by Alex Howell
It was as if he had asked the trigger question, because Warrior’s eyes flared up, but also showed a tremendous amount of pain. Mason had seen such a look before—it came when he encountered civilians on his missions who had lost loved ones due to the local conflict. Had Warrior also lost someone?
“My brother got too close to the DMZ between the two Koreas. North Korea took him. They killed him.”
“I’m sorry to—”
“They didn’t just do that,” Warrior said. Let him speak. He’s held this in. It’ll give Clara a chance to get closer.
Or a chance for me to figure out how the hell to get out of here.
“They beheaded him. My brother! And they stuck it on a pole near the border where everyone could see it as a warning to everyone. Then they burned the body. The… the…”
Warrior was becoming emotional before Mason, almost cracking to the point that he dropped the gun. He was still too far away for Mason to try and completely disarm him, but if Mason could just get him a little closer… or if he could get him a little more distracted… maybe if he could get him to turn away in grief…
But those hopes vanished as Warrior’s grief got replaced with unbridled rage and venom in his eyes.
“Now, here I stand, in a position to make them all suffer,” he said. He’s mad. There will be no reaching him to drop the gun. Only reaching him to distract him. “I can wipe them all clean before the end of the week. My brother shall be avenged. I will be rich. And then I can move on.”
“Move on?” Mason asked.
“The clock is ticking on your leader, SEAL,” Warrior sneered. “He has but one day to figure it out before I kill his family. I can assure you that losing your loved ones is the worst thing you could ever imagine.”
I am well aware of that, Warrior.
“Exactly,” Mason said, playing on that. “Do you really think a billion dollars and the eradication of an entire country will allow you to move on past that?”
Warrior bit his lip. Mason saw an opening to at least hold his attention in a way that didn’t involve violence and ran with it.
“You have no family left. I know this because a man with family would not do what you have done. You will be alone. You will be rich, sure, but you will be alone. And on top of that, even if you get safety, you will have people trying to kill you the rest of your life. I would guess that you would only have a couple of years left to live. Is that really what you want to have happen?”
Warrior kept the gun by his side, moving forward. Mason bit his lip. At this point, he’d rolled his dice. It was now up to the fates to see if he got a favorable roll or a mortal one.
“You’re right,” Warrior said.
He fell to his knees in sorrow. Mason thought of leaping forward, but the distance was just barely too much. He might get lucky—the window was certainly more open than it had been before—but there was just too much risk still. He estimated it would take a truly terrible shot from Warrior for him to disarm and kill him without injury, and that was a gamble he couldn’t yet take.
“Damn it all!” Warrior shouted. “They took my brother! My parents! Everyone I loved! Your country… your country is the one that can get my revenge!”
He pounded the floor, and for a split second, Mason saw his chance.
But then Warrior looked up, howled to the ceiling, and stood up.
“And you won’t even listen to me!” he growled, suddenly putting the gun to Mason’s head. His hands were shaking beyond anything Mason had noticed before. “If you won’t listen to me, then you’ll die with me!”
Mason had about a split second to decide what to do.
Warrior’s finger tugged toward the trigger.
24
It all happened so fast that Mason was barely cognizant of what he had done until it finished.
He lifted his leg and kicked the gun out of Warrior’s hand. But he had done it just a split second too late, and a bullet shot out of the gun.
If Mason had sent his kick just a tenth of a second earlier, the bullet would have struck him in the heart, killing him. But while Mason could not say he had timed his kick perfectly, he had done it well enough for the wound to not be fatal, and the bullet pierced through his left shoulder.
Mason cried out in pain, but the pain had to be ignored as Warrior launched himself on top of Mason. Had to be and actually were, however, wound up being two different things. Though Mason had an enormous size advantage, the combination of the element of surprise from Warrior and the pain in his shoulder meant that Warrior was able to land a few decently strong punches on Mason’s face as he remained mounted.
For a few seconds, Mason felt like he could not fight back. The searing pain in his shoulder was something he had not felt in ages, and it was so intense that he’d forgotten how to block out the pain. Warrior’s punches weren’t helping matters, either; though not particularly strong, the fact that they were landing right on Mason’s jaw was not helping matters.
It was almost by accident that Mason was finally able to escape.
He bucked his hips up, sending Warrior flying over him and into the wall. Mason had only done it as a way to get his punches to stop, but Warrior was so light and Mason so much bigger that the unexpected force knocked Warrior far over Mason. Mason saw the opportunity instantly and hurried over, landing a few strong kicks to Warrior.
“You know what you have to do!” Warrior shouted. “You damn Americans are too cowardly to strike at North Korea! For all that they’ve done to you? And you stand on the sidelines? Cowards!”
Mason would have felt sorry for Warrior and his situation… if not for the fact that he had taken such extreme measures that he would have killed members of President Morgan’s family. He’d already gone through a situation in which he had nearly lost his only child; he was not about to let anyone else experience that.
Warrior continued to berate and mock Mason, but he’d had enough. Warrior wasn’t going to give up any information, and as long as he got taken out, they could take their time finding the kids.
