by thedoctor
A shitload of gasoline and a bomb had taken care of the installation. The fire would have enough fuel to burn really hot. That, in turn, would be enough to kill the bacteria in those vats. A four-man team went in, and only two had come out. And one of those had been in critical condition. Outcomes like these were always staring him in the face; but never did he, in his worst nightmares, think that it would ever happen to him.
There had been a Hummer in the garage. It was impossible for a regular vehicle to climb the unpaved wilderness path to this vile factory hidden in the shadow of a mountain. Military-grade automobiles had to be used to get people and supplies in and out.
After retrieving Jackson from the store room, both men had decided that Dirk Bell should get the lieutenant's and Thomas' bodies. To hell with what the lieutenant said. Marines never leave a man behind, not this time.
Jackson had the radio. Despite his injuries, he still insisted on doing his job and called in the code for an emergency evacuation. It's just that kind of determination that might keep him alive, Dirk had thought to himself. A U.S. installation was close, but was it close enough? Dirk sacrificed any comfort that he could give his wounded comrade for speed. If I drive slower, he just drives a little less irritated, was his justification.
Now, Dirk was on an army plane headed back toward the States. Jackson had to stay behind in the infirmary. His wounds were too serious for him to be moved anymore. But Dirk wasn't alone. He had Lieutenant Dukes and Thomas to keep him company, both of them sealed up in wooden crates just a few feet from him for the entire flight.
"So McKnight is nowhere to be found," Pierce said with a sullen look on his face. "Damn it! And he still has a mole in our organization. I can only blame myself. Looks like I highly underestimated him. And now he has our dicks in the grinder."
"I want him." Dirk was standing across the desk from the old man. He was still in his combat attire. He hadn't slept at all since the battle.
"What?"
"I want McKnight. Give me the time and the equipment, and I'll smoke him out of whatever rock he's hiding under. Just give it to me."
"Son, I understand how you're feeling right now, but you just lost your whole team. All of them are dead, except for Jackson. But this report I just got in from Europe says that, while he will live, he'll be confined to a wheelchair from now on. You don't have any backup."
"I don't need backup. Just give me the clearance." Dirk was no longer asking permission. He was the one giving the orders now. Pierce realized it and didn't like it.
"A little stuck on yourself, aren't you? You're not that good."
"I'M THE BEST YOU'VE GOT! I'm the sole survivor of this team. I watched my partners get mowed down by McKnight's own private army. I just destroyed a bacteria that threatened all of mankind. I just killed the man I thought was my best friend because he was a fucking spy. Now tell me I'm not ready for this. Tell me!"
Pierce sat in silence for a moment. Wallace stood in the background. "You're not ready," Pierce said calmly and reluctantly.
"To hell with you!" Dirk yelled as he tipped the desk over. The glass top broke as the metal frame bent. Papers took flight and glided back to the ground like feathers. He turned and began to march out.
"How would your father react if he saw you treating his old friend like this?" Wallace chimed out without Pierce's approval.
"My father obviously knew a different man," Dirk said as the stormed out the door.
"We need to move him," Pierce finally said after a few quiet minutes. "McKnight will come after him once he knows he's the last alive. Hell, he probably already knows. Probably knew before I did. Damn spy!"
"What about Jackson? I thought you said..." Wallace interjected.
"I've taken care of that personally. McKnight's not the only one who can fake a death."
"Oh. Why not do the same for Bell?"
"Because he won't sit still. The second he's out from under my thumb, he'll go after McKnight. I've got to keep him away, somehow."
"There is the Dwarf Project, sir." Wallace began to sort through the scattered papers to find a particular folder.
"A little drastic, wouldn't you say?"
"You said you wanted him far out of harm's way. You can't get much farther than..."
Pierce held up his hand to quiet his assistant as he pondered his decision. Pictures of him back in the earlier days of the organization lined the wall and captured his view. His eyes rested on one in particular. It was of him and Jefferson Bell just days after they had established the training program.
"Do it."
The End