Chapter Eighteen
Awakened by the smell of coffee, Katrina sits straight up in bed a little too quickly. Holding her head in her hands she moans out in misery, “I feel like I’ve been hit in the head with a sledge hammer.”
“Put out your hands. Here’s a couple of Tylenol, a multi vitamin, and bottled water. Take them. They’ll make you feel better. There’s a mug of hot coffee for you on the nightstand too. Hope you like cream and sugar.”
“Thanks, but I don’t know if anything will help this morning. My head feels like an entire construction crew‘s inside hammering away.”
“I promise this will help. Now why don’t you grab a shower? It’ll help you feel half way human again.”
“Good idea, help me up?”
Taking Kats arms, Tony pulls her up and out of bed. She intentionally stumbles forward into his arms, taking the opportunity to initiate a long, wet kiss as he leans down to steady her. Noticing the large bulge pressing against the seam of his pants, she reaches out, palming his rock-hard cock in her hand while whispering an invitation through the kiss. “Care to join me?”
Leading her toward the bathroom, he groans, “Please don’t tempt me. You may get more than you bargain for, little girl.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for.”
“Get in there,” he tosses her a clean towel, “and I’ll meet you downstairs for breakfast.”
Twenty minutes later, Kat’s leaning in the doorway of the kitchen, watching Tony at the stove, competently preparing breakfast.
“Feeling better?”
Fingering her towel-dried hair Kat takes a step forward.
“You were so right about the shower; it was exactly what I needed. Need some help?” “No, I have it handled.”
“Okay then. What’s for breakfast?”
“Anything you want.”
“Anything?” She drawls, out giving him a long, naughty look.
Before he can answer, Bre walks in, “Did I miss something?”
“Nope, we’re just discussing what’s on the menu for breakfast.”
“Doesn’t sound or look like you’re talking about food,” she says with a sly grin.
Changing the subject, Kat announces, “I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo and decided today’s the day. Anyone else game?”
“Eeew, I’ve always wanted one, but I have no idea what I want yet, so I’ll go with you and while you’re getting yours, I’ll look around and see if I get any ideas.”
“That sounds great, but before we go, I have a favor to ask.”
“Anything, what is it?”
“Well, I want to put your awesome artistic talent to work. If I tell you what I want, will you draw it for me? I want a totally unique tat that no one else will have. I know pieces of what I want, but I want you to put it together for me.” Smiling she says, “It’ll be a Bre Moretti original, so what do ya say?”
“I’d love to. Did you notice Tony’s dragon tat? It’s not finished, a tattoo that big and detailed takes several sittings to complete, but when it’s done, it will start with the head and flames up high on his right shoulder blade, wings and body stretching across his back, ending with the tail wrapping around his left arm.”
“Yeah, I saw it. It’s awesome. Who’s doing it?”
“Well, I designed and sketched it, and Alex at Savage Ink is in the process of inking it.”
“Can we call him and see if he’s available today to do mine?” Laughing she teases, “Tony, will you come and hold my hand through it?”
“Hell yes! I can’t wait to see what you get.”
“Cool, as soon as Bre’s done with the artwork…let’s go.”
After flying almost 16 hours, the modified Boeing C135-C transport made its only approach over an airfield split in two by a long runway. A new day is dawning as the pilot promptly lands at the large, foreign U.S. Military Base that primarily houses helicopters. Standing slowly and stretching out his now stiff muscles, Gage grabs his pack and throws it over his shoulder. As he disembarks, he notices a Private waiting on the tarmac.
They salute each other and the Private states, “Please follow me, Sir. You’ll have an opportunity to clean up, grab some grub and rest before the mission commander sends for you.” Nodding, but not speaking a word, Gage follows.
Several hours later, Gage joins a group of men in the command center. Gazing around the room, he sees an array of stars, stripes, bars, and medals, as every branch of the military is represented. Of all the high-ranking officials in the room, none knew the true scope of the part he’d play in the upcoming mission.
Dressed in Desert Digital Camouflage, Gage heads to the air field shortly before 2400 hours AFT on May 1st, and boards one of two MH-60 Black Hawk helicopters just before they lift off. Inside the aircraft are twenty-three Navy SEALs, a Pakistani-American translator, and Gage. On this moonless evening, the four Night Stalker pilots and two crewmen, equipped with night vision glasses, fly without lights over mountains and borders, dipping into valleys and expertly maneuvering the extensively modified choppers to avoid detection by Pakistan’s military. The ninety-minute helicopter flight ends over a three story house located inside a one acre compound. The high value target they are after is supposed to be there.
As they make their silent approach over the compound, the first chopper, Helo-one, is caught in its own rotor wash as it descends. Too close to the ground for the pilot to recover, the pilot scraps the plan for his passengers to fast-rope down and heads toward an area to the back of the compound where animal pens are located. Scraping the security wall with its rear rotor, the SEALs brace themselves for impact as the pilot jams the nose of Helo-one into the dirt to keep the Black Hawk from rolling onto its side.
Watching from above in Helo-two, and unsure of the conditions creating the problem with Helo-one, the pilots in Helo-two decide to put their Black Hawk down in a grassy field across the street from the compound.
Radio silence is broken as the team from Helo-one calmly announces they are proceeding with the mission. The team files out of the side of the helicopter. The three lead SEALs in the group break off to clear the guesthouse. They are greeted by gunfire from one of their known targets. They take him out with a bullet to the chest; meanwhile, the remaining nine from Helo-one split off into groups of three to clear the courtyard.
