Scorpion's Sting

By:

Jen Gafeller

After the initial discovery, the finds had been coming much more quickly over the last several days, culminating in the burial they were now excavating. Their success had not gone unnoticed by the Iraqi Bureau of Antiquities. Even now the Director of the Bureau was on his way to the site, claiming a need to see first hand what the team had unearthed.

Sarah dreaded the meeting. In her experience bureaucrats like the Director only slowed things down; sometimes to the point where an expedition failed to achieve anything significant due to the interference.

Standing in the shallow pit, Sarah raised her arms over her head and stretched. The hours spent hunched over at the dig site taking its toll on her and she longed for a hot bath and a quiet evening. Shaking her head to dispel her unproductive whims, she climbed out of the pit. She turned back toward Ben, dusting off her hands on her trousers.

“I’m gonna go get cleaned up a bit before the dog and pony show.”

Ben quirked a grin at the look of frustration that passed over Sarah’s face.

“Don’t worry, Doc. I’m sure they won’t stay long and then you can come on back and get dirty with us again.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe. Hopefully,” said Sarah dubiously.

Ben had worked with Doctor Sarah Garrity long enough to know that schmoozing the local politicians was ranked right up there with filing her taxes on her list of all time favorite things to do. Sarah was the only Archaeology Professor he’d ever met who actually preferred working down in the dirt with her students everyday to spending time in a nice university provided, air conditioned laboratory. It was one of the things he admired about her, not that he’d ever let her know that.

“Keep working here,” Sarah instructed, “I’ve got a gut feeling we’re onto something big. I’m just not sure what it is yet.”

“Will do, Doc. Have fun!” Ben called playfully.

“Ha. Ha. Just because I like you doesn’t mean you can push your luck, buster. I only keep you around for your skill at cataloging tiny little pot sherds. Thousands of tiny little pieces guaranteed to have you cross-eyed by the time you’re thirty.”

Ben held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I give. See ya later.”

Sarah threw a short wave over her shoulder as she headed back toward her tent. She had just finished throwing some water on her face and changing her clothes when she heard the crunch of tires on gravel. She gave herself an appraising look in the mirror. The last three months of nearly constant digging in the harsh Iraqi sun had left her skin a deep bronze and her brown hair bleached nearly blond in places. Turning her head from side to side, Sarah was unnerved to see the beginnings of crow’s feet gathering at the corners of her eyes and mouth. Chastising herself for her vanity, Sarah straightened.

“Alright. Let’s do this.”

Pushing through the tent flap, Sarah expected to see men in the robes of the Iraqi elite stepping out of staff cars. Instead what she saw was so outside her experience as a field archaeologist that at first she simply froze. Men dressed in the muted tans and browns of desert camouflage exited two black Chevy Suburbans, each carrying a wicked looking rifle. It had been five years since the end of the Third Iraqi War, begun in early 2003, uniformed men walking the streets carrying rifles was unheard of today. And yet, here they were.

Sarah’s mouth fell open in shock. What the fuck? Stomping out of the tent, she gave no thought to safety, only to getting some answers.

“What the hell is going on here?” Sarah demanded, her anger overriding any remnants of common sense. It wasn’t until the closest of the uniformed men turned on her, raising his rifle level with her chest that Sarah realized she should’ve just kept her big mouth firmly shut. Her eyes widened in alarm and she instinctively raised her arms over her head.

She barely had time to draw in a breath to speak when the sharp report of gunfire erupted off to her left, startling them. The man facing Sarah took his eyes off her for just an instant, but it was all she needed. She threw herself back into the tent landing on her belly and shimmying across the floor toward her bunk as two bullets whizzed through the air over her head. She’d scoffed when the expedition’s backers had insisted she carry a handgun with her on this trip, now she was ridiculously relieved she’d actually listened. Yanking the nine millimeter automatic pistol out from its hiding place in her night stand, Sarah hurriedly flicked off the safety and trained it at the entrance to her tent.

The muzzle of a rifle edged in between the flaps of canvas and Sarah didn’t hesitate, but smoothly pulled the trigger. The crack echoed loudly in the enclosed space, the backlash of the pistol rattling her teeth. She caught a glimpse of booted feet as they left the ground, the bullet striking her attacker and taking him down.

