Gary Ponzo - A Touch of Revenge

“Okay,” Nick said into the headset. “Fire the canisters.”

A couple of loud popping sounds echoed throughout the treetops followed by glass shattering. A moment later a muted blast came from inside the house. It only took a few seconds before the smoke began to drift out of the cabin windows, up and away from the approaching soldiers and SWAT team.

From their position, Nick and Matt could see Team A rush the front door. Two soldiers, one on each side of a battering ram, swung the large metal pipe and bashed in the wooden door like it was Styrofoam. The door crashed down in one piece separating from the hinges and slamming hard against the floor. The team of eight charged in the cabin single file, organized and skillful, like it was choreographed for a film.

Nick got to his feet, too antsy to stay back. He wanted to get inside as soon as possible.

“Stay put,” Matt barked.

Nick tucked himself behind a large tree and shifted his weight back and forth, waiting for gunfire. Waiting for the offensive to take hold. Waiting for Barzani’s body to be carried out on a stretcher.

Instead, there was a flash of bright light which, for a split second, didn’t quite register to Nick’s eye. Not until it was followed by a thunderous explosion. A wall of intense pressure punched the air out of the cabin at a rate of three hundred yards per second. Nick was thrown back into a thick bush and lost his breath. He swallowed gulps of oxygen like a swimmer who’d just surfaced from a long dive. The flash of the explosion overwhelmed his eyes and took out his sight. He could hear the crackling of flames and feel the heat generated from the blast. Screams pierced the night. Men’s screams. Soldiers who’d run straight into the arms of danger.

Next to him, below him, he could hear Matt calling his name.

“You okay?” Matt’s voice was muted, but he could tell he was probably screaming.

Nick had to wait before he could respond. His entire body trembled while he struggled to breathe.

He felt a pair of hands on him while the floaters in front of his face began to give way to the night sky. He could see some tree limbs.

“I’m okay,” he gasped.

Now Matt’s voice was above him, while his shoulder was being tucked into his arm sling properly. He could finally make out Matt’s face. He looked to be stunned, as if in shock.

“Are you okay?” Nick said, then coughed.

“Yeah, I was down against the ground already.”

Nick forced himself up to see the remnants of the cabin which stood there in front of him just moments earlier. Sirens were blaring from different directions. Flames began to lick the nearby treetops threatening to turn into a forest fire.

Matt pulled Nick to his feet.

“C’mon,” Matt said, his expression changed. He seemed to suddenly remember something. A trace of distress showed in his eyes. “We have to find Jennifer and Stevie.”

Matt raced across the street while Nick stumbled behind him, trying to keep up. He passed a soldier on the ground, writhing in pain, holding his stomach. When he bent down to help, the soldier waved him off.

“Go. Help the others,” the soldier said. “I’ll be fine.”

Nick was strong enough to break into a gallop around the west side of the cabin. He saw a SWAT team member carrying a soldier away from the flames, but no Steele or Stevie.

Flashing lights illuminated the forest while Nick maneuvered around debris scattered across the ground; chunks of wood and drywall mixed with shoes and furniture. He stepped over a stainless steel sink and landed on a human arm. Burning embers floated all around him like black snow.

While his vision blurred from the smoke, Nick heard his name, but couldn’t find the source. He saw Matt to his right, behind the cabin already, searching frantically for survivors.

“Nick,” a voice called to his left.

Tommy was in the woods, kneeling over a body. A female body.

Nick ran over and saw it was Jennifer Steele flat on the ground. Tommy had his hand on her shoulder, but there weren’t any obvious wounds.

“I’m fine,” Jennifer yelled and fought to get up, but Tommy kept her pinned to the ground.

“Not a chance,” Tommy said. “I saw you flying like a bird. You’re staying flat on your back until the medics get here with a stretcher.

“Where’s Stevie?” Nick asked.

Tommy pointed over his left shoulder. In the darkness, Stevie sat up against a tree taking deep breathes. A mixture of flashing lights and flickering flames danced over his torso.

Stevie held up a hand. “I’m okay,” he said.

Matt found them and rushed next to Steele. He inspected her body while she took his hand.

She glanced at Tommy and said, “He’s forcing me to stay still.”

Matt looked at Tommy with a question on his face.

“She’s hurt,” Tommy said. “She’s trying to be tough like the rest of the boys, but she’s hurting and I’m not going to let her make it worse by trying to shake it off like it’s nothing.”

“But it is nothing,” Steele uttered.

Matt brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Tommy’s right. You stay put.”

Sid Coleman, head of the FBI’s SWAT team ran up to Nick and pushed him to the ground.

“You said these weren’t suicide terrorists!” Coleman blasted. He kicked Nick in the legs while he tried to get up with one good arm. “I lost good men in there.” Coleman continued his assault until Matt jumped up and grabbed the agent and pulled him away.

Spittle came flying out of Coleman’s mouth as he went on, “This was supposed to be a combat mission, not suicide. That’s why I sent my men in there!”

Matt was bigger than the man, but adrenalin kept Coleman from being completely contained. A nearby soldier came over and helped Matt keep the man under control.

“It wasn’t suicide,” Nick said, finally getting to his feet. “They’re not religious zealots.”

Coleman pointed to the ruins next to them. “Then what the fuck is that?”

“They didn’t do it,” Matt yelled at Coleman. He looked over at Nick and seemed to have it figured out already.

“Then who?” demanded the SWAT team leader.

It took Nick a moment to clear it up, his head full of grief and pills. “Barzani,” he finally said, then saw Matt nodding back at him.

“Barzani?” Coleman said. “But I thought … What are you saying? He committed suicide and took his men with him?”

Nick shook his head. “I don’t know how, but he knew we were coming and left his men behind. He’s the one who detonated the bomb.”

“So all this for nothing,” Coleman spat at him. He waved his hand out in a half-circle. “Barzani is still out there?”

Then Nick felt the vibration in his pants pocket and knew his answers were a button away. He walked into the nearby woods, passing Steele being placed on a stretcher. Once he’d gotten twenty feet into the trees, he braved a look at his phone display. “Luke Fletcher.”

Nick’s hand trembled as his thumb hovered over the “Talk” button.

He pushed the button and placed the phone to his ear.

“You really did not think I was dead, did you?” came the low growling voice.

Nick said nothing.

“There’s less than eighteen hours before your President’s speech. I hope for your sake there’s a troop removal.”

“And I hope for your sake, I don’t find you before then.” Nick seethed. He realized he was trembling out of fury rather than fear. His grip tightened around the phone. “Because when I get you I’m going to split your gut open and slice up your liver to feed the neighborhood cats.”

There was levity in Barzani’s tone now. “Agent Bracco, really, is that necessary? We are all professionals here.”