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The cartel was most certainly impacted by the capture of their chief outreach officer Carzita, as was evident by the immense amount of weeping and gnashing of teeth on Cartel networks and channels. Bowman reported in great detail the panic that she heard over Cartel radio when it was first reported that he had gone missing, but the true impact it had wasn’t felt until corporations and celebrities all around the world were subpoenaed by the FBI, CIA, and local law enforcement agencies in various countries. It was delicious to say the least. The Cartel would be feeling that pain for quite a long time, and recovering the trust of those whose information was leaked would take a lifetime. Best of all, the Cartel had no idea where Carzita went, but their chief theory was that he defected to work with Keanu Reeves.
Elizabeth, however, knew her work was far from over because Sueno was still in hiding, and unfortunately for her, Bowman had no idea where he could be. They had to smoke him out somehow. Elizabeth and her squad would have to something really big in order for El Sueno to bring himself out of wherever he was hiding.
“So Nomad,” Bowman began as she stirred a pot full of rice and meat, ready to serve it to the squad. “What type of music do you listen to?”
“Why does that matter?” Elizabeth replied, placing her right hand on her right knee and looking at her with confusion.
Bowman shrugged. “I just thought we could get to know each other a bit more.”
“Fair enough,” Elizabeth smiled sheepishly. “I’m a southern gal born and bred, so I’m a country fan. I love Florida Georgia Line in particular.”
“Bro-Country?” Bowman responded almost with derision. “I never took you for a country fan.”
“I’m full of surprises Bowman,” Elizabeth replied tartly. “Let me ask you the same question.”
Bowman laughed. “You know, this may sound crazy, but I love Corrido music and Narco-Rap. That shit goes hard.”
“I take it you’ve been in Bolivia for far too long,” Nomad grinned, lacing up her boots. “Narco Music? I can now say I’ve met a CIA agent who enjoys the enemy’s music.”
“You could say that,” Bowman nodded, placing a hearty amount of food onto a plate and gently placing it next to Elizabeth. The food was quite excellent, and better than whatever slop the rebels provided, so Elizabeth dug in, much to Bowman’s delight. The rest of the squad was out bathing in a river, so they would be a while.
“So what’s next?” Elizabeth wondered as she ate. “Are we going to sit in this bunker all week? I would really like to go home sometime and see my children again.”
“As would I, minus the children,” Bowman cautioned, grabbing a plate herself and sitting next to Elizabeth, “but we need to be careful. This whole country belongs to the Cartel, and one wrong move will end up with you captured and…well…I don’t want to even begin to imagine.”
“I get that,” Elizabeth countered, “but we need to be decisive if we are to smoke him out.”
“I agree,” Bowman nodded, filling her mouth with food and devouring it in short order. “I’ve been talking with Pac Katari, and he seems pretty hellbent on a certain target. I’d like to clear it with you first before we even attempt it—this will be dangerous.”
“Hit me.”
“Have you noticed that factory in the distance that you can see from here?”
Elizabeth nodded. How could she not have seen that ugly towering hunk of metal in the distance that was constantly spewing smoke into the air? From their little mountain, she could see for miles into the distance, and the view was always perfect save for that massive factory that was seemingly plopped at random in the middle of a giant coca field next to a large river. There were always trucks coming and going from the facility, and it was most definitely tightly secured. Whoever owned it had even begun the process of flattening ground for a rail line and an airstrip.
“I have. Looks pretty random if you ask me,” she shrugged.
“That is the world’s largest cocaine processing plant,” Bowman stated as she stood up from the table and looked out a small window facing the factory. “It was once a coffee packaging plant, but those days are long gone at this point. The Cartel seized the factory and turned it into a virtual paradise for the mass production of product. Billions of dollars worth of cocaine is process there every month. Taking that place out would damage the Cartel beyond belief and would certainly bring El Sueno out to fix the problem.”
“Let’s fuck some shit up then!” Elizabeth exclaimed enthusiastically.
Bowman shook her hands downwards. “Woah there cowgirl. I’m telling you, that place is dangerous.”
“Nothing that I can’t handle.”
“I’m telling you Nomad,” Bowman answered with a sense of urgency. “The rebels have thrown everything that they have at this facility. The Cartel and Unidad have rapid response forces that can be deployed in minutes, that is if the security already on location doesn’t throw the rebels back into the forests during the initial skirmish. Taking the facility is…”
“We don’t need to take the facility,” Elizabeth answered, finishing her plate of food. “We just need to damage it and hold off the reinforcements. Weaver and Holt can assist the rebels in a two-pronged attack on the facility—one prong distracts while the other prong attacks from the opposite side—and Rubio and I will lay an ambush on the road and wipe out the initial reinforcements. That should give Pac Katari enough time to really do a number on the facility and put it out of commission for a good while. Then, we all fade back into the forests and leave El Sueno and his goons a nice pile of wrecked steel and destroyed Coca stocks. That’s what I would do at least.”
Bowman contemplated the idea for a minute, pacing around the building they were in. “You know Nomad, that isn’t a terrible idea. I rather like it. I’ll ask JSOC to send us some toys.”
Later that evening, Pac Katari was brought into the bunker and told of the idea. He reacted enthusiastically, but said that would take days to muster enough soldiers from the provinces in order to take the facility. Elizabeth disagreed, and explained to him that not only did they have that time, but that they would not be taking the facility, and instead damage it as much as they possibly could with whatever weapons they could scrounge up in addition to the ones that were being sent. That night, the United States airdropped in a quantity of mortars, rockets, and other heavy weapons, and the stage was set for an attack the following night on the facility. Pac Katari gathered as many men as he could from the province.
The plan was relatively simple. Holt would lead an attack that would distract the enemy while Weaver would launch an attack on the opposite end of the facility and briefly take the factory. Any reinforcements would be held off by Elizabeth and Rubio on the main road.
“Are we all set?” Elizabeth asked over the radio as she placed her night vision goggles over her eyes. She was positioned on-top a small forested hill that overlooked a junction between two roads, one of which crossed a small river and the other which came from deeper in the province. This juncture was the only way to the facility, and was the perfect place for an ambush. Rebels had set up c4 charges and other explosives that Elizabeth or Rubio could trigger, but even then, she did not have the numbers for a prolonged engagement. They could probably only hold off the first wave or so. In the distance, the factory loomed, its massive steel structures and smokestacks ascending high into the Bolivian sky and spewing large amounts of smoke into the atmosphere.
“I’m good to go here,” Holt affirmed. “My men will demonstrate on your command.”
“We are all go here,” Weaver replied. “Give me the signal and my flank will engage.”
“Katari?” Elizabeth inquired, sliding a bullet into the chamber of her rifle.
“My soldiers are ready American. I hope your plan works.”
“Bowman?”
“I’ll keep you informed of Cartel traffic.”
“Alright everyone,” Elizabeth began as she slid into some bushes to avoid being seen from the road, “remember to strike hard and fast. Don’t move until I tell you to, and don’t get bogged down. Once inside the facility, fuck everything up that can be fucked up. Give em hell boys. Holt, proceed to engage.”
The silent night was soon shattered by the distant cackles and pops of small arms fire, with the occasional rocket or mortar round delivering a loud and echoing explosion that could be heard for miles around. Elizabeth felt almost hopeless from where she was positioned, unable to actually do anything to help the first attack, but she had the utmost faith in Holt and his combat abilities.
“Bowman, has the Cartel sent anyone?” Elizabeth asked after a few minutes of gunfighting.
“Negative Nomad,” Bowman replied. “The Cartel leader at the factory reported in a minor raid.”
“Weaver,” Elizabeth laughed, “show the Cartel that this ain’t no pussy shit. Attack.”
Giant flares fired from the ground and lit up the night sky as a furious assault of rockets and mortars hit the factory from the rear, quickly overwhelming the meager defenses left on that section of the facility. The fighting moved into the facility as the furious rebel assault continued mostly unchecked. The rebels in Weaver’s assault began to attack the structure itself, launching rockets directly at the smokestacks and coca warehouses and detonating explosives wherever they could.
“Nomad!” Bowman exclaimed. “The Cartel forces in the facility are panicking and Unidad is sending reinforcements. ETA two minutes?”
“Fucking Unidad?” Elizabeth groaned. “Shitballs.”
“Senora Nomad,” Katari grumbled, “our rebels cannot hold against Unidad for very long. They tear us apart like grass.”
“We’ll hold them here Katari. Don’t you worry. Rebels, gear up. Don’t fire until I set the charges off.”
In the distance and from across the concrete bridge, Elizabeth saw the convoy racing towards the junction. Unlike the ragtag and mostly rundown Cartel trucks and vehicles, Unidad was an actual professional military force sporting military grade hardware. Large trucks that had to be carrying soldiers were flanked by smaller surplus US military Humvees that they undoubtedly had sold to the Bolivian army when relations with the nation were better. Attached to the top of each Humvee was a large machine gun with a soldier stationed on it, ready to blast away any threats.
I am an angel of death
The convoy raced towards the bridge and rebel soldiers began to mumble in fear. Elizabeth grabbed the detonator from her side and placed her thumb right on the button.
I am a harbringer of justice
The bridge squeaked and buckled as the first vehicles stormed over it.
Today, you will burn in the lake of fire
The first vehicles slowed down slightly to make the sharp turn towards the factory.
May God have mercy on my soul
The detonator was activated.
For a brief second, Elizabeth was blinded by the cacophony of bright explosions and a piercing sensory overload that rocked her entire body. Her life briefly flashed before her eyes, and in that briefest of moments, she saw her family begging her to come home and be with them. She was brought back to reality by the piercing whaling and screams of dying and wounded Unidad soldiers, many of whom were being burnt alive in the wreckage of their vehicles. It was a truly hellish landscape.
“OPEN FIRE!!” Elizabeth yelled as she began to pick off stranglers with fire. The rebels on the hill began to spray ammunition almost indiscriminately on the Unidad soldiers trapped in the junction. The rear of the Unidad convoy was mostly unscathed, but was blocked from advancing further up the road by the chaos in front of them—most of their men dismounted and attempted engage Elizabeth and the rebels, but they were pinned by the wall of Rebel bullets. The few survivors in the middle and front of the convoy attempted to flee across the river, but Elizabeth and Rubio easily sniped them from a distance.
“Nomad!” Bowman shouted. “You really kicked up a shitstorm. Unidad and the Cartel are sending everything. You need to get the fuck out of there.”
“Holt and Weaver!” Elizabeth yelled, trying to be heard over the firefight in front of her. “You need to get the fuck out of there!”
“Rodger that boss,” Hold responded. “Most of this facility has been blown to shit. This won’t be producing much coca anymore.”
The second wave of Unidad and Cartel reinforcements arrived minutes later, but found that the junction had been abandoned and their comrades slaughtered—Elizabeth and the rebels had melted away into the Bolivian jungle, and going after them in the dark would be impossible. The rebels that attacked the factory also fled into the jungle, hiding their arms and blending back into the civilian populations that they came from. The Coca factory was now a smoldering wreck that would take weeks, if not months, to really repair and get back to operational status. Flames shot up into the sky, and it took the Cartel most of the night to bring the blaze back under control.
El Sueno was not happy, but he did not react angrily. He scanned the footage had been sent to him of the party where Carzita was captured, and saw the highlighted figures, one of whom was an extremely tall white woman. They were the ones that captured Carzita, and they were almost certainly the ones who had been responsible for the recent trouble.
“Tell me her name,” El Sueno ordered, leaning back in his uncomfortable wooden chair and taking a sip of water from his glass.
“Her name,” Jacob scratched his chin. “Is Elizabeth Davis, or at least that’s what her name was. She married someone, and I don’t know her new name. She told me that she was not on a mission, but that was obviously a lie.”
“Thank you for the information,” El Sueno replied, never once smiling or breaking his emotionless black face. “I will make sure that your people are sent the medicines and drugs that you requested, as well as the arms that you already paid for. I’ll have them across the border in less than a week, I can assure you of that.”
Jacob rubbed his hands together. “There are American operatives here. If they are here, they know something. They must have nabbed something from their raid on the Caliph.”
“Don’t worry,” El Sueno reassured him. “We will deal with the Yanquis, including your friend Elizabeth here. We will deal with them.”
“Don’t hurt her,” Jacob almost spat. “I want her alive. She’s strong and tough, and can serve you and I well in the wars that will surely come.”
“Alright,” El Sueno agreed. “Let me set a trap for Senora Elizabeth. I will capture her and bring her to you.”
Elizabeth, however, knew her work was far from over because Sueno was still in hiding, and unfortunately for her, Bowman had no idea where he could be. They had to smoke him out somehow. Elizabeth and her squad would have to something really big in order for El Sueno to bring himself out of wherever he was hiding.
“So Nomad,” Bowman began as she stirred a pot full of rice and meat, ready to serve it to the squad. “What type of music do you listen to?”
“Why does that matter?” Elizabeth replied, placing her right hand on her right knee and looking at her with confusion.
Bowman shrugged. “I just thought we could get to know each other a bit more.”
“Fair enough,” Elizabeth smiled sheepishly. “I’m a southern gal born and bred, so I’m a country fan. I love Florida Georgia Line in particular.”
“Bro-Country?” Bowman responded almost with derision. “I never took you for a country fan.”
“I’m full of surprises Bowman,” Elizabeth replied tartly. “Let me ask you the same question.”
Bowman laughed. “You know, this may sound crazy, but I love Corrido music and Narco-Rap. That shit goes hard.”
“I take it you’ve been in Bolivia for far too long,” Nomad grinned, lacing up her boots. “Narco Music? I can now say I’ve met a CIA agent who enjoys the enemy’s music.”
“You could say that,” Bowman nodded, placing a hearty amount of food onto a plate and gently placing it next to Elizabeth. The food was quite excellent, and better than whatever slop the rebels provided, so Elizabeth dug in, much to Bowman’s delight. The rest of the squad was out bathing in a river, so they would be a while.
“So what’s next?” Elizabeth wondered as she ate. “Are we going to sit in this bunker all week? I would really like to go home sometime and see my children again.”
“As would I, minus the children,” Bowman cautioned, grabbing a plate herself and sitting next to Elizabeth, “but we need to be careful. This whole country belongs to the Cartel, and one wrong move will end up with you captured and…well…I don’t want to even begin to imagine.”
“I get that,” Elizabeth countered, “but we need to be decisive if we are to smoke him out.”
“I agree,” Bowman nodded, filling her mouth with food and devouring it in short order. “I’ve been talking with Pac Katari, and he seems pretty hellbent on a certain target. I’d like to clear it with you first before we even attempt it—this will be dangerous.”
“Hit me.”
“Have you noticed that factory in the distance that you can see from here?”
Elizabeth nodded. How could she not have seen that ugly towering hunk of metal in the distance that was constantly spewing smoke into the air? From their little mountain, she could see for miles into the distance, and the view was always perfect save for that massive factory that was seemingly plopped at random in the middle of a giant coca field next to a large river. There were always trucks coming and going from the facility, and it was most definitely tightly secured. Whoever owned it had even begun the process of flattening ground for a rail line and an airstrip.
“I have. Looks pretty random if you ask me,” she shrugged.
“That is the world’s largest cocaine processing plant,” Bowman stated as she stood up from the table and looked out a small window facing the factory. “It was once a coffee packaging plant, but those days are long gone at this point. The Cartel seized the factory and turned it into a virtual paradise for the mass production of product. Billions of dollars worth of cocaine is process there every month. Taking that place out would damage the Cartel beyond belief and would certainly bring El Sueno out to fix the problem.”
“Let’s fuck some shit up then!” Elizabeth exclaimed enthusiastically.
Bowman shook her hands downwards. “Woah there cowgirl. I’m telling you, that place is dangerous.”
“Nothing that I can’t handle.”
“I’m telling you Nomad,” Bowman answered with a sense of urgency. “The rebels have thrown everything that they have at this facility. The Cartel and Unidad have rapid response forces that can be deployed in minutes, that is if the security already on location doesn’t throw the rebels back into the forests during the initial skirmish. Taking the facility is…”
“We don’t need to take the facility,” Elizabeth answered, finishing her plate of food. “We just need to damage it and hold off the reinforcements. Weaver and Holt can assist the rebels in a two-pronged attack on the facility—one prong distracts while the other prong attacks from the opposite side—and Rubio and I will lay an ambush on the road and wipe out the initial reinforcements. That should give Pac Katari enough time to really do a number on the facility and put it out of commission for a good while. Then, we all fade back into the forests and leave El Sueno and his goons a nice pile of wrecked steel and destroyed Coca stocks. That’s what I would do at least.”
Bowman contemplated the idea for a minute, pacing around the building they were in. “You know Nomad, that isn’t a terrible idea. I rather like it. I’ll ask JSOC to send us some toys.”
Later that evening, Pac Katari was brought into the bunker and told of the idea. He reacted enthusiastically, but said that would take days to muster enough soldiers from the provinces in order to take the facility. Elizabeth disagreed, and explained to him that not only did they have that time, but that they would not be taking the facility, and instead damage it as much as they possibly could with whatever weapons they could scrounge up in addition to the ones that were being sent. That night, the United States airdropped in a quantity of mortars, rockets, and other heavy weapons, and the stage was set for an attack the following night on the facility. Pac Katari gathered as many men as he could from the province.
The plan was relatively simple. Holt would lead an attack that would distract the enemy while Weaver would launch an attack on the opposite end of the facility and briefly take the factory. Any reinforcements would be held off by Elizabeth and Rubio on the main road.
“Are we all set?” Elizabeth asked over the radio as she placed her night vision goggles over her eyes. She was positioned on-top a small forested hill that overlooked a junction between two roads, one of which crossed a small river and the other which came from deeper in the province. This juncture was the only way to the facility, and was the perfect place for an ambush. Rebels had set up c4 charges and other explosives that Elizabeth or Rubio could trigger, but even then, she did not have the numbers for a prolonged engagement. They could probably only hold off the first wave or so. In the distance, the factory loomed, its massive steel structures and smokestacks ascending high into the Bolivian sky and spewing large amounts of smoke into the atmosphere.
“I’m good to go here,” Holt affirmed. “My men will demonstrate on your command.”
“We are all go here,” Weaver replied. “Give me the signal and my flank will engage.”
“Katari?” Elizabeth inquired, sliding a bullet into the chamber of her rifle.
“My soldiers are ready American. I hope your plan works.”
“Bowman?”
“I’ll keep you informed of Cartel traffic.”
“Alright everyone,” Elizabeth began as she slid into some bushes to avoid being seen from the road, “remember to strike hard and fast. Don’t move until I tell you to, and don’t get bogged down. Once inside the facility, fuck everything up that can be fucked up. Give em hell boys. Holt, proceed to engage.”
The silent night was soon shattered by the distant cackles and pops of small arms fire, with the occasional rocket or mortar round delivering a loud and echoing explosion that could be heard for miles around. Elizabeth felt almost hopeless from where she was positioned, unable to actually do anything to help the first attack, but she had the utmost faith in Holt and his combat abilities.
“Bowman, has the Cartel sent anyone?” Elizabeth asked after a few minutes of gunfighting.
“Negative Nomad,” Bowman replied. “The Cartel leader at the factory reported in a minor raid.”
“Weaver,” Elizabeth laughed, “show the Cartel that this ain’t no pussy shit. Attack.”
Giant flares fired from the ground and lit up the night sky as a furious assault of rockets and mortars hit the factory from the rear, quickly overwhelming the meager defenses left on that section of the facility. The fighting moved into the facility as the furious rebel assault continued mostly unchecked. The rebels in Weaver’s assault began to attack the structure itself, launching rockets directly at the smokestacks and coca warehouses and detonating explosives wherever they could.
“Nomad!” Bowman exclaimed. “The Cartel forces in the facility are panicking and Unidad is sending reinforcements. ETA two minutes?”
“Fucking Unidad?” Elizabeth groaned. “Shitballs.”
“Senora Nomad,” Katari grumbled, “our rebels cannot hold against Unidad for very long. They tear us apart like grass.”
“We’ll hold them here Katari. Don’t you worry. Rebels, gear up. Don’t fire until I set the charges off.”
In the distance and from across the concrete bridge, Elizabeth saw the convoy racing towards the junction. Unlike the ragtag and mostly rundown Cartel trucks and vehicles, Unidad was an actual professional military force sporting military grade hardware. Large trucks that had to be carrying soldiers were flanked by smaller surplus US military Humvees that they undoubtedly had sold to the Bolivian army when relations with the nation were better. Attached to the top of each Humvee was a large machine gun with a soldier stationed on it, ready to blast away any threats.
I am an angel of death
The convoy raced towards the bridge and rebel soldiers began to mumble in fear. Elizabeth grabbed the detonator from her side and placed her thumb right on the button.
I am a harbringer of justice
The bridge squeaked and buckled as the first vehicles stormed over it.
Today, you will burn in the lake of fire
The first vehicles slowed down slightly to make the sharp turn towards the factory.
May God have mercy on my soul
The detonator was activated.
For a brief second, Elizabeth was blinded by the cacophony of bright explosions and a piercing sensory overload that rocked her entire body. Her life briefly flashed before her eyes, and in that briefest of moments, she saw her family begging her to come home and be with them. She was brought back to reality by the piercing whaling and screams of dying and wounded Unidad soldiers, many of whom were being burnt alive in the wreckage of their vehicles. It was a truly hellish landscape.
“OPEN FIRE!!” Elizabeth yelled as she began to pick off stranglers with fire. The rebels on the hill began to spray ammunition almost indiscriminately on the Unidad soldiers trapped in the junction. The rear of the Unidad convoy was mostly unscathed, but was blocked from advancing further up the road by the chaos in front of them—most of their men dismounted and attempted engage Elizabeth and the rebels, but they were pinned by the wall of Rebel bullets. The few survivors in the middle and front of the convoy attempted to flee across the river, but Elizabeth and Rubio easily sniped them from a distance.
“Nomad!” Bowman shouted. “You really kicked up a shitstorm. Unidad and the Cartel are sending everything. You need to get the fuck out of there.”
“Holt and Weaver!” Elizabeth yelled, trying to be heard over the firefight in front of her. “You need to get the fuck out of there!”
“Rodger that boss,” Hold responded. “Most of this facility has been blown to shit. This won’t be producing much coca anymore.”
The second wave of Unidad and Cartel reinforcements arrived minutes later, but found that the junction had been abandoned and their comrades slaughtered—Elizabeth and the rebels had melted away into the Bolivian jungle, and going after them in the dark would be impossible. The rebels that attacked the factory also fled into the jungle, hiding their arms and blending back into the civilian populations that they came from. The Coca factory was now a smoldering wreck that would take weeks, if not months, to really repair and get back to operational status. Flames shot up into the sky, and it took the Cartel most of the night to bring the blaze back under control.
El Sueno was not happy, but he did not react angrily. He scanned the footage had been sent to him of the party where Carzita was captured, and saw the highlighted figures, one of whom was an extremely tall white woman. They were the ones that captured Carzita, and they were almost certainly the ones who had been responsible for the recent trouble.
“Tell me her name,” El Sueno ordered, leaning back in his uncomfortable wooden chair and taking a sip of water from his glass.
“Her name,” Jacob scratched his chin. “Is Elizabeth Davis, or at least that’s what her name was. She married someone, and I don’t know her new name. She told me that she was not on a mission, but that was obviously a lie.”
“Thank you for the information,” El Sueno replied, never once smiling or breaking his emotionless black face. “I will make sure that your people are sent the medicines and drugs that you requested, as well as the arms that you already paid for. I’ll have them across the border in less than a week, I can assure you of that.”
Jacob rubbed his hands together. “There are American operatives here. If they are here, they know something. They must have nabbed something from their raid on the Caliph.”
“Don’t worry,” El Sueno reassured him. “We will deal with the Yanquis, including your friend Elizabeth here. We will deal with them.”
“Don’t hurt her,” Jacob almost spat. “I want her alive. She’s strong and tough, and can serve you and I well in the wars that will surely come.”
“Alright,” El Sueno agreed. “Let me set a trap for Senora Elizabeth. I will capture her and bring her to you.”
@alex man142
I've gotta say, I'm thoroughly enjoying this, my friend. It sure beats the slaving over the HOI2 editor I've been doing the past week!
I've gotta say, I'm thoroughly enjoying this, my friend. It sure beats the slaving over the HOI2 editor I've been doing the past week!
This is my prayer in the desert
When all that's within me feels dry
This is my prayer and my hunger in me
My God is the God who provides
And this is my prayer in the fire
In weakness or trial or pain
There is a faith proved
Of more worth than gold
So refine me Lord through the flames
I will bring praise
I will bring praise
No weapon formed against me shall remain
I will rejoice
I will declare
God is my victory and He is here
Elizabeth, earbuds in her ears, sat down onto the grass and leaned backwards onto the concrete and stone exterior of the makeshift rebel headquarters. All the bustle and life that was going on right in front of her was totally invisible to her. It was Sunday—she should have been in Church with her family, singing her heart out and glorying her God and King. Instead, she was deep in the Bolivian wilderness, but that didn’t matter. She would worship God no matter where she was. Nothing else really mattered in this brief minutes to herself. She closed her eyes and silently sang the song with the music.
Her brief solitude was interrupted by someone tapping her shoulder. She opened her eyes and saw that it was Rubio.
“Whatcha listening to?” He asked as he sat down next to her.
“Desert Song,” she replied, showing him her phone.
“Great song,” he grinned, “you are such a white suburban Christian mom, you know that?”
“Is that a bad thing?” Elizabeth giggled.
“Not really,” Rubio said, gently punching her on the shoulder. “You know, its kinda crazy that you are a Ghost. You’d think a Ghost would listen to heavy metal and all of that, not Christian pop music.”
“I wonder that all the time,” Elizabeth replied coldly. “I always wonder if I’m actually doing the right thing. Am I following His commands? Am I being a good follower of my King?”
Rubio stared at her with compassion and reassurance. “If God didn’t want you doing what you did, he wouldn’t have made you so good at it.”
Elizabeth frowned. “That’s what scares me. That I’m good at it. I shouldn’t be.”
“You’ve been talking with Keanu Reeves,” Rubio cocked his head and smirked slightly. “Are you thinking about retiring?”
Elizabeth gently bit her bottom lip. “Yes. I can’t work a desk job—not with my body count. At least working with him means that I can help to support my family and use my talents in a way that brings joy, not death. I’m tired of all the death. I’m tired Rubio.”
“Scott Mitchell won’t be pleased with that Elizabeth,” Rubio said, gently stroking her shoulder.
“I don’t really care,” Elizabeth answered, pumping her fist into the air. “He can suck it for all I care. My son hates me, my daughters will hate me soon enough, and my hubby needs me more than ever. I’m failing as a wife and mother. I can’t do this anymore.”
“You kno…..”
He was interrupted by Bowman running out of the bunker near them and towards them. “Holy fucking shit!” She exclaimed, bent over and gasping, completely out of breath. “Holy shit!”
“What’s the matter Bowman?” Elizabeth inquired. “Do more on the treadmill than you could handle?”
“Very funny Nomad!” She scolded, regaining her breath. “No, we found the fucker! We found El Sueno!”
