by Laura Acton
Please, God, No! Agony and terror lanced through his heart and soul, ripping them to shreds. Fate was always so cruel to him—fate took everyone he cared about in the most brutal way possible.
Ten Fateful Minutes
13
July 19
Marksmen Enterprises – Rooftop – 4:10 p.m.
Wow! They closed ranks so fast. Can’t see a tuft of the blond hair. Wait, just wait, Merrill told himself. Idiot Murphy got what he deserved. He didn’t aim properly, and he hit the general. Three well-placed shots and Murphy was gone. Those three were damned accurate and fast. Good thing I’ll be long gone before they suspect I was here. Quietly, he said, “All I have to do is wait. EMS will be there soon. They’ll have to move to take care of the general. Be patient for the opportunity. I’ll get my blond bobblehead soon.”
Courtyard Behind Church – 4:10 p.m.
After the initial frenzy and reaction to the shot, Blaze, Loki, Lexa, Jon, and Nick had rapidly formed a tight circle enclosing the general, Dan, Bram, Winds, and Patch. Weapons drawn by all, they faced out as they scanned for more threats. Ray swiftly returned and joined them.
After he carried Tammy inside and left her with her mother, Frank gathered members of Delta Team and hastily returned to the courtyard. They formed a secondary, protective circle around the first—unsure what if any additional threat was present. Nick pulled out his phone and contacted Tia to send EMS. Angus, Russ, Duncan, and Hal performed an intensive perimeter check to eliminate any other potential hostiles.
Dan struggled to move air in through the searing pain in his chest as he observed Patch and Winds work. His world was reeling. He was dizzy from lack of air, and he was covered in his father’s blood.
Seeing Dan struggle for breath, Bram knelt and slipped his hands under Dan’s armpits. “Let’s get you upright, it will be easier for you to breathe.” He lifted Dan and then positioned himself so Dan could lean against him.
Aware Bram held him upright, letting him lean against his broad chest, Dan gulped in short ragged bursts of air and prayed Patch could save his dad. Bram talked to him—the buzzing in his ears told him, but he couldn’t distinguish words yet. External sounds rushed back in, everyone talked over each other—it was confusing, so he just focused on the general.
Looking at his father, who lay unconscious and bleeding out on the ground beside him, Dan’s mind raced with thoughts which staggered him. He knocked me out of the way. The general put himself at risk for me? He’s not even wearing a vest, and he covered me! The general put himself in the line of fire—for me! The words unacceptable risk filtered into Dan’s brain followed by, Damn, like father, like son. Father? Son? My dad took a bullet meant for me.
Patch applied pressure to a wound in the general’s shoulder as he asked Winds to pull the bandages out of his bag. Winds opened the backpack and pulled out several pressure bandages. He ripped open the sterile packaging and shoved one into Patch’s hand for the wound on the front. Winds tore open another one and applied it to the general’s back. Both men pressed hard to stem the flow of blood from the general’s wound.
Dan finally got in enough air to speak. He gasped out between shooting pains, “Patch ... how bad?”
Hearing the labored breathing, but working to stabilize the general, Patch spared no look at Blondie as he replied, “Clean through, pressure bandages will do their job. Not life threatening. Blondie, he’s gonna be alright. Just need to get him stable and to a hospital for proper treatment.”
As if on cue the general’s eyes fluttered open, and he noticed Patch above him. William realized he had been hit—it hurt like hell. Damn, it’s been a long time since I’ve been shot. Sniper breathing to control the pain was his first reaction. His next thought was of Daniel. “Daniel? Daniel? Is Daniel okay?” William said in a strong yet slightly panicky voice.
Dan reached out and touched his father’s head. “Dad, ... I’m here ... I’m okay, … no harm,” he barely gasped out between breaths with an interesting mix of agony and relief. Dan leaned over a bit so his father could see him. That brought more pain to his chest, but Dan didn’t care. He pushed past it needing his father to know he was there. Blue eyes locked onto blue eyes.
“I was so scared I was going to lose you again, Danny. That I wouldn’t be fast enough. Son, I can’t lose you again. Not today … not ever again,” the general said as he calmed seeing Daniel was indeed not shot.
