
Stryker turned on his heel and left the room.
He heard the pounding of footsteps on the hallway behind him, turned around and watched as the three women approached him, with Erin in the lead.
“Stop right there.” Stryker wore a threatening look and all three women pulled up short of his position. “You didn’t listen,” he said in a whisper. “I’m dead as far as all of you are concerned. Go back and take care of Edwards, and leave me alone.”
He turned again and started to walk away again. Erin followed him and tugged on his blouse sleeve with a surprising force, spinning him around.
“You’re not dead,” she said. “And, you’re not going anywhere without me.”
“Erin, I love you and I know you love me. But, we’re over now. I can’t walk away from what needs to be done and please don’t make it harder than it already is.” He kissed her and again walked away to the sounds of her sobs echoing behind him in the passage as he walked away. He fought back a sob of his own, and continued down the hallway.
Stryker went back to their cabin and geared up. He grabbed his M-4 and messenger bag after donning his vest, and picked up a blue blouse that Erin had left on the bed. He held it to his nose, inhaled deeply and smiled, then placed the blouse in the messenger bag.
He walked out of the cabin and down the gangway, and then made his way to the comms center.
”Where are they now?” Stryker asked.
“Still hunkered down in the same locations,” a small man replied from the desk.
Stryker walked out of the comms center and into the barrel of an M-4 pointed at his head.
“Jesus,” he muttered.
“The bullet’s already in the air for me too.” Erin peered down the barrel of the weapon and into Stryker’s eyes.
“Just lower the gun,” he replied.
“I’ll kneecap you if you try to leave without me,” she growled.
“Okay, just lower the weapon.”
Erin pointed the muzzle to his left kneecap and continued staring at him.
“Where did you get the ‘bullet in the air’ thing?”
“Blaine told me about your conversation last night. Not exactly confidence-inspiring, is it?”
“You know we are both going to die?”
“I’d rather die with you than without you.” Her voice was clear and decisive.
“You sure about that?”
“Yes.”
“Problem is I don’t what you to die.” Stryker said.
“No, the problem is I don’t want you to die, so should I just kneecap you now and get it over with?” Her thumb released the safety on the weapon and her finger tightened around the trigger.
“I could take the weapon from you,” he countered.
“Not before I fire it.”
“Actually, I probably could.”
“I wouldn’t recommend trying it,” she replied tersely.
“You would really shoot me?”
“In a heartbeat.” The two stared at each other for a long moment and Stryker felt himself relaxing and the beginning of a grin forming on his face.
“You really would have shot me?”
“Yes.” Her expression was grimly determined.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“Well, no.”
“Good because I’m not. Are willing to discuss this with me now?”
“I guess.”
“This is the second time you’ve crapped out and stopped using your head. Both were caused by you beating up on yourself over bad decisions, and yet you want to make another one. This was not a good idea.”
Stryker looked away, stinging from the truth of her statement and unable to form a reply. He knew she was right, but was unable to accept the fact that she was.
“Do you remember when you told me how your gramps taught you right from wrong outside a store in
Texas?”
“Of course.”
“Do you remember when he told you that the best weapon against evil is your brain?”
“Sure.”
“Do you believe it?”
“Absolutely,” Stryker replied
“Take it to heart and start using it again.” Her voice was not at all sympathetic and rang harshly in his ears. “You have the finest mind I’ve ever encountered, yet you do dumb things.” Her voice softened as she continued, “Please stop it now and let’s put our heads together and figure out a way to eliminate the threat without getting ourselves killed.”
Stryker noted her weapon was pointed away from him, but he struggled with his anger and frustration a moment longer before capitulating.
“You’re right. I’m wrong.” He said it quietly, his expression sheepish.
“Thank you.”
“You weren’t really going to shoot me, right?”
“You’re better off not knowing the answer to that because you wouldn’t like it. Now, let’s go talk to Edwards and figure this thing out and get on with killing the diaper heads.”
“I really want to know.”
“Fine, I wasn’t going to kneecap you; that might have crippled you. But you have freakishly thick thighs, so I was going to go for the top of the left one and take you down for a week or two and give you a chance to think things over for a while.”
“You have got to be kidding me. You planned the whole thing?”
“On my way over here. I was pretty much resigned to having to shoot you and just tried to figure out how to do it without crippling you for life. Top of the thigh on the outside of the leg has no major never bundles or arteries, so you would have been fine.” Erin paused, and then added, “There are some advantages to being a nurse.”
“I guess I feel lucky to be walking.”
“You are.”
“So, you want to go talk to Edwards now?” Stryker asked.
Yes,”
“Lead on. I’d rather not have you behind me with a loaded weapon.”
“You going to try anything stupid like ditching me and going out on your own?”
“No, I don’t want to get back shot.”
“One last thing,” Erin added. “When this is over, we are going to settle down and start a family and never look for trouble again. You got that?”
“Loud and clear,” he replied in a wary tone.
“The problem is that you say that, and you may even mean it. But, you don’t feel it the way I do and that has to change. At some point, we need to live normal lives. So, this is going to be your last rodeo before you start changing diapers and doing normal things, or the next time I decide to shoot you, I’ll put one between your eyes. And, as a nurse, I can assure you that one will not have you limping around for a few days.”
She turned at stalked off toward the ship. After a few steps, she turned back and motioned him to her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Stryker and Erin walked into Edward’s room in the clinic and saw that both Elle and Haley were still there. Elle sat next to the bed, and immediately began staring daggers at Stryker as he moved across the room.