“What?!” Rubio stood up as quickly as he could. “You found him? How?!”
“He moved into the province earlier today!” She explained excitedly. “He’s at a mansion miles from here. We must have really triggered him after the attack on the factory last night!”
“How do we know it’s him?” Elizabeth asked, still sitting on the ground.
“A huge convoy, a heavily guarded mansion, limousines…it has to be him.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “Fair enough I suppose, but how are we supposed to capture him if he is in a heavily guarded mansion?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but I was thinking of asking Pac Katari to distract the Cartel and possibly even force some guards from the facility, which would give you a chance to nab him and hightail it out of there.”
Elizabeth looked at Rubio, and nodded. He did the same. “Alright,” she said, “I think we can do that. I’ll tell my squad to gear up and head over to this mansion. Once the distraction has caused enough chaos, I’ll roll in and capture this asshole.”
“Let’s do it,” Bowman nodded, giving Elizabeth a high-five.
This mission would be incredibly difficult, so Elizabeth’s squad geared up in the most advanced technology that they had available, including heat repellent clothing to mask their body heat, helmets designed to help block even the largest of rounds, the latest in weapons technology, and ammunition, lots and lots of ammunition. If they got caught in a firefight, they would have to fight their way out. Elizabeth hated gearing up like this, especially with the baklava as it made her face all sweaty after a bit, but it had to be done.
After they were all kitted up, the squad left the base and their way to the mansion by foot through the jungles: they could not risk being seen by air or car, especially since the Cartel and Unidad were undoubtedly on high alert. Every single road crossing took time as they had to ensure that nobody was watching. A four mile walk turned into a trek that took most of the day, but they eventually reached a hill overlooking the mansion just as the sun started to go down.
“Damn,” Elizabeth stated as she examined the mansion through a set of binoculars. “That mansion is incredible.”
It was a truly luxurious house. Built on a small hill, the mansion was an ultra-modern and sleek black and white two story structure with glass walls covering most of the exterior. Lush gardens, fountains, pools, and stone pathways dotted the lawns surrounding the structure, and the mansion even had an extensive hedge maze on the property. There was a large parking lot filled with trucks, expensive cars, and a set of limousines, which Elizabeth figured was part of the convoy that helped to bring El Sueno into the province earlier in the day. Whoever built this thing had both style, and money. Getting inside would be incredibly hard, however. Guards were patrolling every entrance, and private security was stationed in every garden and fountain.
“I count thirty or so guards,” Holt muttered. “Shit, El Sueno has a shit ton of security here. How much money does he have?”
“Enough to get a mansion,” Weaver responded in his usual bored and uninterested tone.
Rubio crawled next to Elizabeth. “What’s the play boss?”
“Let’s call in the rebel distraction and see if that peels away guards. If so, then we can slowly snipe them off and move in. If not, then I guess we’ll have to go in hot. I really hope it doesn’t come to that, but we gotta get him alive. We may not have another shot at this.”
“Agreed,” Rubio responded.
“Bowman, feel free to let the rebels start their little distraction.”
“Alright Nomad.”
Elizabeth suddenly felt the distant rumble of explosions, along with the telltale pop and crackles of far-off gunfire. Even from here, she could see fire rising into the sky as the rebels attacked a Cartel outpost with full force. The security force around the mansion grew tense and began to patrol more eagerly, before suddenly darting off into the front of the mansion and into their cars. All but three or so guards drove off towards the outpost.
“This can’t be right…” Elizabeth muttered. “All of that security just leaving?”
“This is our shot Nomad,” Holt insisted. “I have one of the guards in my scope. May I end him?”
“This doesn’t feel right to me…but end them all at once,” Elizabeth ordered. In a few seconds, it was done, and all three of the remaining guards were dead, their bodies quickly hitting the dirt. “On me. In and out as quickly as we can. I don’t care if they have cameras. We have to move.”
Elizabeth quickly made her way down the hill, and practically sprinted across the now empty car lot and towards the front door of the mansion. Rubio and the rest of the squad formed on both sides of the door, and soon as she gave the signal, Holt kicked the door wide open. Two Cartel militia were sitting down in the main living area, and were quickly gunned down by Holt before they even had a chance to grab their weapons.
“Clear,” Holt hissed.
The interior of the mansion was perhaps more opulent than the exterior—it looked right out of a futuristic movie, with clean and sleek furniture and furnishings. She felt almost at fault for bringing her muddy boots onto the white tile floor.
“He’s upstairs,” she whispered. Even from here, they could hear El Sueno’s booming voice coming from the upper floor. They silently made their way up the tile steps. Turning a corner, Elizabeth realized that there were two guards guarding a room, but two shots took care of them. All that was left between her and home was a wooden door. “HANDS IN THE AIR!!!” Elizabeth screamed as she kicked down the door. To her surprise, the room was empty aside from a set of speakers that were plugged into an outlet, which were playing a prerecorded conversation.
“What the fuck?!” Holt groaned. “It’s a recording!”
“This can’t be…” Elizabeth said, her heart sinking.
“It is,” came a voice from over the speakers. “I am El Sueno. It is a pleasure to finally speak with you Elizabeth.”
She grew paler than a ghost, and her blood almost froze in her veins. “How…how do you my name?”
“How I know you does not matter. All that matters is that we can finally speak.”
“Where are you?!” She demanded.
“It would be foolish for me to give my location to people who are trying to seek me out, is it not? No matter. I am not here to scare you or attack, I am many things, but a liar I am not. I simply want to end this bloodshed: it is bad for my business, and it is bad for Bolivia. This country has been trying to get on its feet for decades? Why end the progress?”
“Says the asshole who has turned this country is an illegal drug trafficking gloryhole,” Elizabeth replied angrily. “If you have nothing of value to say, then I’ll get back to hunting you down.”
“Look at this house Mrs. Elizabeth. Consider this a signing bonus.”
“I think my ears must have stopped working. Did I hear that right?” Elizabeth asked, visibly confused. “You wanna hire us?”
“You are four of the most dangerous people alive. Of course I want to hire you. Every day you risk your lives for your country, and your government pays you casi nada. Put these skills to work me, for Santa Blanca, and you will make more money than you can possibly imagine.”
“You know El Sueno,” Elizabeth answered, pacing around the room. “I will have to politely tell you to go fuck yourself. We came here to arrest you. The fact you aren’t here only gives you a bit more time as a free man. You should say your goodbyes, because we are coming for you.”
“Bad move Elizabeth. You see, I knew you were coming here, and my men have this place completely surrounded. I will give you one more chance to accept my offer. If not, then you will die here.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath and looked at her squad. “Fuck you Sueno.”
“Fair enough, your choice. Men, kill her and her squad.”
“Um boss,” Rubio asked, staring at the other members of the squad. “What was that?”
“It was a trap…” Elizabeth responded in an almost whisper. “A fucking trap! Holt and Weaver, guard the stairwell and don’t let anyone up. Rubio, come with me to the balcony. We need to hold them off.” Everyone grunted with affirmation as they moved to their positions and readied themselves for battle. “Bowman!”
“Yes Nomad?”
“This was a set-up and they have this placed totally surrounded.” She said urgently as trucks full of Cartel soldiers began driving towards the parking lot in-front of the mansion. “I need an EVAC as soon as humanly possible.”
“Give me ten minutes.”
“I don’t have ten minutes!” Elizabeth roared as the trucks entered a clear firing range.
She took a deep breath, recited her usual prayer, and calmed her nerves before she began to fire. One shot killed the driver of the first truck, and another killed the driver of the second, sending that truck careening right into a tree. Rubio easily picked off soldiers who attempted to disembark the first two trucks, but others followed and soon overwhelmed their disciplined gunfire. Hordes of Cartel soldiers streamed from the jungle and into the parking lot. Elizabeth and Rubio killed many of them, but their were simply too many of them, and with the amount of fire coming at them, they could barely peak their heads above the balcony wall.
“Shitballs!” Elizabeth muttered as a shot nearly took her head clean off. “Bowman! How much longer?!”
“Seven minutes Nomad!”
The fighting grew desperate. Elizabeth was expending more ammo than she had spent in a long time, and despite her and Rubio’s best efforts, the Cartel soon breached the house in multiple areas. Holt and Weaver were soon locked in a battle of their own, trying to keep the soldiers on the first floor.
“Nomad!” Holt yelled over the radio after another minute or two of fighting. “Last mag!”
Elizabeth sprinted down the hall and handed him two magazines from her vest. “I have two more left myself. Make them count!”
“Yes boss!”
The fighting continued, and the trickle of Cartel soldiers breaking into the home turned into a flood. “Bowman, how much fucking longer?!”
“Two minutes Nomad!”
Elizabeth quickly used her second to last magazine, and inserted the last full one that she had besides the few 9mm pistol mags she had.
The Lord is my shepherd,
I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside quiet waters. He restores my soul;
He guides me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You have anointed my head with oil;
My cup overflows.
Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
In her moment of desperation, the helicopter soon came into view hauling faster than she thought was possible for a helicopter. The Cartel began to fire at it, but two minigun gunners began to light the parking lot up, effortlessly mowing down anyone who tried to fire back at the helicopter. There was nowhere safe to land, so the pilot hovered as close to the balcony as he could safely hover, allowing just enough room for someone to jump on board without it actually being dangerous.
“Everyone get on board!” Elizabeth commanded. Weaver and Holt sprinted down the hallway, but not before they tossed several grenades down the stairwell to cover their retreat. Rubio followed them onto the chopper, and once they were all on, Elizabeth jumped, tumbling to her knees as the helicopter immediately took off away from the heat below them. Shots rang all over the exterior, but the helicopter took flight and the fire slowly died off until it was nothing. They were safe.
“Are you all alright?” Bowman asked. Everyone was exhausted and nobody replied.
Elizabeth unstrapped her helmet and tossed it angrily against the metal wall of the helicopter. She gasped with relief as he yanked her baklava off and leaned back against her seat—she knew that she was lucky to be alive. That was the closest she had ever come to actually dying.
“Nomad?” Bowman asked concerningly.
“Look Bowman!” Elizabeth hissed, grabbing Bowman by her collar and pulling her towards her. “Next time, do your fucking job! I really like not being dead!” She seethed, tossing Bowman back into her seat.
“I didn’t know…” Bowman stammered out, unable to look her associate in the eye.
“That’s your job,” Elizabeth countered, wiping the sweat off of her face. She was absolutely drenched.
“This wasn’t a total loss,” Bowman reasoned. “I’ll have the nerds at the NSA track his signals, we….” she said trailing off, realizing that the entire squad was glaring at her.
“Bowman,” Holt began. “Just shut the fuck up.”
“Yes Holt,” she said ashamedly.
Elizabeth thanked God that she was still alive, but she still wondered how El Sueno knew her name. She took a bit of comfort in the fact that he never used her last name, but he definitely had done a bit of intelligence on her, probably from footage at the party. Whatever the case, it was only a matter of time before El Sueno discovered even more about her and went after her family back home. She would request security for her husband and children as soon as she landed back at the rebel base.
Until then, she was lucky that she was still breathing and without a scratch to boot. El Sueno would pay.
When all that's within me feels dry
This is my prayer and my hunger in me
My God is the God who provides
And this is my prayer in the fire
In weakness or trial or pain
There is a faith proved
Of more worth than gold
So refine me Lord through the flames
I will bring praise
I will bring praise
No weapon formed against me shall remain
I will rejoice
I will declare
God is my victory and He is here
Elizabeth, earbuds in her ears, sat down onto the grass and leaned backwards onto the concrete and stone exterior of the makeshift rebel headquarters. All the bustle and life that was going on right in front of her was totally invisible to her. It was Sunday—she should have been in Church with her family, singing her heart out and glorying her God and King. Instead, she was deep in the Bolivian wilderness, but that didn’t matter. She would worship God no matter where she was. Nothing else really mattered in this brief minutes to herself. She closed her eyes and silently sang the song with the music.
Her brief solitude was interrupted by someone tapping her shoulder. She opened her eyes and saw that it was Rubio.
“Whatcha listening to?” He asked as he sat down next to her.
“Desert Song,” she replied, showing him her phone.
“Great song,” he grinned, “you are such a white suburban Christian mom, you know that?”
“Is that a bad thing?” Elizabeth giggled.
“Not really,” Rubio said, gently punching her on the shoulder. “You know, its kinda crazy that you are a Ghost. You’d think a Ghost would listen to heavy metal and all of that, not Christian pop music.”
“I wonder that all the time,” Elizabeth replied coldly. “I always wonder if I’m actually doing the right thing. Am I following His commands? Am I being a good follower of my King?”
Rubio stared at her with compassion and reassurance. “If God didn’t want you doing what you did, he wouldn’t have made you so good at it.”
Elizabeth frowned. “That’s what scares me. That I’m good at it. I shouldn’t be.”
“You’ve been talking with Keanu Reeves,” Rubio cocked his head and smirked slightly. “Are you thinking about retiring?”
Elizabeth gently bit her bottom lip. “Yes. I can’t work a desk job—not with my body count. At least working with him means that I can help to support my family and use my talents in a way that brings joy, not death. I’m tired of all the death. I’m tired Rubio.”
“Scott Mitchell won’t be pleased with that Elizabeth,” Rubio said, gently stroking her shoulder.
“I don’t really care,” Elizabeth answered, pumping her fist into the air. “He can suck it for all I care. My son hates me, my daughters will hate me soon enough, and my hubby needs me more than ever. I’m failing as a wife and mother. I can’t do this anymore.”
“You kno…..”
He was interrupted by Bowman running out of the bunker near them and towards them. “Holy fucking shit!” She exclaimed, bent over and gasping, completely out of breath. “Holy shit!”
“What’s the matter Bowman?” Elizabeth inquired. “Do more on the treadmill than you could handle?”
“Very funny Nomad!” She scolded, regaining her breath. “No, we found the fucker! We found El Sueno!”
“What?!” Rubio stood up as quickly as he could. “You found him? How?!”
“He moved into the province earlier today!” She explained excitedly. “He’s at a mansion miles from here. We must have really triggered him after the attack on the factory last night!”
“How do we know it’s him?” Elizabeth asked, still sitting on the ground.
“A huge convoy, a heavily guarded mansion, limousines…it has to be him.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “Fair enough I suppose, but how are we supposed to capture him if he is in a heavily guarded mansion?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but I was thinking of asking Pac Katari to distract the Cartel and possibly even force some guards from the facility, which would give you a chance to nab him and hightail it out of there.”
Elizabeth looked at Rubio, and nodded. He did the same. “Alright,” she said, “I think we can do that. I’ll tell my squad to gear up and head over to this mansion. Once the distraction has caused enough chaos, I’ll roll in and capture this asshole.”
“Let’s do it,” Bowman nodded, giving Elizabeth a high-five.
This mission would be incredibly difficult, so Elizabeth’s squad geared up in the most advanced technology that they had available, including heat repellent clothing to mask their body heat, helmets designed to help block even the largest of rounds, the latest in weapons technology, and ammunition, lots and lots of ammunition. If they got caught in a firefight, they would have to fight their way out. Elizabeth hated gearing up like this, especially with the baklava as it made her face all sweaty after a bit, but it had to be done.
After they were all kitted up, the squad left the base and their way to the mansion by foot through the jungles: they could not risk being seen by air or car, especially since the Cartel and Unidad were undoubtedly on high alert. Every single road crossing took time as they had to ensure that nobody was watching. A four mile walk turned into a trek that took most of the day, but they eventually reached a hill overlooking the mansion just as the sun started to go down.
“Damn,” Elizabeth stated as she examined the mansion through a set of binoculars. “That mansion is incredible.”
It was a truly luxurious house. Built on a small hill, the mansion was an ultra-modern and sleek black and white two story structure with glass walls covering most of the exterior. Lush gardens, fountains, pools, and stone pathways dotted the lawns surrounding the structure, and the mansion even had an extensive hedge maze on the property. There was a large parking lot filled with trucks, expensive cars, and a set of limousines, which Elizabeth figured was part of the convoy that helped to bring El Sueno into the province earlier in the day. Whoever built this thing had both style, and money. Getting inside would be incredibly hard, however. Guards were patrolling every entrance, and private security was stationed in every garden and fountain.
“I count thirty or so guards,” Holt muttered. “Shit, El Sueno has a shit ton of security here. How much money does he have?”
“Enough to get a mansion,” Weaver responded in his usual bored and uninterested tone.
Rubio crawled next to Elizabeth. “What’s the play boss?”
“Let’s call in the rebel distraction and see if that peels away guards. If so, then we can slowly snipe them off and move in. If not, then I guess we’ll have to go in hot. I really hope it doesn’t come to that, but we gotta get him alive. We may not have another shot at this.”
“Agreed,” Rubio responded.
“Bowman, feel free to let the rebels start their little distraction.”
“Alright Nomad.”
Elizabeth suddenly felt the distant rumble of explosions, along with the telltale pop and crackles of far-off gunfire. Even from here, she could see fire rising into the sky as the rebels attacked a Cartel outpost with full force. The security force around the mansion grew tense and began to patrol more eagerly, before suddenly darting off into the front of the mansion and into their cars. All but three or so guards drove off towards the outpost.
“This can’t be right…” Elizabeth muttered. “All of that security just leaving?”
“This is our shot Nomad,” Holt insisted. “I have one of the guards in my scope. May I end him?”
“This doesn’t feel right to me…but end them all at once,” Elizabeth ordered. In a few seconds, it was done, and all three of the remaining guards were dead, their bodies quickly hitting the dirt. “On me. In and out as quickly as we can. I don’t care if they have cameras. We have to move.”
Elizabeth quickly made her way down the hill, and practically sprinted across the now empty car lot and towards the front door of the mansion. Rubio and the rest of the squad formed on both sides of the door, and soon as she gave the signal, Holt kicked the door wide open. Two Cartel militia were sitting down in the main living area, and were quickly gunned down by Holt before they even had a chance to grab their weapons.
“Clear,” Holt hissed.
The interior of the mansion was perhaps more opulent than the exterior—it looked right out of a futuristic movie, with clean and sleek furniture and furnishings. She felt almost at fault for bringing her muddy boots onto the white tile floor.
“He’s upstairs,” she whispered. Even from here, they could hear El Sueno’s booming voice coming from the upper floor. They silently made their way up the tile steps. Turning a corner, Elizabeth realized that there were two guards guarding a room, but two shots took care of them. All that was left between her and home was a wooden door. “HANDS IN THE AIR!!!” Elizabeth screamed as she kicked down the door. To her surprise, the room was empty aside from a set of speakers that were plugged into an outlet, which were playing a prerecorded conversation.
“What the fuck?!” Holt groaned. “It’s a recording!”
“This can’t be…” Elizabeth said, her heart sinking.
“It is,” came a voice from over the speakers. “I am El Sueno. It is a pleasure to finally speak with you Elizabeth.”
She grew paler than a ghost, and her blood almost froze in her veins. “How…how do you my name?”
“How I know you does not matter. All that matters is that we can finally speak.”
“Where are you?!” She demanded.
“It would be foolish for me to give my location to people who are trying to seek me out, is it not? No matter. I am not here to scare you or attack, I am many things, but a liar I am not. I simply want to end this bloodshed: it is bad for my business, and it is bad for Bolivia. This country has been trying to get on its feet for decades? Why end the progress?”
“Says the asshole who has turned this country is an illegal drug trafficking gloryhole,” Elizabeth replied angrily. “If you have nothing of value to say, then I’ll get back to hunting you down.”
“Look at this house Mrs. Elizabeth. Consider this a signing bonus.”
“I think my ears must have stopped working. Did I hear that right?” Elizabeth asked, visibly confused. “You wanna hire us?”
“You are four of the most dangerous people alive. Of course I want to hire you. Every day you risk your lives for your country, and your government pays you casi nada. Put these skills to work me, for Santa Blanca, and you will make more money than you can possibly imagine.”
“You know El Sueno,” Elizabeth answered, pacing around the room. “I will have to politely tell you to go fuck yourself. We came here to arrest you. The fact you aren’t here only gives you a bit more time as a free man. You should say your goodbyes, because we are coming for you.”
“Bad move Elizabeth. You see, I knew you were coming here, and my men have this place completely surrounded. I will give you one more chance to accept my offer. If not, then you will die here.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath and looked at her squad. “Fuck you Sueno.”
“Fair enough, your choice. Men, kill her and her squad.”
“Um boss,” Rubio asked, staring at the other members of the squad. “What was that?”
“It was a trap…” Elizabeth responded in an almost whisper. “A fucking trap! Holt and Weaver, guard the stairwell and don’t let anyone up. Rubio, come with me to the balcony. We need to hold them off.” Everyone grunted with affirmation as they moved to their positions and readied themselves for battle. “Bowman!”
“Yes Nomad?”
“This was a set-up and they have this placed totally surrounded.” She said urgently as trucks full of Cartel soldiers began driving towards the parking lot in-front of the mansion. “I need an EVAC as soon as humanly possible.”
“Give me ten minutes.”
“I don’t have ten minutes!” Elizabeth roared as the trucks entered a clear firing range.
She took a deep breath, recited her usual prayer, and calmed her nerves before she began to fire. One shot killed the driver of the first truck, and another killed the driver of the second, sending that truck careening right into a tree. Rubio easily picked off soldiers who attempted to disembark the first two trucks, but others followed and soon overwhelmed their disciplined gunfire. Hordes of Cartel soldiers streamed from the jungle and into the parking lot. Elizabeth and Rubio killed many of them, but their were simply too many of them, and with the amount of fire coming at them, they could barely peak their heads above the balcony wall.
“Shitballs!” Elizabeth muttered as a shot nearly took her head clean off. “Bowman! How much longer?!”
“Seven minutes Nomad!”
The fighting grew desperate. Elizabeth was expending more ammo than she had spent in a long time, and despite her and Rubio’s best efforts, the Cartel soon breached the house in multiple areas. Holt and Weaver were soon locked in a battle of their own, trying to keep the soldiers on the first floor.
“Nomad!” Holt yelled over the radio after another minute or two of fighting. “Last mag!”
Elizabeth sprinted down the hall and handed him two magazines from her vest. “I have two more left myself. Make them count!”
“Yes boss!”
The fighting continued, and the trickle of Cartel soldiers breaking into the home turned into a flood. “Bowman, how much fucking longer?!”
“Two minutes Nomad!”
Elizabeth quickly used her second to last magazine, and inserted the last full one that she had besides the few 9mm pistol mags she had.
The Lord is my shepherd,
I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside quiet waters. He restores my soul;
He guides me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You have anointed my head with oil;
My cup overflows.
Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
In her moment of desperation, the helicopter soon came into view hauling faster than she thought was possible for a helicopter. The Cartel began to fire at it, but two minigun gunners began to light the parking lot up, effortlessly mowing down anyone who tried to fire back at the helicopter. There was nowhere safe to land, so the pilot hovered as close to the balcony as he could safely hover, allowing just enough room for someone to jump on board without it actually being dangerous.
“Everyone get on board!” Elizabeth commanded. Weaver and Holt sprinted down the hallway, but not before they tossed several grenades down the stairwell to cover their retreat. Rubio followed them onto the chopper, and once they were all on, Elizabeth jumped, tumbling to her knees as the helicopter immediately took off away from the heat below them. Shots rang all over the exterior, but the helicopter took flight and the fire slowly died off until it was nothing. They were safe.
“Are you all alright?” Bowman asked. Everyone was exhausted and nobody replied.
Elizabeth unstrapped her helmet and tossed it angrily against the metal wall of the helicopter. She gasped with relief as he yanked her baklava off and leaned back against her seat—she knew that she was lucky to be alive. That was the closest she had ever come to actually dying.
“Nomad?” Bowman asked concerningly.
“Look Bowman!” Elizabeth hissed, grabbing Bowman by her collar and pulling her towards her. “Next time, do your fucking job! I really like not being dead!” She seethed, tossing Bowman back into her seat.
“I didn’t know…” Bowman stammered out, unable to look her associate in the eye.
“That’s your job,” Elizabeth countered, wiping the sweat off of her face. She was absolutely drenched.
“This wasn’t a total loss,” Bowman reasoned. “I’ll have the nerds at the NSA track his signals, we….” she said trailing off, realizing that the entire squad was glaring at her.
“Bowman,” Holt began. “Just shut the fuck up.”
“Yes Holt,” she said ashamedly.
Elizabeth thanked God that she was still alive, but she still wondered how El Sueno knew her name. She took a bit of comfort in the fact that he never used her last name, but he definitely had done a bit of intelligence on her, probably from footage at the party. Whatever the case, it was only a matter of time before El Sueno discovered even more about her and went after her family back home. She would request security for her husband and children as soon as she landed back at the rebel base.
Until then, she was lucky that she was still breathing and without a scratch to boot. El Sueno would pay.
“Will!” Andrew Chandler stated as he began knocking on his son’s door. “Will! We have to go to church! Hurry up!”
“I don’t want to!” William groaned from inside his room.
“That wasn’t a request Will,” Andrew commanded, his hand on the wooden door. “Now get your clothes on and come down! Mrs. Delgado has offered us a nice breakfast at her house.”
“No!” William protested, tossing something at the door for extra effect.
“I’m coming in,” Andrew warned before slowly opening the door. His son was in his bed, and as soon as Andrew entered the room and turned the lights on, he groaned loudly and hid under his blankets in order to avoid actually having to speak to his dad. “Son,” Andrew began, sitting on the bed yet not disturbing the blankets that his son was hiding under. “What is going on?”
“I don’t want to go to church!” William cried. “I don’t want to!”
“Why not? You love it there.”
“Everyone there has a mom!”
“You have a mother as well Will,” Andrew reasoned. “She loves you very much. More than you know.”
“Oh yeah?!” William replied angrily, tossing the blankets off of him dramatically. “If she loves me, why is she never here?! Why is she always missing my games and school stuff? Why is she always gone! She hates me!”
“Son,” Andrew took a deep breath and looking at his son with the utmost care. “Mom loves you so much.”
“No she…” William started up again before being forcefully interrupted by Andrew.
“Let me tell you a story. When she was…before you were here,” Andrew started, careful in his use of words, “she nearly died in an accident when you were in her tummy. The doctors said that…the doctors said that she had to choose between you or her to live. I pleaded with her, I reasoned with her, I cried day in and day out, and do you know what she told the doctors?”
“What?”
“She told them that she wanted you to live over her. She told me that she had already lived her life, and that her beautiful gift from God had an entire life ahead of him. I thought she was crazy…but funny enough, God found it to let both you and her live. That is how much she loves you William. She was ready to die so that you could live on.”
“I..” William said, unable to look his dad in the eyes. Andrew wasn’t angry though—he reached out and hugged his son as tightly as he could.
“I know it’s hard when she isn’t here. It’s hard for me and I miss her so much whenever she is not at home, and if it’s hard for me, I can’t imagine how much more difficult it is for you. Just know that she loves you so so much and would do anything in her power to make sure that you are safe and taken care of. She is always thinking about you.”
It was a touching moment between a father and a son, but it was quickly interrupted by his daughter Sarah sprinting up the stairs and into the room. “Dad, someone is at the door,” she stated boisterously.
“At this hour on a Sunday?” Andrew wondered. “Fair enough. William, you and I will have some lunch after church, just tell me where.”
