Page 2 of Riggs
"Received."
Shit. God decided to open the flood gates on the rainstorm. It's falling so hard I can hardly see three yards in front of me, yet I manage to make my way back to the camp, through the hole in the fence. With no signs of the other men, I maneuver around the building they are housed in. Pulling my pack off my back, I dig out the remaining bomb. Unlike the building they had the women in, this one is raised off the dirt ground, leaving about a two-foot clearance; perfect for me to scuttle beneath. About midway, I place the explosive between two floorboard beams and just as fast get my dirty wet ass out. When I slide around the side of the building, I hear the door slam shut, and notice the beam of a flashlight shining bright on the ground. Ducking back, I watch the guy, with a rifle slung over his shoulder, walk across the yard with his light scanning the fence line, most likely looking for his men who haven't reported back to him.
Knowing I need to get across without being seen, I wait for him to make his way a little further out before making a run for it. Halfway between me and the fence, shots ring out, and bullets whiz past my head and ricochet off the ground at my feet. Off in the distance headlights can be seen through the trees, which means their other men are early. Prepared for this scenario, I pull my pack off, throw my body to the ground behind the building we rescued the women from and pull the wireless remote from my bag, flipping the switch cover up and press the button. The bomb explodes lighting the night sky with a cloud of fire. Knowing this will cause the other men to run from the other building, I flick the second switch cover open and blow the motherfucker, sending structural shrapnel in all directions.
Picking myself up, I start running, toss my pack over the fence, and crawl back through the hole in the fence, then tear off through the trees. I don't bother looking back, I know they will find the girls missing, so I need to put as much distance between myself and them as possible. The tree line comes into view just as gun power rings out behind me. Bullets tear at the trees splintering the bark.
I push myself harder.
The moment my foot hits the first bridge plank a searing pain bursts through my left thigh. I know I've been hit, but I keep going. Wick begins to return fire. My leg burns and the pain radiates upward with every step I take. Another round of rapid-fire echoes around me. I can hear the bullets as they hit the water and bounce off the ground as I clear the bridge.
I hear it before I feel it.
The explosion.
Then the heat on my back.
The force propels my body forward, slamming me to the ground, knocking the air from my lungs. I cover my head, protecting it from falling debris. Sucking in a breath of air, I push myself up. I take a second once I've gotten to a kneeling position and clear my senses. An arm wraps around my waist, hoisting my heavy limbs to my feet. Wick helps me to the other side of the clearing.
Lowering me to the ground, he immediately tends to the bullet wound on my leg. Wick rips open the tear in my pant leg left by the bullet, exposing the weeping hole in my thigh. "Blood loss is minimal. Looks to be a clean shot." He takes his pack from his back and retrieves the first aid kit. He packs both entrance and exit wounds with gauze then wraps a firm tourniquet around my thigh. It hurts like a motherfucker, but the pain reminds me I'm alive, and death did not want me today.
"You are one lucky motherfucker," Wick plops down on the ground beside me. We watch the remains of the bridge burn.
"Thanks for having my six, man." We sit in silence for a short time.
It's not long before the roar of the transport helicopter can be heard off in the distance. Once the pilot lands, we usher the women onboard. As we are climbing in behind them, the youngest girl throws her arms around my neck. She doesn't speak. She doesn't have to. Taking her seat next to the others, Wick counts heads, making sure they are all accounted for before strapping ourselves in. I place the headphones over my ears so I can communicate with the pilot.
Without looking back, Tequila lifts us off the ground. "Job well done, sir." She tells me.
"Received." Leaning my head back, I close my eyes, trying to relieve the building pressure behind my tired eyes. "Take us home."