At the same time, Gage and the remainder of the SEAL team disembark from Helo-two. Leaving a four man SEAL team and the Pakistani-American translator, who is dressed like a Pakistani police officer, to close off the perimeter of the house, Gage and the remaining six SEALs make their way to the compound across the street, blast through a metal gate with C4, and move in unison inside.
Gage breaks off from the team from Helo-two, who is left to patrol the inside perimeter of the compound, and joins up with the team from Helo-one, just as they are entering the ground floor of the house. Clearing the room, they blast another locked gate at the foot of the stairs leading to the second floor of the residence. Gage and three of the SEALs head into the stairwell, where they take gunfire. Firing back, at least two of the rounds hit the man that is later identified as one of the adult sons of their main target.
Ascending the stairs to the second floor alone, Gage steps over the body and rounds the corner with his weapon drawn, entering the room. Motioning for the SEALs in the stairwell to follow, Gage swings back around, senses movement across the room, and fires. The bullet finds its mark above the left eye of a man with a gun who was using a woman as a shield. The man flies backward and is dead before ever hitting the ground. The SEAL team enters the room just as the woman picks herself up off the ground and rushes them. Gage lowers his weapon and with lightning fast reflexes, grabs her, lifts her off her feet, swings her around so her back is to him, while using his hands to wrap her arms into a strait jacket hold. Handing her off to one of the members of the SEAL team, Gage leaves them to clear the room. While they follow orders and stay behind, he enters the stairwell and heads to the third floor. This is where his main target is supposed to be.
As Gage takes the turn in the stairwell between the second and third floor, he stops at the landing, making sure no one is peering out at him from above or below and quickly lays his gun down, strips off his clothes, and changes into panther form. Normally, he works alone and would not take such a huge risk in the middle of a job, but this mission is different. His target has to be taken out. There’s no room for mistakes. No “accident” or “unexplained disappearance” will do. This time, it will be known not only to the nation, but across the world, that this person is dead and that the United States is responsible.
Not wanting to leave himself defenseless for too long, he rushes through the change, making it excruciatingly more painful. He feels as though he is being torn apart as the bone, muscle and sinew melt and reform at rapid speed. His facial features are changed, teeth become sharp and elongated for tearing at their prey, his eyes now bright green and catlike, a tail forms while black fur spreads all over his body. Hands and feet reform into paws with long sharp claws protruding from them. Becoming one with the darkness, the panther stealthily makes his way through the stairwell to the third floor, where he will stalk and kill his prey.
Gage enters the room inhaling a deep breath, sniffing at the air, and immediately can smell the fear wafting through the room at the sight of him. Confusion and disbelief are etched on their faces — he is obviously not what the inhabitants of the room are expecting. They expect a unit of military men with automatic weapons to come through the door, not one hundred and seventy five pounds of pure muscle and fury.
The three men begin to slowly back up as a low growl escapes from the advancing panther. As the man on the right turns to head into an adjoining room, Gage runs and jumps at another man standing directly in front of him. The man raises the Glock in his right hand to take aim at the beast before him, but the panther pounces on his chest, sending the weapon sliding across the bare wooden floor. The man reaches into his boot, pulling out a sharp hunting knife. Swinging at Gage, he catches him in the rib cage on his right side with a slicing motion. It stings like hell, but Gage can tell it’s only a flesh wound. Rage and anger surge inside him as he extends his claws, raking them deeply across the arm that holds the knife. The man shrieks in pain, dropping the knife to the ground while the panther finishes him off with a quick swipe of his paw across his neck, tearing through his carotid artery, leaving him to bleed out as he goes after the second man still in the room. The man turns to run, never a good idea with a panther on your heels, and trips, falling onto his stomach an arm’s length from the Glock lying on the floor. Struggling to get to the gun, the Middle Eastern man stretches out his arm as far as he possibly can, but he’s a fingertip short from reaching it. Gage runs at the man, jumping on his back with such force that his spine snaps with a sickly sound. Paralyzed, he lays face down on his stomach. Not wanting to leave the murdering bastard out of his sight while still alive, Gage sinks his teeth into the tender flesh of his shoulder, dragging him like a piece of meat into the room where his real target lies in wait.
At the movement in the room, the target takes aim at the darkness, missing the panther and hitting a piece of metal pipe, causing the bullet to ricochet and hit the paralyzed man on the floor, killing him with a head shot.
As the man is pulling the trigger, Gage circles back around behind him. The target turns and the panther pounces onto his chest with claws extended, inserting them into his flesh as he falls to the ground with the panther on top of him. Gage’s orders are simply this, “Take him out quickly and painfully.”
This is no problem for the soldier who can change from man to beast. In beast form he enjoys his job a little too much, clawing and mauling, tearing and shredding the flesh from his prey’s bones. The man’s blood-curdling screams fill his ears, which only feeds the uncontrollable rage inside him. When the man’s body is mostly stripped of its flesh, the panther goes in for the kill, sinking its sharp teeth into his victim’s neck, allowing the warmth of the metallic-smelling red liquid to flow over his teeth and tongue. With a powerful clamping motion of his jaws and turn of his head, the panther rips out his victim’s throat. Just like that, the most evil of men lay before him, life extinguished, and the cold, dark unseeing eyes of a corpse stuck open in terror for eternity as his last breath is ripped from him.
Gage has no remorse for what he’s done. If he believes in heaven and hell or some higher power, he could swear that he sees a dark smoky cloud escape from the corpse and slither like a snake down through the floor boards. The blackest of souls, heading to the depths of hell, to spend an eternity being tortured and filled with misery. One can only hope, the same kind of torture and misery he caused so many others during his time here on earth. IF he believed in such things, he would call it justice…IF he believed…but he doesn’t.