“Alright dad, thanks,” William replied, looking a little bit better than he did just a few minutes ago.
Andrew hugged him once more before following his daughter down the stairs and next to the front door. There, beyond the French glass door, was a set of men in military fatigues and helmets, clearly from Fort Bragg or one of the nearby training camps. He was confused and not really expecting them, but he opened the door nonetheless.
“Hello,” one of the soldiers began. “Is this the Chandler household?”
“It is,” Andrew answered warily. “May I inquire as to why you are here at my home?”
“Here is a note from your wife Elizabeth.”
His heart stopped briefly and his blood grew cold—he feared the worse.
Andrew,
I will keep this very short. You and the kids may possibly be in danger. I wish I could explain, but I’m bound to my oaths. I don’t think anything will happen, but just in the off chance something does, I requested that security be sent over to guard the kids. I’m safe, and I will be home as soon as I can. First thing we do when I get back is we try for a fourth child, if you know what I mean
-Lizzy
His heart beat slowed as he calmed himself, realizing that his wife was not actually hurt or dead. “So you guys will be my family’s security for the timebeing?”
“Not us,” the soldier shook his head. “No, you won’t even know they are around. They are just some, lets just say sneaky guys and gals. If you see people at your church that you don’t know, its most likely them,” the soldier explained, handing Andrew a small device. “If you get spooked, just press this and our boys will come.”
“I’m just confused,” Andrew asked, scratching his head and leaning his hand on the glass door. “What is my wife doing that requires this? Surely her rank doesn’t warrant this level of security? Is there more that I am missing to this story?”
“All of that is classified and I am not at liberty to tell you anything Mr. Chandler.”
What is my wife involved with? He wondered. “Fair enough,” Andrew sighed. “Thanks for the information. Have a great day now.”
“You do the same sir,” the soldier nodded his head and walked away from the door. Andrew slowly closed his door and watched as the team of soldiers walked into their cars and sped off and out of the neighborhood.
“Daddy?” Sarah asked. “Who was that?”
“Um…just some friends I know,” Andrew replied, not wanting to worry his young child. “Don’t you worry about a thing,” he smiled.
“Alright daddy,” Sarah answered sweetly. “When will we get breakfast?”
“Soon.”
Mrs. Delgado was a fantastic chef, and she once again did not disappoint, with a healthy serving of bacon and eggs. Andrea was a wonderful lady, and her and Andrew bonded closely over their shared experiences of constantly having their better halves be away so often and for such variable lengths of time. The Chandler and Delgado families were practically inseparable as a result. They got some great bonding time in over their shared experiences and enjoyed a great meal together.
After their breakfast at the Delgado household, the two families went to church together. The children went to their respective classes, and Andrew joined Andrea in their Bible study before the main service.
“Andrew!” The teacher exclaimed as Andrew entered the room late for the class. “Pleasure to see you! We were wondering if you would make it!”
“Elizabeth is deployed so it takes me a bit longer to get ready.”
“Sorry to hear that,” the teacher frowned. “How long will she be gone?”
“To be honest Chuck, I have absolutely no idea.”
“We will pray for her.”
“Thanks man,” Andrew grinned weakly as he sat down next to Ernie—it was the only seat available.
“Alright everyone, let’s turn to Mathew 24. I know we have been in Revelation, but this passage that the pastor has been going through sheds some light on the events that may possibly occur in the future.”
Andrew was very familiar with the passage, but it confused him ever since he first read when became a Christian not long after the birth of his first child. Elizabeth, being the dutiful Southern Baptist that she was, was convinced that the events would play out more or less in a fashion indicated by a literal reading of Revelation: in theological speak, she was a Dispensationalist, meaning that God interacted with man differently based on which events were playing out at the time.
But immediately after the tribulation of those days the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will fall from the sky, and the powers of the heavens will be shaken. And then the sign of the Son of Man will appear in the sky, and then all the tribes of the earth will mourn, and they will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of the sky with power and great glory. And He will send forth His angels with a great trumpet and they will gather together His elect from the four winds, from one end of the sky to the other.
“What does this mean class?” The teacher asked.
Andrew was the first to open his mouth. “I always took it to sort of refer to the post rapture events, with the world being in a terrible state, and God coming back from heaven to reap the fields of the faithful who survived the tribulation.”
“That is certainly one way to look at it,” the teacher replied. He tried to begin, but Ernie managed to preempt him.
“What if this refers to an event that will happen soon, very soon, and one that we should actually prepare for?”
“Go on,” Chuck said, immediately regretting this.
“God is mad at America,” Ernie raved. “We are a sinful nation that kill with impunity. Homosexuals run rampant in the streets, people are flaunting the will of God by changing their gender, and societal norms are breaking down in favor of madness. Millions of babies have been killed in the genocide that we call abortion, and we Christians do nothing but sit back and hope it gets better! God is angry…yes…God is angry at America and how we spit in his face. Judgement is coming, and he will cleanse the world with holy fire.”
“That sounds all well and good,” Chuck tried to say, but was immediately cut off.
“The preacher Joseph understands this! Do you not see the same news that I see? Things won’t get better—they are getting worse, day in and day out! War is inevitable, and the Great Nuclear Collapse will come upon us…”
“Nuclear war?” Andrew said mockingly. “God will judge us by nuclear devastation?”
“It is coming, and the ‘church’ is doing nothing about it! We just sit here and continue living the way that we want to. This is real as it gets…why are we not preparing?”
“Who told you this stuff?” The Chuck inquired.
“Joseph Seed,” Ernie stated proudly. “The prophet of God!”
“He sounds like he’s been smoking too much weed,” Andrew laughed. “You believe this?”
“You believe America is sinful, right?”
“I mean, we have our issues…”
“Abortion?”
“A sin.”
“Homosexuality?”
“A sin as well,” Andrew replied.
“Then why are you not convinced that America is evil?”
The class looked at each-other awkwardly and with discomfort. “Let’s change the topic,” Chuck sighed. “Maybe we can come back…”
“Answer the question!” Ernie grumbled.
“America has it’s problems,” Andrew gritted his teeth, “but we have done much good. I don’t think it’s fair to say that America is a totally depraved place Ernie. I don’t think that is a good assumption to make.”
Ernie stood up. “I’m just warning you all. I hope that Joseph is wrong, but I don’t think he is.”
“I don’t want to!” William groaned from inside his room.
“That wasn’t a request Will,” Andrew commanded, his hand on the wooden door. “Now get your clothes on and come down! Mrs. Delgado has offered us a nice breakfast at her house.”
“No!” William protested, tossing something at the door for extra effect.
“I’m coming in,” Andrew warned before slowly opening the door. His son was in his bed, and as soon as Andrew entered the room and turned the lights on, he groaned loudly and hid under his blankets in order to avoid actually having to speak to his dad. “Son,” Andrew began, sitting on the bed yet not disturbing the blankets that his son was hiding under. “What is going on?”
“I don’t want to go to church!” William cried. “I don’t want to!”
“Why not? You love it there.”
“Everyone there has a mom!”
“You have a mother as well Will,” Andrew reasoned. “She loves you very much. More than you know.”
“Oh yeah?!” William replied angrily, tossing the blankets off of him dramatically. “If she loves me, why is she never here?! Why is she always missing my games and school stuff? Why is she always gone! She hates me!”
“Son,” Andrew took a deep breath and looking at his son with the utmost care. “Mom loves you so much.”
“No she…” William started up again before being forcefully interrupted by Andrew.
“Let me tell you a story. When she was…before you were here,” Andrew started, careful in his use of words, “she nearly died in an accident when you were in her tummy. The doctors said that…the doctors said that she had to choose between you or her to live. I pleaded with her, I reasoned with her, I cried day in and day out, and do you know what she told the doctors?”
“What?”
“She told them that she wanted you to live over her. She told me that she had already lived her life, and that her beautiful gift from God had an entire life ahead of him. I thought she was crazy…but funny enough, God found it to let both you and her live. That is how much she loves you William. She was ready to die so that you could live on.”
“I..” William said, unable to look his dad in the eyes. Andrew wasn’t angry though—he reached out and hugged his son as tightly as he could.
“I know it’s hard when she isn’t here. It’s hard for me and I miss her so much whenever she is not at home, and if it’s hard for me, I can’t imagine how much more difficult it is for you. Just know that she loves you so so much and would do anything in her power to make sure that you are safe and taken care of. She is always thinking about you.”
It was a touching moment between a father and a son, but it was quickly interrupted by his daughter Sarah sprinting up the stairs and into the room. “Dad, someone is at the door,” she stated boisterously.
“At this hour on a Sunday?” Andrew wondered. “Fair enough. William, you and I will have some lunch after church, just tell me where.”
“Alright dad, thanks,” William replied, looking a little bit better than he did just a few minutes ago.
Andrew hugged him once more before following his daughter down the stairs and next to the front door. There, beyond the French glass door, was a set of men in military fatigues and helmets, clearly from Fort Bragg or one of the nearby training camps. He was confused and not really expecting them, but he opened the door nonetheless.
“Hello,” one of the soldiers began. “Is this the Chandler household?”
“It is,” Andrew answered warily. “May I inquire as to why you are here at my home?”
“Here is a note from your wife Elizabeth.”
His heart stopped briefly and his blood grew cold—he feared the worse.
Andrew,
I will keep this very short. You and the kids may possibly be in danger. I wish I could explain, but I’m bound to my oaths. I don’t think anything will happen, but just in the off chance something does, I requested that security be sent over to guard the kids. I’m safe, and I will be home as soon as I can. First thing we do when I get back is we try for a fourth child, if you know what I mean
-Lizzy
His heart beat slowed as he calmed himself, realizing that his wife was not actually hurt or dead. “So you guys will be my family’s security for the timebeing?”
“Not us,” the soldier shook his head. “No, you won’t even know they are around. They are just some, lets just say sneaky guys and gals. If you see people at your church that you don’t know, its most likely them,” the soldier explained, handing Andrew a small device. “If you get spooked, just press this and our boys will come.”
“I’m just confused,” Andrew asked, scratching his head and leaning his hand on the glass door. “What is my wife doing that requires this? Surely her rank doesn’t warrant this level of security? Is there more that I am missing to this story?”
“All of that is classified and I am not at liberty to tell you anything Mr. Chandler.”
What is my wife involved with? He wondered. “Fair enough,” Andrew sighed. “Thanks for the information. Have a great day now.”
“You do the same sir,” the soldier nodded his head and walked away from the door. Andrew slowly closed his door and watched as the team of soldiers walked into their cars and sped off and out of the neighborhood.
“Daddy?” Sarah asked. “Who was that?”
“Um…just some friends I know,” Andrew replied, not wanting to worry his young child. “Don’t you worry about a thing,” he smiled.
“Alright daddy,” Sarah answered sweetly. “When will we get breakfast?”
“Soon.”
Mrs. Delgado was a fantastic chef, and she once again did not disappoint, with a healthy serving of bacon and eggs. Andrea was a wonderful lady, and her and Andrew bonded closely over their shared experiences of constantly having their better halves be away so often and for such variable lengths of time. The Chandler and Delgado families were practically inseparable as a result. They got some great bonding time in over their shared experiences and enjoyed a great meal together.
After their breakfast at the Delgado household, the two families went to church together. The children went to their respective classes, and Andrew joined Andrea in their Bible study before the main service.
“Andrew!” The teacher exclaimed as Andrew entered the room late for the class. “Pleasure to see you! We were wondering if you would make it!”
“Elizabeth is deployed so it takes me a bit longer to get ready.”
“Sorry to hear that,” the teacher frowned. “How long will she be gone?”
“To be honest Chuck, I have absolutely no idea.”
“We will pray for her.”
“Thanks man,” Andrew grinned weakly as he sat down next to Ernie—it was the only seat available.
“Alright everyone, let’s turn to Mathew 24. I know we have been in Revelation, but this passage that the pastor has been going through sheds some light on the events that may possibly occur in the future.”
Andrew was very familiar with the passage, but it confused him ever since he first read when became a Christian not long after the birth of his first child. Elizabeth, being the dutiful Southern Baptist that she was, was convinced that the events would play out more or less in a fashion indicated by a literal reading of Revelation: in theological speak, she was a Dispensationalist, meaning that God interacted with man differently based on which events were playing out at the time.
But immediately after the tribulation of those days the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will fall from the sky, and the powers of the heavens will be shaken. And then the sign of the Son of Man will appear in the sky, and then all the tribes of the earth will mourn, and they will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of the sky with power and great glory. And He will send forth His angels with a great trumpet and they will gather together His elect from the four winds, from one end of the sky to the other.
“What does this mean class?” The teacher asked.
Andrew was the first to open his mouth. “I always took it to sort of refer to the post rapture events, with the world being in a terrible state, and God coming back from heaven to reap the fields of the faithful who survived the tribulation.”
“That is certainly one way to look at it,” the teacher replied. He tried to begin, but Ernie managed to preempt him.
“What if this refers to an event that will happen soon, very soon, and one that we should actually prepare for?”
“Go on,” Chuck said, immediately regretting this.
“God is mad at America,” Ernie raved. “We are a sinful nation that kill with impunity. Homosexuals run rampant in the streets, people are flaunting the will of God by changing their gender, and societal norms are breaking down in favor of madness. Millions of babies have been killed in the genocide that we call abortion, and we Christians do nothing but sit back and hope it gets better! God is angry…yes…God is angry at America and how we spit in his face. Judgement is coming, and he will cleanse the world with holy fire.”
“That sounds all well and good,” Chuck tried to say, but was immediately cut off.
“The preacher Joseph understands this! Do you not see the same news that I see? Things won’t get better—they are getting worse, day in and day out! War is inevitable, and the Great Nuclear Collapse will come upon us…”
“Nuclear war?” Andrew said mockingly. “God will judge us by nuclear devastation?”
“It is coming, and the ‘church’ is doing nothing about it! We just sit here and continue living the way that we want to. This is real as it gets…why are we not preparing?”
“Who told you this stuff?” The Chuck inquired.
“Joseph Seed,” Ernie stated proudly. “The prophet of God!”
“He sounds like he’s been smoking too much weed,” Andrew laughed. “You believe this?”
“You believe America is sinful, right?”
“I mean, we have our issues…”
“Abortion?”
“A sin.”
“Homosexuality?”
“A sin as well,” Andrew replied.
“Then why are you not convinced that America is evil?”
The class looked at each-other awkwardly and with discomfort. “Let’s change the topic,” Chuck sighed. “Maybe we can come back…”
“Answer the question!” Ernie grumbled.
“America has it’s problems,” Andrew gritted his teeth, “but we have done much good. I don’t think it’s fair to say that America is a totally depraved place Ernie. I don’t think that is a good assumption to make.”
Ernie stood up. “I’m just warning you all. I hope that Joseph is wrong, but I don’t think he is.”
I needed to write this chapter just to slow things down and cleanse the palette if you will. Normal programming will continue when I write the next chapter! I was touring new apartments over the last week I had little time to actually write, so apologies there! Also (sorry writing this edit from my phone), Ernie and Andrew did make some theological statements that may offend some people. These are standard and normal Christian views and I’m not making any truth claims one way or another. Elizabeth is a very religiously conservative person. Andrew is a bit less so, but has become conservative as he aged. Ernie is a bit off the rails. I’m not trying to hurt anyone, but I felt like I needed to add those just to reflect the environment and belief systems that they come from.
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None offense should be taken from a work of litterature like this IMO.
Thanks! Just wanted to be safe
This came to no surprise to Elizabeth Davis Chandler, but some people in the Cartel had a conscience that let them feel guilty about the daily atrocities they committed in the name of a better Bolivia. Some Cartel soldiers she cut down would beg for mercy and ask for forgiveness—an indication that they knew what they were doing was wrong. Some voluntarily surrendered and join the rebels after particularly large raids and attacks. However, nobody at the upper ends of the Cartel food chain would crack, at least not in her mind. They were too far gone, too far into the system. A regular soldier had divided loyalties. Not the leaders…no.
So Elizabeth was incredibly surprised to hear that to hear that one of the Cartel’s leaders secretly contacted Pac Katari, asking for clemency and forgiveness in return for information. Katari put him in touch with Bowman, and everything was off to the races. He claimed his name was Ramon Feliz, a young blogger and youtuber who was the face of the Cartel’s media operations and video editing. He created slick videos, advertisements, and movies all depicting the Cartel’s version of events, all while hiding what the Cartel actually did. It was an effective marketing tool, and led many poorer young Bolivian men to the Cartel’s ranks. Bowman was understandably hesitant, especially after she nearly led Elizabeth and her squad to their graves, but her tone changed when he sent her some extremely graphic pictures:
Child trafficking and…sexual exploitation. The Cartel was involved in trafficking children. It sent shivers down Elizabeth’s spine when Bowman showed her a heavily censored version of what Ramon Feliz sent her. He felt so guilty and so torn up when he found out the truth, that he had to fight back somehow; this was his atonement, letting good people know. The amount of files that he claimed to have were so large that he could not safely send them over the internet, no. He wanted to meet with the Americans face to face and safely hand the information off in a discrete transaction.
Once everything was agreed upon, he revealed his location: La Paz Bolivia, quite far from where the Ghost Recon team was holed up in. Obviously, the Ghosts would stick out like a soar thumb in the middle of the city, so they disguised themselves as a tour group and were driven overnight in a bus into the city. They would be driven to the meeting spot, quickly get the information, and make their exit. If anything went wrong, they were totally armed to the teeth, but that was the last thing on their mind. They stayed in a nice hotel, then a rebel car met them around noon the next day.
“We are nearing the meeting point,” Elizabeth said, staring at her phone. She reached under her t-shirt and racked a bullet into her small concealed sub-machine gun. “In and out, we grab the stuff from him and meet our car at the end of the block. Got it?”
“Yes boss,” Holt nodded, also loading his firearm.
La Paz was like nothing that Elizabeth had ever seen before. It was built high in the mountains, and rolled up and down with the changes in elevation. It sprawled endlessly up and down cliffs, hills, and tall Andean peaks. The city was jammed tight, with every single square inch of available space taken up by similarly colored apartment blocks, houses, shops, and offices. In front of her, the city sloped downward into a large valley, and in the distance, the city rose into the sky, sloping upward. Driving here was difficult due to the large number of pedestrians, so Elizabeth was quite thankful that she didn’t have to drive today.
“Why are we meeting in a café?” Rubio inquired as he looked out the window.
“Somewhere public is best,” Elizabeth explained. “We can simply meet him for a few seconds and be on our way.”
“Fair point.”
The car drove down tightly packed streets and alleys before turning into a giant market square with somewhat modern offices and cafés. “We’re here,” Elizabeth noted. The squad exited the car and it immediately drove off to the meeting point.
The market was filled with people going about their daily businesses, buying and selling items, and just milling about. Cars tried to fight through the packed crowds, but found their efforts to be nigh impossible due to the narrow alleys and streets. The area smelled absolutely horrible, with dense smog making the air foul and hard to breathe. The first thing Elizabeth wanted to do was to get out as soon as she possibly could.
“He wanted to meet us here?” Holt asked. “This place is terrible.”
“Keep your eyes peeled for the Hotel La Joya,” Elizabeth muttered, pushing some locals aside. “He’s right outside of it.”
“Rodger that boss.”
After a couple of minutes of walking through the dense throngs, Elizabeth finally spotted the hotel across a busy street. She merely copied the locals and forced her way across the busy road, dodging cars and donkeys alike. Sitting a bench was the person she was looking for—Ramon Feliz. Her heart broke when he saw him. He was baby-faced and looked no older than twenty or twenty one years old, with nerdy looking glasses and his hair gelled up into spikes. Someone at that age should be worrying out college or moving out of their house, not discreetly handing information over to a team of United States secret recon operators. He immediately stood from his bench and reached into his pocket, grabbing something small and clenching his fist to hide it.
“You are Ramon Feliz?” Elizabeth asked, shaking his hands tightly.
“I am,” he said, deftly handing her a small object as they shook each-others hands. “Please let me go with you.”
“I can’t promise that,” Elizabeth whispered. “I should be leaving now.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Ramon pleaded, “they will find out. I don’t want to die. Please.”
“Alright,” Elizabeth replied, feeling so incredibly bad for him but still wary. “We’ll find you somewhere safe.”
“Thank you gringo. Thank you.”
As Elizabeth turned to head towards the place where the car was parked, a police car screeched to a halt right next to them on the road. Three police officers stepped out of the car and made their way for the team. Elizabeth thought about gunning them down where they stood, but decided to talk her way out if she could: urban warfare was not something that she really wanted to engage in at the moment.
“What are you white people doing here?” The officer asked in Spanish.
“We are tourists and we got lost,” Elizabeth replied in technically fluent Spanish, but she made no effort at all to mask her obvious Southern accent. “We called a taxi and we will be on our way.”
“Then what are doing with Ramon Feliz here? We saw you talking to him.” The officer countered. “He is wanted by the Cartel.”
Elizabeth briefly turned to Ramon, and saw that he was shaking all over; he definitely did not set them up. No way. She knew that the officers were in the employ of Santa Blanca.
“He helped us call a taxi,” Elizabeth responded. “There are a lot of different cab companies here in La Paz.”
“Stop lying to us Elizabeth,” one of the officers roared. “We knew you were here. El Sueno had keyloggers….”
Before the officer finished, Elizabeth swiftly reached under her shirt and grabbed her sub-machine gun. The officers fumbled with their guns, but were quickly and mercilessly executed where they stood. Other officers who had been hidden in the area and inside buildings facing the hotel immediately opened fire, forcing the squad to retreat into the hotel behind them, trading fire as they did so.
“Did you fucking set us up?!” Rubio yelled, digging his gun into Ramon’s skull.
“No! I swear!!” He cried. “They must have keylogged me!”
“No time for this bullshit!” Elizabeth ordered. “There has to be a back door! The front is crawling with police and Cartel. Bowman! Where is our rendezvous car?!”
“It sped off Nomad.”
The squad made their way through the hotel as guests began to panic and flee in all directions, trying to avoid the swarm of gunfire that was penetrating the hotel interior. Elizabeth led the squad through the kitchen and through a back loading dock, revealing a smaller side street, which thankfully, the police had not thought to station themselves in. At the end of the small alley was a major road.
“What’s the play?!” Weaver asked as the squad sprinted down the alley.
“Just follow me!” Elizabeth ordered back.
He soon found his answer. Upon making the major road, Elizabeth stopped the first car she found and pointed her gun at the driver. He froze in panic, so Elizabeth fired a warning shot into the back of the car to prove her point. Holt and Rubio broke the car windows and unlocked it from the outside, allowing Elizabeth to open the door and drag the man from the front seat and toss him onto the road. She got into the front seat and started to drive.
“Holy shit!” Elizabeth gasped. “I can’t say I have ever carjacked someone before,” she lamented, putting the car into gear and driving into traffic.
“Can’t say I have either,” Holt laughed. “I always wanted to do something like that.”
“Look out!” Ramon Feliz screamed as he looked in the rear window. Several police cars and vans, likely sent their to block the alleyway they just came from, lit their signals and began speeding after them.
Rubio, Holt, and Weaver all leaned out of the car and began to fire upon the chasing police vehicles. One of the vans got too close and the driver was easily dispatched, causing the van to hurl itself into a streetlight and flip over. Elizabeth continued to speed through the streets, dangerously weaving in and out of lanes and on-coming traffic. Cars blared their horns, but most got out of the way of the obvious chase.
“Bowman!” Elizabeth exclaimed, “I don’t know this damn city! I’m going to need immediate EVAC and now! El Sueno is going to send the entire city’s police department after us!”
“Head to the airport Nomad,” Bowman replied. “I’m getting in touch with a CIA contact there who has an airplane on hand.”
More and more police cars joined the pursuit, but were kept mostly at bay by the squad’s accurate fire, which took out any pursuing car that got too close. The police attempted to set up roadblocks, but were not at all quick enough and were easily driven through.
“Left!!” Rubio declared, looking at his phone for GPS help. Elizabeth drifted the car onto the main highway that went through La Paz. Elizabeth was really able to speed up here, breezing by traffic and egging the police to drive even faster.
“Shit shit shit!” Elizabeth roared. “Roadblock!” There, in front, was a massive roadblock of trucks and police cars that had been hastily set up. She jolted the wheel to the right and through a chain-link fence that separated the highway from another of La Paz’s many neighborhoods, and drove through even tighter alleys and through smaller tin homes. The neighborhood was incredibly small, and, to her delight, was right next to the airport. They drove through yet another fence and were now on a massive green field that was used for smaller airplanes to take off and land.
“Nomad, I have a Cessna on the grass runway adjacent to the tarmac,” Bowman relayed. “I’ll see you on it.”
The police cars somehow made their way through the neighborhood as well and chased the squad through the airport itself, but as they neared the Cessna that was ready to fly, a team of CIA agents exited the plane and began to fire upon the police cars, forcing them to fall back once and for all. Elizabeth slammed the breaks, exited the car, and followed her squad onto the plane.
“Welcome Nomad,” Bowman grinned as she helped Elizabeth onto the plane. “Alright asshole, get this plane into the air!”
The pilot nodded and put the throttle at full power. The police tried to fire at the plane, but it took-off too quickly and was soon in the air. They were safe once again.
“God damn that was fucking sick!” Holt beamed. “That was right out of an action movie! I love this job.”
“That was too close,” Elizabeth cautioned. “I really don’t like being fired upon myself.”
“I’m just glad you all are safe,” Bowman nodded. “Including our boy Ramon here. You have the stuff?”
“I gave it to her,” Ramon nodded. “It is a USB full of everything you could ever need. El Sueno won’t be able to last much longer now.”
It was true. When they arrived back in their base, they searched through the files. Gigabytes of videos, pictures, and evidence of the Cartel trafficking children. It was gruesome and perverse stuff that made even the calm and collected Elizabeth almost recoil in horror. Ramon Feliz spilled everything. He was the biggest break that the team could have asked for.
The evidence was soon sent to the JSOC, who were more than delighted to broadcast it around the world.
So Elizabeth was incredibly surprised to hear that to hear that one of the Cartel’s leaders secretly contacted Pac Katari, asking for clemency and forgiveness in return for information. Katari put him in touch with Bowman, and everything was off to the races. He claimed his name was Ramon Feliz, a young blogger and youtuber who was the face of the Cartel’s media operations and video editing. He created slick videos, advertisements, and movies all depicting the Cartel’s version of events, all while hiding what the Cartel actually did. It was an effective marketing tool, and led many poorer young Bolivian men to the Cartel’s ranks. Bowman was understandably hesitant, especially after she nearly led Elizabeth and her squad to their graves, but her tone changed when he sent her some extremely graphic pictures:
Child trafficking and…sexual exploitation. The Cartel was involved in trafficking children. It sent shivers down Elizabeth’s spine when Bowman showed her a heavily censored version of what Ramon Feliz sent her. He felt so guilty and so torn up when he found out the truth, that he had to fight back somehow; this was his atonement, letting good people know. The amount of files that he claimed to have were so large that he could not safely send them over the internet, no. He wanted to meet with the Americans face to face and safely hand the information off in a discrete transaction.
