by Angela White
2
No one missed a shot until the end of the round. Mary and Heather, two females Adrian had sent to the class for matchmaking purposes, didn’t get bulls-eyes, but Adrian was pleased that they had hit anything at all. For the women here, that was definite progress.
The third woman, Lexa, was a gun shop owner from Los Angeles. Short, with a big chest and a long, brown ponytail, she hit half the targets, making Adrian wish he could add her to his list for the next Level One Eagles. Her draw was beautiful, almost a perfect copy of his, and with a little instruction, it would become as natural to her as breathing.
Adrian wondered if he would ever get his Eagles to accept women on the teams. He needed one of these shell-shocked females to be a warrior in disguise that could hold her own among his army and make the rest of the camp accept it too. For now, though, it looked like Lexa was eliminated.
“Last shooter. Rebecca Ann.”
The cute teenager strolled casually to the line, and Adrian frowned as the crowd cheered and catcalled. Had she made it through the gun class somehow without him knowing it? There was always a wait because he hand filled over half the seats. Adrian was almost certain she hadn’t, but instead of immediately calling her on it, the leader let her have one try, thinking again of how much he needed one of these timid homemakers to secretly be Xena, the warrior princess.
Becky was innocent, sexy, playful, and many of his men were watching the slender girl, waiting for her sixteenth birthday in October, when it would be legal to ask her out. That included Kenn, but Adrian thought she had a thing for one of his other top guards. Either way, the girl would be something here. What, was up to her.
Rebecca’s reddish blond hair was wild with frizzy curls, and she brushed them back impatiently as she took her place, knowing she would only have this one chance to get noticed, to show these men she was useful. She’d almost swallowed her tongue when Adrian signed in, sure he would single her out.
“Any time you’re ready, shooter,” Jeremy encouraged, eager to get the next round going.
The nervous girl nodded. She was ready now, and she wanted them to know, needed Adrian to know.
Feeling the magic, the confidence of holding a gun she knew she could use, Becky pulled the trigger gently. The light recoil was well controlled, and she was smiling as she aimed and pulled, lined it up and pulled again.
The bullets dug into the targets, and she turned her attention to the frowning blond man moving her way while the crowd waited for the call.
“Eight hits, five bulls-eyes!”
They were as loud for her as they had been for Kenn, and Becky grinned in satisfaction as Adrian stopped next to her, impressed and displeased at the same time.
“That’s some impressive shooting.”
Her countenance lit up at his words, and then she dropped her head, remorseful. She hadn’t broken his rules lightly. Now, she would pay the price.
“I’m sorry.” She moved toward Jeremy without being told. “I have to withdraw.”
The Level Two Eagle frowned as the crowd muttered, and those who knew she hadn’t taken the class waited to discover if Adrian would let her ruin her own chances here by owning up to it. If she admitted she cheated, it would be a label that she’d carry forever.
“Why?” Jeremy questioned.
“Because I–”
“She forgot she has a shift with the vet. Right now, we’ll go on to the next round since we’re losing a shooter.”
Adrian’s calm words weren’t doubted, and his men were pleased. If Becky had ruined herself tonight, they couldn’t have shown any interest in her, not without losing their place by Adrian, and that was now something most of these men would never jeopardize.
“Rebecca is eliminated. Kenn will start round two.”
Becky smiled gratefully at Adrian as she left, thankful he’d chosen to stop her admission. His men weren’t the only ones who were aware of all she had just risked to be noticed.
“Three shots this time, and only those beyond twenty-five feet count. Bottom two will be eliminated.” Jeremy looked at Kenn. “You ready?”
The Marine opened fire in answer.
Deleted Scene #3
1
Adrian and Kenn reached the dust-covered farmhouse at the same time, both easily avoiding the Level Ones who were clustered behind the big barn. Daryl was nowhere in sight as the small group of men talked for a minute–Neil clearly refusing leadership, as instructed. When the rookies advanced, Adrian saw it was Seth who led them.