Sarah didn’t dare wait around to see if any of his buddies would show up to investigate and scrambled back toward the rear wall of her tent. Pulling the hunting blade she habitually carried at her waist, Sarah stabbed the knife through the wall and savagely yanked it downward, ripping a long hole in the fabric and cautiously pulling it apart slightly to gaze outside.

The camp was in chaos. Gunfire seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, Iraqi diggers and American students alike running in every direction. Sarah didn’t stop to consider her route, but simply stepped through the torn fabric and took off at a dead run in the direction of the camp vehicles. She prayed the invading force hadn’t yet disabled them; it was a three day hike in any direction before she might reach the nearest settlement. Sarah dodged and weaved among the tents, not slowing until she reached the edges of the camp and spied the four Hummers they had used to reach the site.

She hovered at the corner of the last tent, using it as meager cover while she surveyed the vehicles. They appeared to be relatively intact; the attacking troops had not yet penetrated this far into the camp. Sarah was more than a little bit surprised to find their transportation still in one piece, but decided not to discount some good old fashioned luck. She knew the keys would be in the ignition, there was no reason not to leave them with each vehicle out here all by themselves, and was about to dash off toward the nearest when she suddenly remembered Ben, alone at the far edges of the dig working on the burial.

“Dear God. Ben,” she whispered, looking back over her shoulder toward the center of the camp. She had to go back for him. When she’d met him six hears ago, Ben had been a green undergraduate on his first excavation. But over time he’d proven himself to be a capable worker and a quick study, bright enough to have found his way into the PhD candidate program at the university and someone Sarah had come to rely on over the last few years. He’d been with her through some of the darkest times of her life and she’d be damned if she was going to leave him behind now. Shit. Shit. This just gets better and better all the goddamned time.

“Okay, Sarah, think. Think. How’re you going to get all the way over there to him?”

Sarah looked around frantically for some sort of advantage, when it hit her. The Hummers. Equipped with extra wide tires, they were more than able to cross the loose sands of the dunes that ringed the site. Huffing out a quick breath, she dashed out from behind the tent and skidded to a halt next to the nearest vehicle. She wrenched the door open, throwing herself behind the wheel and turning the engine over. She knew the sound was bound to attract attention, but couldn’t worry about that now. Sarah only had one goal in mind; to reach Ben and get them both the hell out of there.

She violently threw the truck into gear and stomped on the accelerator. The truck lurched forward, tires spinning in place as sand rooster tailed out from behind them.

“Ah shit!” Sarah cursed as she threw the Hummer into four wheel drive and shot forward, struggling to keep control as the vehicle accelerated wildly, fishtailing through the loose sand. But she couldn’t afford to slow down. Speed was of the essence if she was going to get to Ben before the gunmen did.

Whipping the wheel around, Sarah sped away from the camp, hoping the low dunes would cover her escape long enough to allow her to reach the opposite side of the dig. Certainly Ben had heard the gunfire by now, and Sarah could only hope that he was smart enough to keep his head down until she could get there.

The irregular dunes afforded her a glimpse every few seconds of the campsite and what she saw chilled her to the bone. The invaders appeared to be rounding up the site workers, herding them toward the center of the camp. They were none too gentle about their work, using the butt end of their rifles to keep the terrified students and diggers moving. Sarah felt a pang of guilt at turning tail and leaving the majority of them behind, but knew she truly had no other options. What was she going to be able to do? One armed woman against a dozen? No. The only choice she had was to flee and go for help.

It appeared as though she had escaped the attacker’s notice and was nearly to the burial site where she had left Ben when she caught sight of him as he was lifted bodily out of the shallow hole where he had been working. Sarah’s breath caught in her throat as she watched a gunman raise a pistol and bring it down sharply against Ben’s face, blood blossoming across his cheek as he stumbled and sat down hard.

“Goddamned sonofabitch!” Sarah screamed as she threw over the steering wheel and aimed directly for Ben’s assailant, blaring the horn in a desperate attempt to distract him, if even for a moment. The gunman looked up in surprise, shocked by the sight of a Hummer bearing down on him. He had only a moment to raise his weapon before the edge of the front bumper caught him and send him spinning to the ground.

Ben sat panting in the dust, stunned at what had just happened. He had thought for sure he was a dead man. One minute the guy was pistol whipping him, the next the dude was down for the count. What the fuck just happened? His name, shouted in a voice he knew all to well, pulled his attention from his assailant to the Hummer.

“Ben! Get the fuck up and get in here! We’ve got to move!”