Then it registered in his mind. Daniel had called him Dad. He smiled. His son finally called him Dad. That one word was a balm which soothed an old wound. Speaking softly, William said, “Danny, you I waited so long. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”
Jon spared a glance at Dan, not liking his breathing—Dan was hurt.
Confused by the general’s comments, he stared at him. His father just called him Danny—twice. “Hear ... what ... Sir?”
“Dad.” William sighed contentedly keeping eye contact with Daniel.
Perplexed a moment longer, it dawned on Dan. He called the general dad without even realizing it. Dan’s face split into a grin despite the pain—dad not general. The general wanted to be called dad. Dan was surprised by the thought. The general’s been waiting a long time to be called Dad?
Dan wheezed out, “Dad.” He gave a lopsided grin to his father as he brushed his hand through his father’s hair like his dad used to do to him when he was small. Dad felt foreign on his tongue, but oh so right.
Lexa’s heart twinged as she listened to Dan and his dad. If only her father cared like Dan’s did. She pushed her feeling away—now wasn’t the time.
Blaze turned to look at Blondie and the general—amazed at the simple exchange, but his mind rapidly returned to business. “Sir, we can’t wait for the MPs. We need to secure the major, so he doesn’t have a chance to run. Plan to leave Alpha Team, Patch, and Winds with you and Blondie while I and the remainder of my unit secure the major if you agree.”
“Agreed,” the general replied, his eyes not leaving Daniel’s face. His thoughts were elsewhere as he looked at that grin. I know that smile. Damn, like father, like son. I missed that grin. He called me Dad again. It’s a beginning for us. Finally, I have a chance to right my wrongs.
Blaze raced off, calling through the headset to have his men join him inside to secure the major. The circle instantly closed ranks filling the space Blaze had occupied—nothing was getting through.
Nick looked down at Patch. “EMS ETA five minutes.” Then he turned to Dan seeing the agony etched across his face and the struggle he still had getting a breath in and out. “That was a pretty hard hit. How are you doing, Dan?”
Dan peered up at Boss and rasped out, “Good.”
With his newly acquired knowledge of Dan’s use of fine, okay, good, and great, Nick’s expression softened. He listened to the exchange between father and son. In the midst of this terrible situation, it is nice to see them take a small step towards reconciliation. They both needed the connection.
Ray and Loki each glanced back a Dan with concern. By the sound of his breaths, Dan needed EMS too. They refocused on providing cover because Patch would take care of Dan.
Blondie’s continued labored, wheezy, breaths, worried Patch. A rib might’ve broken and punctured Blondie’s lung. He couldn’t remove his hands from the general to check Blondie out. “Injury report, Blondie.” Patch taught Blondie to respond succinctly with details he needed to assess his condition.
It was hard to disguise the pain in his voice, so he didn’t. Slowly, Dan rasped the details Patch needed. “Intact ... difficult ... broken ... nine.”
Patch relaxed slightly. Not great, but workable at the moment. EMS would be here shortly. Intact meant lungs not punctured. Difficult denoted it was hard for Blondie to breathe—he needed oxygen soon. Broken was easy—Blondie thought at least one rib was broken. Patch thought, more likely several. Nine concerned Patch. Blondie couldn’t manage a level of nine for long—he needed strong relief soon.
His eyes wide with concern, Patch gave Blondie a curt nod. They both knew he couldn’t do anything more at the moment. Patch went into medic mode and calmly directed Blondie. “Use sniper breathing for now. Slow it down. Focus on something other than the pain. I’ll fix you up soon, little brother. Find something to focus on and breathe.”
Dan focused his eyes on his dad. Dad, not General. His dad had always cared about him. He might just get to have a relationship with his father like the one he always envied his cousins had with their dads. As he slowed his breathing and kept his eyes glued to his father’s eyes, Dan heard Sara’s lilting laughter again.
William blinked. Sara? That sounded like Sara’s laughter. He smiled at Daniel. “I think Sara’s happy today. I hear her laughing.”