Once everything was agreed upon, he revealed his location: La Paz Bolivia, quite far from where the Ghost Recon team was holed up in. Obviously, the Ghosts would stick out like a soar thumb in the middle of the city, so they disguised themselves as a tour group and were driven overnight in a bus into the city. They would be driven to the meeting spot, quickly get the information, and make their exit. If anything went wrong, they were totally armed to the teeth, but that was the last thing on their mind. They stayed in a nice hotel, then a rebel car met them around noon the next day.
“We are nearing the meeting point,” Elizabeth said, staring at her phone. She reached under her t-shirt and racked a bullet into her small concealed sub-machine gun. “In and out, we grab the stuff from him and meet our car at the end of the block. Got it?”
“Yes boss,” Holt nodded, also loading his firearm.
La Paz was like nothing that Elizabeth had ever seen before. It was built high in the mountains, and rolled up and down with the changes in elevation. It sprawled endlessly up and down cliffs, hills, and tall Andean peaks. The city was jammed tight, with every single square inch of available space taken up by similarly colored apartment blocks, houses, shops, and offices. In front of her, the city sloped downward into a large valley, and in the distance, the city rose into the sky, sloping upward. Driving here was difficult due to the large number of pedestrians, so Elizabeth was quite thankful that she didn’t have to drive today.
“Why are we meeting in a café?” Rubio inquired as he looked out the window.
“Somewhere public is best,” Elizabeth explained. “We can simply meet him for a few seconds and be on our way.”
“Fair point.”
The car drove down tightly packed streets and alleys before turning into a giant market square with somewhat modern offices and cafés. “We’re here,” Elizabeth noted. The squad exited the car and it immediately drove off to the meeting point.
The market was filled with people going about their daily businesses, buying and selling items, and just milling about. Cars tried to fight through the packed crowds, but found their efforts to be nigh impossible due to the narrow alleys and streets. The area smelled absolutely horrible, with dense smog making the air foul and hard to breathe. The first thing Elizabeth wanted to do was to get out as soon as she possibly could.
“He wanted to meet us here?” Holt asked. “This place is terrible.”
“Keep your eyes peeled for the Hotel La Joya,” Elizabeth muttered, pushing some locals aside. “He’s right outside of it.”
“Rodger that boss.”
After a couple of minutes of walking through the dense throngs, Elizabeth finally spotted the hotel across a busy street. She merely copied the locals and forced her way across the busy road, dodging cars and donkeys alike. Sitting a bench was the person she was looking for—Ramon Feliz. Her heart broke when he saw him. He was baby-faced and looked no older than twenty or twenty one years old, with nerdy looking glasses and his hair gelled up into spikes. Someone at that age should be worrying out college or moving out of their house, not discreetly handing information over to a team of United States secret recon operators. He immediately stood from his bench and reached into his pocket, grabbing something small and clenching his fist to hide it.
“You are Ramon Feliz?” Elizabeth asked, shaking his hands tightly.
“I am,” he said, deftly handing her a small object as they shook each-others hands. “Please let me go with you.”
“I can’t promise that,” Elizabeth whispered. “I should be leaving now.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Ramon pleaded, “they will find out. I don’t want to die. Please.”
“Alright,” Elizabeth replied, feeling so incredibly bad for him but still wary. “We’ll find you somewhere safe.”
“Thank you gringo. Thank you.”
As Elizabeth turned to head towards the place where the car was parked, a police car screeched to a halt right next to them on the road. Three police officers stepped out of the car and made their way for the team. Elizabeth thought about gunning them down where they stood, but decided to talk her way out if she could: urban warfare was not something that she really wanted to engage in at the moment.
“What are you white people doing here?” The officer asked in Spanish.
“We are tourists and we got lost,” Elizabeth replied in technically fluent Spanish, but she made no effort at all to mask her obvious Southern accent. “We called a taxi and we will be on our way.”
“Then what are doing with Ramon Feliz here? We saw you talking to him.” The officer countered. “He is wanted by the Cartel.”
Elizabeth briefly turned to Ramon, and saw that he was shaking all over; he definitely did not set them up. No way. She knew that the officers were in the employ of Santa Blanca.
“He helped us call a taxi,” Elizabeth responded. “There are a lot of different cab companies here in La Paz.”
“Stop lying to us Elizabeth,” one of the officers roared. “We knew you were here. El Sueno had keyloggers….”
Before the officer finished, Elizabeth swiftly reached under her shirt and grabbed her sub-machine gun. The officers fumbled with their guns, but were quickly and mercilessly executed where they stood. Other officers who had been hidden in the area and inside buildings facing the hotel immediately opened fire, forcing the squad to retreat into the hotel behind them, trading fire as they did so.
“Did you fucking set us up?!” Rubio yelled, digging his gun into Ramon’s skull.
“No! I swear!!” He cried. “They must have keylogged me!”
“No time for this bullshit!” Elizabeth ordered. “There has to be a back door! The front is crawling with police and Cartel. Bowman! Where is our rendezvous car?!”
“It sped off Nomad.”
The squad made their way through the hotel as guests began to panic and flee in all directions, trying to avoid the swarm of gunfire that was penetrating the hotel interior. Elizabeth led the squad through the kitchen and through a back loading dock, revealing a smaller side street, which thankfully, the police had not thought to station themselves in. At the end of the small alley was a major road.
“What’s the play?!” Weaver asked as the squad sprinted down the alley.
“Just follow me!” Elizabeth ordered back.
He soon found his answer. Upon making the major road, Elizabeth stopped the first car she found and pointed her gun at the driver. He froze in panic, so Elizabeth fired a warning shot into the back of the car to prove her point. Holt and Rubio broke the car windows and unlocked it from the outside, allowing Elizabeth to open the door and drag the man from the front seat and toss him onto the road. She got into the front seat and started to drive.
“Holy shit!” Elizabeth gasped. “I can’t say I have ever carjacked someone before,” she lamented, putting the car into gear and driving into traffic.
“Can’t say I have either,” Holt laughed. “I always wanted to do something like that.”
“Look out!” Ramon Feliz screamed as he looked in the rear window. Several police cars and vans, likely sent their to block the alleyway they just came from, lit their signals and began speeding after them.
Rubio, Holt, and Weaver all leaned out of the car and began to fire upon the chasing police vehicles. One of the vans got too close and the driver was easily dispatched, causing the van to hurl itself into a streetlight and flip over. Elizabeth continued to speed through the streets, dangerously weaving in and out of lanes and on-coming traffic. Cars blared their horns, but most got out of the way of the obvious chase.
“Bowman!” Elizabeth exclaimed, “I don’t know this damn city! I’m going to need immediate EVAC and now! El Sueno is going to send the entire city’s police department after us!”
“Head to the airport Nomad,” Bowman replied. “I’m getting in touch with a CIA contact there who has an airplane on hand.”
More and more police cars joined the pursuit, but were kept mostly at bay by the squad’s accurate fire, which took out any pursuing car that got too close. The police attempted to set up roadblocks, but were not at all quick enough and were easily driven through.
“Left!!” Rubio declared, looking at his phone for GPS help. Elizabeth drifted the car onto the main highway that went through La Paz. Elizabeth was really able to speed up here, breezing by traffic and egging the police to drive even faster.
“Shit shit shit!” Elizabeth roared. “Roadblock!” There, in front, was a massive roadblock of trucks and police cars that had been hastily set up. She jolted the wheel to the right and through a chain-link fence that separated the highway from another of La Paz’s many neighborhoods, and drove through even tighter alleys and through smaller tin homes. The neighborhood was incredibly small, and, to her delight, was right next to the airport. They drove through yet another fence and were now on a massive green field that was used for smaller airplanes to take off and land.
“Nomad, I have a Cessna on the grass runway adjacent to the tarmac,” Bowman relayed. “I’ll see you on it.”
The police cars somehow made their way through the neighborhood as well and chased the squad through the airport itself, but as they neared the Cessna that was ready to fly, a team of CIA agents exited the plane and began to fire upon the police cars, forcing them to fall back once and for all. Elizabeth slammed the breaks, exited the car, and followed her squad onto the plane.
“Welcome Nomad,” Bowman grinned as she helped Elizabeth onto the plane. “Alright asshole, get this plane into the air!”
The pilot nodded and put the throttle at full power. The police tried to fire at the plane, but it took-off too quickly and was soon in the air. They were safe once again.
“God damn that was fucking sick!” Holt beamed. “That was right out of an action movie! I love this job.”
“That was too close,” Elizabeth cautioned. “I really don’t like being fired upon myself.”
“I’m just glad you all are safe,” Bowman nodded. “Including our boy Ramon here. You have the stuff?”
“I gave it to her,” Ramon nodded. “It is a USB full of everything you could ever need. El Sueno won’t be able to last much longer now.”
It was true. When they arrived back in their base, they searched through the files. Gigabytes of videos, pictures, and evidence of the Cartel trafficking children. It was gruesome and perverse stuff that made even the calm and collected Elizabeth almost recoil in horror. Ramon Feliz spilled everything. He was the biggest break that the team could have asked for.
The evidence was soon sent to the JSOC, who were more than delighted to broadcast it around the world.
Elizabeth was a thinker, and someone who spent many hours contemplating and mediating on her life and how she could live it better. Breaking her seemingly impenetrable shell was difficult—people used to joke that they needed to check her pulse during combat jumps just to make sure that she was actually alive because of how stone cold her demeanor would become. Much of her free time was spent within her own thoughts, and today was no exception. It was noon and the camp was bustling with rebels moving arms and people around. Elizabeth found it overwhelming and decided to take a little hike by herself into the jungle. Trekking down old paths, she found a perfect secluded spot.
It was right by a small creek, filled with the sounds of rushing water, the chirping of insects, and the smell of fresh plants. The jungle was truly alive and full of noise, but in this moment, Elizabeth was at peace. She sat on a fallen tree, took a deep breath, and turned her downwards towards the lush jungle floor before her. In just a few hours, the news would be leaked about the Cartel, and the Ghosts would be moved in to capture Sueno before he fled. The news would certainly cause a stir in the nation.
“God,” she began out-loud, gripping the log tightly with her right hand. “I need help. I just don’t know anymore. I’m good at this I know, but it feels so wrong. You know, Andrew needs me, poor William is hurting, Emily and Sarah probably want me back… God I’m failing them, yet this is my duty, my job, my calling. Help my family to stay strong right now, and let them know just how much I love them! Ever since I was a cadet this is what I wanted, and yet now that I’m basically at the peak of my career, I feel as if I’m disobeying you. Help me God! Please give me guidance on whether I should quit and join Keanu, or keep serving in the military, despite all the people that I am killing. I know they are bad people, rapists, murderers, terrorists, but am I turning the other cheek? Am I obeying you? If I’m not, Lord, please let me atone…”
It all came out like a stream of consciousness, with all of her desires being poured out almost at random. She was knelt over and practically in tears, crying out to her King for mercy and for wisdom. She was torn.
“Nomad!” Came a heavily Bolivian accented voice from behind her, interrupting her grief. Elizabeth was startled a little bit, and turned her head to see what was happening. There were two rebels standing next to each other.
“You scared me!” She scolded, gently clutching her heart.
“I apologize Yanqui,” one of the rebels replied, dressed in traditional Bolivian tribal wear mixed with captured military gear, “Bowman requests you in the camp.”
“Tell her I’m busy,” Elizabeth sighed, turning back towards the stream. “If she needs me, she can call me.”
“I apologize Nomad,” the other rebel hissed, racking the slide of his rifle back, “that was not, what do you say, a request.”
Elizabeth immediately knew that something was off. “Easy now, no need to threaten me,” she replied, waving her hands downward trying to defuse them. “I’ll go to her if its that important.”
“Your pistol Yanqui,” he said, reaching his hand out.
“Why do you need it?”
“Just give it to us please, Bowman wants you to be unarmed.”
She sighed but handed it over—they had the draw on her and resisting would not be easy. The rebels began to let them her back down the path, but she strategically positioned herself a step or two behind them. At first, she thought this was a method of them trying to rape her or something, but one of the rebels reached into his vest and pulled out a radio. He began speak in Quechua, a language that Elizabeth did not have a solid grasp of aside from a minor phrases that she learned during her briefings, but from what she did pick up, she deduced that the rebel was telling his commander that the American commander had been captured and that he was bringing her to the prison.
She stepped another step back and quickly reached down her leg and pulled out a rather large knife that she always had on hand. The rebel in front of her did not see anything coming: she brutally stabbed him in the neck from behind multiple times exceedingly quickly. She tossed his body to the side and tackled the other rebel before he could react, using her momentum to push him against a tree, disarming him in the process. The two struggled for a short time, but it became very clear that Elizabeth had the jump on him. She pushed her knife closer and closer to his chest, before finally using her other hand to hammer it right into his heart with a great shout, killing him almost instantly. The other rebel she had stabbed thrashed around violently, but quickly drowned in his own blood.
“Bowman!” She said into her earpiece as she picked her pistol off of the ground and wiped blood off of her hands. Nothing. “Midas? Holt? Weaver? Anyone?! Is anyone hearing me?!”
Nothing.
What is going on?!
“Griffin!” She asked, referring to Scott Mitchell, the head of the Ghosts. “Griffin? Do you hear me?!”
“How copy Nomad?”
She practically gasped with relief that at least someone out there was listening. “I was just jumped by two rebels. I killed them, but nobody else in the squad is responding. Do you know what the hell is going on down here?”
“Did I hear that right Nomad? You were attacked by rebels?”
“I was Griffin,” Elizabeth responded as she hid the two bodies in thick growth. “Nobody else is responding. I’m going to head back to the base and see what is going on.”
“Rodger that Nomad, stay safe and keep us updated. I’ll try and figure out what is occurring down there.”
Elizabeth feared the absolute worst, and her head began to ache with the possibility that her squad was dead. Rubio, her best friend aside from her husband of course, might have been killed. Andrea would be a widow with four young children…the thought made Elizabeth want to cry, but there was no time for that. She had to survive…for her husband and children. If her squad was dead, however, she would burn whoever killed them to the ground.
She slowly snuck back to the base and found a decent spot to overlook it. Most of the rebels were busy loading firearms and other weapons onto trucks—the rebels were clearly gearing for something big. While a good number of the rebel forces had already moved, there were around twenty or so still on the premises. The commander of this specific rebel battalion was screaming at some grunts in Quechua, and Elizabeth could barely make out that they had lost contact with two men who been sent to capture her. Damn it, they knew she was free. Everyone would undoubtedly be on high alert. A Ghost trapped in a corner was exceedingly dangerous, and they knew that.
I need to find out where my squad is, she thought, gripping her knife. While she did have a pistol, she only had twenty rounds available, and she did not want to waste any bullets. Any kill she made would be up close and personal with her knife.
She soon got her chance. A rebel soldier made the foolish decision to patrol alone, making his way close to where Elizabeth was laying, hidden amongst the thick jungle flora. She slowly inched her way towards him as silently as she knew how, then pounced, covering his mouth with her hand and placing her knife right against his throat. He tried to resist, but soon stopped when he realized that she had him pinned totally down.
“Look asshole,” she whispered in Spanish. “Tell me where my squad is or I will slit your fucking throat. Do you understand?” She gently lifted her hand from his mouth to let his speak.
“Yes yes. They are in the bunker and alive. Please let me go!”
“No can do,” Elizabeth frowned before snapping his neck. The death was painless and instantaneous, the least that the rebel deserved. She hid the body in the undergrowth and went back to her original spot to overlook the base.
Getting to the bunker would be incredibly difficult. Rebels were everywhere, moving about and hunting her down and while they were all armed with rifles, all she had was a pistol and a knife. There was no way she could take them all, and even if she managed to stealthy knife a number of them, the group would panic once they realized that several of them were dead and would call for reinforcements.
“Griffin,” Elizabeth whispered. “There are twenty rebels on site. I have solid intel that my squad and Bowman have been captured and are being held in the bunker. I’m going to need some support here.”
“Copy that Nomad, I have a CIA drone in the area that I can redirect to blow the camp. That should give you time to get in and free your squad.”
“Perfect.”
Elizabeth laid hidden in the jungle for a few minutes before Griffin gave her the signal. Moments later, a series of missiles hit the compound, killing many of the rebels and blowing up most of the ammunition caches that had been loaded onto a series of trucks, causing a ripple effect of explosions that killed even more rebels. Elizabeth sprung into action and sprinted into the camp before the rebels could regroup, effortlessly shooting the four survivors without even stopping or pausing to aim. Three rebels ran out of the bunker to figure out what was going on, but Elizabeth gunned them down in a succession of four shots right in their centers of mass. She made her down the concrete stairs of the bunker and recklessly kicked open the wooden door to where her squad was based. A rebel inside the room, however, was waiting for her, and managed to get the jump on her, firing a few bullets towards her. Most of them missed as he was untrained and scared, but one managed to graze her shoulder. She yelled in agony before emptying her magazine into him in a fit of rage.
“Fuck!” She roared as she tossed her pistol away from her, clenching her shoulder and biting her bottom lip in pain. The bullet had singed through her sleeveless shirt, revealing a bloody burn on her right shoulder.
“Nomad!” Rubio yelled, “are you alright?!”
“I’m fine!” Elizabeth seethed, punching herself in her thigh in both frustration and an effort to make the pain feel less. “I’ve had worse injuries before! Don’t worry about me, we need to get the hell out of here.”
“Shit, are we glad to see you,” Holt laughed. “Untie us and we can tend to the wound of yours.”
Elizabeth grimaced in pain, but fought through it, using her knife to untie the squad. “Where are our weapons?” She asked.
“In the cabinet right there,” Holt replied, gasping with relief as he was finally able to move his hands. “Never said the rebels were smart or anything.”
Elizabeth searched the body of the rebel she just killed and found a key in his pocket. She rushed over and unlocked the cabinet, allowing the squad to retrieve their weapons and ammunition. Elizabeth was relieved that her custom built rifle was there—she would be incredibly saddened if it went missing.
“Nomad,” Bowman said, “that wound looks pretty bad, we should probably tend to it right now.”
Elizabeth shook her head and clutched her wound. “We have maybe five minutes before we get swamped by rebels. Drones literally firebombed the base. Every rebel within ten miles will be heading here.”
“That explains the explosions,” Holt nodded. “Boss is right, we need to get the fuck out of here.”
The squad gathered what they could from their rooms in the bunker, taking personal effects and other important documents before hightailing it out of the bunker. Several of the rebel vehicles managed to survive the explosion, including a large van which lucky had the keys in the ignition, since the back was filled with supplies that the rebels were going to transport before being slaughtered. Rubio got into the driver’s seat and drove off into the jungle.
“Hold still Nomad,” Bowman stated, tightly grasping Elizabeth’s shoulder and wiping it down with antiseptic wipes. Necessary, yet very painful.
“Damn that really hurts,” Elizabeth hissed, clutching her seat so tightly that her knuckles turned white and colorless.
“We are so lucky you arrived,” Bowman smiled as she continued to wipe the wound down.
“What happened?” Elizabeth asked, her eyes closed and her face in a grimace.
“We got jumped,” Rubio confessed as he carefully navigated the jungle roads in front of him. “We were all watching a movie when the rebels barged in and took us captive. We were supposed to move on the Cartel at once, this is all so odd.”
“It has to,” Bowman agreed. “Let me try and call Katari. He can’t track us so it won’t hurt.”
“I’m going to kill him for this!” Elizabeth grunted, kicking the wall of the van with her left foot as Bowman bandaged the wound up.
“We will,” Bowman nodded, dialing her phone. Katari quickly picked up. “Katari, what the hell is going on?” Bowman asked angrily. “Your men attacked us and nearly killed Nomad here; she nearly took a bullet to the shoulder!”
“I apologize for that, there was no intention of hurting you Americans, but it had to be done. You see, we only meant to capture you. America has never been a friend to us, never. You Yanquis come and take what you want, destroying democratic regimes and propping up dictators at your leisure. America is an Imperialist power, one that will never be a friend to the developing world. How can Bolivia truly be free if we use you to help us take down the foreign invaders that threaten our people? We cannot. Do not take this personally, and I wish the best for you, but stay out of our business, or we will kill you ourselves. Consider that your warning. Stay far away Americans. Sueno is ours to kill.”
“Do not do this Katari,” Bowman pleaded. “We need Sueno alive. You can have the rest.”
“No!” Katari replied, his voice booming through the phone. “Sueno will be killed us for all the world to see what happens to the enemies of Bolivia. So long friend.”
“Katari…KATARI! FUCK!!” Bowman screamed, tossing her phone against the wall of the van. “Shit, this is bad, really fucking bad.”
“What are we supposed to do?” Elizabeth wondered as she finished bandaging her wound. It hurt, but it definitely was not serious at this moment.
“We need to find Sueno,” Bowman responded. “The Rebels kept mentioning the Mausoleum in Spanish, so I assume that Sueno is there.”
“The Mausoleum?” Holt inquired.
“Yeah, a massive work in the middle of Santa Cruz de la Sierra. It’s giant Greek style tomb built to honor El Sueno and is the unofficial Cartel base of operations. We need to get there and stat.”
“Why are the rebels moving now?” Holt asked once again.
“The child trafficking news,” Bowman frowned. “It leaked not long ago I assume. I wished someone had told me before they leaked so that I had time to gauge Katari. Damn, I am going to really rip into JSOC for this one."
"Maybe we should ask Griffin now," Elizabeth suggested. "He got me shot. Griffin!"
"Copy Nomad."
"Hey fuckface," Bowman hissed. "Why did you leak the information before telling us?"
"Pardon me Bowman, but what?"
"You didn't leak the information?" Elizabeth asked in a bit of surprise.
"Heavens no. Bolivia is going into chaos. Someone else must have. Meet my contact near Libertad and we will talk further then. I am observing the situation."
Over the next few hours, Bolivia descended into madness.
The news spread like wildfire throughout social media and the Bolivian people. Unidad cut support, and the government, in the face of International outrage, went to war against the Cartel. The Cartel was powerful and could easily go toe to toe with the military, but it was the turning of public opinion in the nation that really undid the Cartel’s base of support. Every single warlord with a group of soldiers descended, ready to carve up the nation into their own little private domains. The Cartel was the glue, and it fell apart. Most of their forces fell back to their main base in Santa Cruz, ready for the fight of their lives. El Sueno was certainly there, and if things got any more hairy, he would flee, but fleeing now would undo all he had ever dreamed of. Most importantly, however, he had billions in Mexican investor money and a giant private military. He could definitely win a battle.
As for the squad, they met up with a CIA agent with an airplane. They flew for a few hours towards the city of Santa Cruz.
In the city itself, Sueno paced around his office. It was oddly bare for a man of his wealth, but he had taken a vow of poverty. All he had was desk with a cheap lab-top, a phone, and a chair, nothing else. He ran a multi-billion dollar global enterprise from here.
“Jacob,” Sueno began, you need to leave the country.”
“What about the goods we were promised?”
“I will win this battle,” Sueno explained, “but I cannot guarantee your safety. The American team got away from the rebels, and they will certainly be here soon.”
“I told that Elizabeth was squirmy,” Jacob laughed. “Can’t keep her down for long.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Sueno shook his head. “The rebels will fall before our forces. I will deal with the Americans here.”
"I am just confused," Jacob said, scratching his beard and staring out the window, observing the city preparing for war. "Why leak the information early?"
"As soon as Ramon Feliz was captured, I knew that you Yanquis would leak and come for me," Sueno explained. "I will destroy my enemies here and I caught them off balance. Russia told me to do so, so I did. The rebels will be surprised to find Russian 'mercenaries' and weapons helping us. The rebels will be slaughtered and I will be rewarded handsomely for my efforts here."
"What about the Chinese rebels?"
"I will deal with them. China has special forces here in the country as well, but I assume that the Americans and Russians will deal with them as they fight each-other. Everyone will blame each-other when they meet in Moscow in a few days. The world will descend further into chaos."
“Alright friend,” Jacob smiled a bit warily. “This may be our last time seeing each-other. It has been an honor.”
“The honor is mine,” Sueno grinned, shaking Jacob’s hand. “The plan is not perfect, but keep executing it. The world must burn.”
“Yes it must,” Jacob agreed. “And it will. God will have his vengeance.”
It was right by a small creek, filled with the sounds of rushing water, the chirping of insects, and the smell of fresh plants. The jungle was truly alive and full of noise, but in this moment, Elizabeth was at peace. She sat on a fallen tree, took a deep breath, and turned her downwards towards the lush jungle floor before her. In just a few hours, the news would be leaked about the Cartel, and the Ghosts would be moved in to capture Sueno before he fled. The news would certainly cause a stir in the nation.
“God,” she began out-loud, gripping the log tightly with her right hand. “I need help. I just don’t know anymore. I’m good at this I know, but it feels so wrong. You know, Andrew needs me, poor William is hurting, Emily and Sarah probably want me back… God I’m failing them, yet this is my duty, my job, my calling. Help my family to stay strong right now, and let them know just how much I love them! Ever since I was a cadet this is what I wanted, and yet now that I’m basically at the peak of my career, I feel as if I’m disobeying you. Help me God! Please give me guidance on whether I should quit and join Keanu, or keep serving in the military, despite all the people that I am killing. I know they are bad people, rapists, murderers, terrorists, but am I turning the other cheek? Am I obeying you? If I’m not, Lord, please let me atone…”
It all came out like a stream of consciousness, with all of her desires being poured out almost at random. She was knelt over and practically in tears, crying out to her King for mercy and for wisdom. She was torn.
“Nomad!” Came a heavily Bolivian accented voice from behind her, interrupting her grief. Elizabeth was startled a little bit, and turned her head to see what was happening. There were two rebels standing next to each other.
“You scared me!” She scolded, gently clutching her heart.
“I apologize Yanqui,” one of the rebels replied, dressed in traditional Bolivian tribal wear mixed with captured military gear, “Bowman requests you in the camp.”
“Tell her I’m busy,” Elizabeth sighed, turning back towards the stream. “If she needs me, she can call me.”
“I apologize Nomad,” the other rebel hissed, racking the slide of his rifle back, “that was not, what do you say, a request.”
Elizabeth immediately knew that something was off. “Easy now, no need to threaten me,” she replied, waving her hands downward trying to defuse them. “I’ll go to her if its that important.”
“Your pistol Yanqui,” he said, reaching his hand out.
“Why do you need it?”
“Just give it to us please, Bowman wants you to be unarmed.”
She sighed but handed it over—they had the draw on her and resisting would not be easy. The rebels began to let them her back down the path, but she strategically positioned herself a step or two behind them. At first, she thought this was a method of them trying to rape her or something, but one of the rebels reached into his vest and pulled out a radio. He began speak in Quechua, a language that Elizabeth did not have a solid grasp of aside from a minor phrases that she learned during her briefings, but from what she did pick up, she deduced that the rebel was telling his commander that the American commander had been captured and that he was bringing her to the prison.
