by thedoctor
"You damn near got me killed."
"But you're not dead, are you?"
"That's beside the point. You led the attack in early. I thought your orders had been made clear?"
"I made a judgement call..."
"One that fucked everything up! If you'd have waited just a few more minutes, everything would have gone according to plan. They'd be taken care of, and this would be over. Instead, they've scattered all over this place. Now, we have to split the men up to find them, and that's a dangerous proposition."
"Aren't you being a little dramatic? They can't be THAT dangerous, especially split up like they are."
"Oh, yes, they can be," Rogers said as he turned and looked into Ellis' eyes. "I know just how hard these bastards are to kill firsthand."
Far away, gunshots echoed through the large room. Dirk Bell was still separated from the rest of his group. He crept his way through the unfamiliar dark. To be truthful, this was all a bit unnerving for him. He was used to danger, but he was also used to working with other people. Even as a sniper, he had his right-hand man to call out the distance and wind direction. It wasn't something that he couldn't do for himself. It's just that having another person there was helpful, in more ways than one.
Now he was alone. No one to help him. No one to watch his back. It was just him. Him and the lifetime of training that he had received. Maybe that's what scared him. The fact that his skills would be put to the test to the fullest. No more safety net. No one to work off of. No one to share in the responsibility. It was do or die. Worse for Dirk Bell was that it was do or fail his father.
"I guess this is it," he said as he checked the chambers of his handguns. "Time to make Poppa proud."
"The garage is clean," the guard said over his radio. "They can start moving the tankers in. I've got it covered."
As he hooked the radio back onto his belt, a knife came from out of a dark corner and into his throat. The gloved hand holding it was strong and firm. Lieutenant Dukes removed his combat knife from his victim and pulled the body out of sight.
He'd had a hard escape from the ambush. Dirk and Rogers were both missing. Jackson had been riddled with bullets but not killed. For a trust fund baby, he was a tough son of a bitch. He now lay hidden in the rafters of a storage room. Lieutenant Dukes could only assume that he was the only one left to complete the mission. But it had changed slightly. McKnight not only had to be shut down, he had to die.
"Lovely night for a party, isn't it?"
Dukes turned to face the voice. His gun swung around but never had a chance to fire. Ellis let go a volley from his machine gun that dropped the soldier to the floor. A cold laugh accented his dialogue. "You'd almost done it, hadn't you? You had almost closed down the shop. But we had an ace in the hole."
Ellis pushed his foot down on Dukes' stomach. Blood spilled out of the numerous bullet holes. "ERRRRRAAAAAHHHHH!" the fallen man yelled.
"What was that?" Ellis continued to mock him. "You want to know what our ace in the hole was? It was a mole, silly. One of your own men, at that. Soldier Rogers was most helpful in giving us advanced warnings about your attacks. Though I have to admit, lately you've been moving rather quickly. We barely had time to clear this place out. The vats are still full of the bacteria. We didn't have time to move it. But, no matter. We'll be shipping it out in a matter of hours. And you will be dead. Not very poetic, I admit. But it still makes me smile."
Ellis dropped the machine gun and pointed his revolver toward Lieutenant Dukes' forehead. He was taunting his prey, the slow clicking of a hammer being pulled back, the chambers rotating into place. Dukes refused to shut his eyes. He put up with the pain of his wounds and the pain of knowing death was coming for him. The Grim Reaper wouldn't see a coward when he arrived, and neither would Ellis.
A loud bang deafened his ears. Blood and brain tissue splattered everywhere. The strange thing was, it wasn't Dukes'. Ellis' lifeless body lay in a pool of its own blood while pieces of the head were scattered across the room.
"I thought that was you," he said while looking over at Dirk in the corner, "but I wasn't sure if it was just the blood loss making me see things. Did you hear all of that?"
"Most of it. The important stuff."
"Good. You know what you've got to do. It's time one of the yard dogs was put down. He got to learn that you don't bite the hand that feeds you." The man coughed up blood and pain. When he had mustered the strength to ignore it, he added, "Don't forget Jackson when you leave. He's in the store room, up in the ceiling where no one can find him."
"And you?"
"I don't think I'll be here when you get back."
"Marines never leave a man behind."
"Damn it, Bell, I thought we went over this with Meyers. You're not a Marine anymore. You're one of the Big Dogs. You're told before you go in that you might not come out. Dead or alive. Different rules, Bell. Different rules." He grabbed Dirk's arm with all the strength he had left. The touch was light, almost non-existent, to the gunslinger. "And get that asshole McKnight. Whatever it takes, however long it takes, get that bastard."
Dirk nodded and walked away.