It was all the encouragement he needed. Ben dashed to his feet and lurched to the passenger door, ripping it open and climbing inside.

“Doc, what the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know, and right now I don’t give a shit. We’re getting out of here. Now.”

Sarah dropped the accelerator to the floorboards and swerved away from the camp, her only thought was to put as much distance between them and the boys with guns as possible. The rest they’d work out later, once they were safe.

“Wait! We can’t just leave them back there!” Ben shouted, desperation coloring his voice.

“We can and we are! There’s nothing we can do for them! We’ve got to go for help, Ben. That’s what we can do.” The sadness and guilt hung around her neck, weighing her down. Sarah knew it was the right decision, but just because it was right, didn’t make it easy.

“But… they’re going to kill them all!”

“We don’t know that! And even if we did, what the fuck do you think I can do about it? Huh? I have one pistol with about seven rounds left. That’s not enough to take out a dozen or more men armed with automatic rifles.”

“Jesus. Jesus Christ,” Ben moaned, his hand holding his injured cheek. “Why?”

“Don’t know that either. Right now we’ve got one goal. Get out of here in one piece. We’ll deal with the rest later.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure.”

They drove in silence for several minutes, Sarah constantly turning to look behind them, expecting a pursuit at any time. When it didn’t come, she finally allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. If those guys had noticed they were gone, it didn’t look like they were going to follow them.

Ben watched her turn again, casting a worried glance over her shoulder. “See anything back there?”

“No. Looks like we’re okay for the moment,” Sarah said, catching Ben’s eye and giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

Ben nodded, running a shaking hand through his dark hair, leaving a streak of dirt and blood across his face.

“How’s the head?” Sarah asked worriedly.

“Hurts. Got any Tylenol?”

“I think there’s a first aid kit in the back. Let’s get a bit further and we can stop, see what we’ve got with us.”

They drove for several more minutes, unwilling to stop too soon for fear that they would be discovered and captured, or worse. When they did finally slow and eventually stop, Sarah parked them on the far side of a large sand dune that she hoped would hide them from anyone driving past. It wasn’t as though they were actually on a road out here in the middle of the desert, but there weren’t any other options for cover.

Sarah shifted the Hummer into park and slowly lowered her head and hands to rest on the steering wheel. Now that the immediate danger seemed to have passed, the shock of what had happened was beginning to sink in and Sarah was dimly aware that she had begun to shake.

Ben glanced over at her worriedly; lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. Sarah raised her head and turned to look at him; he was shocked to see the beginnings of tears gathering in her eyes. He hadn’t seen her cry in years, hadn’t even been sure she was still able.

“Jesus, Doc, don’t do that. It’s alright.”

Sarah nodded silently, embarrassment coloring her face as she pushed irritatedly at the moisture on her cheeks.

“Yeah. Yeah. But… goddamn Ben. Goddamn it all to hell.”

“I know,” he whispered. “Do you… think they’re still alive?”

Sarah blanched at the question. “I’m not sure. Depends on what those guys wanted. Looked like some sort of Special Forces, maybe privately funded, I’m not sure. Weapons weren’t standard issue I ever heard of either. Most of those guys were carrying MP-5’s. Not your usual fare for terrorists or regular Iraqui Army. Too expensive.”

“How the hell do you know all of that?”

Sarah laughed sardonically. “Former lifetime. Long before I ever thought about archaeology as a career rather than a hobby.”

“And?” Ben prompted, wanting the whole story. Doctor Garrity so rarely shared her personal life with anyone and now that he had her talking, he wanted to know more.

“And, it was years ago. Went to college right after high school, just like everyone expected I would. But didn’t work out. After a while I just got sick of the bullshit in school. Then came 9/11 and we got into the ‘War On Terror’. That got me fired up and I decided to drop out and enlist.”

Ben’s mouth fell open in shock. “Are you serious? You were in the Army?”

“Excuse me, I fail to see why you feel the need to insult me. Marine Corps, thank you very much.”

“Exactly what job did you have that you’d know about weapons and soldiers for hire?”

“My job was EOD. But I dated a guy in intelligence. Guess I picked up a couple of things,” Sarah answered vaguely. There were other reasons why she knew what she did, but reasons that were best kept to herself.

“Holy shit! You blew stuff up?” Ben exclaimed, his eyebrows crawling up into his hairline in an almost comical expression of disbelief.

“Among other things. But yeah, I blew stuff up.”

