David Golemon - Primeval

Sarah and Ryan, flanked by Marla heard the roar of the animal. Ryan suddenly realized that the shooting had stopped. He looked around as the cry of the beast subsided. As he did, Marla screamed as something flew through the night to strike the rear of the store with a loud wet sound. Sarah turned away as she ran, realizing it was a man's body that hit and then fell over feet first from the wall of the store.

"Run, Ryan, run! They're here!"

Ryan didn't care a whole lot for that "they're here" remark. He knew the girl wasn't talking about the Russians. "Oh, shit," he said as he limped along, finally helped by Sarah. "I think I owe the girl an apology!" he screamed out of breath as they finally made it to the trees.

As the bruised and battered Sarah, Marla, and Ryan made the tree line, the forest became alive with movement and they were seeing for the first time the landlords and founders of the great northwest.

The Chulimantan was no longer a mere legend.

Jack, Carl, Will, and Farbeaux had their hands wire-tied behind their backs. The commandos joked as they followed their orders, with Jack and Henri the only ones to pick up most of what they said. They joked on how easy it had been to capture the highly regarded Collins and his men. Jack kept his temper in check as his eyes roamed the camp, looking for any sign of Lynn.

As he looked around, the four men were unceremoniously pushed to the ground. Will still being weak from Alexander's blow to his head, fell completely over onto his side.

"Damn it," Everett hissed. "Will, are you still with us?" Carl frowned when he saw a small trickle of blood coming from Mendenhall's right ear. "You hang in there, Lieutenant; we've been in worse situations."

"We have?" Will hissed through clenched teeth as he struggled to sit up.

"Stay down," Collins ordered. "We'll be here for a while."

As Jack spoke, he saw a small tent just at the back of the clearing. There was a rather large guard watching it, standing only a few paces in front of its zippered flap. His eyes moved on, but kept coming back to the small blue tent.

"Are you seeing the same thing I am seeing, Colonel?" Henri asked as he tried to make himself more comfortable and failing miserably.

Before Jack could answer that he noticed the lone blue tent, the zipper of the very same enclosure lowered slowly and then the face Jack had been waiting to see appeared in the glow of the fire light. Lynn nodded her head quickly, letting Collins know she was alright. Before she could duck her head back inside after delivering her silent message, the large Spetsnaz in the front of the tent turned quickly and delivered a savage blow with his combat boot directly into Lynn's face, throwing her three feet backward.

Farbeaux and Everett knew what was going to happen a moment before it did. They tried to catch Jack in between their large frames, squeezing as hard as they could, trying to keep Collins wedged between them. Jack would have none of it. He was standing in a flash of movement; one minute he was sitting, the next he was on his feet and moving the thirty-five feet toward the tent where his sister had just been brutally assaulted.

The guard, smiling after making sure his charge wasn't getting up for a while, turned and saw a split second too late the American colonel as he approached. He tried to get his weapon unslung but Jack was much too fast for him. He struck out with his own boot, first knocking the AK-47 away and then with a second hop and kick, caught the guard squarely on the chin. The motion took a split second to happen, freezing the other commandos who had been totally caught off guard. They started moving in force toward Collins.

"Look out, Jack!" Everett called out, starting to stand but being knocked flat by others who contained the situation before they had to shoot the three men Collins had left behind.

Sagli, Deonovich, and Alexander stepped from the technician's tent. They saw what was happening and then saw the fifteen men heading toward the lone American.

"Stop them," Alexander ordered Sagli.

The Russian stepped forward and held his men at bay. "Nyet!" he shouted.

"It's time your mercenaries find out just who it is they are dealing with," Punchy said as he watched the large guard gain his feet.

The Spetsnaz spit blood from his mouth and then felt the cracked chin bone where Jack's boot had connected with it. The man slowly grinned through his pain, putting it aside as he glanced at Sagli. It seemed his boss was going to let him dispose of the American regardless of his importance.

Collins looked behind him at the fifteen others who stood watching and not advancing on him, then took a quick glance at Alexander, who stood silhouetted in the light streaming from the tent he stood in front of.

"Don't let me down, Jack, I'm risking a lot here," the Canadian said.

The Spetsnaz slowly reached to his web belt and removed a large hunting knife. Its edge gleamed in the light of the rising moon, and tinted red by the blazing fire at the center of the camp.

Collins watched the man's feet first, then he raised his eyes to the arm holding the pointed and very sharp weapon. As his eyes climbed higher, he saw the man's eyes. They were dull and expressionless, and Jack knew immediately the man was far too confident of the kill. With his hands tied behind his back, Collins slowly turned in a wide circle, his eyes never wavering from the large brute before him.

The guard — standing at least six foot six inches — towered over Jack even though he was slightly bent at the waist. He smiled through his blood-stained teeth and spit again.

Farbeaux watched Jack closely like a future adversary that he needed to study. He admired the calm way Collins took on the man before him. He saw that Jack could have struck out at anytime he wanted, but he knew the colonel wanted to make this man suffer for his assault on his sister and knew the Spetsnaz would eventually make the move that could possibly get him killed.

The large guard lunged at Collins, who easily stepped away from the knife and the man's heavy body, then he brought his leg high into the air and the boot once more came down — this time on the man's arm, the one not holding the knife because that was the arm Jack knew the man used for balance. Everyone in camp heard the forearm snap as the large Spetsnaz fell to the ground, immediately rolling and regaining his feet. The useless left arm dangled before him. The man became enraged as he charged again; this time Jack stood his ground and at almost four feet away he once more jumped and kicked out with his foot. This time the blow caught the Russian squarely on the side of his face, the roughness of Jack's boot ripping the man's right ear away and sending it into the night.

The Spetsnaz watching couldn't help it; they started laughing at their comrade's predicament as his ear took flight. They were acting like this was a prize fight put on for their amusement.

Jack tired of the game. He thought quickly and knew that no matter what just happened to Lynn, he was not a sadist. As the large guard turned, grabbing the right side of his face as he did, Collins lashed out one last time, spinning horizontally in the air, the heel of his right boot catching the man solidly on the cheek bone, sending him flying to the left and down to the ground where he tried to rise, and then flopped into the sand and rock. For his part, Collins hit the ground, unable to balance himself with his hands tied behind his back. He slammed into the rock and sand, and then just lay there, face down, trying to get his thoughts and breathing under control once more.

Alexander started clapping, slow and loud from the tent, making sure everyone of the Spetsnaz mercenaries saw him do it.