Dan’s eyes opened wide. “You … hear … her … too?”
William’s eyes got as wide as Daniel’s. His voice was a mere whisper, “Yes.”
Both listened to the music of Sara’s joyful laughter. Whether it was real or imagined—neither cared. The frayed and nearly severed thread of connection between father and son twisted in a new ethereal golden thread—binding both to each other with hope.
Inside Church – 4:10 p.m.
Pandemonium erupted inside the church when four shots were heard. People screamed, dropped to hide under and behind pews, or ran in multiple directions not knowing which way to go. The TRF sergeants and teams went into immediate action, their calm demeanor settled everyone down.
Sergeant Colton Harmon assumed control and directed Charlie Team to secure the inside and quiet the crowd. He sent several officers to safeguard the front of the church and to coordinate with the regular officers still outside. He saw Sergeant Glen Turpin heading to the back with Frank and the rest of Delta Team, so that was covered.
Echo Team Sergeant Winter immediately directed his Tactical Lead Carl, and other members of his team, Trevor, Brett, and Sean, to secure Major Plouffe and not allow him to leave. After the briefing last night, as vague as it was, Crispin was convinced the major was at the center of this chaos. So he wouldn’t allow him to escape.
Trevor did a pat down search for weapons and found none. Since they had no cuffs and were unarmed, the TRF officers contained the major with their physical presence alone. Trevor recalled this Major during his time as an MP in Kandahar. He never liked the guy and couldn’t believe Aaron was actually related to him. Trevor’s glare was steady—the major wasn’t going anywhere.
People were shocked and confused to see four TRF officers accost and surround a member of the grieving family. Their demeanor toward the man was ice-cold and deadly. Many watched silently when one TRF officer ran up to the one who took control. He whispered something to him, and it was evident to anyone watching he relaxed, but anger flared.
Colton strode to the major. “You got the wrong man. You hit the general. You’re going away for a long time,” he bit out harshly. He didn’t speak overly loud, but his voice carried throughout the hushed area.
The major’s brother David was watching this all transpire wondering what was going on. His brother was a piece of rubbish. David didn’t even want Nigel here. Now his son’s memorial was tainted by some madness.
David walked up to his brother, glared at him, and spat out, “What in tarnation did you do now, you twisted, perverse cretin? How dare you ruin Aaron’s funeral with your despicable deeds. What’s going on?”
At that moment, a livid and armed Special Forces captain and four Special Forces soldiers in battle fatigues carrying assault rifles entered from opposite directions and made a beeline to the major. Everyone quieted as the captain addressed the major.
Blaze’s eyes burned with fury. He teetered on edge, and his hand itching to pull his sidearm and put a bullet in the major’s head. Blaze barely controlled his rage, but it saturated his voice. “Major Plouffe, you’re under arrest.”
Angus stepped forward and cuffed the major’s hands behind his back. He procured handcuffs from an officer out front. Then he stepped back and resumed his hold on his rifle, prepared to take action if needed.
Major Plouffe calmly stated, “What is this all about? I’ve done nothing. Release me this instant, Captain Blain.”
Blaze glared at the major. He wanted to say so many things, but too much was classified. Blaze chose his words carefully as he said with wrath embedded in every syllable of every word, “You missed Blondie, again. After everything you did to him, he still lives. You hit General Broderick instead, but he’ll survive. You’re a coward getting someone else to do your dirty work. Your hitman is dead. So you can’t kill Blondie, he’s beyond your reach now.”
David Plouffe stared at the two men recognizing an eerie, calmness in his brother. There was barely contained rage in the captain who held his fists clenched at his side so tightly that all blood had left them. What had his brother done?
He knew the name Broderick, but who was Blondie? His brother had an unjustified hatred of General Broderick, and it extended to the general’s son when Aaron told Nigel that Dan Broderick joined TRF. Wait, they both had blond hair. Could Dan be Blondie?
What did the captain mean by missed again? David knew his brother was four cents short of a nickel. He was also cruel and vindictive sometimes. But trying to kill someone … multiple times? That was deranged.
