Joseph

by Kris Michaels

  Chief dropped off the porch and headed towards her. She smiled up at him. “Mike, I’m sure you’ll protect me from any wildlife that may venture out of the hills. Look at the flowers. They’re so beautiful!”

  He smiled and shook his head. “Women! How can weeds be beautiful?”

  Ember laughed. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Haven’t you ever heard that? It’s the middle of June and the flowers are still blooming!”

  She dropped to her knees to pick some more of the blossoms. Ember heard a buzzing whizzing noise and looked up in time to see Mike’s body jerk and fall before she heard the report of a gun. If she’d still been standing, she’d have taken a shot to the chest. She saw the bullet explode through Mike’s jeans. She heard him roll from where he’d fallen as she dove into the grass after him. Taking his cue, she tumbled to the left violently and froze when she heard the slap of another bullet hit to her right.

  She whispered, “Oh God! Mike? Mike? Can you hear me?”

  “Yeah. It’s going to be okay. Stay where you are Ember. Don’t move. The grass is thick and high enough to camouflage our position. Don’t move. He has the upper ground and will see if you move an inch.”

  “You’re hurt. I need to take a look at that wound.”

  “If you move, you’re dead. You being dead wouldn’t help either of us, now would it?”

  Her heart pounded loud in her ears. Okay, that’s true. “What do we do? I need to assess your wound!”

  Chief’s chuckle was dry and reassuring. “Well, now all things considered, I think our best course of action is to wait. I don’t believe the bullet hit an artery. The bleed isn’t that fast. Don’t worry. Joseph heard that report. The guy up there has no idea he is being hunted. When it gets dark, we’ll move, but for now, we stay absolutely still. Do you understand?”

  “I’m not moving. How bad is your leg?” Her mind replayed what she had seen, a thigh wound, outside. It might not be life threatening, but it would be excruciatingly painful.

  “The bullet hole doesn’t seem to have a problem. I, on the other hand, would like a very stiff drink.”

  Ember laughed despite their situation. Silence extended for what seemed like hours. Chief was close. She could hear his rhythmic breathing. “Tell me about your woman, Mike. What is she like?”

  There was a long pause before he responded. “Desiree. Her name is Desiree. She’s a good woman with a very kind heart. She’s never been more than a hundred miles from home. Innocent and beautiful inside, you know what I mean?”

  “Yeah, I do. That’s important, being a good person. How long have you two been together?” Ember fought the urge to wipe the ants off her hand and instead blew them off.

  “Together? We aren’t. But I’ve known her for almost two years now. I met her when Jacob’s wife brought him out here to heal. She is young. Younger than I should be hanging around. She just turned twenty-four, twelve years younger than me. I told her there was no future for us, that she needed to find someone better for her.”

  Their conversation lulled, both lost in their own thoughts. A strong hiss from his position brought him back into focus. “Mike, what’s wrong?”

  He groaned and answered through what sounded like clenched teeth. “Muscles are cramping in both my legs. Not. Pleasant.”

  Ember closed her eyes. The physiology of the wound and the cramping indicated bleeding in excess of what he was letting on.

  “How much blood are you loosing?” Ember inched forward towards him.

  “Couldn’t tell you, Ember, I can’t see and I’m not moving to find out. Don’t you even think about moving!” His words were clipped in warning as he spoke to her.

  Ember dug her toe in and pushed herself another six inches in his direction. “Wouldn’t dream of it. God knows I always do what I’m told.”

  A bullet slapped the ground to her left, slamming down in front of her, kicking dirt up in her face. The report of the shot followed seconds later.

  Mike’s frantic whisper was immediate. “Ember? Are you alright?”

  “Yeah, not moving another centimeter. I promise!”

  “Damn it, Ember if you move again, he will kill you! I’m okay. I’ve been hit worse.” His voice rasped to her through the thick grass.

  “Mike? Is Joey better than this guy?” She struggled to hold her fear at bay and to keep him talking to her.