The small team slowly swept the barn and shed but avoided the house, as Adrian had known they would. When they disappeared inside the barn, he and Kenn moved to the long porch of the farmhouse to enjoy the show.
This was a draft area, with wrecked army trucks, uniformed dead already stripped of their weapons, and doors kicked in, but there were no longer dried bloodstains, only charred frames in the distance, now mostly covered in sand. Thanks to the slight sloping hill, the camp’s view was blocked, but Adrian hated it even as he used it. To be out of sight, was to feel out of control.
As he and Kenn watched, a black-clad shadow with hardware on his back slid down a tree near the barn’s blind side. Daryl edged silently around the corner to the front doors and picked up a two-by-four from a tall stack that lay alongside the faded red cowshed. He slid it in the front door handles, quietly blocking an easy escape route without drawing any attention.
Those inside were peering out of the single window of the second floor loft, unable to view anything directly below the overhang, and without sentries posted, Daryl had full access.
Daryl unslung and hefted the grenade launcher to his shoulder in one smooth movement, entering their line of sight as he aimed at the window.
Faces ducked, and men yelled a late warning as he fired.
“Incoming!”
“Get down!”
Glass shattered, and a loud hiss of smoke echoed as the canister exploded in a huge cloud of tear gas. Everyone bolted for the blocked doors, shoving and throwing themselves against wood that wasn’t quite rotten enough to break.
Hearing panic and leadership, Adrian and Kenn joined Daryl in front of the barn as thick, gray smoke roll out of the broken window and from under the molding boards.
“Door’s blocked!”
“Shoot us out!”
“Can’t see!”
“Someone light a flare, and do it now! Everyone else, shut up!”
There was immediate silence and then that same last, assertive voice, “There. Up and out the window. Move! Alex, Jack, you two go first and provide cover.”
The men were climbing out seconds later, dropping from the loft’s overhang into the thick sand, and everyone had a laugh at the sight of Adrian holding up his watch.
“That beats the last time. New record! Gather around,” Adrian lit a cigarette, noting that Seth was already the center of his team. Good.
“Eagle Four is due through here in about thirty minutes. Your mission is to keep all of them away from me. I’ll be somewhere in the house. Daryl is your hostage. He goes in a chair in the middle of the road. Set the rest of it up as you will. When the vest goes off, you’re out. Questions?”
There was none.
That’s a mistake they won’t make next time, he thought, turning to Neil. “Who took charge after the smoker?”
“Seth.”
Adrian nodded, eyeing Neil’s hat. It was clear now that he’d never get the trooper to wear any cover but that Arizona Gray. Adrian had decided that was all right. It showed the men that they could be his and their own, at the same time.
“You’re the leader here. Seth is your second. Weapons go under the wheelbarrow. Move ‘em out.”
Neil gave Adrian a glance that said he had questions, but he knew this was to teach the men and didn’t ask them. Neil liked the unexpected thought of himself as a drill instructor in Adrian’s army. That was usually Kyle or Doug’s honor.
“Let’s go, in the barn,�
�� Neil instructed the rookies. “Seth, make us a plan. Alex and Jack on guard. One from the roof, one in that tree. Move out.”
Adrian and Kenn watched them from the dust-covered porch of the farmhouse as the battle plan emerged. One Eagle used the huge concrete planters to the side of the loosely bound “hostage” in the road as cover, two men staying inside the wide-open barn doors. Two more ducked under the dusty bushes to the left of the big shelter, and a final man lurked behind the wide, paint-chipped shed at the side of the barn.
They spread themselves out, a wall of strength between the road and the gritty porch where Adrian and Kenn were talking quietly.
“Who’ll make it through?”
“Kyle, for sure.”
“You want an extra body guard?”
“Of course. The last set of gear is for you,” Adrian handed it to him. “You’ll be in the house somewhere too, as a surprise.”
They grinned and smoked, watching the men fidget. When the faint sounds of engines came, definitely the quiet Safe Haven setups, Adrian pointed.