His lips twisted strangely, and in a clear almost giddy voice, Plouffe said, “I have no idea what you are talking about, Captain.”
A shiver ran down Mary Tillman’s spine at her brother’s tone—it reminded her of when he killed the cat. She moved as far away from him as she could.
Blaze roared, “You know damned well what I’m talking about! Six years you tried to kill Blondie. You’re a disgrace to this uniform. We have evidence. You’re not getting out of this. Broderick’s are better men than you!”
Plouffe snorted. “No Broderick is better than me. I should’ve been general. Bet Badass never saw the bullet that got him. He’s so blind to what’s right in front of him. Glad Murphy is dead, he was too close. Badass will appreciate the skill it takes the other way. Yes, it will be more fitting my toy soldier falls down for good this way. Don’t ya think?” Plouffe laughed maniacally.
Blaze believed the man was psychotic. His gut was ragging, and Blaze stared closely at the major as he reviewed what Plouffe said ... too close … appreciate the skill … the other way … more fitting … toy soldier falls down for good. He couldn’t mean? Blaze’s eyes widened with understanding.
“You’re intelligent, Blain but perhaps a bit too slow.” Plouffe laughed. Malevolence and glee flare in Plouffe’s eyes as Blaze stared at him.
“Shit! God, no!” Blaze yelled as he took off at a dead run to the back.
Courtyard Behind Church – 4:19 p.m.
The medics arrived and approached a group surrounding the patient. “Please move,” one medic said as he and his partner pushed their way between the officers to reach to the patient.
Bram helped Dan to his feet so the medics could treat the general.
Everyone watched as the paramedics took over for Patch and Winds.
Patch peered at Blondie as he rose. “Just a moment and I’ll stop your pain, brother.”
Stopping the pain would be good, Dan thought as he took a ragged breath.
Blaze burst through the door and saw Blondie standing. He frantically yelled at the top of his lungs, “Cover Blondie! Sniper!”
Dan’s body lurched, and he crumpled to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
You Can’t Die on Me Now
14
July 19
Courtyard Behind Church – 4:20 p.m.
A chorus of horror filled shouts echoed through the small area in the split-second Dan took to hit the ground. Dan appeared to be the sole target—no more shots rang out. Eerily surreal, almost as if they practiced this exact scenario and everyone understood their role, they all moved into action.
Patch, Bram, and Loki rushed to cover Dan.
With Patch’s direction, they carefully lifted Dan. They speedily moved him into the church away from the potential of more harm from the active shooter.
Nick communicated with Tia and informed her of the situation. He requested Bravo Team and an additional EMS unit be dispatched immediately.
Winds, Ray, and the paramedics moved the general inside. They followed the group carrying Dan. In shock and dazed, William only stared at his son. Fate plunged the knife deep and twisted it cruelly in his heart.
Frank and the other TRF officers provided cover for those moving Dan and the general and then headed into the building. They joined with their teams to ensure the safety of the people inside. Everyone wanted to gear up to get the dirtbag who shot Dan.
Jon, Blaze, and Lexa stayed in the courtyard to scan for the sniper position and quickly determined a probable location based on angle and trajectory. They all agreed it could have only come from the tall building nearly a half-mile away. Jon provided the site to Tia so she could send patrol units to lock down the building. All three turned, raced inside, continued through the church, and outside to the TRF SUV to gear up and head to the building.
Inside Church – 4:25 p.m.
The men laid Dan and the general down a short way into the main room because they needed more room than the narrow hallway provided. Shocked by what they witnessed, two injured men on the floor covered in blood and several more with bloody hands and blood splattered clothing, most of those in the church remained mute. Parents pulled their children away and shielded them from the grotesque sight.
Patch frantically ripped Blondie’s blood-soaked shirt open. Was it his or his father’s blood? Did the vest stop the bullet? Please, please let it be in the vest, Patch begged silently.
“Goddammit! It’s armor piercing!” Patch screamed—losing his medic objectivity as blood spilled from Blondie’s chest. “This can’t be happening. Blondie’s not in the field anymore … he should be safe here,” Patch howled.