  Chief’s voice was perfectly calm as he replied with a breathlessness that had her worried. “Ember, Joseph is the most skilled assassin in the world. He…he is death. The man in those hills has no idea how close to his maker he is at this moment.”

  *

  The first of two muzzle flashes flamed to his left and up about two hundred feet. The first bullet must not have found its mark. Joseph’s eyes searched the area near the house. He couldn’t see Ember or Chief. They were either in the cabin or concealed in the tall grass. If he couldn’t see them, the assassin above him couldn’t see them either. The most direct path to the assassin’s position would place him in the hit man’s peripheral vision, the most sensitive of all vision fields for an assassin. Moving away would cost him time, and he wasn’t sure how much time Ember and Chief had. He looked again at the field. If the killer thought he’d scored a hit, he would be on the move towards the meadow. There was no movement. Thank God.

  Joseph slowly worked another hundred feet to his left and then started a very methodical and controlled climb up the mountain before he veered right again. A shift in the lower area around a pine tree caught his attention. Freezing automatically, Joseph’s eyes moved in a strip and grid search of the terrain. The bush beside the tree moved slightly and Joseph discerned the shape of the sniper’s rifle supported by a rock at the base of the tree. The gun jumped in the killer’s hand. The sharp report echoed down the valley. He closed his eyes, momentarily listening for the telltale soft thud of a bullet going through flesh and bone. All assassins knew the tone. He counted the seconds it would take to reach the valley floor but heard nothing. His focus once again landed on the man at the base of the snarled pine tree.

  Joseph thumbed the safety loop off his favored kill weapon. His blade. The balanced hilt sat in his hand perfectly. A steady inhaled breath aligned his target and his attention. Joseph could feel the beat of his heart. He ruthlessly pushed the flittering of birds from limb to limb into the background of his mind’s eye. The assassin became his only focus. Forward. Each foot placement became the difference between life and death. Forward towards the man who wanted to take Em from him. Adrenaline jacked his system. His training and experience had turned him into a lethal weapon. He became hyper-aware of every detail surrounding him, his target and the area they both occupied. His target’s attention focused on the field just as his centered on the assassin. The man moved slowly, carefully adjusting his scope. Joseph could tell he had located either Ember or Chief. The hit man inhaled a steadying breath. Joseph’s silent approach went undetected. He’d plotted a collision course to eliminate the man trying to kill the woman he loved.

  Discipline forced emotion from his mind. Joseph’s knife slipped around the neck of the man who knelt at the base of the tree. He pulled it tight against the Spaniard’s throat. “I hope you have made peace with your God, Scorpion. You went after my woman and for that I’ll kill you.”

  The man’s muscles tensed against the razor sharp edge of Joseph’s blade. A trickle of blood dribbled down his neck. The assassin’s quiet hiss carried far enough for Joseph to hear him. “Who are you? How do you know of me?” The certainty of the assassin’s death was the only reason Joseph answered.

  He pushed his knife deeper against the Spaniard’s neck sending a thicker stream of blood over the blade. “I have many names. I’m the Guardian.”

  Realization widened the man’s eyes as he sneered before he spat, “You’re Fury. Had I known she was yours, I would not have taken payment for the job. I would have raped and tortured her just to draw you out. Your death would be worth so much more than t
he killing of this whore.”

  Joseph’s sharp pull across the jugular ended the conversation. He held the man’s head up as his body slumped down. He watched with an unemotional detachment as life literally drained out of the assassin. No, there was no emotion, no regret. In order to survive, others died. Others died. Not him. Not Ember. Not Chief. Not today.

  The dying declaration of the assassin provided proof positive that Joseph could not involve Ember in his world. The life he led would follow him until the day he died. The idiocy of thinking about an ordinary life with Ember mocked him as he did what he was trained to do. He scanned the area methodically and waited to ensure he was alone on the mountain. Segmenting the terrain, he visually cleared it, ensuring there was no further threat before he stood.