“Holy shit. The things you never knew. Damn Doc,” Ben said, as the disbelief in his voice slowly replaced with awe.

“Yeah, well. Long time ago now.”

Sarah sighed heavily. She really didn’t want to think about this right now. She only wanted to get them to safety and worry about the rest later. Much later. Sarah consciously straightened, willing herself to get her act together.

“Anyway, let’s see what we’ve got for supplies and get your face cleaned up. Stay put, let me go around and open up the back hatch. I’ll bring back whatever I find. No sense in both of us roasting to death out there,” Sarah said, pushing her door open and sliding out, quickly closing the door behind her. The heat of the mid-day desert sun hit her like a physical force, knocking the breath from her lungs. The grit of blowing sand unerringly finding its way into her nose, mouth, and eyes.

Sarah shaded her face with her hands as she made her way to the rear of the vehicle and pulled open the back door. Poking her head as far inside as she was able, giving herself some protection from the wind and sand, Sarah rummaged through the cargo she found inside. It only took a minute or two before she found was she was looking for and headed back for the protection of the cab.

Ben sat, his head resting against the window, listening to the Doc as she flipped through whatever was in the back of the truck. He could only pray she found some sort of pain killers back there, his cheek felt like it was on fire and he was sure he was going to have one helluva bruise on his face by morning.

Sarah ripped open the driver’s side door and pushed two plastic boxes inside before climbing in herself.

“Well, didn’t find any of those chemical ice packs, but I did find the first aid kit and a supply of potable water. Should be enough to get us to Tikrit,” Sarah said as she pulled out the water, opening a bottle and pouring some of the lukewarm liquid out onto a cloth from the first aid kit.

“Here, give me your face.” Sarah gently dabbed at the drying blood, trying not to hurt Ben further as she cleaned up his battered cheek.

Ben was suddenly all too aware of Doctor Garrity’s nearness, the clean smell of the soap she had used that afternoon filling his nostrils and quickening his pulse. He was sure she had no idea the effect she was having on him and Ben intently studied his hands in an effort to cover his reaction. When Sarah leaned even closer, Ben nearly flinched backwards away from her.

“That’s fine Doc, thanks. Really. I can get it from here,” he said as he pulled the bloodied cloth from her hands and pulled down the passenger sunshade, flipping open the mirror.

“Ah, um… okay,” Sarah said, confused at her assistant’s actions, but willing to chalk it up to the stress of the day. She pulled open the first aid kit, finding the stash of Motrin. She popped open the bottle, shook out two tablets and held them out to Ben along with the water.

“Thanks,” he said softly, dumping the pills into his mouth and swallowing them with a mouthful of water before handing the bottle back.

“Keep it, we need to stay hydrated out here, and it looks like there’s enough for at least four people it the back.”

Ben nodded, tipping up the bottle and finishing the contents then let his head drop back onto the headrest and closed his eyes, willing the pills to work quickly.

“You okay?” Sarah asked, concerned. Ben’s cheek had begun to swell and turn a lively shade of purple.

“Will be once these damned pills start to work,” Ben groused.

Sarah reached over to buckle her seatbelt in place, nervously fiddling with the strap for a moment before turning back to her companion.

“Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna get us out of this. Promise.”

“Yeah, well, should be a piece of cake for someone who used to blow shit up, right?”

Sarah chuckled despite herself. “Yeah, right,” she replied, easing the Hummer into gear and smoothly pressing the accelerator.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun had nearly set by the time the lights from Tikrit could be seen from their vehicle. They had kept to the open sands for much of the trip, not trusting the roadways until they were much closer to the city. Now that their objective was within sight, Sarah knew they would need to risk the paved roads and hope that whoever had attacked the camp site hadn’t discovered them missing, or if they had, didn’t know what direction they had taken.

She knew it was a long shot, the men that had attacked them were well organized and well trained, and it was likely they were tracking them even now. But they had no choice, she and Ben had to get to the city and put out a call for help.

But who to call? That dilemma had been running through her mind for the last couple of hours as they traveled across the desert. Ben’s questions about her Marine Corps background had given her an idea, but it had been so long, she couldn’t be sure that anyone she knew back in those days was even still in the Corps, let alone still stationed in Iraq. But in the end, she didn’t see any alternatives. It wasn’t as though the university or the expedition’s backers were equipped to handle armed men pursuing them through a foreign country and she didn’t really trust the bureaucrats at the U.S. embassy in Baghdad to take her seriously enough to send help quickly.