“That shit stops now,” Erin growled to Elle. “He feels bad enough about what happened and you don’t need to pile on.”
Elle furrowed her brow and assumed a mulish look.
“I mean it,” Erin whispered as she approached her. “He saved our asses more than once and Blaine would not be alive if Caleb hadn’t done what he did. You need to check the attitude now or get the hell out of the room.”
“I’m leaving,” she said with a tight voice and stood.
“Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out,” Erin replied.
Elle slammed the door as she left.
“You two are going to sit here until you figure out a way to get this situation under control. Haley and I will bring you sandwiches for lunch if need be, but nobody leaves this room until you have a plan.”
Stryker nodded his agreement after shrugging.
“Haley, let’s go.” Erin turned and left the room with Haley following behind.
“Jesus, did you feed her steroids this morning?” Edwards asked after letting a safe amount of time pass.
“No, but she was going to shoot me if I tried to leave.”
“Are you shitting me?” Edwards gaped at him in disbelief.
“No, she even had the wound area thought out.”
“I hope it wasn’t your nuts.”
“Upper thigh. No major arteries or nerve bundles.”
“So she was really going to shoot you?”
“I think so,” Stryker replied, and then took a seat.
Edwards started laughing and pointing at Stryker, occasionally stopping to wheeze when his wounded lung starting crapping out.
“What the hell is so funny?” Stryker asked, trying to stifle back a laugh.
“You,” Edwards answered between bouts of laughter. “You backed down from a woman half your size.” Gales of laughter ensued from both men and, when they both stopped, Stryker cleared his eyes and shook his head sadly.
“I guess we better work on a plan,” he said.
“We’ve talked about this endlessly and we both know that we can’t do anything if we can’t get them to mass together so we can use air power. You keep trying to figure out another way, but maybe you should focus on making the one thing that is obvious work.”
“I’ve tried.”
“Well,” Edwards answered, “You were always the brains of our operations, so I don’t have much to offer.”
“That’s a really sad statement about both of us,” Stryker replied dryly.
“Fuck you.”
“Naw, I’m trying to cure my gayness so that’s a no go.” Stryker replied with a smile.
“So, you want to talk it through?” Edwards asked.
“I guess so, but we have to start by asking what they want, and that stumps me. I have no idea why they came here, or why they keep coming at us despite the losses they’ve suffered. It makes no sense to me.”
“Well, we know they want to kill us,” Edwards offered.
“Yeah, but there must be something else. There must be something they need to survive somewhere around here, and we are standing in the way.”
“What could that be?” Edwards asked.
“No clue. But, whatever it is, they must see it as vital to their survival. The problem is we’re used to thinking tactically. We get it when enemies want to take a ridge line or a city, but we don’t understand the strategic part of things that well, and that must be what we’re missing.”
“Does it really matter? If we can get them to mass together, we win with air strikes. So, let’s focus on that.”
“They are still hunkered down where they were when we came out.” Stryker replied.
“Shit, that is not good. What the hell are they up to?”
“No clue and I’ guessing we’re not going to find out since I’ve been grounded.”
“Well, the basics are water, food, shelter and sex,” Edwards said.
Stryker sat back in his chair. Some nerve ending tingled and he felt himself lapsing into a trancelike state. His mind sorted through possibilities with images of the last few days flying by as his cognitive portion of the brain worked on the problem, but the images continued to go by and he sat for close to a half-hour before looking up.
“You’re right,’ he finally said. “We have to figure out how to get them in a large group and use air power. There is no other way.”
“You think of anything?”
“Not yet. But, knowing enough to eliminate everything else is a step in the right direction.”
“What do we actually know about them?” Edwards asked.
“We know they traveled, mostly walking, across one of the widest deserts in the world in the middle of summer. We know they are determined and committed, and we know they have forced us into fighting their kind of war, so they can’t
be stupid.”
“What does that last part mean?”
“It means they were smart enough to disperse after we hit them the last time and negate our air power, and they left stragglers on the trail to take us out. That’s the kind of shit they did in the sandbox, and they are getting away with it here.”
“So, the only thing we know they want is to kill us?” Edwards said.
“Well, we know that much for sure, what else they want is a mystery, but you’re probably right about the Maslow’s Hierarchy thing. The fighters I killed in hand-to-hand smelled like a garbage pit on a hot day. I’m guessing they are low on water and food and haven’t really rested in quite a while. There’s not much between El Centro and here, and I didn’t see any stockpiles of food or water on the semis we blew up, so I am guessing they are getting short of everything and will stop in Alpine to find food and water.”
“That’s thin.”
“It’s a guess. And, it might not be a good one, because they are spaced out over a twelve click area from north to south, and that isn’t what you would expect if they are planning to provision.”
“Why not? They probably think they have all the time in the world to get here. Hell, they may be dreading facing us as much as we want to avoid getting the base destroyed.”
“Maybe, but they would have to collapse a long line to get food and water to everyone in Alpine. It just doesn’t make sense to me.”
“Maybe we just have to let them bring the fight to us and duke it out here. They don’t have any heavy weapons left and we could probably make short work of them.”
Both men remained silent and continued to work away at the problem.
Finally Edwards asked, “What was that about this morning? Did you have some kind of giant brain fart or something?”
Stryker looked away, feeling embarrassed and chagrined. “I don’t know, it happened before on our way here and I just sort of checked out. I know I was really frustrated and angry and pissed off at myself over you being wounded, but I don’t know how I got from there to wanting to do a suicide mission.”
STRYKER - OMNIBUS: BOOKS 3-5: A Post Apocalyptic Tale Page 27