  Looking down at the dead man he called out, “Ember?”

  There was silence and then Ember answered, “Joey? Chief’s been hit. He’s unconscious. Blood loss I think. I can’t see him.”

  “It’s safe to move. Help him.”

  He watched as she lunged forward and dropped into the deep grass again. “Ember can you handle the situation?”

  He waited for an agonizingly long period of time before she yelled back. “Yes. He’s alive, but he’s lost a lot of blood! I’m going to need help getting him into the cabin.”

  “Take care of him. I’ll be there soon.” Joseph picked up the dead man’s bag and started rifling through the assorted weaponry. He glanced up when he saw her run towards the cabin. His eyes followed her and waited until she emerged again with a pack and raced back toward the meadow.

  Going through the man’s equipment, he found a rugged laptop and a black ledger. He paged through the ledger and scanned the information. Joseph drew a deep breath and replaced the computer and book. Taking the assassin’s backpack, he strapped it on before he bent, lifting the man onto his shoulders.

  Pain ripped through his body. The sensation of ten thousand knives piercing his back and shoulder forced him to his knees. He dumped the body to the forest floor and gasped for air. The warmth of blood flowing over his wounds confirmed the damage the dead man’s weight had wrought. Fighting the black spots that invaded the edges of his vision, he pulled another rasping breath. Rage filled him. Anger at his weakness and physical limitations seethed deep and powerfully. Resentment of his body’s deficiency fueled his weak-assed attempt to move the man’s body. Grabbing the man’s collar, he pulled the man towards a rocky canyon. Joseph unceremoniously shoved the corpse over a ledge and watched as the body plummeted to the rocks below.

  There was no way down into the crevasse. He swept the ground where he had pulled the dead man’s carcass with pine tree boughs and erased all evidence of his movement. With a methodical dedication, he worked the trail back to the tree where the assassin had hunkered down. Joseph policed the brass from the assassin’s rifle and pocketed it. He scattered dirt and pine needles over the blood soaked ground. Finally, he worked a strip and grid pattern search to ensure nothing could indicate his or the assassin’s presence on the mountain. Even if the man was found, there could be absolutely no connections made. The sun had sunk behind the granite topped mountain before he walked out into the meadow.

  His approach behind her was silent. She didn’t see or hear him come to her side. She had fashioned an IV holder out of a stick and had it hanging above Chief’s head. Ember had cleaned and bandaged the wound and was taking his pulse when she looked up. Jumping to her feet, she grabbed him. His wounds screamed at the touch. His body seized. He pulled away barely stifling a groan.

  Joseph dropped his hands to his knees and braced himself in an attempt to remain standing. Nodding towards Chief he asked, “How bad is it?”

  Ember shrugged pulling her hands through her mass of curls. “Sit down before you fall down.”

  Only because he was going to fall down anyway, he sat down hard on the earth next to Chief.

  His girl knelt on the ground again. “Have your wounds reopened?”

  He nodded and drew a shaky breath. “Yeah. Bad this time. How is he?” Ember’s manner automatically transitioned. Her briefing was professional and to the point. “It was a through and through. The high caliber bullet from the rifle made one hell of a mess. The saving grace—it didn’t hit the bone. I stitched it up while he was out. He came to and was determined to move once I told him you said it was safe. So to prevent his macho ass from ripping out the stitches I just finished, I pushed some morphine in the IV. He is out for at least the next two to three hours. I’ve given him plasma, ringers and antibiotics for the infection.”

  Joseph looked at the medical bag beside her. “Where did you find that?”

  “Mike brought it. Said someone named Doc heard you were in poor shape and thought I might need it. It’s the best-stocked medical kit I have ever seen outside a hospital environment.”

  Her hand reached over the sleeping man. “Joey, is he gone? The guy with the gun?”

  He nodded and looked her in the eyes. “He’s gone. We need to get Chief in the cabin and call Jacob. This lug is going to be out of action for a while and I have to make a report.”