No, they needed back up, fast. They couldn’t wait for the wheels of government to churn through laborious procedures and red tape. Besides, Sarah had every intention of getting back out to the site, hoping against hope that the attack was only meant to steal their equipment or the ancient artifacts they had recently unearthed. There was still a possibility, however remote, that there were still people alive back at there and Sarah was going back for them, come hell or high water.

They pulled into town just after full dark, the roads lit with the subtle glow of street lights that cast eerie shadows across the buildings and alleyways. They made Ben nervous, not that he’d mention it out loud. Now that he knew what she’d done before she’d become a Doctor of Archaeology, he was determined to prove himself to her. He vowed to follow her wherever this was going to lead them. If she could handle it, so could he. Ben knew the attitude was a bit childish, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

Sarah guided the Hummer down the narrow streets. She’d been to Tikrit before, but it had been years ago and the city had changed some in the interim. But the base was still there on the outskirts of town and if her memory served, there was a bar that catered to the Marines not far from there. After several minutes of driving, Sarah finally spotted it, looking much the same as it had the last time she was there, nearly ten years ago.

Pulling the Hummer into a nearby alley, Sarah killed the engine.

Ben leaned down to gaze out Sarah’s window.

“Okay, Doc. I give. What’re we doing here?”

“We’re not doing anything here. You’re going to stay put while I go inside the bar across the street.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I know this place. We need some help here Ben, and I’m not sure who I can trust. But these guys I know.”

“And you think we can trust them?” Ben asked skeptically.

“Yeah. I do.”

“How do you know?”

“Just believe me, okay? Give me twenty minutes, if I’m not out by then, come in to find me.”

“Okay, that doesn’t sound much like a place you can trust.”

“Well, never pays to be too careful. It’s been a while since I was here last.”

Ben was far from convinced, but honestly didn’t have a good reason to argue, so instead sat back and folded his arms, a scowl on his face.

“Listen, I can handle myself. Really. I’ll be fine,” Sarah said, confidently, sliding her pistol into the waistband of her jeans and pulling her shirt down to conceal it.

Ben’s eyes widened at the sight of the weapon, but he held his tongue. She used to blow shit up. Surely she could handle one bar.

“Twenty minutes, Doc. Not one tick more, or I’m coming in looking for you.”

“Okay. Try to stay out of sight. Be right back.”

Impulsively, Ben reached out and grabbed Sarah’s arm. Her brow contracted quizzically.

“What?”

“Be careful, Doc.”

Sarah covered Ben’s hand with her own, squeezed it gently. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

Ben nodded, but couldn’t help feeling anxious, despite the Doctor’s confidence. He was well outside his comfort zone here, and didn’t care for the out of control feeling it gave him.

True to her word, Sarah emerged from the bar just over fifteen minutes later, but she wasn’t alone. Ben had angled the rearview mirror and had been watching for any sign that Doctor Garrity was returning when he saw them exit the bar. He was tall, over six feet, and a big boy with a weight lifter’s physique that emphasized his arms and chest. Ben watched Sarah as she turned away from the man, seemingly intent on crossing back to the vehicle, when he reached out and grabbed her by the arm.

Ben had his hand on the door handle, ready to jump out of the truck when Sarah spun around, fire flashing in her eyes as she wrenched her arm free, then stepped up right into the man’s face. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it was clear that the Doc was far from happy with what she was hearing. After several moments of heated conversation, the man she was speaking with huffed out a breath and raised his arms in a gesture of defeat. He reached out and slapped something into Sarah’s hand. Something she then pocketed in her jeans before nodding emphatically and speaking again. She then turned and stalked across the street toward the Hummer.

Ben’s hand was still on the handle when she pulled open the driver’s side door and climbed in, smelling of stale beer and cigarette smoke.

“Who the hell was that?” Ben demanded.

“Someone who can help us, even if he’s not happy about it.”

“Okay, help us do what, exactly? Why are we here?”

“We’re here to get help. But there isn’t anything more we can do tonight. We need to get some sleep.”

“There’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?”

Sarah blew out a frustrated breath. She had hoped she would be able to avoid having this conversation tonight. She should’ve known better than to think that Ben would be so easily put off.

“I’m going back there.”

“Back where? Into that bar? What the hell for?”

“No, not the bar. Back to the site.”