She stepped another step back and quickly reached down her leg and pulled out a rather large knife that she always had on hand. The rebel in front of her did not see anything coming: she brutally stabbed him in the neck from behind multiple times exceedingly quickly. She tossed his body to the side and tackled the other rebel before he could react, using her momentum to push him against a tree, disarming him in the process. The two struggled for a short time, but it became very clear that Elizabeth had the jump on him. She pushed her knife closer and closer to his chest, before finally using her other hand to hammer it right into his heart with a great shout, killing him almost instantly. The other rebel she had stabbed thrashed around violently, but quickly drowned in his own blood.
“Bowman!” She said into her earpiece as she picked her pistol off of the ground and wiped blood off of her hands. Nothing. “Midas? Holt? Weaver? Anyone?! Is anyone hearing me?!”
Nothing.
What is going on?!
“Griffin!” She asked, referring to Scott Mitchell, the head of the Ghosts. “Griffin? Do you hear me?!”
“How copy Nomad?”
She practically gasped with relief that at least someone out there was listening. “I was just jumped by two rebels. I killed them, but nobody else in the squad is responding. Do you know what the hell is going on down here?”
“Did I hear that right Nomad? You were attacked by rebels?”
“I was Griffin,” Elizabeth responded as she hid the two bodies in thick growth. “Nobody else is responding. I’m going to head back to the base and see what is going on.”
“Rodger that Nomad, stay safe and keep us updated. I’ll try and figure out what is occurring down there.”
Elizabeth feared the absolute worst, and her head began to ache with the possibility that her squad was dead. Rubio, her best friend aside from her husband of course, might have been killed. Andrea would be a widow with four young children…the thought made Elizabeth want to cry, but there was no time for that. She had to survive…for her husband and children. If her squad was dead, however, she would burn whoever killed them to the ground.
She slowly snuck back to the base and found a decent spot to overlook it. Most of the rebels were busy loading firearms and other weapons onto trucks—the rebels were clearly gearing for something big. While a good number of the rebel forces had already moved, there were around twenty or so still on the premises. The commander of this specific rebel battalion was screaming at some grunts in Quechua, and Elizabeth could barely make out that they had lost contact with two men who been sent to capture her. Damn it, they knew she was free. Everyone would undoubtedly be on high alert. A Ghost trapped in a corner was exceedingly dangerous, and they knew that.
I need to find out where my squad is, she thought, gripping her knife. While she did have a pistol, she only had twenty rounds available, and she did not want to waste any bullets. Any kill she made would be up close and personal with her knife.
She soon got her chance. A rebel soldier made the foolish decision to patrol alone, making his way close to where Elizabeth was laying, hidden amongst the thick jungle flora. She slowly inched her way towards him as silently as she knew how, then pounced, covering his mouth with her hand and placing her knife right against his throat. He tried to resist, but soon stopped when he realized that she had him pinned totally down.
“Look asshole,” she whispered in Spanish. “Tell me where my squad is or I will slit your fucking throat. Do you understand?” She gently lifted her hand from his mouth to let his speak.
“Yes yes. They are in the bunker and alive. Please let me go!”
“No can do,” Elizabeth frowned before snapping his neck. The death was painless and instantaneous, the least that the rebel deserved. She hid the body in the undergrowth and went back to her original spot to overlook the base.
Getting to the bunker would be incredibly difficult. Rebels were everywhere, moving about and hunting her down and while they were all armed with rifles, all she had was a pistol and a knife. There was no way she could take them all, and even if she managed to stealthy knife a number of them, the group would panic once they realized that several of them were dead and would call for reinforcements.
“Griffin,” Elizabeth whispered. “There are twenty rebels on site. I have solid intel that my squad and Bowman have been captured and are being held in the bunker. I’m going to need some support here.”
“Copy that Nomad, I have a CIA drone in the area that I can redirect to blow the camp. That should give you time to get in and free your squad.”
“Perfect.”
Elizabeth laid hidden in the jungle for a few minutes before Griffin gave her the signal. Moments later, a series of missiles hit the compound, killing many of the rebels and blowing up most of the ammunition caches that had been loaded onto a series of trucks, causing a ripple effect of explosions that killed even more rebels. Elizabeth sprung into action and sprinted into the camp before the rebels could regroup, effortlessly shooting the four survivors without even stopping or pausing to aim. Three rebels ran out of the bunker to figure out what was going on, but Elizabeth gunned them down in a succession of four shots right in their centers of mass. She made her down the concrete stairs of the bunker and recklessly kicked open the wooden door to where her squad was based. A rebel inside the room, however, was waiting for her, and managed to get the jump on her, firing a few bullets towards her. Most of them missed as he was untrained and scared, but one managed to graze her shoulder. She yelled in agony before emptying her magazine into him in a fit of rage.
“Fuck!” She roared as she tossed her pistol away from her, clenching her shoulder and biting her bottom lip in pain. The bullet had singed through her sleeveless shirt, revealing a bloody burn on her right shoulder.
“Nomad!” Rubio yelled, “are you alright?!”
“I’m fine!” Elizabeth seethed, punching herself in her thigh in both frustration and an effort to make the pain feel less. “I’ve had worse injuries before! Don’t worry about me, we need to get the hell out of here.”
“Shit, are we glad to see you,” Holt laughed. “Untie us and we can tend to the wound of yours.”
Elizabeth grimaced in pain, but fought through it, using her knife to untie the squad. “Where are our weapons?” She asked.
“In the cabinet right there,” Holt replied, gasping with relief as he was finally able to move his hands. “Never said the rebels were smart or anything.”
Elizabeth searched the body of the rebel she just killed and found a key in his pocket. She rushed over and unlocked the cabinet, allowing the squad to retrieve their weapons and ammunition. Elizabeth was relieved that her custom built rifle was there—she would be incredibly saddened if it went missing.
“Nomad,” Bowman said, “that wound looks pretty bad, we should probably tend to it right now.”
Elizabeth shook her head and clutched her wound. “We have maybe five minutes before we get swamped by rebels. Drones literally firebombed the base. Every rebel within ten miles will be heading here.”
“That explains the explosions,” Holt nodded. “Boss is right, we need to get the fuck out of here.”
The squad gathered what they could from their rooms in the bunker, taking personal effects and other important documents before hightailing it out of the bunker. Several of the rebel vehicles managed to survive the explosion, including a large van which lucky had the keys in the ignition, since the back was filled with supplies that the rebels were going to transport before being slaughtered. Rubio got into the driver’s seat and drove off into the jungle.
“Hold still Nomad,” Bowman stated, tightly grasping Elizabeth’s shoulder and wiping it down with antiseptic wipes. Necessary, yet very painful.
“Damn that really hurts,” Elizabeth hissed, clutching her seat so tightly that her knuckles turned white and colorless.
“We are so lucky you arrived,” Bowman smiled as she continued to wipe the wound down.
“What happened?” Elizabeth asked, her eyes closed and her face in a grimace.
“We got jumped,” Rubio confessed as he carefully navigated the jungle roads in front of him. “We were all watching a movie when the rebels barged in and took us captive. We were supposed to move on the Cartel at once, this is all so odd.”
“It has to,” Bowman agreed. “Let me try and call Katari. He can’t track us so it won’t hurt.”
“I’m going to kill him for this!” Elizabeth grunted, kicking the wall of the van with her left foot as Bowman bandaged the wound up.
“We will,” Bowman nodded, dialing her phone. Katari quickly picked up. “Katari, what the hell is going on?” Bowman asked angrily. “Your men attacked us and nearly killed Nomad here; she nearly took a bullet to the shoulder!”
“I apologize for that, there was no intention of hurting you Americans, but it had to be done. You see, we only meant to capture you. America has never been a friend to us, never. You Yanquis come and take what you want, destroying democratic regimes and propping up dictators at your leisure. America is an Imperialist power, one that will never be a friend to the developing world. How can Bolivia truly be free if we use you to help us take down the foreign invaders that threaten our people? We cannot. Do not take this personally, and I wish the best for you, but stay out of our business, or we will kill you ourselves. Consider that your warning. Stay far away Americans. Sueno is ours to kill.”
“Do not do this Katari,” Bowman pleaded. “We need Sueno alive. You can have the rest.”
“No!” Katari replied, his voice booming through the phone. “Sueno will be killed us for all the world to see what happens to the enemies of Bolivia. So long friend.”
“Katari…KATARI! FUCK!!” Bowman screamed, tossing her phone against the wall of the van. “Shit, this is bad, really fucking bad.”
“What are we supposed to do?” Elizabeth wondered as she finished bandaging her wound. It hurt, but it definitely was not serious at this moment.
“We need to find Sueno,” Bowman responded. “The Rebels kept mentioning the Mausoleum in Spanish, so I assume that Sueno is there.”
“The Mausoleum?” Holt inquired.
“Yeah, a massive work in the middle of Santa Cruz de la Sierra. It’s giant Greek style tomb built to honor El Sueno and is the unofficial Cartel base of operations. We need to get there and stat.”
“Why are the rebels moving now?” Holt asked once again.
“The child trafficking news,” Bowman frowned. “It leaked not long ago I assume. I wished someone had told me before they leaked so that I had time to gauge Katari. Damn, I am going to really rip into JSOC for this one."
"Maybe we should ask Griffin now," Elizabeth suggested. "He got me shot. Griffin!"
"Copy Nomad."
"Hey fuckface," Bowman hissed. "Why did you leak the information before telling us?"
"Pardon me Bowman, but what?"
"You didn't leak the information?" Elizabeth asked in a bit of surprise.
"Heavens no. Bolivia is going into chaos. Someone else must have. Meet my contact near Libertad and we will talk further then. I am observing the situation."
Over the next few hours, Bolivia descended into madness.
The news spread like wildfire throughout social media and the Bolivian people. Unidad cut support, and the government, in the face of International outrage, went to war against the Cartel. The Cartel was powerful and could easily go toe to toe with the military, but it was the turning of public opinion in the nation that really undid the Cartel’s base of support. Every single warlord with a group of soldiers descended, ready to carve up the nation into their own little private domains. The Cartel was the glue, and it fell apart. Most of their forces fell back to their main base in Santa Cruz, ready for the fight of their lives. El Sueno was certainly there, and if things got any more hairy, he would flee, but fleeing now would undo all he had ever dreamed of. Most importantly, however, he had billions in Mexican investor money and a giant private military. He could definitely win a battle.
As for the squad, they met up with a CIA agent with an airplane. They flew for a few hours towards the city of Santa Cruz.
In the city itself, Sueno paced around his office. It was oddly bare for a man of his wealth, but he had taken a vow of poverty. All he had was desk with a cheap lab-top, a phone, and a chair, nothing else. He ran a multi-billion dollar global enterprise from here.
“Jacob,” Sueno began, you need to leave the country.”
“What about the goods we were promised?”
“I will win this battle,” Sueno explained, “but I cannot guarantee your safety. The American team got away from the rebels, and they will certainly be here soon.”
“I told that Elizabeth was squirmy,” Jacob laughed. “Can’t keep her down for long.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Sueno shook his head. “The rebels will fall before our forces. I will deal with the Americans here.”
"I am just confused," Jacob said, scratching his beard and staring out the window, observing the city preparing for war. "Why leak the information early?"
"As soon as Ramon Feliz was captured, I knew that you Yanquis would leak and come for me," Sueno explained. "I will destroy my enemies here and I caught them off balance. Russia told me to do so, so I did. The rebels will be surprised to find Russian 'mercenaries' and weapons helping us. The rebels will be slaughtered and I will be rewarded handsomely for my efforts here."
"What about the Chinese rebels?"
"I will deal with them. China has special forces here in the country as well, but I assume that the Americans and Russians will deal with them as they fight each-other. Everyone will blame each-other when they meet in Moscow in a few days. The world will descend further into chaos."
“Alright friend,” Jacob smiled a bit warily. “This may be our last time seeing each-other. It has been an honor.”
“The honor is mine,” Sueno grinned, shaking Jacob’s hand. “The plan is not perfect, but keep executing it. The world must burn.”
“Yes it must,” Jacob agreed. “And it will. God will have his vengeance.”
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From the squad’s position on the banks of the Piray river across from the city of La Cruz de La Sierra, Elizabeth saw the chaos unfolding before her eyes. Many of the smaller towns and outer suburbs emanating from the city center were in flames, and distant mortal shells or rockets exploded in the distance, causing explosions of varying sizes and ferocity. The night sky was bright, filled with the light from rising fires and tracer rounds. Even the occasional airplane flew above the city, delivering ordinance or unleashing a storm of bullets from onboard guns. She was extremely glad that she was not down in that chaos. She did something similar in Fallujah, and that experience was not something she wanted to repeat.
Right on the edge of the river was the giant Mausoleum and office complex that served as the global headquarters of the Cartel. It was even larger and tackier than Elizabeth could have imagined, looking like a cheap yet massive copy of the Pantheon in Rome. Much of it was still under construction, but even in this state, the structure dominated the skyline of the city, which admittedly, was not very impressive. The Cartel controlled both banks of the river, making an attack from the city itself necessary, which is what the rebels ended up opting to do. Elizabeth knew that getting close to the facility without being spotted would be difficult at best, even with their advanced clothing and technology.
“Nomad,” Scott Mitchel began over the radio. “Our reports indicate the rebels have not been able to break the outer suburbs yet. El Sueno is still in the city, as we have not seen any traffic, air or road, leaving the outer ring.”
“That’s a relief,” Elizabeth agreed as she continued to survey the scene. “We have the mini-submarine on hand, I think that’s the best way into the city. I am not about to go through that shit down there.”
“I agree Nomad,” Scott Mitchell replied. “Just be very careful down there. We have it on good authority that there are both Chinese and Russian special forces teams down there coordinating with various factions. Stay frosty and get proof of them their if you can. The President would be very happy to hear it.”
“Rodger that Griffin, Nomad out.”
“Did I hear Chinese special forces?” Rubio inquired as Elizabeth motioned for the squad to gather around her.
Elizabeth nodded. “You did. There are very likely Russian agents working for the Cartel, and possibly Chinese working with some rebels, shits a clusterfuck down there. Plan is to use this mini-sub here to get to the outskirts of the Mausoleum, go through some sewage tunnels underneath the building, then fight our way to El Sueno from there. The moment we get in there, everyone is an enemy. Got it?”
“Sewage tunnels?” Weaver asked. “Really?”
“You see a better way?” Elizabeth quipped.
“Not really.”
“Good, anyone else?”
“Shit,” Holt interjected, “I don’t feel safe doing this. Normally we have briefings and everything with every possible scenario…”
“I would be lying if I wasn’t terrified,” Elizabeth admitted, “but we have a job to do, and that is to get this scumbag into our custody so that we can discover what the heck is going on with our country. The sooner Sueno is captured, the better.”
“Nomad?” Rubio piped up, “mind if I speak to you alone for a little bit before we begin?”
“I mean, why not Midas, squad, get the sub ready and near the water please.”
Rubio and Elizabeth strolled away from the submarine and out of earshot of the other members. Elizabeth didn’t know what to expect, but she did notice that Rubio looked a bit more wary than he usually did—something was most certainly bugging him one way or another. Once they reached a sufficient distance, hidden by some trees, Rubio gently placed his hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder.
“Liz,” Rubio started, turning off his radio, “tell me honestly, are you alright?”
Elizabeth saw the care and concern in his eyes. “I’m fine. Just a knick,” she proclaimed, rubbing her shoulder. “Once I get stateside, I’ll have this tended to. Might leave a scar, but that’s the business I guess.”
“Does it hurt?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I mean, I won’t say that it doesn’t, but I took some drugs earlier to dull the pain. I’ll be alright Rubio, I promise you that.”
“That’s a relief at least.”
“One thing Rubio,” Elizabeth sighed, looking at her old friend right in his eyes. “This will likely be my last mission.”
“So you decided to retire?”
“I did,” she confirmed, looking at the dirt beneath them. It was wet and muddy, just like most of the dirt in this part of Bolivia. “It’s been a joy being your commander for as long as I have. I’m going to nominate you to lead the squad once I get back. I mean, you are very qualified and all.”
Rubio hugged Elizabeth tenderly. “I appreciate it, but let’s capture this guy so we can go home and make this all a reality.”
“Not a bad plan Rubio, not a bad plan,” she replied honestly, walking back to the squad.
The squad set the small submarine into the water, let it descend slightly, then put their rebreathers on and took their positions on the sides of the sub, using the handles to keep a solid grip on it. Once everyone was ready, Holt began to accelerate the submarine down the river. The Pirai river was not particularly deep or anything, but it was polluted beyond belief, forcing Holt to pilot the sub very slowly for fear of hitting a rock or other submerged object. Elizabeth could not even see the bottom of the shallow river. All she was thinking about was hoping that her shoulder wound did not get infected by whatever monstrosities were lurking in this disgusting river. Above them, Cartel soldiers in boats were patrolling the river in case Rebels decided to attempt to ford, but they made no effort at looking downwards, keeping the squad nice and hidden.
As they neared the Mausoleum, Elizabeth noticed landmarks that she had noted when she was briefed on the operation. She directed Holt using hand signals to the right of the river and into a large sewage pipe. The submarine naturally ascended and soon lifted above the water a short distance into the sewage drain.
“Shit,” Holt gagged, holding his nose. “This really stinks.”
“Cartel guys are eating way too much beans,” Elizabeth remarked, placing her night vision goggles onto her eyes. “This is the way though. There should be a smaller outlet that should take us right into the facility.”
She led them deep into the sewage drain, taking multiple side routes and smaller tunnels. She was thankful that the Cartel had made the sewage lines massive so that she didn’t have to crawl through the muck and slime beneath her, which rose up to her shins. The sewage line was exceedingly dark, and if it were not for her night vision goggles, she would have not been able to see her hands mere inches from her face. Above her whenever they passed a drain or a manhole, she heard a cacophony of voices from Cartel soldiers.
“You sure we heading the right way?” Holt inquired, doing his best to avoid larger pieces of rubbish and human excrement. “This is really fucking disgusting down here, worse than even my shithole town in the Bayou.”
“This looks like it,” Elizabeth muttered a small ways further down the pipe, standing next to a ladder that led to a small manhole above them. “This should be the right one. We should exit out in a small garden in the facility. From there, we keep silent and grab our guy. Lock and load men.”
The squad nodded and loaded bullets into the chambers of their rifles. Elizabeth was the first up the ladder, and she slowly slide the manhole from the cover when she reached the top. As expected, the manhole opened to the edge of a massive and lush garden which was thankfully full of large bushes that did wonders in keeping her hidden. She examined the situation, and realization that there were very few guards or soldiers in this part of the facility, all of which were closer to the mausoleum: Elizabeth figured that most of them were in the suburbs fighting off the rebels. The rest of her squad followed her up and shut the manhole behind them.
From here, they knew what do. A Cartel soldier who happened to be walking by was effortlessly killed by Holt’s knife, who then hid the body in the bushes. The squad continued to sneak their way through the garden, easily killing any Cartel soldier who happened to be in their paths. The Mausoleum where Sueno was most likely hiding in grew ever closer as time went on.
Up close, it was even grander than Elizabeth had expected. Even though most of it was scaffolded off and under construction, she still had to lean her head uncomfortably back to get the true scale of the structure in her vision. It almost looked like a grander imitation of Saint Peter’s Basilica, except without the hundreds of years of history behind it, but she was impressed with the golden roof that even in the night, reflected the moon’s light magnificently. She wondered how gaudy it would look in the middle of the day.
She had little time to reflect, however. A group of heavily armed men in advanced tactical gear, not dressed too dissimilarly to her, walked out of the front doors speaking a language that Elizabeth did not expect to hear: Russian. She was fluent in the language, and was able to pick out most of their conversations. It became clear to her that they were from Spetznaz, the Russian version of the Navy Seals. Not quite as good, mind you, but still incredibly deadly. Aside from the two men who just left the Mausoleum, Spetznaz soldiers were positioned all over the scaffolding and on the roof. Getting through would be very difficult. Elizabeth motioned for Rubio to crawl over to her.
“Alexei!” One of the Spetznaz soldiers yelled exuberantly in Russian. “Fuck it is hot here. I want to go home.”
“It sure is my old friend,” Alexei responded, patting him on the shoulder. “Do you wonder when the Americans will be here? I have heard that they are dangerous”
“Not very likely,” the other agent shook his head and laughing. “They won’t get an opening. Our men are slaughtering the communists in the field. I doubt that even American seals can get through that.”
“You doubt them too harshly, Vadim” Alexei cautioned. “Sueno told us many times to be careful.”
“Careful?” Vadim chuckled. “A woman leads them. A woman. I am not scared of a woman. Only Americans could be so insane as to have a woman on a special forces team. I do not fear them.”
Elizabeth smirked knowingly under her Baklava as Rubio finally reached her. “Midas, that’s Speztnaz here,” she whispered.
“I figured,” he nodded. “What’s the play Boss?”
“There is way to sneak in,” Elizabeth noted, pointing out the snipers covering every possibly infiltration point. “We will have to fight in. I’ll have Weaver and Holt fight the snipers while you and I get in close and personal. You up for that?”
“I’m always up for that,” Rubio nodded. “Just give me the signal.”
“Squad,” Elizabeth began. “We are going in hot. Spetznaz is all over this place.”
“Spetznaz?” Weaver asked.
“Yep,” Elizabeth confirmed. “Holt and Weaver, mark the snipers and when you are done, tell me. Midas and I will get in close. We have one shot at this—we need to kill as many of them as we can in one go and get in as fast as we can.”
“Rodger that boss,” Holt replied.
Elizabeth slowly crawled to her position overlooking where Alexei and Vadim were standing. From here, they could easily mow them down then turn her attention to a squad that was on top of a scaffold not far from her. Holt and Weaver began to silently call out snipers to each-other, quickly marking their targets. Rubio also slowly made his way to an ideal position to cover Elizabeth.
“Ya’ll ready?” Elizabeth asked in a quiet whisper?
“All ready Boss.”
“When I start firing, I want everyone to open up. Keep it silent, and keep it quick.”
I am an angel of death. I am a harbinger of justice, and tonight, you will burn in the lake of fire. May God have mercy on my soul
Vadim and Alexi were mowed down before they could comprehend what was happening. Holt and Weaver began to snipe their targets, easily hitting them with precision. The entire Spetznaz unit around the Mausoleum were unaware of what was happening right before them due to the effectiveness of the Ghost Recon Unit’s prototype silencers, and were easily cut down where they stood. By the time any of them realized what was occurring, it had already happened. One seemed to catch on that something funky was occurring, but Elizabeth noticed this and shot him in the head, downing the agent in one shot. It was truly a testament to the skill and strict professionalism of Elizabeth’s squad that in just a few minutes of careful and accurate strikes, the entire Spetznaz unit guarding the entrance to the Mausoleum was utterly wiped out. Even Elizabeth was somewhat surprised that her plan had worked that well.
“Alright men,” she barked. “We have only a few minutes before they realize something is fishy, in and out, grab the fucker and head back the way we come. Andele!”
The team surged forward from their positions and practically sprinted into the giant structure. They knew they did not have a lot of time. The interior of the Mausoleum was quite ornate, with murals, stained glass windows, and an assortment of paintings covering the walls and the roof, but the real attraction was the giant sarcophagus in the middle which was still under construction. Elizabeth could not see what most of the art depicted, but the ones that she could were all of the Cartel’s exodus from Mexico to Bolivia—they viewed it almost like a religious pilgrimage of sorts. Holt shut the door behind him just in case they were jumped from the rear.
“You know,” came a deep voice from behind a giant sarcophagus. “I was expecting you to get close, perhaps to the front door, but you continue to surprise me Yanquis.” The man turned the corner, and it was obvious who it was: El Sueno. His face tatted, and his body built to a comical degree, the Cartel leader walked forward from his hiding spot and towards the squad.
“Put your hands where I can see them!” Elizabeth ordered. “Now!!”
“I would Senora Elizabeth,” he chuckled, “but unfortunately, my hands are full at the moment.” As she walked closer to her, he tossed something that he had been holding in his hands: it was Pac Katari’s head. It hit the ground with a great splat and rolled towards Elizabeth, leaving a nasty trail of blood in it’s wake.
“You have five seconds to get on your knees and interlock your fingers before I put a fucking bullet in your skull,” She hissed. “NOW!”
“As you wish Senora Elizabeth,” he said, complying with her orders and getting on his knees. “But I do have a proposition for you.”
“Save it for the judge asshole,” Elizabeth snarled loudly. “Midas, please arrest him. Bowman, we have Sueno, requesting immediate evac from the extraction point…”
“No, I really mean it,” Sueno replied, interrupting her. “It may mean your life.”
“Wh…” Elizabeth began before being cut off by the sound of explosions and intense gunfire occurring outside the Mausoleum. It was intense and furious. Holt sprinted to a stain glass window beside the large wooden doors that led into the structure and stared outside to see what was going on.
“Um Boss, shit, I think some other special forces are here with the rebels.”
“How?” Elizabeth asked loudly.
“They must have found a way through. These are not just any special forces,” Sueno smirked, “But Chinese ones. Thank you for weakening my defenses, because now you will die here as well, unless you listen to me.”
“Agh!” Elizabeth roared. “What the hell do you want?”
“There is an exit under the facility. You will have to fight a short distance to a small shed near us, but there are tunnels that lead out. From there, I can have Cartel men take us to where you want. I won’t resist. My men are ready to help us.”
“Why do you want to help?!” Elizabeth yelled.
“Because the Chinese want to put a Communist dictatorship in power. Communism means my head on a spike, and that is bad for business—I can’t have that. Russia wants to keep the status quo, but I think you Yanquis can do better by making me a true dictator of this land. Get me out and I will tell you all you want. I am sure that your President will repay the favor and help me take over. I promise to help the United States. You Yanquis are really fond of stuff like this, as you very well know.”
“I can’t promise you that,” Elizabeth responded truthfully, her rifle pointed right at Sueno’s head, “But I can get you out of here.”
“Good,” Sueno smiled. “May I call my men to battle?”
“Rubio,” Elizabeth began, “watch him. If makes a sudden move you don’t like kill him.”
“Gladly boss.”
Sueno slowly unlaced his fingers and stood to his feet. “I am many things, but I liar I am not Elizabeth. It is right for you to be wary of me, but think about it, the rebels want me dead, you don’t. I hedge my bets.” He reached into his pocket and slowly pulled out a phone and dialed some numbers. “Men, I am under siege here. The Americans are no longer enemies. Attack the Mausoleum and distract the rebels so that I can fight my way out.”
“Alright Squad, let’s kill some assholes.”
The Chinese and rebels soon began to surround the structure. Elizabeth heard men moving above them on the roof—it became apparent to her that a massive firefight was about to brew. Her squad took up positions around the room behind whatever cover they could find, and just in time as well, as several Chinese forced broke through the roof and began to rappel down towards the floor. Elizabeth aimed upwards towards the intricate murals on the roof and fired at the special forces agents descending from the roof, easily taking them out. One of Holt’s shots actually shot through a wire and caused a Chinese soldier to fall from the roof and to his death on the marble floor. A group of Chinese soldiers detonated an explosive and broke through the wall near to Holt and Rubio, but they swiftly reacted to this and started to gun them down.
The Mausoluem turned into what was basically a free for all, with Chinese forces breaking in al directions only to be slaughtered by the hidden squad. Elizabeth kept moving, never once in one spot for more than a second, using pillars and rubble to conceal herself and get the jump on any special forces that entered. It was a deadly game of cat and mouse. Elizabeth was in her element, and she played the game well.