“I’ll be in the room directly above us. Have fun with Kyle and keep track of Seth. I want to know how he handles himself.”
2
From his second floor vantage point, Adrian observed it all. As soon as he detected the shadow sneaking toward the house, he knew who would win and was impressed.
Kyle’s invading men slid through the un-harvested hayfield behind the dusty yard within a few minutes, the engine left running a very good distraction technique. Adrian wondered if Kenn had distinguished the shadow coming in the rear door. Probably. Kenn missed little.
Kyle’s team slowly eased closer. When they were in range, Kyle gave a short whistle that had Daryl rolling his chair onto its side in the sand, clearing a line of fire for the Level Threes, who immediately began to shoot. Vests flashed brightly as the attack started.
No one yelled or called out orders, and only two of the more experienced Eagles had been shot when it was done. Watching from the window as they rounded up the rookies, Adrian waited patiently. There were still two more surprises.
Kenn opened fire from inside the front door as Kyle’s men approached carelessly, and he got them all. He darted to another window and hit one of the two men running by.
Kenn took up a defensive position a few feet from the stairs that led to Adrian, the annual paintball competition they’d won at Fort Defiance this year making his movements smooth.
Floorboards creaked to his right, and Kenn shoved his gun around the corner, firing in a sweeping motion that sent blue lights flashing off gritty windows and faded gifts still under a drooping tree.
It lit up the house and allowed Kenn to notice the shadow he’d missed. He had time to witness the deep satisfaction fill Kyle’s pale eyes, and then his vest began flashing too.
Out, Kenn flipped him the finger.
Kyle smirked, easing up the stairs.
The door at the end of the long hall was open. There was only one blurred set of prints on the dusty floor, and Kyle relaxed at the sight of Adrian sitting on the edge of a cluttered, cobwebbed dresser.
“Congratulations on making it past Kenn.”
Kyle grinned, entering the small room. “We won?”
“Soon as we shake on it.” Adrian held out his hand, body language full of warning.
Missing the clues, Kyle’s arm moved, and he froze as the flashing blue lights of his vest began to bounce off the walls.
I’ve been shot!
Caught completely off guard, Kyle searched the shadows in disbelief for his assassin. The Genovese Captain had never been beaten with only surprise used, not even by Kenn.
“Who is that?”
Seth came out of the dusty darkness. Trying not to gloat, he holstered and removed the black cap that had hidden his red hair from the mobster’s sharp gaze. “The last man standing.”
“Excellent,” Adrian praised. “Come on. Let’s get to camp.”
Kyle turned to Adrian, angry. “Was this your plan? Was he here the whole time?”
“I came up about two minutes before you did,” Seth said. “Kenn was the only one who knew exactly where I’d be.”
“But I saw you…”
They followed Adrian while they talked about it, and when Kyle laughed at something Seth said, Adrian decided it had gone very well. Both teams had learned lessons, especially Kyle’s, and they’d bonded a little more. When the time came, they would now have these exercises to guide them.
Deleted Scene #4
It only took twenty minutes and one try to get the canopy up and staked down.
Adrian was pleased as they gathered around him again.
“What’s next, Jeremy?”
The lightly bearded man considered. “The bottom of our area?”
“Yes. We’ll be here for another day, so we can’t let it drain onto the ground. We’ll stake down the tarp, but leave the edges loose. Curl them so the mess runs into the watering tubs we have in the trucks. We’ll also cut two metal cans in half and keep fires burning to deter the insects.” Adrian looked at his watch, “You have twenty minutes, gentlemen. Go.”
It took them less than half that and they gathered around him again.
“See how Kenn keeps a slipknot in the end? That’s for the hooves. Always double your rope over the branch, but not on top of each other. Place them side by side on the limb and you’ll get more support because the weight distribution is better. Doug, how thick should the branch be for a cow?”
“At least ten times the size of your rope. You have to account for not only the animal’s weight, but also the lift and struggle, and then the hours it has to hang.”