Ben was incredulous. “Are you fucking crazy?”

Sarah chuckled derisively. “Apparently. And you’re not the only one to think so. But I’m going all the same. I was in charge out there. I’m not going to tuck tail and run. I need to help them.”

“You don’t even know if there’s anyone left out there to help!”

“No. I don’t. But I have to find out. I have to. I won’t stand by and do nothing if there’s even a tiny chance someone survived. I can’t, Ben. I can’t.”

“My God, you are crazy,” Ben murmured, shaking his head.

“Probably. I’ll find us someplace to hole up for the night. Jack and I are heading out at first light.”

“That his name? Jack?”

“Jack Simpson. Mercenary and former Marine Special Forces. I knew him, back in the day.”

“And exactly what’m I supposed to do?”

“I’ll find you someplace safe where you can stay until we get this all sorted out.”

“What, you expect me to sit back here while you go back out there with… Jack?” Ben spat, the name poison on his tongue.

“Yes. I do.”

“Well, you can just forget it, Doc. You hear me? You’re not going anywhere without me.”

“Ben, you’re not trained to handle this kind of thing…”

“Oh, and I suppose you’re some sort of super commando now? Must’ve missed that course offering this last semester.” Ben replied, the sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“Ben, please…”

“No! I’m not going to sit here in some hidey hole while you go back there. Forget it!”

“I don’t want to argue with you about this.”

“Good, because I’m not going to argue. I’m going.”

Sarah sighed, pushed a frustrated hand through her hair and stared hard at her companion’s profile. Deciding that she was too tired to continue this conversation, Sarah turned over the engine and pulled through the alley, emerging onto a main thoroughfare. It took several minutes for them to navigate the city streets, but soon found themselves outside the hotel Jack had recommended; out of the way, and run by proprietors who cared more about money than asking questions.

Sarah opened her door and slid out of the seat, fatigue weighing her down. She needed rest and a meal, otherwise she’d be no good to anyone. She didn’t look to see if Ben had followed, only trusted that he would be right behind her. Digging the room key Jack had given her out of her pocket, Sarah let herself in, holding the door for Ben.

“I don’t suppose the hotel fairy gave you that key.”

“Ben, I’m only going to say this once. Let it go. We needed a safe place to stay. This is a safe place.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry Doc. The guy just rubbed me the wrong way.”

“You didn’t even talk to him.”

“I didn’t have to.”

Sarah shook her head, but let it drop and headed for the bathroom. Turning on the faucet, she cupped her hands under the flow and splashed blessedly cool water over her hands and face. What she needed was a good hot shower, but acknowledged that she needed sleep more.

“Bathroom’s all yours. I’m gonna get some sleep,” Sarah said, collapsing onto the bed nearest the door. She was asleep almost the moment her head hit the pillow.

It was still dark when a firm hand shook her awake.

“Garrity. You want my help you’d better get your ass up outta that bed.”

Sarah batted at the hand on her shoulder, mumbling under her breath.

“Marine! Get your ass up!”

The order had Sarah practically bolting from her covers, searching for boots that no longer rested under her bunk.

“Aye, sir!” The automatic response was out of her mouth before she remembered she was no longer a Marine. The barked demand had even spurred Ben out from under his covers. He was pulling on his pants as Sarah sank back down onto her bed.

“Goddamn it Jack.”

“Yeah well, you never were easy to get moving in the morning. Five minutes and we pull out. I’ve got your truck gassed up and ready to go, armament’s already loaded.”

Ben couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This guy had been in the Hummer? “Just exactly who the hell do you think you are?”

“The guy y’all came to for help, that’s who. Move it, college boy, or you get left behind.”

“He’s not coming with us,” Sarah declared, ignoring the look of outrage on Ben’s face.

“Hell I’m not. I told you last night, I’m going with.”

“Hey, no skin off my nose, college boy. You wanna come, I say more the merrier,” Jack replied, sitting down on the bed, swinging his legs up and crossing them at the ankles in a casual posture that rankled Ben almost as much as the ‘college boy’ dig. Ben pulled on his pants while studying their new companion. He was dressed in black cargo pants, thick soled boots and a loose, long sleeved shirt with pockets on the breast and down both arms. He looked every bit like a mercenary, right down to the wicked hunting knife strapped to his waist. A knife that looked suspiciously like the knife the Doc carried, Ben noted, but knew that now was not the time to ask her about it.