She rounded a corner and gunned down two more Chinese soldiers when one of them got the jump on her from behind and drilled a shot right into her thigh. She yelped in agony as she fell to the ground, but not before mowing him down as she was falling. Another Chinese soldier found her and was about to end her when Sueno jumped from behind some rubble and snapped his neck, killing him in seconds. He grabbed the now dead Chinese man’s gun and crawled over to Elizabeth.
“Are you alright?”
“Fucking bastard got me!” She grimaced in utter agony, clenching her thigh, but managed to stumble to her feet. She was bleeding. “I’ll fight through it…fuck!”
“You are one tough Yanqui,” he laughed. “My men are close, keep fighting.”
“Will do.”
Elizabeth nodded, thankful that her baklava was hiding her painful grimaces and expressions. Every single step was agonizingly painful, but she kept going, slaughtering any Chinese agent in her path. They finally burst through the front door, but Sueno and Weaver were on-top of them and gunned the group that came in down. Moments later and to the squads relief, a group of Cartel militia from the suburbs broke through the rebel lines and drove a pick-up right to the front door of the Mausoleum. Several Cartel soldiers dismounted the vehicle and began to fire at the rebel and Chinese elements roaming about, and the machine gunner using the gun attacked to the back of the truck did an incredible job suppressing the enemy forces.
“Elizabeth!” Sueno yelled. “My men are here. Come on!”
Elizabeth followed the squad out, sprinting through her intense and agonizing pain. Using the last bit of her energy, she manage to sprint onto the truck and collapsed onto the back. The truck immediately took off and once again broke through the rebel detachment.
“Oh fuck!” Holt exclaimed. “Boss, are you alright?!”
“I’m alright,” she seethed, but it was clear that she wasn’t. Blood was streaming from her bullet wound and all over the back of the truck.
“Liz!” Rubio gasped, taking his shirt off and making a make-shift bandage around her thigh. “My God! Driver!! FUCKING MOVE!!!”
“Do not worry American,” Sueno said, frowning slightly at the situation unfolding him. “I have doctors nearby at the airport who will tend to her before your reinforcements come to take me away. I come willingly.”
“Midas,” Eliazbeth managed to squeak out. “Can you take off my Baklava and helmet and let my head feel some air?”
“Anything friend,” he said calmly, doing his best to calm himself. Sueno watched as Rubio took Elizabeth’s helmet off and yanked her Baklava off. Her face was drenched in sweat and she was obviously in pain, but she looked relieved to actually be able to feel a bit of air as the truck raced through the streets of Santa Cruz.
“Much better,” Elizabeth smiled as best as she could.
“How much longer to the hospital?!” Rubio barked, still tending to Elizabeth’s wound.
“Not much longer American.”
The truck raced through the war-torn streets of the city as fast as the driver was able to floor the pedal. The rebel forces had actually broken through many parts of the city, but had been mostly beaten back by Cartel forces, leaving their host shattered and routed. The entire attack was probably just a diversion so that the Chinese could get close to try and kill Sueno so that the Pac Katari could take over the pieces of Bolivia, but that plan was most certainly out of the question now. Elizabeth’s squad continued to tend to her as best as they could and managed to stop the flow of blood for the most part, but the 5.8x42mm round was still lodged in her thigh. It would take a doctor to take that thing out.
“Bowman!” Rubio said, surprising her since it was usually Elizabeth who called on her.
“What is it Midas?”
“We have Sueno, but Nomad has been shot. The Cartel is taking us to the airport. Requesting immediate evac and a medic to the location.”
“The Cartel is taking you?”
“No time to explain Bowman!” Rubio screamed. “Just get the fucking evac here!”
“I will have an evac plane arriving in half an hour. Keep Nomad safe until then.”
The airport was a short distance from the city and firmly under Cartel control. The truck was waved through the security at the front and into the airport proper. Elizabeth was administered painkillers and the foreign Cartel doctors actually did a phenomenal job removing the bullet from her thigh, all the more impressive since they were in a makeshift medical room. Elizabeth would live. That was the important part.
The American airplane landed thirty minutes later carrying a number of CIA agents and Navy Seals, but Sueno did not have to be compelled aboard. Elizabeth underwent further surgery as the plane flew back to Fort Bragg.
Right on the edge of the river was the giant Mausoleum and office complex that served as the global headquarters of the Cartel. It was even larger and tackier than Elizabeth could have imagined, looking like a cheap yet massive copy of the Pantheon in Rome. Much of it was still under construction, but even in this state, the structure dominated the skyline of the city, which admittedly, was not very impressive. The Cartel controlled both banks of the river, making an attack from the city itself necessary, which is what the rebels ended up opting to do. Elizabeth knew that getting close to the facility without being spotted would be difficult at best, even with their advanced clothing and technology.
“Nomad,” Scott Mitchel began over the radio. “Our reports indicate the rebels have not been able to break the outer suburbs yet. El Sueno is still in the city, as we have not seen any traffic, air or road, leaving the outer ring.”
“That’s a relief,” Elizabeth agreed as she continued to survey the scene. “We have the mini-submarine on hand, I think that’s the best way into the city. I am not about to go through that shit down there.”
“I agree Nomad,” Scott Mitchell replied. “Just be very careful down there. We have it on good authority that there are both Chinese and Russian special forces teams down there coordinating with various factions. Stay frosty and get proof of them their if you can. The President would be very happy to hear it.”
“Rodger that Griffin, Nomad out.”
“Did I hear Chinese special forces?” Rubio inquired as Elizabeth motioned for the squad to gather around her.
Elizabeth nodded. “You did. There are very likely Russian agents working for the Cartel, and possibly Chinese working with some rebels, shits a clusterfuck down there. Plan is to use this mini-sub here to get to the outskirts of the Mausoleum, go through some sewage tunnels underneath the building, then fight our way to El Sueno from there. The moment we get in there, everyone is an enemy. Got it?”
“Sewage tunnels?” Weaver asked. “Really?”
“You see a better way?” Elizabeth quipped.
“Not really.”
“Good, anyone else?”
“Shit,” Holt interjected, “I don’t feel safe doing this. Normally we have briefings and everything with every possible scenario…”
“I would be lying if I wasn’t terrified,” Elizabeth admitted, “but we have a job to do, and that is to get this scumbag into our custody so that we can discover what the heck is going on with our country. The sooner Sueno is captured, the better.”
“Nomad?” Rubio piped up, “mind if I speak to you alone for a little bit before we begin?”
“I mean, why not Midas, squad, get the sub ready and near the water please.”
Rubio and Elizabeth strolled away from the submarine and out of earshot of the other members. Elizabeth didn’t know what to expect, but she did notice that Rubio looked a bit more wary than he usually did—something was most certainly bugging him one way or another. Once they reached a sufficient distance, hidden by some trees, Rubio gently placed his hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder.
“Liz,” Rubio started, turning off his radio, “tell me honestly, are you alright?”
Elizabeth saw the care and concern in his eyes. “I’m fine. Just a knick,” she proclaimed, rubbing her shoulder. “Once I get stateside, I’ll have this tended to. Might leave a scar, but that’s the business I guess.”
“Does it hurt?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I mean, I won’t say that it doesn’t, but I took some drugs earlier to dull the pain. I’ll be alright Rubio, I promise you that.”
“That’s a relief at least.”
“One thing Rubio,” Elizabeth sighed, looking at her old friend right in his eyes. “This will likely be my last mission.”
“So you decided to retire?”
“I did,” she confirmed, looking at the dirt beneath them. It was wet and muddy, just like most of the dirt in this part of Bolivia. “It’s been a joy being your commander for as long as I have. I’m going to nominate you to lead the squad once I get back. I mean, you are very qualified and all.”
Rubio hugged Elizabeth tenderly. “I appreciate it, but let’s capture this guy so we can go home and make this all a reality.”
“Not a bad plan Rubio, not a bad plan,” she replied honestly, walking back to the squad.
The squad set the small submarine into the water, let it descend slightly, then put their rebreathers on and took their positions on the sides of the sub, using the handles to keep a solid grip on it. Once everyone was ready, Holt began to accelerate the submarine down the river. The Pirai river was not particularly deep or anything, but it was polluted beyond belief, forcing Holt to pilot the sub very slowly for fear of hitting a rock or other submerged object. Elizabeth could not even see the bottom of the shallow river. All she was thinking about was hoping that her shoulder wound did not get infected by whatever monstrosities were lurking in this disgusting river. Above them, Cartel soldiers in boats were patrolling the river in case Rebels decided to attempt to ford, but they made no effort at looking downwards, keeping the squad nice and hidden.
As they neared the Mausoleum, Elizabeth noticed landmarks that she had noted when she was briefed on the operation. She directed Holt using hand signals to the right of the river and into a large sewage pipe. The submarine naturally ascended and soon lifted above the water a short distance into the sewage drain.
“Shit,” Holt gagged, holding his nose. “This really stinks.”
“Cartel guys are eating way too much beans,” Elizabeth remarked, placing her night vision goggles onto her eyes. “This is the way though. There should be a smaller outlet that should take us right into the facility.”
She led them deep into the sewage drain, taking multiple side routes and smaller tunnels. She was thankful that the Cartel had made the sewage lines massive so that she didn’t have to crawl through the muck and slime beneath her, which rose up to her shins. The sewage line was exceedingly dark, and if it were not for her night vision goggles, she would have not been able to see her hands mere inches from her face. Above her whenever they passed a drain or a manhole, she heard a cacophony of voices from Cartel soldiers.
“You sure we heading the right way?” Holt inquired, doing his best to avoid larger pieces of rubbish and human excrement. “This is really fucking disgusting down here, worse than even my shithole town in the Bayou.”
“This looks like it,” Elizabeth muttered a small ways further down the pipe, standing next to a ladder that led to a small manhole above them. “This should be the right one. We should exit out in a small garden in the facility. From there, we keep silent and grab our guy. Lock and load men.”
The squad nodded and loaded bullets into the chambers of their rifles. Elizabeth was the first up the ladder, and she slowly slide the manhole from the cover when she reached the top. As expected, the manhole opened to the edge of a massive and lush garden which was thankfully full of large bushes that did wonders in keeping her hidden. She examined the situation, and realization that there were very few guards or soldiers in this part of the facility, all of which were closer to the mausoleum: Elizabeth figured that most of them were in the suburbs fighting off the rebels. The rest of her squad followed her up and shut the manhole behind them.
From here, they knew what do. A Cartel soldier who happened to be walking by was effortlessly killed by Holt’s knife, who then hid the body in the bushes. The squad continued to sneak their way through the garden, easily killing any Cartel soldier who happened to be in their paths. The Mausoleum where Sueno was most likely hiding in grew ever closer as time went on.
Up close, it was even grander than Elizabeth had expected. Even though most of it was scaffolded off and under construction, she still had to lean her head uncomfortably back to get the true scale of the structure in her vision. It almost looked like a grander imitation of Saint Peter’s Basilica, except without the hundreds of years of history behind it, but she was impressed with the golden roof that even in the night, reflected the moon’s light magnificently. She wondered how gaudy it would look in the middle of the day.
She had little time to reflect, however. A group of heavily armed men in advanced tactical gear, not dressed too dissimilarly to her, walked out of the front doors speaking a language that Elizabeth did not expect to hear: Russian. She was fluent in the language, and was able to pick out most of their conversations. It became clear to her that they were from Spetznaz, the Russian version of the Navy Seals. Not quite as good, mind you, but still incredibly deadly. Aside from the two men who just left the Mausoleum, Spetznaz soldiers were positioned all over the scaffolding and on the roof. Getting through would be very difficult. Elizabeth motioned for Rubio to crawl over to her.
“Alexei!” One of the Spetznaz soldiers yelled exuberantly in Russian. “Fuck it is hot here. I want to go home.”
“It sure is my old friend,” Alexei responded, patting him on the shoulder. “Do you wonder when the Americans will be here? I have heard that they are dangerous”
“Not very likely,” the other agent shook his head and laughing. “They won’t get an opening. Our men are slaughtering the communists in the field. I doubt that even American seals can get through that.”
“You doubt them too harshly, Vadim” Alexei cautioned. “Sueno told us many times to be careful.”
“Careful?” Vadim chuckled. “A woman leads them. A woman. I am not scared of a woman. Only Americans could be so insane as to have a woman on a special forces team. I do not fear them.”
Elizabeth smirked knowingly under her Baklava as Rubio finally reached her. “Midas, that’s Speztnaz here,” she whispered.
“I figured,” he nodded. “What’s the play Boss?”
“There is way to sneak in,” Elizabeth noted, pointing out the snipers covering every possibly infiltration point. “We will have to fight in. I’ll have Weaver and Holt fight the snipers while you and I get in close and personal. You up for that?”
“I’m always up for that,” Rubio nodded. “Just give me the signal.”
“Squad,” Elizabeth began. “We are going in hot. Spetznaz is all over this place.”
“Spetznaz?” Weaver asked.
“Yep,” Elizabeth confirmed. “Holt and Weaver, mark the snipers and when you are done, tell me. Midas and I will get in close. We have one shot at this—we need to kill as many of them as we can in one go and get in as fast as we can.”
“Rodger that boss,” Holt replied.
Elizabeth slowly crawled to her position overlooking where Alexei and Vadim were standing. From here, they could easily mow them down then turn her attention to a squad that was on top of a scaffold not far from her. Holt and Weaver began to silently call out snipers to each-other, quickly marking their targets. Rubio also slowly made his way to an ideal position to cover Elizabeth.
“Ya’ll ready?” Elizabeth asked in a quiet whisper?
“All ready Boss.”
“When I start firing, I want everyone to open up. Keep it silent, and keep it quick.”
I am an angel of death. I am a harbinger of justice, and tonight, you will burn in the lake of fire. May God have mercy on my soul
Vadim and Alexi were mowed down before they could comprehend what was happening. Holt and Weaver began to snipe their targets, easily hitting them with precision. The entire Spetznaz unit around the Mausoleum were unaware of what was happening right before them due to the effectiveness of the Ghost Recon Unit’s prototype silencers, and were easily cut down where they stood. By the time any of them realized what was occurring, it had already happened. One seemed to catch on that something funky was occurring, but Elizabeth noticed this and shot him in the head, downing the agent in one shot. It was truly a testament to the skill and strict professionalism of Elizabeth’s squad that in just a few minutes of careful and accurate strikes, the entire Spetznaz unit guarding the entrance to the Mausoleum was utterly wiped out. Even Elizabeth was somewhat surprised that her plan had worked that well.
“Alright men,” she barked. “We have only a few minutes before they realize something is fishy, in and out, grab the fucker and head back the way we come. Andele!”
The team surged forward from their positions and practically sprinted into the giant structure. They knew they did not have a lot of time. The interior of the Mausoleum was quite ornate, with murals, stained glass windows, and an assortment of paintings covering the walls and the roof, but the real attraction was the giant sarcophagus in the middle which was still under construction. Elizabeth could not see what most of the art depicted, but the ones that she could were all of the Cartel’s exodus from Mexico to Bolivia—they viewed it almost like a religious pilgrimage of sorts. Holt shut the door behind him just in case they were jumped from the rear.
“You know,” came a deep voice from behind a giant sarcophagus. “I was expecting you to get close, perhaps to the front door, but you continue to surprise me Yanquis.” The man turned the corner, and it was obvious who it was: El Sueno. His face tatted, and his body built to a comical degree, the Cartel leader walked forward from his hiding spot and towards the squad.
“Put your hands where I can see them!” Elizabeth ordered. “Now!!”
“I would Senora Elizabeth,” he chuckled, “but unfortunately, my hands are full at the moment.” As she walked closer to her, he tossed something that he had been holding in his hands: it was Pac Katari’s head. It hit the ground with a great splat and rolled towards Elizabeth, leaving a nasty trail of blood in it’s wake.
“You have five seconds to get on your knees and interlock your fingers before I put a fucking bullet in your skull,” She hissed. “NOW!”
“As you wish Senora Elizabeth,” he said, complying with her orders and getting on his knees. “But I do have a proposition for you.”
“Save it for the judge asshole,” Elizabeth snarled loudly. “Midas, please arrest him. Bowman, we have Sueno, requesting immediate evac from the extraction point…”
“No, I really mean it,” Sueno replied, interrupting her. “It may mean your life.”
“Wh…” Elizabeth began before being cut off by the sound of explosions and intense gunfire occurring outside the Mausoleum. It was intense and furious. Holt sprinted to a stain glass window beside the large wooden doors that led into the structure and stared outside to see what was going on.
“Um Boss, shit, I think some other special forces are here with the rebels.”
“How?” Elizabeth asked loudly.
“They must have found a way through. These are not just any special forces,” Sueno smirked, “But Chinese ones. Thank you for weakening my defenses, because now you will die here as well, unless you listen to me.”
“Agh!” Elizabeth roared. “What the hell do you want?”
“There is an exit under the facility. You will have to fight a short distance to a small shed near us, but there are tunnels that lead out. From there, I can have Cartel men take us to where you want. I won’t resist. My men are ready to help us.”
“Why do you want to help?!” Elizabeth yelled.
“Because the Chinese want to put a Communist dictatorship in power. Communism means my head on a spike, and that is bad for business—I can’t have that. Russia wants to keep the status quo, but I think you Yanquis can do better by making me a true dictator of this land. Get me out and I will tell you all you want. I am sure that your President will repay the favor and help me take over. I promise to help the United States. You Yanquis are really fond of stuff like this, as you very well know.”
“I can’t promise you that,” Elizabeth responded truthfully, her rifle pointed right at Sueno’s head, “But I can get you out of here.”
“Good,” Sueno smiled. “May I call my men to battle?”
“Rubio,” Elizabeth began, “watch him. If makes a sudden move you don’t like kill him.”
“Gladly boss.”
Sueno slowly unlaced his fingers and stood to his feet. “I am many things, but I liar I am not Elizabeth. It is right for you to be wary of me, but think about it, the rebels want me dead, you don’t. I hedge my bets.” He reached into his pocket and slowly pulled out a phone and dialed some numbers. “Men, I am under siege here. The Americans are no longer enemies. Attack the Mausoleum and distract the rebels so that I can fight my way out.”
“Alright Squad, let’s kill some assholes.”
The Chinese and rebels soon began to surround the structure. Elizabeth heard men moving above them on the roof—it became apparent to her that a massive firefight was about to brew. Her squad took up positions around the room behind whatever cover they could find, and just in time as well, as several Chinese forced broke through the roof and began to rappel down towards the floor. Elizabeth aimed upwards towards the intricate murals on the roof and fired at the special forces agents descending from the roof, easily taking them out. One of Holt’s shots actually shot through a wire and caused a Chinese soldier to fall from the roof and to his death on the marble floor. A group of Chinese soldiers detonated an explosive and broke through the wall near to Holt and Rubio, but they swiftly reacted to this and started to gun them down.
The Mausoluem turned into what was basically a free for all, with Chinese forces breaking in al directions only to be slaughtered by the hidden squad. Elizabeth kept moving, never once in one spot for more than a second, using pillars and rubble to conceal herself and get the jump on any special forces that entered. It was a deadly game of cat and mouse. Elizabeth was in her element, and she played the game well.
She rounded a corner and gunned down two more Chinese soldiers when one of them got the jump on her from behind and drilled a shot right into her thigh. She yelped in agony as she fell to the ground, but not before mowing him down as she was falling. Another Chinese soldier found her and was about to end her when Sueno jumped from behind some rubble and snapped his neck, killing him in seconds. He grabbed the now dead Chinese man’s gun and crawled over to Elizabeth.
“Are you alright?”
“Fucking bastard got me!” She grimaced in utter agony, clenching her thigh, but managed to stumble to her feet. She was bleeding. “I’ll fight through it…fuck!”
“You are one tough Yanqui,” he laughed. “My men are close, keep fighting.”
“Will do.”
Elizabeth nodded, thankful that her baklava was hiding her painful grimaces and expressions. Every single step was agonizingly painful, but she kept going, slaughtering any Chinese agent in her path. They finally burst through the front door, but Sueno and Weaver were on-top of them and gunned the group that came in down. Moments later and to the squads relief, a group of Cartel militia from the suburbs broke through the rebel lines and drove a pick-up right to the front door of the Mausoleum. Several Cartel soldiers dismounted the vehicle and began to fire at the rebel and Chinese elements roaming about, and the machine gunner using the gun attacked to the back of the truck did an incredible job suppressing the enemy forces.
“Elizabeth!” Sueno yelled. “My men are here. Come on!”
Elizabeth followed the squad out, sprinting through her intense and agonizing pain. Using the last bit of her energy, she manage to sprint onto the truck and collapsed onto the back. The truck immediately took off and once again broke through the rebel detachment.
“Oh fuck!” Holt exclaimed. “Boss, are you alright?!”
“I’m alright,” she seethed, but it was clear that she wasn’t. Blood was streaming from her bullet wound and all over the back of the truck.
“Liz!” Rubio gasped, taking his shirt off and making a make-shift bandage around her thigh. “My God! Driver!! FUCKING MOVE!!!”
“Do not worry American,” Sueno said, frowning slightly at the situation unfolding him. “I have doctors nearby at the airport who will tend to her before your reinforcements come to take me away. I come willingly.”
“Midas,” Eliazbeth managed to squeak out. “Can you take off my Baklava and helmet and let my head feel some air?”
“Anything friend,” he said calmly, doing his best to calm himself. Sueno watched as Rubio took Elizabeth’s helmet off and yanked her Baklava off. Her face was drenched in sweat and she was obviously in pain, but she looked relieved to actually be able to feel a bit of air as the truck raced through the streets of Santa Cruz.
“Much better,” Elizabeth smiled as best as she could.
“How much longer to the hospital?!” Rubio barked, still tending to Elizabeth’s wound.
“Not much longer American.”
The truck raced through the war-torn streets of the city as fast as the driver was able to floor the pedal. The rebel forces had actually broken through many parts of the city, but had been mostly beaten back by Cartel forces, leaving their host shattered and routed. The entire attack was probably just a diversion so that the Chinese could get close to try and kill Sueno so that the Pac Katari could take over the pieces of Bolivia, but that plan was most certainly out of the question now. Elizabeth’s squad continued to tend to her as best as they could and managed to stop the flow of blood for the most part, but the 5.8x42mm round was still lodged in her thigh. It would take a doctor to take that thing out.
“Bowman!” Rubio said, surprising her since it was usually Elizabeth who called on her.
“What is it Midas?”
“We have Sueno, but Nomad has been shot. The Cartel is taking us to the airport. Requesting immediate evac and a medic to the location.”
“The Cartel is taking you?”
“No time to explain Bowman!” Rubio screamed. “Just get the fucking evac here!”
“I will have an evac plane arriving in half an hour. Keep Nomad safe until then.”
The airport was a short distance from the city and firmly under Cartel control. The truck was waved through the security at the front and into the airport proper. Elizabeth was administered painkillers and the foreign Cartel doctors actually did a phenomenal job removing the bullet from her thigh, all the more impressive since they were in a makeshift medical room. Elizabeth would live. That was the important part.
The American airplane landed thirty minutes later carrying a number of CIA agents and Navy Seals, but Sueno did not have to be compelled aboard. Elizabeth underwent further surgery as the plane flew back to Fort Bragg.
So this ends phase one of my AAR! I wrote the Bolivia plot just to show everyone how good Elizabeth really is and to set the stage for larger conflicts and ripple effects that Sueno’s capture will cause. I really wrestled with Elizabeth getting shot or hurt in some capacity, but opted to go for it since I don’t want her to be invincible. I hope everyone is enjoying my story so far! Thank you all very much for reading and commenting. Phase Two is the largest chunk and will start when I get to writing the next chapter
It was a warm summer day back in Mar a Lago, but the President was here, over twenty thousand feet in the sky over Europe on his way to a massive international summit in the city of Moscow. The summit, which was supposed to be last week, was delayed a week due to the massive international flashpoint that was Bolivia. The North Korean nuclear test seemed like a distant and hollow memory at this point compared to the shitstorm that was kicked when the country descended into chaos. Evo Morales was executed by Communist rebels, and the whole country seemed to collapse in on itself, with every nation scrambling to protect their interests in the region. While the summit was supposed to be about North Korea, the major power players in the world would most likely focus on Bolivia. Great. Another time where every single word that came out of his mouth would be closely examined. No wonder this job seemed to age people. Making things worse, due to a rally that Trump was having, he was late—the event started yesterday. Things were incredibly acrimonious already.
“Mr. President,” came the voice of one his secretaries over his phone. “Gina Haspel would like to see you.”
“Send her in,” Trump commanded.
Trump almost preferred the office aboard Air Force One to the oval office. It was smaller and more compact, and felt far cozier. Most importantly, whenever he was going on an important trip of some sort, relevant cabinet members went with him—they were simply a small walk away, far easier than the time it took to drive to the White House. He could literally run the government from his lab-top in this tiny office aboard the plane.
“Mr. President,” Gina Haspel greeted as she entered the office. Unlike Trump, who had his suit jacket placed on the back of his chair, Gina was dressed to the nines.
“Please sit,” he remarked, pointing to a chair right in-front of his desk. “Please make yourself comfortable.”
“Certainly Mr. President,” she said, sitting down and smoothing the sides of her dress. “I’m here to talk about Operation Kingslayer.”
“Ah yes,” Trump nodded his head and leaned back in his seat. “The mission in Bolivia. Is the report finished?”
“Mostly,” Gina began. “I’ll give you a summary. The squad returned a few nights ago and have been undergoing health examinations. Major Chandler was shot in the thigh, but she will make a full recovery baring anything unforeseen.”
“Send her my regards.”
“I can arrange that,” Gina said. “Now on to the important stuff. When the squad was on the ground near Santa Cruz de La Sierra, the largest city in Bolivia, they came in contact with Russian and Chinese special forces. The squad has proof and our cartel allies delivered bodies. Our men at Fort Bragg are doing a full run through of what they brought back.”
“Hold on a second,” Trump interrupted, visibly confused. “Cartel allies?”
“It’s quite bizarre I must say so myself, but the Cartel helped to rescue the Ghost Recon Unit on the ground after they were surrounded by Chinese agents. El Sueno didn’t resist coming to our custody…he seems to want to make a deal with us of some sort.”
“Explain the Russian and Chinese agent business,” Trump asked in a bit of concern. “That is a far more concerning that I originally thought.”
“It is,” Gina agreed, nodding her head. “I was surprised when I first heard it myself. The Squad reported that Spetznaz units were guarding the facility where Sueno was hiding in. After the Ghosts dispatched them, they reported that the Chinese used rebels to break through the Cartel lines, then attacked the facility in full force. It appears as if the rebels are in bed with the Chinese on some sort of level.”
“Damn.”
“Yes sir,” Gina said. “Damn is right. We need to watch our time in Moscow very carefully. Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin are undoubtedly aware of what went down. We can use it as leverage to keep them silent, but they have plots of their own for sure.”
“What about Sueno? Why did he join us? That does not make sense to me.”
“He is at Fort Bragg as we speak. I think we should put the interrogation unit on the screens if you want to talk with them.”