“Alright, we’ll need four pullers on each rope and two steadiers with me. Strongest people go on the inside of the rope line, while the men on the end stake it down. Those with me should know there will be blood and I will not tolerate being puked on again,” Adrian said.
The reference to the previous month’s lessons at a chicken farm in Northern Wyoming provoked laughter, but they also knew he was serious. The man who had done it was no longer a part of Adrian’s Eagles.
Doug and Kenn were on the inside of each rope, the big Irishman’s face swollen and black where it wasn’t covered by the bandage. Every man there was glad he’d come anyway, especially when the vet came through the trees leading a huge black-on-white cow by a thick rope around its neck. Attached to the cow’s wide back was a harness tied to a sled. On the sled was a large wooden crate that grunted and squealed to protest the bumpy ride.
Chris handed the ‘leash’ to Adrian and left, not looking at any of them.
Adrian knew his men felt the vet’s displeasure. The man had been allowed to stay, despite his nasty mouth, because the camp needed to raise food. But the vet was angry and sullen. He believed slaughtering animals, even for food, was wrong. To Chris, not only humans had earned a new chance by surviving the war.
Adrian agreed they didn’t want to raise animals by the thousands in warehouses again, but they would produce their own food. They had to.
“We have to eat,” he said getting their attention back. “We’re going through the stuff we find as quickly as it’s brought in. Fresh meat will keep us out of the reserves, but anyone who feels like Chris is excused. I won’t force you.”
No one moved and Adrian was pleased. These were hard-asses, this team handpicked for their strength, and he had high hopes for them. He turned to Jeremy and Kevin, his steadier’s. “Your job is exactly what it sounds like. As I slice, one of you will slide the tub under and then help the other keep the flow going into it. When they pull, I’m gonna cut, but the legs will kick and they can knock you out, so be careful.”
Adrian gave the pulling crew a look. “Slow until I make the cut, then fast and steady. Don’t jerk any more than you have to and watch the other rope. Don’t race. Stay even.” He looked around. “Everybody ready?”
DOC Article
USA Today
December
21
Betrayal, Lies are Foundation of American Politics!
The Gospel of Mary was discovered in southern France last month and has now been proven genuine by experts secreted in to test the parchments. In them is a tale of murder, extortion, kidnapping, and forced reproduction that scientists claim have kept secret the descendants of Jesus Christ. The list of powerful families around the globe being accused is staggering.
This story began more than a thousand years ago, with a secret that millions have now died to keep. If proven true, it is a deception so big that it might have changed the entire world.
The Knights Templar was officially sanctioned in 1190 by the Roman Catholic Church, but what if they existed long before that? What if they escorted Mary Magdalene out of Gaul and settled her somewhere safe? We’ve heard the speculation that her offspring became kings through the Merovingian line, but what if they were also the descendants of Christ? Reports do tell of a young girl named Sarah that traveled with Mary after the crucifixion. The daughter of Jesus?
The Gospel of Mary, found during an archeological dig at an unnamed location, implies that the wealthy intentionally repressed all such knowledge, creating a secret sect to hide the truth. Most of the men, according to the parchment, believed they were protecting these special females. They took them to the Cathars, a religious order in southern France that was also under control of the Catholic Church, content to leave them there. The Church certainly didn’t expect trouble from one woman, but within a few years, the Cathars had turned against the Church and created a new religion based on love of God without control or wealth. Terrified of the world finding out, of having to give up all their power and decadent ways of living, the Church began the Albigensian crusade and eradicated them.
So what happened to the descendants that the Cathars died to protect? According to the Gospel of Mary, many escaped and walk among us, even now, in the form of their offspring. Most of the Knights were for the truth coming out, were beginning to rebel against the Church, as well. They were wiped out the same way the Cathars were, but stories abound of a few brave souls being able to save the precious remaining descendants, ensuring the bloodline of Jesus Christ. With the Church hunting them down, these groups of saviors went into hiding with their wards. When they finally emerged, they called themselves the Freemasons…and they were powerful.
