33(S3E7)-Gold!

33

(Season 3, Episode 7)

Gold!

Afghanistan… Before

“I highly doubt that is how it happened.” Stone said into the earpiece that connected him to his partner, Rockwell.

Stone was hidden under some brush, unmoving on the side of one of the thousands of dirt roads that criss-crossed the foreign land.  He was still, his M-16 assault rifle set on three round burst.  He and his partner were waiting for a high profile target to make its way down the road.

They had gotten the information after ruthlessly torturing a different terrorist to gain the information. Rockwell had taken too much pleasure in this endeavor.  Stone didn’t mind, though.  At the end of the day, the two seemed to complement each other.

“You calling me a liar, mother fucker?” Rockwell chimed in over the mic.  He was hidden on the other side of the road up the side of the hill about two hundred yards away.  The dirt road moved through a natural valley, making it a perfect spot to launch their ambush.

“Yes, yes I am.” Stone replied, emotionlessly.

“What part don’t you believe?” Rockwell sounded hurt.

Stone knew that wasn’t the case.  Rockwell could not be hurt.

“All of it.” Stone responded.  “Especially the part where you used a groundhog to kill the pimp.”

“Wait, after the three way?”  Rockwell asked, confused.

“Yes.”  Stone allowed sarcasm to bleed into his voice.  “After the three way.”

“Well, I guess you just had to be there.” Rockwell said, giving up.

“I would have to, in order to believe any of it.” Stone replied.

“Fuck you.” Rockwell said.

Stone changed the subject.  “Do you have visual?”

Stone knew Rockwell was watching the road through the scope of his high powered .50 caliber rifle.  “Do I have a visual?”

Rockwell mocked.  “No I don’t, Echo Charlie Sierra, what’s with the army talk?  We’re fucking off the grid now.”

Stone sighed.  “Do you fucking see them, or not?”

“No, I don’t-.  Wait, I have them.”  Rockwell’s voice came back and Stone felt the adrenaline flood into his blood stream.

“What are we looking at?” Stone asked for in overview of a situation.

“Three open canopy Jeeps.  Twelve guys, all armed.  Looks like Ak’s.”  Rockwell described the targets.  “Twelve will put us back in the lead, mother fuckers!”

Rockwell was speaking about the kill board back at Rattlesnake.  The soldier with the most kills got a bonus each week.

“Shit, twelve is a lot,” Stone said, concerned.  “Not sure about this.”

“Don’t be a bitch.”  Rockwell spoke sharply.  “We have the upper hand.  Hell, I could probably take eight myself.”

Stone shook his head to himself.  “You are so full of shit.”

“When they are in the zone, I’m gonna’ cut loose.  If you want to be a pussy, stay in your bush.” Rockwell stated boldly.

“Alright dick,” Stone said giving in.  “I move on your mark.”

“Sweeeet...” Rockwell almost moaned.

“And Rockwell,” Stone said finally hearing the truck engine approaching.  “Make sure you miss me.”

Stone thumbed the safety on his rifle and prepared to make his move.  Suddenly, without warning Rockwell’s gun fired, sending the report echoing through the hills.

“Heads up, mother fuckers!” He yelled, less to Stone and more just in general.

Stone peeked out, knowing the target’s eyes would be on the hills.  Rockwell’s first shot had pierced the windshield of the lead Jeep and struck the terrorist’s center chest.  The huge round caved in his heart instantly.  The driver fell forward and the Jeep banked and flipped.  Two of the passengers had leapt off at the last second, hitting the ground and rolling through the dust and weeds.  The fourth passenger was not so lucky, as the Jeep’s full weight came down on top of him.

Rockwell’s second shot was an exact copy of the first, taking the middle Jeep’s driver.  That driver rocked back and the Jeep came to an immediate stop, his foot having hit the brake.

As the Jeep stopped, Stone let loose, firing a three round burst then adjusting and doing the same three times quickly in the matter of seconds.  The three remaining passengers dropped, in turn, all of them looking in the opposite direction.