“Yes, that is a great idea,” Trump acknowledged, reaching over his desk and pressing a button to reach his secretary. “Could you put the Fort Bragg Ghost Recon unit on the screen? I want to talk with whoever is interrogating El Sueno. I need to know what he knows and where the weapons that are being shipped into the United States are going”
“Yes Mr. President,” the secretary affirmed. A flat screen television embedded in a wooden cabinet on the far side of the office flashed to life. El Sueno was tied to a chair in the center of a bare concrete room, and a middle aged woman was standing over him, clearly in the middle of some sort of interrogation. She was yelling at him, but El Sueno was not responding in any form or fashion—not even saying a word. The interrogator was clearly frustrated and more than a bit flustered.
“Bowman,” Gina Haspel said with authority. “The President is here.”
“Finally,” El Sueno sighed with relief. “I can actually speak with the big bad jefe. Pleasure to meet you President. I would shake your hands, but they are all tied upon behind me at the moment.”
“Shut the fuck up asshole,” Bowman hissed. “Sorry Mr. President. I’ve done my best to beat information from this guy, but he won’t budge. Motherfucker wouldn’t even crack to a waterboarding session with pure gasoline. Man’s a tank.”
“What do you want Sueno?” Gina asked.
“My father always told me to never to, how do you Yanquis say it…beat around the bush? Yes. I will be forthcoming with you. I want Bolivia. I want to be the President.”
“Excuse me?” Trump interjected. “Did I hear that right?”
“You did,” Sueno replied in affirmation. “You heard it correctly. I want what you want, that is a peaceful world. I can support your interests, but you need to support mine. Give me Bolivia, and I will give you what you want…informacion.”
Trump was flabbergasted. “You aren’t really in a position to be demanding anything Sueno.”
“You are right on that point, but China backs the rebels and Russia backs my Cartel at the moment. Both sides are playing the game, and one will win the country as a puppet. Would you really risk having Bolivia, a nation so close to yours and with that much coca, turning over to an enemy? Or would you rather have an ‘ally’ in control who will serve your interests? Surely, you have not forgotten all of the people you have overthrown to serve yourselves. What is one more nation? Do you want to be known as the President who let China into your backyard?”
Trump mulled it over for a short while—the Cartel boss made a good point. “Is that why you helped our agents on the ground?”
“Yes, and I respect them. Senora Elizabeth is a truly skilled warrior and I grew to respect her in a sort of way.”
“How did you learn her name?” Gina asked angrily. “We were surprised.”
“As I said before, I will talk when you give me what I want. My Cartel is ready to right, and all I need is some air support and weapons to really drive the rebels back into the shadows. It’s either me or China, take your pick Jefe.”
“I can’t just give it to you,” Trump replied, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms at his chest. “Give me something, and I’ll give you something.”
“Ah,” Sueno said, smirking ever so slightly. “A negociacion, I like it. Here is what I will do for you Mr. Trump. Send my Cartel a package of weapons and ammunition, and I will give you a nugget of information. Consider this to be a sort of signing bonus, or a test of good faith for both of us. Does this sound alright to you President?”
Trump turned to Gina Haspel for a brief second, and she gave a small nod. “Sounds alright to me. I’ll have America send the Cartel a shipment of weapons and arms, on the condition that you give me information right here and now. Bowman, please untie him as a gesture of goodwill.”
“Sir?”
“Just do it,” Gina snapped.
“Fair enough,” Bowman sighed, untying the Cartel leader.
“That’s better,” Sueno smiled with relief as he stood up and stretched his arms above his head. “I nearly forgot what that felt like.”
“Out with it Sueno,” Haspel groaned.
“Right right. I am no liar, and as a gesture of goodwill, I will answer your first question and I will give you a piece of advice. I figured out who Elizabeth was from an American contact of mine that the Cartel is working with. I smuggle to many people, but he wanted many guns, large shipments of steel, and heavy weapons. He claimed to know Elizabeth, and called her by her maiden name of Davis. He seemed to know her quite well from somewhere, but he never elaborated on that point.”
“What his name?” Trump asked.
“He only told me his name, that being Jacob. In this line of work, you learn to never leave more paper trails than you must. Before you ask, no, I do not know where he is. I only used my border runners to meet them in Arizona, where then they dispersed wherever they went. Rest assured, that this is no Islamic terrorist cell. A bunch of normal Yanquis really.”
“Why did they want the weapons?” Gina began.
“That is for another day,” Sueno shook his head.
“Fair enough,” Trump acknowledged. “Gina, please use this information to dig what you can. Now what was that piece of advice you wanted to give me?”
“Ah, yes,” Sueno said, walking ominously around the room yet always staring at the camera. “Let me tell you this. You do not want to go to Moscow. I suggest you turn this plane around and go back to America.”
“Pardon me?” Trump said, clapping his hands together.
“I am not joking,” Sueno answered with urgency. “There is a high possibility that Moscow will not end well. Many people will die. If you want to live, please turn the plane around and go home. I am not a liar, that I swear.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I say this truthfully. Turn the plane around.”
Trump stared at Sueno through the screen and looked directly at Sueno’s face. “I don’t think he is lying. Haspel, please leave the office and tell the pilot to turn around. Blast the message to all of our allies.”
“It is too late for them already,” Sueno lamented. “It is too late.”
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The massive event once again burst into a furry of shouts and exclamations, caused by the delegation of the People’s Republic of China accusing the Russian delegation of causing the flashpoint in Bolivia and aiding the murderous government that was oppressing the people. People started shouting over one another, and once again, things devolved into madness.
“Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” Vladimir Putin yelled, loudly banging a gavel on the podium he was standing at. “How we are supposed to solve this crisis if we simply shout at one another? This cannot go on!” The event hall slowly murmured to a tense silence.
Xi Jinping was not impressed. He stood up from his seat and glared at the Russian President. “Maybe you should stop sowing chaos in the world!” He roared in Chinese. Once again the event hall burst. It was clear that tensions were frayed and nerves were at their breaking point.
The entire first day was like this, and the hall could not agree on anything, not even a symbolic decree asking for peace in the region. One side would give proof that the other side was meddling, then the other side would deny it and so on and so forth. Nothing was getting done, and people were ready to walk. The United States delegation, however, remained oddly quiet. Trump was not in attendance yet, as a rally kept him a day or so late. Vladimir Putin was very well aware of what had transpired in Bolivia not long ago and that Sueno had been captured by the United States. Why were they being so quiet? It made no sense to him.
He tried to call the hall to order, but it was no use and people started to walk. He sighed and went back to his delegation when a few members of his team urgently walked towards him. “Sir, Air Force One has turned around.”
“Excuse me?” Putin asked in a fit of confusion. “What?”
“They turned around sir.”
The delegations from the NATO countries, all practically at the same time, looked at one another with fear and stood up from their seats to get out of the hall. Something was happening. Before Vladimir could ask any further questions, he felt a rumble in his chest that got ever closer. Within moments, the Event Hall was bathed in Nuclear Fire that turned everyone in it directly to ash.
“Mr. President,” came the voice of one his secretaries over his phone. “Gina Haspel would like to see you.”
“Send her in,” Trump commanded.
Trump almost preferred the office aboard Air Force One to the oval office. It was smaller and more compact, and felt far cozier. Most importantly, whenever he was going on an important trip of some sort, relevant cabinet members went with him—they were simply a small walk away, far easier than the time it took to drive to the White House. He could literally run the government from his lab-top in this tiny office aboard the plane.
“Mr. President,” Gina Haspel greeted as she entered the office. Unlike Trump, who had his suit jacket placed on the back of his chair, Gina was dressed to the nines.
“Please sit,” he remarked, pointing to a chair right in-front of his desk. “Please make yourself comfortable.”
“Certainly Mr. President,” she said, sitting down and smoothing the sides of her dress. “I’m here to talk about Operation Kingslayer.”
“Ah yes,” Trump nodded his head and leaned back in his seat. “The mission in Bolivia. Is the report finished?”
“Mostly,” Gina began. “I’ll give you a summary. The squad returned a few nights ago and have been undergoing health examinations. Major Chandler was shot in the thigh, but she will make a full recovery baring anything unforeseen.”
“Send her my regards.”
“I can arrange that,” Gina said. “Now on to the important stuff. When the squad was on the ground near Santa Cruz de La Sierra, the largest city in Bolivia, they came in contact with Russian and Chinese special forces. The squad has proof and our cartel allies delivered bodies. Our men at Fort Bragg are doing a full run through of what they brought back.”
“Hold on a second,” Trump interrupted, visibly confused. “Cartel allies?”
“It’s quite bizarre I must say so myself, but the Cartel helped to rescue the Ghost Recon Unit on the ground after they were surrounded by Chinese agents. El Sueno didn’t resist coming to our custody…he seems to want to make a deal with us of some sort.”
“Explain the Russian and Chinese agent business,” Trump asked in a bit of concern. “That is a far more concerning that I originally thought.”
“It is,” Gina agreed, nodding her head. “I was surprised when I first heard it myself. The Squad reported that Spetznaz units were guarding the facility where Sueno was hiding in. After the Ghosts dispatched them, they reported that the Chinese used rebels to break through the Cartel lines, then attacked the facility in full force. It appears as if the rebels are in bed with the Chinese on some sort of level.”
“Damn.”
“Yes sir,” Gina said. “Damn is right. We need to watch our time in Moscow very carefully. Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin are undoubtedly aware of what went down. We can use it as leverage to keep them silent, but they have plots of their own for sure.”
“What about Sueno? Why did he join us? That does not make sense to me.”
“He is at Fort Bragg as we speak. I think we should put the interrogation unit on the screens if you want to talk with them.”
“Yes, that is a great idea,” Trump acknowledged, reaching over his desk and pressing a button to reach his secretary. “Could you put the Fort Bragg Ghost Recon unit on the screen? I want to talk with whoever is interrogating El Sueno. I need to know what he knows and where the weapons that are being shipped into the United States are going”
“Yes Mr. President,” the secretary affirmed. A flat screen television embedded in a wooden cabinet on the far side of the office flashed to life. El Sueno was tied to a chair in the center of a bare concrete room, and a middle aged woman was standing over him, clearly in the middle of some sort of interrogation. She was yelling at him, but El Sueno was not responding in any form or fashion—not even saying a word. The interrogator was clearly frustrated and more than a bit flustered.
“Bowman,” Gina Haspel said with authority. “The President is here.”
“Finally,” El Sueno sighed with relief. “I can actually speak with the big bad jefe. Pleasure to meet you President. I would shake your hands, but they are all tied upon behind me at the moment.”
“Shut the fuck up asshole,” Bowman hissed. “Sorry Mr. President. I’ve done my best to beat information from this guy, but he won’t budge. Motherfucker wouldn’t even crack to a waterboarding session with pure gasoline. Man’s a tank.”
“What do you want Sueno?” Gina asked.
“My father always told me to never to, how do you Yanquis say it…beat around the bush? Yes. I will be forthcoming with you. I want Bolivia. I want to be the President.”
“Excuse me?” Trump interjected. “Did I hear that right?”
“You did,” Sueno replied in affirmation. “You heard it correctly. I want what you want, that is a peaceful world. I can support your interests, but you need to support mine. Give me Bolivia, and I will give you what you want…informacion.”
Trump was flabbergasted. “You aren’t really in a position to be demanding anything Sueno.”
“You are right on that point, but China backs the rebels and Russia backs my Cartel at the moment. Both sides are playing the game, and one will win the country as a puppet. Would you really risk having Bolivia, a nation so close to yours and with that much coca, turning over to an enemy? Or would you rather have an ‘ally’ in control who will serve your interests? Surely, you have not forgotten all of the people you have overthrown to serve yourselves. What is one more nation? Do you want to be known as the President who let China into your backyard?”
Trump mulled it over for a short while—the Cartel boss made a good point. “Is that why you helped our agents on the ground?”
“Yes, and I respect them. Senora Elizabeth is a truly skilled warrior and I grew to respect her in a sort of way.”
“How did you learn her name?” Gina asked angrily. “We were surprised.”
“As I said before, I will talk when you give me what I want. My Cartel is ready to right, and all I need is some air support and weapons to really drive the rebels back into the shadows. It’s either me or China, take your pick Jefe.”
“I can’t just give it to you,” Trump replied, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms at his chest. “Give me something, and I’ll give you something.”
“Ah,” Sueno said, smirking ever so slightly. “A negociacion, I like it. Here is what I will do for you Mr. Trump. Send my Cartel a package of weapons and ammunition, and I will give you a nugget of information. Consider this to be a sort of signing bonus, or a test of good faith for both of us. Does this sound alright to you President?”
Trump turned to Gina Haspel for a brief second, and she gave a small nod. “Sounds alright to me. I’ll have America send the Cartel a shipment of weapons and arms, on the condition that you give me information right here and now. Bowman, please untie him as a gesture of goodwill.”
“Sir?”
“Just do it,” Gina snapped.
“Fair enough,” Bowman sighed, untying the Cartel leader.
“That’s better,” Sueno smiled with relief as he stood up and stretched his arms above his head. “I nearly forgot what that felt like.”
“Out with it Sueno,” Haspel groaned.
“Right right. I am no liar, and as a gesture of goodwill, I will answer your first question and I will give you a piece of advice. I figured out who Elizabeth was from an American contact of mine that the Cartel is working with. I smuggle to many people, but he wanted many guns, large shipments of steel, and heavy weapons. He claimed to know Elizabeth, and called her by her maiden name of Davis. He seemed to know her quite well from somewhere, but he never elaborated on that point.”
“What his name?” Trump asked.
“He only told me his name, that being Jacob. In this line of work, you learn to never leave more paper trails than you must. Before you ask, no, I do not know where he is. I only used my border runners to meet them in Arizona, where then they dispersed wherever they went. Rest assured, that this is no Islamic terrorist cell. A bunch of normal Yanquis really.”
“Why did they want the weapons?” Gina began.
“That is for another day,” Sueno shook his head.
“Fair enough,” Trump acknowledged. “Gina, please use this information to dig what you can. Now what was that piece of advice you wanted to give me?”
“Ah, yes,” Sueno said, walking ominously around the room yet always staring at the camera. “Let me tell you this. You do not want to go to Moscow. I suggest you turn this plane around and go back to America.”
“Pardon me?” Trump said, clapping his hands together.
“I am not joking,” Sueno answered with urgency. “There is a high possibility that Moscow will not end well. Many people will die. If you want to live, please turn the plane around and go home. I am not a liar, that I swear.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I say this truthfully. Turn the plane around.”
Trump stared at Sueno through the screen and looked directly at Sueno’s face. “I don’t think he is lying. Haspel, please leave the office and tell the pilot to turn around. Blast the message to all of our allies.”
“It is too late for them already,” Sueno lamented. “It is too late.”
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The massive event once again burst into a furry of shouts and exclamations, caused by the delegation of the People’s Republic of China accusing the Russian delegation of causing the flashpoint in Bolivia and aiding the murderous government that was oppressing the people. People started shouting over one another, and once again, things devolved into madness.
“Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” Vladimir Putin yelled, loudly banging a gavel on the podium he was standing at. “How we are supposed to solve this crisis if we simply shout at one another? This cannot go on!” The event hall slowly murmured to a tense silence.
Xi Jinping was not impressed. He stood up from his seat and glared at the Russian President. “Maybe you should stop sowing chaos in the world!” He roared in Chinese. Once again the event hall burst. It was clear that tensions were frayed and nerves were at their breaking point.
The entire first day was like this, and the hall could not agree on anything, not even a symbolic decree asking for peace in the region. One side would give proof that the other side was meddling, then the other side would deny it and so on and so forth. Nothing was getting done, and people were ready to walk. The United States delegation, however, remained oddly quiet. Trump was not in attendance yet, as a rally kept him a day or so late. Vladimir Putin was very well aware of what had transpired in Bolivia not long ago and that Sueno had been captured by the United States. Why were they being so quiet? It made no sense to him.
He tried to call the hall to order, but it was no use and people started to walk. He sighed and went back to his delegation when a few members of his team urgently walked towards him. “Sir, Air Force One has turned around.”
“Excuse me?” Putin asked in a fit of confusion. “What?”
“They turned around sir.”
The delegations from the NATO countries, all practically at the same time, looked at one another with fear and stood up from their seats to get out of the hall. Something was happening. Before Vladimir could ask any further questions, he felt a rumble in his chest that got ever closer. Within moments, the Event Hall was bathed in Nuclear Fire that turned everyone in it directly to ash.
Andrew Chandler stared at his computer intensely as he thoroughly scanned the product dimensions that had been sent to him. The files were fairly intricate, going into every little part and piece that a new proto-type missile would need in order to function. Every single piece, down to the smallest nail, was accounted for and individually rendered—when dealing with missiles, every little thing counted and was important for operation success. Andrew scanned through everything: it was like he requested, with minor changes to the missile, a new and innovative design that his team had been assigned to model and design with longer range and an ability to carry even smaller yet more powerful payloads. It was a massive contract that Lockheed Martin was more than willing to fulfil.
Something was gnawing at him, however. Andrew was a lifelong fan of space exploration and aerodynamics, which is why he got his degree in Aeronautical Engineering from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, which was located not far from where he grew up. He normally loved his job, but today, his mind was wandering. He could not focus on the work in front him. Taking a deep a long breath, he turned his head and picked up a photo that he kept at his desk of the day that he and Elizabeth said their marriage vows to one another. While Andrew swore that she only kept getting more and more attractive as she aged, she looked truly spectacular in her wedding dress. It was a magical day that he could never forget. Even if he went blind, he could probably paint the images right onto a canvas. The memory was that vivid and that real for him. He was never really religious, but she insisted on a church wedding, so he relented…it was her wedding, not his, after all.
He chuckled as he remembered how they met, on a blind date set up by their friends. He almost had to be forced into it, and he never expected to meet anyone he was attracted to, yet alone would get along with. To his surprise, he met the woman of his dreams on that day; they went to get pizza at a local restaurant and ended up staying with another for the entire day. It was love at first sight. After less than a year of dating, he proposed to her and that was that. People begged them to slow it down, but they took a risk. He was a young engineer and she was a military officer. Early in their marriage, Elizabeth kept asking him to go to church with her, but he always refused, saying that he liked sleeping in instead. He never really had a history with religion: his parents were nominally Lutheran and they went once or twice a year, but he was never involved or anything. Elizabeth was the total opposite, and was almost always had her church for some sort of event. She went to Bible studies, choir practices, evening communion services, outreach events, and all sorts of church activities. She always invited her to everything but he rebuffed her at every turn. Despite these apparent personality differences, Elizabeth quickly got pregnant with their first child and Andrew was happier than he had ever been.
Unfortunately, things took a dark turn. On a routine commute back from her office in the later stages of her pregnancy, she got into a car accident with a drunk driver. She barely survived. The doctors told her that if she continued carrying her child, she would most likely die and they begged her to abort her son. Andrew pleaded with her. Begged her. He was madly in love and young with little savings. There was no way he could reasonably care for a child by himself: he refused to entertain it. Elizabeth refused. He was flabbergasted, but she maintained time and time again that she had lived her life and that if she was to die, then that was God’s plan for her. She continued to say, time and time again, that her child was a gift, and that he deserved to live his life. Andrew could not comprehend such madness, but his constant and agonizing pleas did not convince her to change her course. Even threatening to leave her did nothing. Elizabeth turned deeper and deeper into her faith, and a revolving cast of church members continued to visit her day in and day out. One Sunday, the Pastor even came after the sermon to give her a brief sermon of his own. He never understood that culture, but did nothing to stop them. All he knew was that women from the church would always be over to make him a meal and keep their house in order.
His agony turned to joy when his wife gave birth to their son William Chandler after a long and perilous c-section. Their son was healthy despite all the trauma that he undoubtedly endured in the womb, and despite all the predictions that the doctors gave, Elizabeth survived. She remained in the hospital for weeks, but she survived. With tears in his eyes, he prayed for the first time in years and thanked God for keeping his wife alive and safe. He gave his life to Christ that night and was baptized in front of the entire congregation soon after Elizabeth was discharged from the hospital. His wife had changed him. Her conviction in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary shocked him, but ultimately, saved him. While they certainly had a happy marriage before his conversion, it took a different flavor afterwards, one where he was finally able to understand her on a deeper and more personal level. They were inseparable afterwards. He stopped drinking almost entirely and his secret pornography addiction disappear almost instantly.
Over the next few years, Elizabeth continued to get promoted and was being deployed more and more often. Despite this, they ended up having two more children. Elizabeth wanted more, but her work was getting in the way of that. In her late twenties and early thirties, she was deployed almost constantly, only spending weeks at a time at home. Andrew never understood what she did or why she was gone so often, but always trusted God’s plan. It wasn’t like he asked: he did so often, but she refused to tell him. It was classified she said.
Looking back on the last ten years of his life, Andrew missed her more than ever. He sighed longingly and struggled to get back to work. As he daydreamed about her, his office phone began to ring. He almost missed it, but was jolted back to reality by a co-worker.
“Andy,” the man who sat next to him began. “Your phone’s ringing.”
“Right right,” Andrew stammered. “I was daydreaming,” he replied, picking the phone. “Andrew Chandler, Lockheed Martin. Speaking?”
“This is Andrew Chandler, husband of Elizabeth Davis Chandler correct?”
“Yes?” Andrew said warily. “Who is speaking?”
“This is Womack Army Medical Center. I’m a doctor here, and I just wanted to inform you that your wife is in the hospital right now nursing two bullet…”
“What?!” Andrew yelled far louder than he realized he did. Previously busy coworkers stopped what they were doing to find out what was going on.
“She is fine and got back two days ago, but we just wanted to let you know that are free to visit her now if you wish…”
“I’ll be there soon,” Andrew gasped, hanging up the phone and frantically getting his stuff together at his desk. Everything was a mess, but he could clean that up any day really.
“You alright Andy?” His coworker asked.
“Yes… I mean no,” Andrew answered, packing his stuff. “My wife is in the hospital.”
“If you need to go Andy, just go. We can handle it here.”
“Thanks man,” Andrew said without looking at the worker sitting next to him. He left his office and practically sprinted out the front door and into his sleek and black Lexus sedan. He was thankful that he worked on Fort Bragg itself, so the drive there was mercifully short, but even then, he sped as fast as he could without being pulled over down Longstreet Road and into the large parking lots next to the Medical Center. He rushed into the emergency room area, asked where Elizabeth was, and frantically ran up a few flights of stairs to the room where she being rehabilitated at.
He finally found the room and to his relief, there were no doctors inside and the door was propped open slightly for him to enter. She was laying on the bed watching some sort of news broadcast on the screen, and she looked grimed face like something was bothering her. Elizabeth noticed that someone entered, so she turned her head and smiled when she realized it was her husband. Andrew turned and briefly saw that she was watching: a news report about the nuking of Moscow that occurred a week ago. It was the biggest news story of the decade, perhaps ever.
“Andrew!” She squealed with delight, smiling from ear to ear.
“I’m here dear,” Andrew said tenderly as he sat on a small stool next to her and gently brought her hand to his lips. “Are you alright?”
“You know, I’ve been better,” she replied truthfully. She scrunched up her hospital gown’s sleeve to reveal the nasty burned scar that had been left on her shoulder. “Got hit here, and on the back of my right thigh, you can see it, I mean, you are my husband after all, you know what it looks like.”
That answer did not satisfy him in the slightest. “Dear, what happened?”
“Oh Andrew,” she lamented, taking a despairing sigh. “I wish I could tell you.”
“Did you hear what happened in Moscow?” Andrew sighed, changing the subject and referring to the subject of the current news broadcast. “Millions are dead. Heads of state were killed, dear, things are only going to get worse out there.”
“Oh I know,” Elizabeth frowned. “China is already moving forces to the Russian border. Things are going to go down.”
“Liz,” Andrew began, stroking her face softly. “I can’t lose you. You know that. I need you more than ever.”
“I know honey,” Elizabeth nodded in agreement. “I know.”
“How long have you been back?”
“Around a week or so.”
“An entire week?!” Andrew exclaimed in disbelief.
“Yeah, they had to make sure I wasn’t sick, got anything down in South America, contracted a virus, the usual nine yards. Drug testing and everything. That stuff takes time, in addition to getting shot.”
Andrew was at a loss. He rotated the stool to face away from his wife of ten years and bit his knuckles. “How much more do you have to do dear?”
“Andrew,” Elizabeth snapped gently. “Let me tell you something, shut the door.”
He complied and shut the door.
“I’m retiring.”
“What?” Andrew gasped. “How can we pay for the kid’s private school and college? We can’t afford the house on my salary alone….”
Elizabeth didn’t say a word. She reached over to a small side table next to her hospital bed and handed him the business card that Keanu Reeves had given her. “Read this.”
He scanned it over briefly before handing it back to her. “Keanu Reeves? You got his business card? How does this help?”
“I met him,” she insisted. “I met him during a military exercise where I was. I showed him a few things and he wants to work with me.”
Andrew started to reply, but he saw the change in demeanor in his wife. Her eyes glistened and sparkled, and her face was radiating joy. She was not lying, no. He could see it in her eyes. She was excited, perhaps more so than he had seen her since the birth of their children. She was hopeful.
“So what will you do with him?”
“I’m not sure dear, but I’m going to give a call when I go home later today. I’m discharged. I just gotta not do anything stupid and I’ll heal up.”
“May I drive you home dear?”
“I mean, I won’t say no. I assume the kids are still at school?”
“Yes dear,” Andrew smiled, gently kissing his wife on her forehead. “Lets go home.”
Later that afternoon, her children came home to a surprise—that their mother was back. Her daughters were incredibly delighted and received their gifts that she had bought for them with joy. Her son went to his room without saying anything, but once the commotion and buzz died down, he came back with Andrew to say something. As she was sitting watching Fox News on her recliner, she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was William.
“Hi mom,” William said.
“Will?” Elizabeth asked, turning her head.
“Go on son,” Andrew encouraged, patting him on the back.
“Mama…I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you,” he whispered out, looking her straight in the eye. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh William,” Elizabeth smiled, hugging her son with a love that only a mother could provide. Unlike other times, he made no real effort to resist. “I’m sorry for always being away. Mommy will change that, I promise you. I am going to change jobs here soon, and I will be always be here for you. Alright son?”
“Alright mama,” William agreed.
“I will never leave you. I will never forsake you. No matter what happens, or no matter how many miles I am from you, know that mommy will always love you and be there for you. I promise you that from the bottom of my heart.”
“Thanks mommy,” William responded. He ran back to his room but not before picking up his gifts.
“I told him, you know,” Andrew said proudly. “About the pregnancy.”
“Really?”
“I did,” Andrew nodded, sitting right next to his wife and cuddling with her. His cheeks turned white with arousal and he felt himself unable to concentrate anymore. “I had to,” he said, kissing his wife.
“You did a good job dear,” Elizabeth replied breathlessly. Without a word, Andrew carried her to their bedroom and locked the door behind them.