Mason grabbed the chair as Warrior screamed at the top of his lungs, almost like a lunatic, and then slammed it into the back of Warrior’s head. The blow instantly knocked him out, and the maniacal terrorist went dead silent.
“About time you shut up,” Mason said. “Jesus. We ought to send you to North Korea for what you’ve done to us.”
Although Mason had no handcuffs, he stepped back and put a bullet into Warrior’s left foot. He also stripped him of all of his weapons and all of his clothing except his underwear, making it such that he would never escape the facility while Mason went to find his daughter. And if he did, well, it wouldn’t take much before someone in Topeka had some questions about a near-naked, deranged Korean shouting about how he needed to turn North Korea into a field of ashes.
Fortunately, he didn’t need to go far, because just as he exited the door, he heard Clara yelling for him as she came down the stairs.
“Clara!” he shouted.
His daughter opened the door, revealing just a smidgen of light. The two embraced tightly, but Clara quickly pulled back when she noticed that Mason’s grunts came as she squeezed.
“Oh my God, Dad, are you ok?”
“I’ve dealt with worse,” Mason said with a wave of his hand, which was true… but this one was up there. “You? Did you get attacked?”
“No, not at all,” Clara said, bringing instant relief to Mason. “I found Warrior’s office. It was filled with coffee and all this paperwork so I locked myself in there and snapped photos to send to Onyx.”
“You send them already?”
“Yup!”
That’s my girl. She may yet make a fine soldier.
I mean, she shouldn’t, but we can have that discussion later. At least now I know what she’s capable of in the best way possible.
“I actually called the team as well. Some of them are on their way. The rest are remaining in D.C. But we should have this in the
bag, Dad.”
“Another crisis avoided,” Mason said dryly. “We should find the kids, though. It’s going to be a real bad look if we have to interrogate Warrior for their location.”
“Your shoulder—”
“It’s fine, Clara,” Mason said. “I’ll live. Let’s split up, ok? I’ll go left, you go right. If you hear Warrior awake, you shout for me. Understood?”
Mostly, Mason just didn’t want Clara to see that he had dropped his gun and been taken hostage by Warrior for a spell. That was a bit of an embarrassing mistake he didn’t want his daughter teasing him about for the rest of his life.
“You got it, Dad.”
The two split up, hurrying along the corridor. About ten feet in, Mason heard Clara yell “wow, you really put a number on him!” He had to do his best not to laugh with pride, instead saying “it’ll be worth it when we find those kids.”
He hurried to the spot where he had left his gun, scooped it up, and continued down the hallway, going door-by-door. While the need for stealth was obviously not as great as it had been, Mason still led with his gun, wanting to take care over the fact that an accomplice or a bomb would have been an awful way to end this mission after everything that Mason had gone through.
But then, just at the end of that hall, just before Clara turned her corner and saw him at the end, Mason heard it.
Sobbing.
He put his gun to the side, not wanting to intimidate the children upon getting in, and pushed the door open.
Inside, sure enough, were the three children. They were shivering, they did not look fed, and they looked terrified.
But they were alive.
“You’re safe now,” Mason said. “I’m a Navy SEAL. I’ve come to rescue you. Can you follow me?”
The three children nodded, none of them speaking.
“Come on. Clara! I’ve got them!”
Clara ran down the hallway—unconcerned with any other threats, it seemed—and picked up the youngest one. Mason carried the other two, and they left Warrior downstairs, knowing full well that he wasn’t going anywhere.
By the time they reached outside, Mason saw the best possible sight of all.
A helicopter belonging to President Morgan, his wife, and Raina, Luke, and Marshal.
25
August 19th, 2028
10:22 a.m. CST
Topeka, KS
The children all broke into hysterical sobs as they finally saw their family. Clara began sobbing with joy at the sight. Even Mason, who put an arm around his daughter and brought her in close, had to fight the tears forming in his eyes. He remembered all too well how he felt just those few months ago and how lucky he was to see Clara again.
So, too, was President Morgan and his family lucky to see the kids. Though they technically had a day and a half to save the kids, given Warrior’s mental state by the time Mason got to him, he knew full well it could have just as easily shrunk to a minute and a half at any moment. There was the clock, and then there was the real “clock.” Mason was glad that they never had to seriously test either one; he didn’t want to envision a scenario in which he had a standoff with Warrior with one of the kids at gunpoint.
Such a scenario, had it played out in real life, would have scarred him for life. Even if he had successfully rescued the kids, he would have to live with the knowledge that the kids would never feel at ease, never feel comfortable, would always have that PTSD from having a gun pointed at their head. As it was, Mason didn’t want to think about what Warrior had done to them in the time that he was alone with them, but at least they could live, they could heal, and they could move forward.
After Mason had had enough sobbing and allowing himself to indulge in his emotions, he turned to see part of team Onyx standing at a respectful distance. Raina and Kyle stood, hands folded in front of them. Mason gave a short nod, to which Raina returned the favor. He noticed Kyle eyeing Clara, which just drew an eye roll, but, at this point, he couldn’t even muster any anger. They’d just accomplished their mission, and though it had resulted in some significant stress and fears along the way, what mission didn’t?