Sarah bit her tongue, deciding that having Ben with her would at least give her the peace of mind of knowing where he was. She hoped that perhaps once they arrived at the dig site she’d be able to somehow keep him out of the line of fire. Lacing up her boots, Sarah stood and pinned Jack with a hard stare.

“Let’s get one thing straight here, Jack. These are my people, got it? You’re just along for the fire power. We both know how much you like blowing shit up.”

Jack smiled, a slow sexy draw of his lips that made Sarah shiver. God, she’d forgotten about that smile. “Anything you say, honey. Anything you say.”

“And you,” Sarah said, whirling and pointing a finger at Ben’s chest. “You stay in the Hummer.”

“So, I’m coming with?”

“Seems like it. Just keep that thick head of yours down, okay? You have no idea what a pain in the ass it’ll be for me if you get it shot off.”

“Okay Doc. Message received.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

They spent the next three hours in the Hummer, crossing the desert toward the dig site. Jack drove much the way he lived, hard and fast. More than once, Sarah glanced in the side mirror, expecting to see pieces of their suspension lying in the sand in their wake. Sarah checked and re-checked their ammunition and weapons. This operation was already on the edge, she couldn’t afford to leave something controllable, like weapons preparation, to chance. She hefted the M-14, sighting down the barrel before pulling back the bolt and inspecting the firing mechanism. Satisfied, she flipped the selector to safe and slammed home the magazine. Pulling the handgun from her waistband, Sarah repeated the procedure, then turned and extended the weapon to Ben.

“You ever fire a gun before?”

“My granddad taught me to hunt when I was twelve. I can handle it.”

“Yeah well, this isn’t your granddad’s pellet gun. Selector to auto, then squeeze the trigger. But don’t use it unless you don’t have any other options. Leave the rest to us.”

Ben looked skeptical, “Oh yeah, the trained professionals.”

Sarah turned and threw a quick smile to Jack. “The Few, the Proud,” they uttered in unison.

“Almost there,” Jack declared, swinging wide to approach the camp site from behind the nearby dunes. “Get ready.”

Sarah leaned forward, tightening her grip on the weapon resting in her lap. She could feel the adrenaline beginning to course through her veins. She’d forgotten how much she loved that rush of feeling. As they rounded the dune and cut in toward the site, Sarah first began to notice the state of the camp. Several of the tents lay in ruins, a thin haze of smoke from burning canvas filled the air.

As the Hummer drew to a stop, Sarah’s adrenaline high began to fade. This was no longer a camp, it was a grave. Bodies lay haphazardly scattered all over the ground, blood congealing in grizzly pools that colored the sand a deep red. Sarah threw open her door, no thought given to the possible presence of the gunmen, only in seeking the living.

The stench was nearly overwhelming. The smell of death permeating the camp, causing Ben to gag in reflex. He’d never seen carnage like this before. Sure, on TV once or twice, but never up close and personal. Not like this. Not people he knew and worked with.

Jack climbed out of the Hummer, his weapon at the ready, but he knew there was no need.

“Sonofabitch,” he whispered under his breath. He’d seen death before, but the deaths of civilians always bothered him. Professional soldiers who could fight back were one thing. This was entirely different and to his soldier’s mind, totally wrong. Walking around the Hummer, Jack came to stand beside Sarah as she surveyed the destruction. He didn’t need to look closer, he knew everyone was dead. He laid a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“Sorry Garrity,” was all he said.

Sarah stood, rooted to the spot. These were her kids, her team. She was responsible for them and responsible for their deaths. She’d left them to this. She’d run, with no thought to anything but saving her own skin, and it had cost them their lives. Sarah dropped to one knee, dizzy with guilt and grief. She was cursorily aware of Ben as he came to kneel next to her.

“My fault,” Sarah whispered, so low Ben had to strain to hear.

“What?”

“My fault. They were here because of me. This is my fault.”

“Doc, look at me,” Ben said softly. When Sarah continued to stare resolutely ahead, he reached out and gently turned her to face him. “This is not your fault. It’s not. You want to blame someone, blame the guys who pulled the triggers.”

Sarah turned haunted eyes to meet Ben’s. He didn’t know. Couldn’t understand. It was her fault. And one day, she’d get justice for them. But that wouldn’t be today. Today they would mourn the dead. Tomorrow was the day for vengeance.

Fin....for now...

Feedback