Page 73 of Destiny Reclaimed
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“Come on Jack! We needto move!”
He heard Gabriela’s order through the loud whoosh of the rotors and thepop...pop...popof the gunfire.
His pulse soared. He was really here, back in the war. He’d hoped and prayed it could happen but had carried doubt it would—could. Thrill cracked through him. This was his chance to set the record straight.
With his palms, he pushed himself into a squatted position, staying low to get his bearings before making himself an easy and larger target.
A glance toward the Huey, he saw it quickly descending in the sky. The gunners fired toward the Viet Cong in the tall elephant grass. He darted his gaze slightly to the north, the spot where he remembered Arthur to be, but he didn’t see him. Had his cousin changed things up in this scenario to throw them off? It would be the smart thing to do.
The swooshing air of the rotors kicked soil particles into his eyes, blurring his vision. He lifted his arm and patted his watery eyes with his sleeve, then refocused to find an injured soldier dragging himself toward the chopper. Instinctively, Jack sprang to his feet to help the guy.
“Wait!” his Protector yelled.
A tiny hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him off balance enough to yank him back down.
“Gary needs to do that. Remember?”
Right. They were here to put things back in place, but it was against his nature to watch the injured soldier without aiding him. Jack’s feeling of helplessness was short-lived as he caught glimpse of Gary running toward the distressed soldier. He hooked the injured man’s arm over his shoulder, hauling the troop to his feet, but the guy was too weak to help steady himself. His legs looked as wobbly as cooked spaghetti noodles.
“Davis!” Gary yelled as his gaze focused on the evacuation chopper.
A soldier who’d just loaded another injured troop spun and ran toward Gary. The two hefted the frail man into their hands, carried him, and loaded him into the chopper as it simultaneously began to lift into the air. Step one was complete. The correct soldier had been shot in the hip and loaded onto the Huey.
Now, where was Arthur?
He and his Protector circled around in a crouched position.
“I don’t see him,” Jack said.
“He’s here.” His Protector assured.
He didn’t need her to convince him his evil cousin was present as the dark, eerie sensation saturated every cell of his being confirmed it for him.
The longer he went without seeing Arthur, the tighter the anxiety coiled in his stomach. There was too much at stake, and he wouldn’t allow the man to beat him again.
A second chopper closed in on the ground, drawing Jack’s attention. Granules of dirt kicked up from the ground, pelting his eyes. With as much as he wanted to close his lids, he couldn’t, knowing it was too risky—dangerous. Tears blurred his vision, but he toughed through it.
The chopper spun a half-circle and landed, giving him a different angle through the tall elephant grass leading to the tree line on the far side of the hot zone. The air from the whoosh of the rotors flattened the grass. Through the earthy, hazy air, two tiny red hues blazed from the tree line. Heat penetrated from the fiery beams of the glow and bore into him.
Arthur.
He crouched down, hoping the flattening elephant grass would be enough to shield him from his cousin’s aim, but he knew the truth, it wouldn’t be, not for long anyhow. Sure, he had probably already been within Arthur’s sights a time or two, so he wasn’t sure why he was still alive. Maybe the other soldiers running back and forth loading wounded onto the chopper had been in the way, providing cover for the moment.
Jack lifted his weapon and propped his elbow on his knee to steady his aim for the shot he may need to fire in direction of the glowing red hues. His finger itched to pull the trigger. The glow turned to two solid red dots, and the eerie sensation lacing every cell of his being darkened. Those had to be Arthur’s devilish eyes. But until he knew for sure, saw the man with his own, he couldn’t pull the trigger. “Always know your target.”His father’s words repeated in his head.
“It’s him,” Gabriela assured as if she knew his dilemma.
Still, what to do. He couldn’t let the man kill him, nor could he kill his cousin. Both those scenarios would change history and the future. He needed to find a way to get the three of them out of this alive and back to the future.
Dammit, if he could only see the man clearly enough to fire off a round to cause a slight injury to stop the threat, rather than kill him, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t risk it. But surely, the second his cousin had the opportunity he’d fire off a round, not caring about the past, present, or future. Only caring that he and his family got what they wanted in the moment—Gwennie and the Cornelis decorated military history.
A vision of Gwennie’s bruised eye and the thought of what his evil cousin may do to his son in the future caused Jack to press his finger firmly to the trigger. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Should he, shouldn’t he?
A shot rang out, shocking his senses, deafening him. The red beams from the tree line disappeared in an instant. He blinked hard, lowered his weapon, and examined his hand still gripping the stalk. His finger had moved off the trigger. A small part of him was surprised he wasn’t the one who’d fired.
With a glance to his right, he zoned in on Gabriela. Her weapon still pointed in the direction of Arthur. His heart lurched. Had she killed him? How would this impact the future?