Rockwell’s rifle sounded two more times in quick succession.  “Got your back!”  He said to Stone over the mic and Stone knew the two men from the first Jeep behind him had been dealt with.

Stone instead focused his attention on the third Jeep.  The men inside had decided to cut their losses and get the hell out of there.  Screaming Muslim obscenities, the driver gunned it, pulling the Jeep off road as he tried to get around the two wrecks in front of them.

Stone thumbed the fire rate from three-round burst to full auto and depressed the trigger.  The remaining 21 bullets spewed forth from the business end of the barrel in less than a second.  The lead punched holes into the side of the Jeep, riddled the right side front and right side back passengers with bullets and blew the front tire.

One of the bullets, which had passed through the passenger, ripped through the driver’s forearm at the same moment the tire blew.  These two factors together were more than enough to send the Jeep out of control and into the steep hill, the wheels leaving the ground and sending it crashing to its side.

Stone began to walk toward the Jeep, dropping his empty clip and pulling another one to reload.  One of the remaining targets pulled himself to his feet, screaming bloody murder.  Stone continued walking, unafraid as he knew what would come next.

The terrorist raised his rifle and, just before he fired, Rockwell’s weapon was heard and the man’s head exploded sending grey matter and skull fragments all over the Jeep behind him.

“Cut that one a little close.” Stone stated into the mic.

“I like it when their heads explode.” Rockwell sated with childlike wonder.

The driver was crawling away through the dust as Stone jammed the second clip into the gun and racked the slide.  He reached the crawling man’s side and kicked him over onto his back.

The man put his hands up and started screaming things in panicked Arabic.  He seemed to be begging for his life.  Stone hesitated as he caught a couple of words he had picked up.

“What’s the hold up?”  Rockwell asked over the mic.  Stone figured he was eager to see the ‘head pop’.

“This guy is saying something confusing.  I think he’s saying ‘Take it.” Stone said back, confused.

“Take what?” Rockwell asked.

“I’m not sure.  I think he’s trying to buy his life.”  Stone responded, bending closer to try to understand what the driver was saying.

“Bored.” Rockwell suddenly yelled and his rifle sounded through the hills.  The driver’s chest exploded as the high caliber round struck him.  This spewed blood over Stone’s face.

“You fucking asshole!” Stone yelled, stumbling backward and spitting the man’s blood out of his mouth.

Stone heard Rockwell’s jackal-like laughter in as he stumbled into the backend of the overturned Jeep, franticly wiping the blood off his face with his sleeve.  His leg bumped into the crate which had fallen out of the back end of the Jeep.  When he did, it opened slightly and he saw something fall out and catch his eye.

He stared at it in shock.  “Rockwell, get down hear.”

A couple of minutes later, Rockwell and Stone stood at the back of the middle Jeep.  It was still upright. Two crates sat in the back end of the all-terrain vehicle.  Stone pulled his knife and pried open one of the crates.

“Mother fucker.”  Rockwell said in awe.

The two men were staring at a crate full of gold bars.  The Jeeps had been transporting gold.  Lots of it.

Stone took one look and knew that he had just retired.

****
Shaky stood outside the Rattlesnake base and watched the sun setting.

Coswald Broker Smith, otherwise known as Shaky, was convinced he had been born with extra ordinary abilities.  He had a sixth sense about people.  He could feel when he was being lied to, screwed over or abandoned.  This special sense had never been mistaken, not once in his life.

This allowed him to do a few things with absolute perfection.  Play poker, kill men, and call bullshit for what it was.

His sixth sense was going off right now.

“Who hasn’t checked in?” He asked Napalm, his second in command.

“Rockwell and Stone, Sir.”  Napalm responded.

Shaky took a second to focus his ability and in that instant, he knew.  Rockwell and Stone were trying to fuck him over.  “Get the men, we are going after them.”