  Joseph was exhausted beyond any comparison he could recall. Getting Chief into the cabin proved to be misery rolled into anguish and tied up with suffering, but he managed without passing out. Barely.

  Once Chief was stabilized, Ember forced him face down on the bed and for the next two hours stitched Joseph’s lacerations closed. He refused anything other than a topical cream to lessen the pain. He had to stay alert until reinforcements arrived.

  She made no attempt to hide her emotions. She caressed his cheek with her fingers. “You should be on IV antibiotics Joey. Your wounds are infected. If you don’t let me treat you soon, you will have wound sepsis and possible blood poisoning.”

  He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. “I’ll submit to whatever treatment you need me to as soon as someone arrives.” Drained of all energy, he sat emotionless as he watched Ember move from the living room into the second bedroom where he could hear Chief mumbling in his morphine-induced slumber.

  Joseph concentrated on the task at hand. He hit redial and waited.

  “Alpha.”

  His response flat and to the point. “The contractor has been eliminated.”

  “Area, connections, and visibility?” Jacob’s mind was obviously ticking off the boxes Joseph’s actions this afternoon had already covered.

  “Area is clear, no connections and visibility is outward not inward. One non-lethal casualty, guarded condition with a seven point seven six millimeter round through and through to the left thigh, member sustained traumatic blood loss. Medical on scene apprises the member is down for at least a month.”

  Joseph’s concise report provided a shockwave of information yet Jacob’s professionalism never slipped nor did Joseph’s. “Define outward visibility.”

  “A paperback ledger showing payments and apparent routing or bank account numbers associated with the payments. Additionally, a computer was found. As the com specialist is down no attempted access to the hardware has been attempted.”

  “I’m sending a courier to secure the outward visibility, team members and primary.” Jacob’s voice changed as he asked, “When are you considering engaging the target?”

  Joseph closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. “I need help, little man. I’m tore up, I need rest and antibiotics. I have nothing left to give. I’ll hold out until you can get someone from the Annex out here. Once I’m patched up, I’ll work the target.”

  Jacob’s pause lengthened. “Is there helicopter access?”

  Joseph looked out to the field. “Yeah, meadow behind the house.”

  “Help is on the way. Hold on bubba. I got your back.”

  “Jacob?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

  Joseph cut the call before his brother could respond and looked at the email he had composed to his brother Jason, indicating a change to his last will and t
estament. Ember was to be his sole beneficiary for all his property and possessions. She would never have to worry about money as long as she lived. He watched her walk out of the kitchen as he hit the send button.

  She came over to him and placed a warm hand on his cheek. “How long?” He pulled her towards him and rested his head against her midriff. “They’re dispatching a helicopter from the Annex. Maybe an hour or less depending on who is flying and what type of bird it is.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Ember heard the helicopter before she saw the shadow of the massive machine drift over the cabin. The noise from the blades pulsed with a whopping thrum, shaking everything in the house. Loose grasses and leaves from the meadow launched in a frenzy of botanic debris as the massive dual rotor aircraft sank onto the field. Before the helicopter settled, two men jumped from the open side door. A hand held stretcher slapped the legs of the faster man as the two men raced towards the back porch.

  Ember watched them both vault the three steps to the landing. A tall blond wearing an eye patch saw her first and headed directly to her.

  “Dr. Adam Cassidy.”

  “Dr. Ember Harris. Chief is stable but critical. Extensive blood loss. No broken bones that I could determine. Massive tissue damage. I performed primary field triage and sewed him up the best I could. He will need surgery to clean him out and assess the actual damage. I have him on a morphine drip, plasma, and ringers lactate. The idiot tried to macho up and move, so I put him out.”

  Both men followed her into the second bedroom where Chief lay unconscious.

  “Roger that. Dixon and I’ll get him ready for transport. Where’s Fury?”

  Ember’s mind went blank. Huh? “What the hell is Fury?”