Ryan Westfield - Fighting Rough

But Max wasn’t paying attention to that aspect of his surroundings. His eyes were scanning the forest carefully, looking for any signs of the man.

Max was coming up from behind. Coming from the opposite direction the enemy would be expecting. Hopefully.

It was as much of a game of strategy and intelligence as anything else. Max had to outsmart the enemy in order to stay alive.

He walked slowly, bending his back, crouching, staying low to the ground.

He had his rifle out now. His hands and fingers were cold, but they’d work well enough.

Truthfully, he felt more comfortable with his Glock. But it wasn’t ideal for this sort of situation. Only the rifle could provide the range he’d need.

There was something up ahead, towards the line where the woods met the field. Max thought his eyes were playing tricks on him at first. Then he realized it was the man’s white winter coat simply creating a strange illusion. It was the hat that made him visible. A big, incredibly warm looking hat, like the kind the Russian soldiers wore in old movies. It was black, and stuck out from the white snowy background like a sore thumb.

Max stopped where he was, not wanting to make any more noise.

He put his eye to his rifle’s scope. The man was facing away from him, his own rifle pointed towards where Mandy was. He was definitely lying in wait. Max had been right to expect the man to be waiting for them rather than continue on.

Max took careful aim. The man’s right shoulder was in Max’s crosshairs. Hopefully, that’d be enough to immobilize him, and prevent him from using his rifle.

Max squeezed the trigger.

He’d hit him.

The man didn’t scream. He let off a strange grunt-like noise of pain, muffled by the snow and trees.

As long as Mandy stayed where she was, she’d be safe. After all, there was a chance the man could still get off a shot.

Max darted behind a tree trunk and waited. The man’s painful grunting continued, turning into an animal-like wail.

Max waited, then made his move. But not before getting his rifle back on his shoulder, and getting his Glock out and ready.

Max dashed towards the man, the Glock pointed directly at him.

“Don’t make a move,” Max shouted. He didn’t need to worry about others in the area overhearing him. He had no need to be quiet anymore. Hopefully.

The man had dropped his gun on the snow. He was clutching his shoulder. It’d been a good shot. Max had hit him right when he’d been aiming.

The man’s face was contorted in pain. But that didn’t stop Max from recognizing him. James had been right.

He was from the compound.

Max pointed his Glock right at the man’s face.

“One move and you’re dead,” said Max.

The man nodded his understanding.

“Any other weapons?”

The man shook his head.

“I’ve learned not to trust answers like that,” said Max, using his free hand to pat the man down.

Sure enough, there was a handgun tucked into the man’s waistband.

“They don’t issue holsters at the compound?” said Max. “They’ve sure got you outfitted well for the snow.”

The man said nothing.

“I need to know,” said Max, “why you’re here. Tell me the truth, and I’ll let you live.”

But Max was lying. He didn’t know if he could let the man live. He didn’t like playing this game, making a promise he couldn’t keep. But that was what the circumstances dictated. If he let him live, he’d head back to the compound and tell them everything he knew. That was a given.

“Why should I trust you?” said the man, a terrified expression on his face.

“You shouldn’t,” said Max. “But you don’t have any other choice.”

Max looked up to see Mandy coming out of the falling snow, her body slowly becoming visible as she emerged from what looked like a moving white curtain.

“You got him?”

Max nodded.

“Anyone else here?”

“Not that I can tell. I need you to keep a lookout, though.”

Mandy eyed the man, looking him up and down. “Your friend wasn’t as smart as you. But you weren’t smart enough.”

“He’s not my friend.”

“What’s your name?” said Max.

The man hesitated. But only for a moment. He glanced at Max’s Glock, and seemed to decide that he’d have a better chance of living if he answered the questions.

“Josh.”

“And you’re from the compound, the same one we escaped from?”

“You mean the same one you attacked?”

“Attacked?”

“You killed a lot of good men.”

“We didn’t have a choice. You tried to kill me, and you were going to keep our women kidnapped there forever.”

“That’s not the way I heard it.”

“Well you heard wrong,” said Max. “Those are the facts. Now what are you doing here?”

“Just going for a walk.”

Max moved fast, upper cutting Josh in the stomach with a solid punch. It gave him no pleasure to do it. But he needed answers. Real ones. He needed to show him he meant business.

Josh gasped for breath.

“Take your time catching your breath,” said Max. “But the next words out of your mouth better be something real, something useful. My suspicions are that you’re out here scouting our location, that you heard us on the radio, and want to come finish the job. But what doesn’t make sense to me is the motive. Aside from pure revenge…”

The seconds ticked by, and Josh hadn’t yet spoken.

“You’d better do as he says,” said Mandy. “You seem to think he’s a killer, but you don’t know the half of it.”

“And that is?” said Josh, a sarcastic twinkle in his eyes. He didn’t seem to take her seriously.

“That I’m a lot worse.” As she spoke the words, she pulled out her Mora knife. She leaned down swiftly, and pushed the tip of the knife against Josh’s throat. Hard enough to draw a single spot of blood, but not hard enough to do any serious damage. She held the knife there. “One wrong move, one wrong word, and I’ll thrust this knife so far into your throat that…” Her words trailed off, but the fire didn’t leave her eyes.

Max gave her a quizzical look. She hadn’t acted like this before. But he knew she’d been fighting with something inside herself. She’d hated the fact that she’d hesitated to kill when it had been necessary to save Max’s life.

It seemed she’d gotten over it, though. She’d shot the other man from the compound. And now she didn’t seem to hesitate to threaten real violence. And it wasn’t an empty threat.

Max just hoped she didn’t swing too far over to the other side. If she became a loose cannon, she’d just as much a danger to everyone if she was hesitant.

But it was Mandy he was thinking of. She was sensible and practical. It would take a lot for her to swing too far to the other side.

“Answer the question,” hissed Mandy.

“OK. I’m from the compound, and…”

Mandy pressed the knife a little harder into his throat. Just hard enough for some blood to come trickling out. She didn’t have the knife against his jugular, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous. “You already told us that,” she said.

“Mandy…” said Max, his tone warning her against going too far.

“Damn, lady,” said Josh. “Take that knife away from my throat and I’ll tell you.”

Max gave her a look.

“Fine,” she muttered.

She pulled the knife back, but kept it close to Josh, ready to strike at any moment.

“I’ve been instructed to find your position. You were right, Max. They heard you on the radio. But they don’t know the position of your camp.”

“It’s a lot of work just for revenge,” said Max. “What’s the end game?”