Eventually, Raina came over.
“Chris and Marshal went into the sanctuary to find Warrior,” she said. “I take it you dealt with him?”
“Oh, I think that’s fair to say,” Mason said with a smirk. “He might be a little cold and a little embarrassed at his lack of clothing, but he’s alive. We’ll get him to talk. And if he doesn’t?”
Raina didn’t say anything, instead patting Mason on the shoulder. It was a gesture that, strangely enough, sent shivers down his spine.
“How did it go, anyways?” she asked.
Mason shrugged.
“Do you want the truth, or the version I’m going to give Luke later?”
Raina laughed, looked at Kyle, and whispered in Mason’s ear, “I’ll keep it between us, that’s a promise.”
Mason looked over at Clara, still looking at the children reunited with their family, and at Kyle, watching the three of them at a distance. He had the space he needed—and if he was going to build relationships with his teammates, well, what better way to do it than by admitting to some foibles that ultimately resolved themselves?
“I got some dust in my eye right before I saw Warrior,” Mason said. “He got me at gun point. It was a freak accident, but it let him get the upper hand. Led me to a room, we had some coffee, you know, the normal.”
Mason could hardly believe he was joking so much. Maybe there really was something to Raina that caused him to be a little more open than normal. He certainly did not act this way around most other women on the team.
“But for real, he actually had a gun to my head. I thought he was going to pull the trigger. I reacted and dodged the worst of it, but he got me on the shoulder. Fortunately, you know, that’s just a flesh wound. And from there… took a chair to the head, laid him out, and that was that.”
“You went for the chair?” Raina said with a surprised expression. “That seems a bit excessive, don’t you think?”
“Eh, he deserved something extreme for what he did.”
As if to make the point, at that moment, Mason turned and saw Chris and Marshal escorting the scrawny terrorist out of the bird sanctuary, cuffed and without weapons. He was awake but not particularly alert, shivering even under the Kansas late summer sky. Mason could not say that he was particularly sympathetic to him.
“Where’s the rest of the crew?” Mason asked.
“Luke’s back in D.C. to make sure everything is fine on that front,” she said. “Duke and Case were working on something with the Joras. We still don’t know who kidnapped the kids.”
Mason nodded to Warrior.
“Doubt it,” Raina said. “He’s just one man. Someone well-trained, better trained than him, gave him the kids. And, besides, we know there was more than one.”
“True,” Mason said.
But, for right now, the worst had been averted. The “who done it” question was one that needed to be addressed, for sure, but it was not nearly as pressing as everything that had just transpired in the previous day and a half.
Well, almost.
Just as Mason turned back, he saw Kyle approaching Clara, trying to engage her in conversation. Mason would have felt for the quiet, awkward young kid if not for the fact that it was his daughter he was flirting with.
“How old is Kyle?” Mason asked.
“Him? He’s just 20.”
“Lovely,” Mason said, even though he actually felt relieved by the answer—he didn’t want the image of some 26-year-old hitting on his 18-year-old daughter, a girl who was still a couple of weeks from her first day as a college student. “I’m not going to—”
“Mason,” Raina said, putting a hand on her arm. “Don’t worry. He’s young and she’s young, but they’re smart. I don’t think anything’s going to happen, anyways. You said she’s going to Stanford, right?”
“It’s a small reassurance,�
� Mason said, trying not to smile as Raina laughed.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “You’ve had plenty enough to worry about the past few days.”
How true that was, Mason thought. Compared to the prospect of Clara dying in a gunfight, getting caught in an explosion, or falling into another abduction, her getting hit on by someone Mason knew was on his side was, in some ways… well, he wouldn’t use the word relief, but a nice change for sure.
And, in any case, after what everyone had been through, they all deserved a break of some kind. Clara, it seemed, just wanted to take hers by having casual conversation with a boy close to her age, while Kyle wanted to take his by talking to a girl he thought was beautiful.
One question still remained, though.
And Mason had to hope that at their debriefing meeting, Case and Duke might have some answers to help them solve the final question of who had helped Warrior.
26
August 21st, 2028
8:00 a.m. EST
Washington, D.C.
Mason sat in a conference room with the entire team except for Case, who advised that he would need to come in a few minutes later. With Clara at home—for once, she had actually listened to his request to stay back home—Mason could feel stress-free and relaxed as he prepared for the debriefing from Luke.
“Onyx, let me congratulate all of you on a job well done,” Luke began. “The bad news is that we still don’t know who Warrior’s partner was and who kidnapped the children. Warrior is not talking, although rest assured we have more than enough evidence to get rid of him forever. The good news is President Morgan has his family, the news of this event never leaked, and we will not stop pursuing who helped Warrior until we find out the truth. And now, let me give out some individual props.”
Luke went though the list of everyone in the room. As he did, it still befuddled Mason that Case had not yet shown up—what was the deal with him being late? He knew that he’d had to do some investigating into the Joras, but, by this point, what did it matter?