Something was gnawing at him, however. Andrew was a lifelong fan of space exploration and aerodynamics, which is why he got his degree in Aeronautical Engineering from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, which was located not far from where he grew up. He normally loved his job, but today, his mind was wandering. He could not focus on the work in front him. Taking a deep a long breath, he turned his head and picked up a photo that he kept at his desk of the day that he and Elizabeth said their marriage vows to one another. While Andrew swore that she only kept getting more and more attractive as she aged, she looked truly spectacular in her wedding dress. It was a magical day that he could never forget. Even if he went blind, he could probably paint the images right onto a canvas. The memory was that vivid and that real for him. He was never really religious, but she insisted on a church wedding, so he relented…it was her wedding, not his, after all.
He chuckled as he remembered how they met, on a blind date set up by their friends. He almost had to be forced into it, and he never expected to meet anyone he was attracted to, yet alone would get along with. To his surprise, he met the woman of his dreams on that day; they went to get pizza at a local restaurant and ended up staying with another for the entire day. It was love at first sight. After less than a year of dating, he proposed to her and that was that. People begged them to slow it down, but they took a risk. He was a young engineer and she was a military officer. Early in their marriage, Elizabeth kept asking him to go to church with her, but he always refused, saying that he liked sleeping in instead. He never really had a history with religion: his parents were nominally Lutheran and they went once or twice a year, but he was never involved or anything. Elizabeth was the total opposite, and was almost always had her church for some sort of event. She went to Bible studies, choir practices, evening communion services, outreach events, and all sorts of church activities. She always invited her to everything but he rebuffed her at every turn. Despite these apparent personality differences, Elizabeth quickly got pregnant with their first child and Andrew was happier than he had ever been.
Unfortunately, things took a dark turn. On a routine commute back from her office in the later stages of her pregnancy, she got into a car accident with a drunk driver. She barely survived. The doctors told her that if she continued carrying her child, she would most likely die and they begged her to abort her son. Andrew pleaded with her. Begged her. He was madly in love and young with little savings. There was no way he could reasonably care for a child by himself: he refused to entertain it. Elizabeth refused. He was flabbergasted, but she maintained time and time again that she had lived her life and that if she was to die, then that was God’s plan for her. She continued to say, time and time again, that her child was a gift, and that he deserved to live his life. Andrew could not comprehend such madness, but his constant and agonizing pleas did not convince her to change her course. Even threatening to leave her did nothing. Elizabeth turned deeper and deeper into her faith, and a revolving cast of church members continued to visit her day in and day out. One Sunday, the Pastor even came after the sermon to give her a brief sermon of his own. He never understood that culture, but did nothing to stop them. All he knew was that women from the church would always be over to make him a meal and keep their house in order.
His agony turned to joy when his wife gave birth to their son William Chandler after a long and perilous c-section. Their son was healthy despite all the trauma that he undoubtedly endured in the womb, and despite all the predictions that the doctors gave, Elizabeth survived. She remained in the hospital for weeks, but she survived. With tears in his eyes, he prayed for the first time in years and thanked God for keeping his wife alive and safe. He gave his life to Christ that night and was baptized in front of the entire congregation soon after Elizabeth was discharged from the hospital. His wife had changed him. Her conviction in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary shocked him, but ultimately, saved him. While they certainly had a happy marriage before his conversion, it took a different flavor afterwards, one where he was finally able to understand her on a deeper and more personal level. They were inseparable afterwards. He stopped drinking almost entirely and his secret pornography addiction disappear almost instantly.
Over the next few years, Elizabeth continued to get promoted and was being deployed more and more often. Despite this, they ended up having two more children. Elizabeth wanted more, but her work was getting in the way of that. In her late twenties and early thirties, she was deployed almost constantly, only spending weeks at a time at home. Andrew never understood what she did or why she was gone so often, but always trusted God’s plan. It wasn’t like he asked: he did so often, but she refused to tell him. It was classified she said.
Looking back on the last ten years of his life, Andrew missed her more than ever. He sighed longingly and struggled to get back to work. As he daydreamed about her, his office phone began to ring. He almost missed it, but was jolted back to reality by a co-worker.
“Andy,” the man who sat next to him began. “Your phone’s ringing.”
“Right right,” Andrew stammered. “I was daydreaming,” he replied, picking the phone. “Andrew Chandler, Lockheed Martin. Speaking?”
“This is Andrew Chandler, husband of Elizabeth Davis Chandler correct?”
“Yes?” Andrew said warily. “Who is speaking?”
“This is Womack Army Medical Center. I’m a doctor here, and I just wanted to inform you that your wife is in the hospital right now nursing two bullet…”
“What?!” Andrew yelled far louder than he realized he did. Previously busy coworkers stopped what they were doing to find out what was going on.
“She is fine and got back two days ago, but we just wanted to let you know that are free to visit her now if you wish…”
“I’ll be there soon,” Andrew gasped, hanging up the phone and frantically getting his stuff together at his desk. Everything was a mess, but he could clean that up any day really.
“You alright Andy?” His coworker asked.
“Yes… I mean no,” Andrew answered, packing his stuff. “My wife is in the hospital.”
“If you need to go Andy, just go. We can handle it here.”
“Thanks man,” Andrew said without looking at the worker sitting next to him. He left his office and practically sprinted out the front door and into his sleek and black Lexus sedan. He was thankful that he worked on Fort Bragg itself, so the drive there was mercifully short, but even then, he sped as fast as he could without being pulled over down Longstreet Road and into the large parking lots next to the Medical Center. He rushed into the emergency room area, asked where Elizabeth was, and frantically ran up a few flights of stairs to the room where she being rehabilitated at.
He finally found the room and to his relief, there were no doctors inside and the door was propped open slightly for him to enter. She was laying on the bed watching some sort of news broadcast on the screen, and she looked grimed face like something was bothering her. Elizabeth noticed that someone entered, so she turned her head and smiled when she realized it was her husband. Andrew turned and briefly saw that she was watching: a news report about the nuking of Moscow that occurred a week ago. It was the biggest news story of the decade, perhaps ever.
“Andrew!” She squealed with delight, smiling from ear to ear.
“I’m here dear,” Andrew said tenderly as he sat on a small stool next to her and gently brought her hand to his lips. “Are you alright?”
“You know, I’ve been better,” she replied truthfully. She scrunched up her hospital gown’s sleeve to reveal the nasty burned scar that had been left on her shoulder. “Got hit here, and on the back of my right thigh, you can see it, I mean, you are my husband after all, you know what it looks like.”
That answer did not satisfy him in the slightest. “Dear, what happened?”
“Oh Andrew,” she lamented, taking a despairing sigh. “I wish I could tell you.”
“Did you hear what happened in Moscow?” Andrew sighed, changing the subject and referring to the subject of the current news broadcast. “Millions are dead. Heads of state were killed, dear, things are only going to get worse out there.”
“Oh I know,” Elizabeth frowned. “China is already moving forces to the Russian border. Things are going to go down.”
“Liz,” Andrew began, stroking her face softly. “I can’t lose you. You know that. I need you more than ever.”
“I know honey,” Elizabeth nodded in agreement. “I know.”
“How long have you been back?”
“Around a week or so.”
“An entire week?!” Andrew exclaimed in disbelief.
“Yeah, they had to make sure I wasn’t sick, got anything down in South America, contracted a virus, the usual nine yards. Drug testing and everything. That stuff takes time, in addition to getting shot.”
Andrew was at a loss. He rotated the stool to face away from his wife of ten years and bit his knuckles. “How much more do you have to do dear?”
“Andrew,” Elizabeth snapped gently. “Let me tell you something, shut the door.”
He complied and shut the door.
“I’m retiring.”
“What?” Andrew gasped. “How can we pay for the kid’s private school and college? We can’t afford the house on my salary alone….”
Elizabeth didn’t say a word. She reached over to a small side table next to her hospital bed and handed him the business card that Keanu Reeves had given her. “Read this.”
He scanned it over briefly before handing it back to her. “Keanu Reeves? You got his business card? How does this help?”
“I met him,” she insisted. “I met him during a military exercise where I was. I showed him a few things and he wants to work with me.”
Andrew started to reply, but he saw the change in demeanor in his wife. Her eyes glistened and sparkled, and her face was radiating joy. She was not lying, no. He could see it in her eyes. She was excited, perhaps more so than he had seen her since the birth of their children. She was hopeful.
“So what will you do with him?”
“I’m not sure dear, but I’m going to give a call when I go home later today. I’m discharged. I just gotta not do anything stupid and I’ll heal up.”
“May I drive you home dear?”
“I mean, I won’t say no. I assume the kids are still at school?”
“Yes dear,” Andrew smiled, gently kissing his wife on her forehead. “Lets go home.”
Later that afternoon, her children came home to a surprise—that their mother was back. Her daughters were incredibly delighted and received their gifts that she had bought for them with joy. Her son went to his room without saying anything, but once the commotion and buzz died down, he came back with Andrew to say something. As she was sitting watching Fox News on her recliner, she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was William.
“Hi mom,” William said.
“Will?” Elizabeth asked, turning her head.
“Go on son,” Andrew encouraged, patting him on the back.
“Mama…I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you,” he whispered out, looking her straight in the eye. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh William,” Elizabeth smiled, hugging her son with a love that only a mother could provide. Unlike other times, he made no real effort to resist. “I’m sorry for always being away. Mommy will change that, I promise you. I am going to change jobs here soon, and I will be always be here for you. Alright son?”
“Alright mama,” William agreed.
“I will never leave you. I will never forsake you. No matter what happens, or no matter how many miles I am from you, know that mommy will always love you and be there for you. I promise you that from the bottom of my heart.”
“Thanks mommy,” William responded. He ran back to his room but not before picking up his gifts.
“I told him, you know,” Andrew said proudly. “About the pregnancy.”
“Really?”
“I did,” Andrew nodded, sitting right next to his wife and cuddling with her. His cheeks turned white with arousal and he felt himself unable to concentrate anymore. “I had to,” he said, kissing his wife.
“You did a good job dear,” Elizabeth replied breathlessly. Without a word, Andrew carried her to their bedroom and locked the door behind them.
Quick question: how is the pacing so far? My main issue in my previous stories is that I felt like I was slogging, especially with England Lives and Marches on. I’m doing my best to have every single chapter mean something, but part of me feels like I’m whizzing by. What do you guys think?
Elizabeth pulled up to her office for what she knew was her last day here. Rubio knew already, but she would have to break the news to the rest of her squad. They would be understanding for sure, but there was no telling how Scott Mitchell would react. He was usually calm as a cucumber, but in these perilous times, who knew? Elizabeth would certainly be deployed again in the coming days and she knew that. She had to put an end to her job before being deployed to God knows where.
The bombing in Moscow killed the heads of state of the NATO countries, Russia, and China. China devolved into chaos, with various communist factions vying for control in the vacuum that Xi’s death left. Ultranationalist rebels in Russia seized the government and publicly blamed China for the nuclear attack. North Korea was moving troops to the border with South Korea, and globally, tensions were nearly at a breaking point—all that was needed was a spark to cause this power keg to burst. It would not take much at all. Not at all.
Despite this, Elizabeth had already made arrangements with Keanu Reeves, and it went better than expected. In addition to training him, she was actually going to be a character in John Wick 4! Better yet, the money that was offered to her was more than enough to make retiring financially feasible for the Chandler family, and would actually make them financially better off in general. Not only would use be able to use her real life skills in a job that did not involve killing people, she would stay at home far more and become the mother to her family that she wanted to become. It was truly a win win for everyone involved.
She entered the gym where her squad worked out at every single day, and saw them lifting weights and keeping their fitness up, but she was not dressed at all to work out. Holt was the first to notice this, and put his dumbbell back on the rack.
“Hey boss!” He called her over as he leaned up from the bench. “You’re dressed a bit much to work out!” He said, referring to her military fatigues.
Elizabeth chuckled loudly and walked over to her squadmate. “You’re right on that count! I’m not working out today.”
“What do you mean?” Weaver inquired, stepping off of an elliptical.
“Men,” she began as everyone was paying attention. “It’s been the honor of my life to be a Ghost and serve with you boys, but I am going to submit my retirement later today.”
“What?!” Holt asked loudly in a fit of surprise. “You’re retiring?”
“I am,” Elizabeth nodded, wiping some tears from her eyes. “I know that this is a surprise, trust me. I love you men more than I can express, but being shot twice in Bolivia made me realize just how…fragile I am. My family needs me, and it would be selfish to continue. Rubio will be the new squad commander effective midnight tonight. I am confident that he will do an incredible job and lead this team effectively. A new member will be assigned to this squad sometime in the near future. Train him or her up and make this better than ever. Hoowah?”
“Hoowah,” the squad replied in a mixture of disappointment and hesitation.
“Know that I leave with no ill will. I just need to be with my family, and this job is preventing me from doing that. If you ever want to hangout, you know where I live, just stop in. Drinks are always on me.”
“Fair enough boss,” Holt frowned every so slightly. Elizabeth could see the tightness in his mouth and the disappointment in his body language.
“My last order as commander is to give you guys the day off,” Elizabeth said. “I think you all will need it after this unexpected news. I’m going to speak to the old man upstairs and submit my papers.”
“He’s not going to be happy,” Weaver interjected.
“I’m sure he won’t,” Elizabeth replied, shrugging, “but what can he do?”
“Just watch out Liz,” Rubio cautioned. “Things are getting hairy out there. He may even call you a traitor or deserter.”
“I can handle him,” Elizabeth countered. “I’m a Ghost after all. I’ll see you boys later, Nomad out.”
Elizbeth left the gym as she was unable to handle being in there anymore. As much as she wanted to leave, she truly loved her squad, and the thought of leaving them shattered her heart into pieces: she was letting them down, and she knew that from the moment she told Rubio in Bolivia. She knew, however, that Scott would be far more emotional about her quitting, especially in this current political climate. As she entered her office, she took a deep breath in preparation. All she had to do was quit and get out. That was it.
“Major Chandler?” Scott called as she entered and sat at a small chair next to his desk. “I wasn’t expecting you. Is everything alright?”
“Everything is fine sir,” Elizabeth replied.
“Since you’re here,” he said, pulling a stack of folders from under his desk, “it saves me from going down to get you. Your squad is being deployed to Russia in a days. Shit is going down around the world and we need to get our undercover agents out of the country. Here are all the files that you will need.”
Elizabeth gently bit her lip and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry sir, but I won’t be going to Russia.”
“I beg your pardon?” He said, finally looking up at her.
“Sir, I’m not sure how to put this…” she began unconfidently, “But I am retiring today. Sir, I resign. Give me my resignation papers and I will be leaving the Ghost Recon Unit today.”
Scott Mitchell stared at her blankly, almost like something had hit him square on the head. “Is this a joke?” He snapped, taking his reading glasses off and practically slamming them against the desk. He was truly angry, but Elizabeth was ready for anything.
“This is not a joke commander,” she replied. “Just give me my papers and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“You piece of shit,” Scott seethed. “Are you kidding me? With all of this going down you decide to pussy out and leave?! We fucking need you Nomad! We need you!”
“Look, sir,” Elizabeth pleaded. “I understand, but my family need…”
“We all have families Chandler!” He practically yelled. “We all have kids that we need to feed and take care of…look, I fucking made you! I took a chance on you, and this is how you repay me? By deserting when we need you the most? You were the first female team lead in history…how will this make your gender look?! WE need you!!”
“You question my commitment?” Elizabeth hissed. “I’ve taken four bullet wounds for this country, and you dare to question me? I’ve done more for Uncle Sam in my thirty five years of life and seventeen years of service than one hundred people could do in a thousand lifetimes! Just give me my damn papers so I can get out of here.”
“I should have you court martialed and jailed for treason,” Scott Mitchell said angrily, reaching into his desk and pulled out a stack of papers. “Take these and get the fuck out of here. Just send them in the mail today. If I see you anywhere, I’ll put a fucking hollowpoint in your fucking skull? Do you understand me asshole?”
“I understand,” Elizabeth sighed, grabbing the papers and hightailing it out of your office.
“You fucking traitor!” Scott screamed, his voice echoing loudly down the hall.
It was done. She ran to her office, cleaned it out as quickly as she could, and hightailed it out before Scott had the chance to pull something funny on her. On her drive through the base, she must have broken every single traffic rule that she could have, from speeding, to turning when she wasn’t supposed to and so on, but once she was out of the base, she breathed a loud sigh of relief and drove back to her house. To her surprise, Andrew was there and sitting on the couch watching some random show on the television. He wasn’t paying attention, instead reading something on his phone. Oddly enough, he was dressed in his usual pajamas instead of a work outfit. It was clear that he never even bothered to make it to work.
“Dear?” Elizabeth asked, sitting next to him. “Shouldn’t you be at work? It’s barely noon.”
“I mean, I should,” he replied, “but I took two weeks paid leave from work. I just needed a bit of a break you know. A nice long break. Work was getting really stressful and I was tired.”
“I’m sure this had nothing to do with my retirement, did it not?” She teased, cuddling up with the love of her life.
“You know dear,” Andrew smiled, looking right into her eyes with a look of both compassion and lust, “I have not had a free week with you in years, ever since our honeymoon. It’s been work, work, and more work for over a decade, and to be honest, I’m tired of it. Your job is done, I took two weeks off. Let’s enjoy ourselves for once. You and I, husband and wife, alone.”
“Andy,” Elizabeth gasped with arousal, “That sounds…lovely.”
“No children during the day, just you and I,” he said, gently touching her chest. “All day. You and I. You said you wanted a fourth child right?”
“I do,” Elizabeth answered in a hushed tone, undoing her shirt.
“If it’s a son, his name will be Ethan alright?”
“I like that name.”
For the first time that she could remember, she had no obligations and nothing to worry about—she was totally focused on the here and now…on her husband. Andrew made love to her on their couch more passionately than she had ever experienced since their honeymoon. It was rough, yet totally pleasing to her. She was on cloud nine. No worries, just pleasure and fun.
“Andrew!” She exclaimed as leaned back onto the couch, gasping for air. “Where did that come from?”
“I’ve been waiting for something this years,” he responded playfully.
“As have I but that was something else.”
“I can go again honey,” he gasped, biting her gently on her neck. “I can go all day.”
“Give me a little rest,” she laughed. “I’m not a teenager anymore, but maybe you still are.”
She called Keanu Reeves once her children came home, and confirmed her schedule with him. Filming for John Wick 4 was to begin, luckily for her, in two weeks. They were filming some scenes, conveniently enough, near Fort Bragg, so she didn’t have to travel anywhere for her scenes or be away from her family for any period of time, at least for now. As far as she was aware, she was going to play as a Navy Seal who was hunting John Wick on behalf of the US government. It was ironic since she really didn’t like the Seals all that much, but at least it fit what was she was good at. John Wick was going to kill her in a particularly brutal manner, but at least she was going to be on the big screen. William would be thrilled and would undoubtedly become popular at school for that.
The next, more positive part of her life was about to begin. She was thankful that she would never have to kill anyone ever again.
The bombing in Moscow killed the heads of state of the NATO countries, Russia, and China. China devolved into chaos, with various communist factions vying for control in the vacuum that Xi’s death left. Ultranationalist rebels in Russia seized the government and publicly blamed China for the nuclear attack. North Korea was moving troops to the border with South Korea, and globally, tensions were nearly at a breaking point—all that was needed was a spark to cause this power keg to burst. It would not take much at all. Not at all.
Despite this, Elizabeth had already made arrangements with Keanu Reeves, and it went better than expected. In addition to training him, she was actually going to be a character in John Wick 4! Better yet, the money that was offered to her was more than enough to make retiring financially feasible for the Chandler family, and would actually make them financially better off in general. Not only would use be able to use her real life skills in a job that did not involve killing people, she would stay at home far more and become the mother to her family that she wanted to become. It was truly a win win for everyone involved.
She entered the gym where her squad worked out at every single day, and saw them lifting weights and keeping their fitness up, but she was not dressed at all to work out. Holt was the first to notice this, and put his dumbbell back on the rack.
“Hey boss!” He called her over as he leaned up from the bench. “You’re dressed a bit much to work out!” He said, referring to her military fatigues.
Elizabeth chuckled loudly and walked over to her squadmate. “You’re right on that count! I’m not working out today.”
“What do you mean?” Weaver inquired, stepping off of an elliptical.
“Men,” she began as everyone was paying attention. “It’s been the honor of my life to be a Ghost and serve with you boys, but I am going to submit my retirement later today.”
“What?!” Holt asked loudly in a fit of surprise. “You’re retiring?”
“I am,” Elizabeth nodded, wiping some tears from her eyes. “I know that this is a surprise, trust me. I love you men more than I can express, but being shot twice in Bolivia made me realize just how…fragile I am. My family needs me, and it would be selfish to continue. Rubio will be the new squad commander effective midnight tonight. I am confident that he will do an incredible job and lead this team effectively. A new member will be assigned to this squad sometime in the near future. Train him or her up and make this better than ever. Hoowah?”
“Hoowah,” the squad replied in a mixture of disappointment and hesitation.
“Know that I leave with no ill will. I just need to be with my family, and this job is preventing me from doing that. If you ever want to hangout, you know where I live, just stop in. Drinks are always on me.”
“Fair enough boss,” Holt frowned every so slightly. Elizabeth could see the tightness in his mouth and the disappointment in his body language.
“My last order as commander is to give you guys the day off,” Elizabeth said. “I think you all will need it after this unexpected news. I’m going to speak to the old man upstairs and submit my papers.”
“He’s not going to be happy,” Weaver interjected.
“I’m sure he won’t,” Elizabeth replied, shrugging, “but what can he do?”
“Just watch out Liz,” Rubio cautioned. “Things are getting hairy out there. He may even call you a traitor or deserter.”
“I can handle him,” Elizabeth countered. “I’m a Ghost after all. I’ll see you boys later, Nomad out.”
Elizbeth left the gym as she was unable to handle being in there anymore. As much as she wanted to leave, she truly loved her squad, and the thought of leaving them shattered her heart into pieces: she was letting them down, and she knew that from the moment she told Rubio in Bolivia. She knew, however, that Scott would be far more emotional about her quitting, especially in this current political climate. As she entered her office, she took a deep breath in preparation. All she had to do was quit and get out. That was it.
“Major Chandler?” Scott called as she entered and sat at a small chair next to his desk. “I wasn’t expecting you. Is everything alright?”
“Everything is fine sir,” Elizabeth replied.
“Since you’re here,” he said, pulling a stack of folders from under his desk, “it saves me from going down to get you. Your squad is being deployed to Russia in a days. Shit is going down around the world and we need to get our undercover agents out of the country. Here are all the files that you will need.”
Elizabeth gently bit her lip and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry sir, but I won’t be going to Russia.”
“I beg your pardon?” He said, finally looking up at her.
“Sir, I’m not sure how to put this…” she began unconfidently, “But I am retiring today. Sir, I resign. Give me my resignation papers and I will be leaving the Ghost Recon Unit today.”
Scott Mitchell stared at her blankly, almost like something had hit him square on the head. “Is this a joke?” He snapped, taking his reading glasses off and practically slamming them against the desk. He was truly angry, but Elizabeth was ready for anything.
“This is not a joke commander,” she replied. “Just give me my papers and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“You piece of shit,” Scott seethed. “Are you kidding me? With all of this going down you decide to pussy out and leave?! We fucking need you Nomad! We need you!”
“Look, sir,” Elizabeth pleaded. “I understand, but my family need…”
“We all have families Chandler!” He practically yelled. “We all have kids that we need to feed and take care of…look, I fucking made you! I took a chance on you, and this is how you repay me? By deserting when we need you the most? You were the first female team lead in history…how will this make your gender look?! WE need you!!”
“You question my commitment?” Elizabeth hissed. “I’ve taken four bullet wounds for this country, and you dare to question me? I’ve done more for Uncle Sam in my thirty five years of life and seventeen years of service than one hundred people could do in a thousand lifetimes! Just give me my damn papers so I can get out of here.”
“I should have you court martialed and jailed for treason,” Scott Mitchell said angrily, reaching into his desk and pulled out a stack of papers. “Take these and get the fuck out of here. Just send them in the mail today. If I see you anywhere, I’ll put a fucking hollowpoint in your fucking skull? Do you understand me asshole?”
“I understand,” Elizabeth sighed, grabbing the papers and hightailing it out of your office.
“You fucking traitor!” Scott screamed, his voice echoing loudly down the hall.
It was done. She ran to her office, cleaned it out as quickly as she could, and hightailed it out before Scott had the chance to pull something funny on her. On her drive through the base, she must have broken every single traffic rule that she could have, from speeding, to turning when she wasn’t supposed to and so on, but once she was out of the base, she breathed a loud sigh of relief and drove back to her house. To her surprise, Andrew was there and sitting on the couch watching some random show on the television. He wasn’t paying attention, instead reading something on his phone. Oddly enough, he was dressed in his usual pajamas instead of a work outfit. It was clear that he never even bothered to make it to work.
“Dear?” Elizabeth asked, sitting next to him. “Shouldn’t you be at work? It’s barely noon.”
“I mean, I should,” he replied, “but I took two weeks paid leave from work. I just needed a bit of a break you know. A nice long break. Work was getting really stressful and I was tired.”
“I’m sure this had nothing to do with my retirement, did it not?” She teased, cuddling up with the love of her life.
“You know dear,” Andrew smiled, looking right into her eyes with a look of both compassion and lust, “I have not had a free week with you in years, ever since our honeymoon. It’s been work, work, and more work for over a decade, and to be honest, I’m tired of it. Your job is done, I took two weeks off. Let’s enjoy ourselves for once. You and I, husband and wife, alone.”
“Andy,” Elizabeth gasped with arousal, “That sounds…lovely.”
“No children during the day, just you and I,” he said, gently touching her chest. “All day. You and I. You said you wanted a fourth child right?”
“I do,” Elizabeth answered in a hushed tone, undoing her shirt.
“If it’s a son, his name will be Ethan alright?”
“I like that name.”
For the first time that she could remember, she had no obligations and nothing to worry about—she was totally focused on the here and now…on her husband. Andrew made love to her on their couch more passionately than she had ever experienced since their honeymoon. It was rough, yet totally pleasing to her. She was on cloud nine. No worries, just pleasure and fun.
“Andrew!” She exclaimed as leaned back onto the couch, gasping for air. “Where did that come from?”
“I’ve been waiting for something this years,” he responded playfully.
“As have I but that was something else.”
“I can go again honey,” he gasped, biting her gently on her neck. “I can go all day.”
“Give me a little rest,” she laughed. “I’m not a teenager anymore, but maybe you still are.”
She called Keanu Reeves once her children came home, and confirmed her schedule with him. Filming for John Wick 4 was to begin, luckily for her, in two weeks. They were filming some scenes, conveniently enough, near Fort Bragg, so she didn’t have to travel anywhere for her scenes or be away from her family for any period of time, at least for now. As far as she was aware, she was going to play as a Navy Seal who was hunting John Wick on behalf of the US government. It was ironic since she really didn’t like the Seals all that much, but at least it fit what was she was good at. John Wick was going to kill her in a particularly brutal manner, but at least she was going to be on the big screen. William would be thrilled and would undoubtedly become popular at school for that.
The next, more positive part of her life was about to begin. She was thankful that she would never have to kill anyone ever again.