shook him gently. They had to move eventually and the sooner he could
get his high value cargo awake and alert, the better their chances of
survival. Jack had never lost a critical package during one of his
covert missions and he planned to maintain his exemplary record of on time and
safe delivery.
Extending the
antenna on his satellite phone with one hand and slapping the supposedly
important official or spy or whatever the hell he was, with his other hand,
Jack punched in a number committed to memory. The call was connected almost
immediately but there was nothing but a rhythmic thumping sound coming from the
other end of the line.
Reading out a set
of coordinates displayed on the dash mounted GPS and a few cryptic commands
that sounded like nothing more than meaningless chatter to those with the
electronics surveillance capability to eavesdrop, he disconnected the call and
waited. While rounds from the rooftop positioned enemy continued to pepper the
stranded SUV with sporadic gunfire, Jack scanned the surrounding area for escape
routes while he continued to wake his passenger. He needed him mobile and ready
to run for it when the cavalry arrived.
And a few seconds
later, he heard the unmistakable thump-thump-thump as the big Russian
Mi-28 attack helicopter approached. The huge armored beast, brought its
menacing and extremely deadly 30mm underslung autocannons to bear on the ‘soft
targets’ identified by the weapons officer and within seconds, after firing a
few wild rounds at the bullet proof chopper, the rooftop gunman were bugging
out.
Not a single shot
was fired by the imposing Mi-28 which NATO had codenamed ‘Havoc’. Its
reputation preceded it and that’s what Jack counted on. He couldn’t afford to
get into a firefight. The risk of his passenger catching a stray bullet was unacceptable.
As he exited the
cabin of the Suburban into the clearing smoke, he gave thumbs up the pilot of
the hovering gunship who nodded curtly and continued to swing the massive beast
on its axis to provide cover as Jack took off on foot, his compact but deadly
H&K MP5 slung over one shoulder and the dazed passenger leaning on the
other as he struggled to keep pace with his military escort.
“I ’m afraid the scan
results are quite conclusive, Sergeant Raven. The concussion you sustained
during your last mission has left you with what we call a TBI or Traumatic
Brain Injury. It’s quite common among combatants who have been subjected to
close proximity explosions, like IED’s, RPG’s and land mines.”
Jack sat
speechless as the doctor continued to glance at the scans that ended his career
as a soldier. He’d hoped the bouts of depression, mood swings and the headaches
would pass, given time. But, if anything, they got worse. They got so bad that
they forced Jack to break one of his rules. He went to the base doctor. And so
began a battery of tests, probes and scans. The end result, a medical discharge
and unemployment for the first time in his life.
For months, Jack
did nothing but replay that last mission in his head, searching in vain for
ways he could have done better. Trying over and over again to spot the trap
he’d led them into. Every night he’d wake in a cold sweat, as the explosions
tore into the unmarked Suburban, unsure if it was really a nightmare or if this
time they’d succeeded in killing them. He knew he had to do something to break
the cycle and have something else to think about. That’s when he broke another
of his rules. He asked for help.
The transition
assistance package he’d been offered and initially rejected now seemed like a
good idea. Perhaps a career in law enforcement would be a good match for his
skill set and give him the command structure, discipline and the opportunity to
protect others that the military had previously provided for him. And if a bear
shifter needed one thing, it was an opportunity to protect. That’s just what
they did.
Chapter 5
C assie wasn’t sure
get his high value cargo awake and alert, the better their chances of
survival. Jack had never lost a critical package during one of his
covert missions and he planned to maintain his exemplary record of on time and
safe delivery.
Extending the
antenna on his satellite phone with one hand and slapping the supposedly
important official or spy or whatever the hell he was, with his other hand,
Jack punched in a number committed to memory. The call was connected almost
immediately but there was nothing but a rhythmic thumping sound coming from the
other end of the line.
Reading out a set
of coordinates displayed on the dash mounted GPS and a few cryptic commands
that sounded like nothing more than meaningless chatter to those with the
electronics surveillance capability to eavesdrop, he disconnected the call and
waited. While rounds from the rooftop positioned enemy continued to pepper the
stranded SUV with sporadic gunfire, Jack scanned the surrounding area for escape
routes while he continued to wake his passenger. He needed him mobile and ready
to run for it when the cavalry arrived.
And a few seconds
later, he heard the unmistakable thump-thump-thump as the big Russian
Mi-28 attack helicopter approached. The huge armored beast, brought its
menacing and extremely deadly 30mm underslung autocannons to bear on the ‘soft
targets’ identified by the weapons officer and within seconds, after firing a
few wild rounds at the bullet proof chopper, the rooftop gunman were bugging
out.
Not a single shot
was fired by the imposing Mi-28 which NATO had codenamed ‘Havoc’. Its
reputation preceded it and that’s what Jack counted on. He couldn’t afford to
get into a firefight. The risk of his passenger catching a stray bullet was unacceptable.
As he exited the
cabin of the Suburban into the clearing smoke, he gave thumbs up the pilot of
the hovering gunship who nodded curtly and continued to swing the massive beast
on its axis to provide cover as Jack took off on foot, his compact but deadly
H&K MP5 slung over one shoulder and the dazed passenger leaning on the
other as he struggled to keep pace with his military escort.
“I ’m afraid the scan
results are quite conclusive, Sergeant Raven. The concussion you sustained
during your last mission has left you with what we call a TBI or Traumatic
Brain Injury. It’s quite common among combatants who have been subjected to
close proximity explosions, like IED’s, RPG’s and land mines.”
Jack sat
speechless as the doctor continued to glance at the scans that ended his career
as a soldier. He’d hoped the bouts of depression, mood swings and the headaches
would pass, given time. But, if anything, they got worse. They got so bad that
they forced Jack to break one of his rules. He went to the base doctor. And so
began a battery of tests, probes and scans. The end result, a medical discharge
and unemployment for the first time in his life.
For months, Jack
did nothing but replay that last mission in his head, searching in vain for
ways he could have done better. Trying over and over again to spot the trap
he’d led them into. Every night he’d wake in a cold sweat, as the explosions
tore into the unmarked Suburban, unsure if it was really a nightmare or if this
time they’d succeeded in killing them. He knew he had to do something to break
the cycle and have something else to think about. That’s when he broke another
of his rules. He asked for help.
The transition
assistance package he’d been offered and initially rejected now seemed like a
good idea. Perhaps a career in law enforcement would be a good match for his
skill set and give him the command structure, discipline and the opportunity to
protect others that the military had previously provided for him. And if a bear
shifter needed one thing, it was an opportunity to protect. That’s just what
they did.
Chapter 5
C assie wasn’t sure
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