G Hopf - The End

With Dan’s vehicle in the lead; Gordon and Jimmy were second followed by Eric and Jerrod. They had slowed their speed considerably; to Gordon it felt like they were barely crawling up the hill.

“Why is he going so slow?” Gordon asked, curious as to why they were going unusually slow.

“I don’t know why, we’re still a good mile from our destination,” Jimmy said to Gordon’s question.

They were slowly weaving around abandoned cars, the smoke plumes were getting closer and closer. Gordon noticed he hadn’t seen anyone walking since they turned onto Black Mountain Road. The whole area made him feel uneasy. Gordon was beginning to have a sense of déjà-vu from Fallujah. Up ahead he saw movement, some people were standing on a pedestrian. Gordon leaned forward as if getting a few inches closer to the windshield would help him see better.

“What are they-?” he asked but was interrupted when Dan’s car veered off the road and sped off.

“What the fuck?” Gordon yelled as he watched Dan’s car accelerate down Longridge Road.

When he put his attention back to the people on the bridge he knew then they were Villistas and that they had been led into an ambush.

“Turn around now!” he yelled at Jimmy.

But before Jimmy could make the turn, a rocket-propelled grenade exploded in front of them on the street. The explosion threw asphalt and debris onto the truck. Gordon couldn’t see anything. The shock of the explosion made Jimmy hit the accelerator. Blinded by the blast and smoke, Jimmy jerked the truck hard to the left and hit the median curb.

“Go, go, go!” Gordon yelled.

Gunfire began to rain down on them. Gordon could hear the bings and bangs of the truck being hit. Jimmy hit the accelerator again and jumped the curb. Crossing over to the north-bound lane was difficult but they cleared the median. As he made the turn to head north, another rocket hit the bed of the truck. The force of the blast threw Gordon and Jimmy into the dash of the truck.

“It won’t move, the truck won’t move!” Jimmy screamed in anger.

“Get out! We have to make a run for it!” Gordon opened the door and stepped out with his M-4 ready. He placed it in his shoulder as soon as both feet met the pavement, turned and immediately started to fire upon the people on the bridge.

“Jimmy, let’s fucking go!” Gordon commanded, not looking away from the targets he was engaging.

“My door won’t open!” Jimmy cried out in a panic.

Gunfire was now coming from both sides of the street and the bridge. Gordon managed to get a few shots off before he felt the sharp burning pain in his side.

“Damn it!” he screamed in pain. “They shot me!”

He turned to locate the shooters on his left in the houses but he could not see anyone. All he could hear was the cracking of gunfire and whizzing of bullets as they passed by him.

“Jimmy, come on!”

Jimmy stopped his futile attempt of opening the driver’s door and crawled across the bench seat and came out the passenger side. Jimmy had a pistol in his hand and immediately started to shoot at the people on the bridge.

“Where is Jerrod?” Jimmy asked while shooting.

“Go take cover behind the truck!” Gordon commanded, not answering Jimmy’s question.

The slide on Jimmy’s pistol locked to the rear. “Damn it! I’m out of bullets!”

Gordon, using his left hand reached in his pocket and handed Jimmy another fully loaded magazine. Jimmy took it and reloaded quickly. Gordon had managed even though wounded to hit a few of the Villistas. The gunfire was coming from everywhere now; Gordon didn’t know who to engage because there were so many.

“Jimmy, I’ll cover you. Run!”

Jimmy listened this time and started to run north down the street, away from the gunfire.

Gordon saw more men on the bridge, reinforcements were arriving.

With all the confusion, he had lost track of where Eric and Jerrod had gone. He slowly started to walk backwards, still shooting as he went. Feeling the warm blood flowing down his side was not a welcoming sign. The pain was also increasing in intensity. Reaching in his cargo pocket he grabbed another rifle magazine and pulled it out. The second bullet hitting him made him drop it. The impact felt like someone had smacked him with a bat. His left arm went limp.

Gordon started to think to himself, Is this it? Is this how I go out? What about my family?

More determined than before, he tactically transitioned to his pistol. His rifle lay slung to his chest. Taking aim he managed to shoot a couple more Villistas.

Like the 7 thCavalry, Jerrod and Eric came across the median about 20 feet in front of him. Eric was hanging outside of the car with his rifle taking shots. Jerrod turned the wheel hard left and accelerated just as another rocket came screaming in from the bridge and smashed into Jerrod’s car. The rear of the car exploded, throwing Eric from the car before it flipped over onto its hood.

Gordon could see Jerrod was still in the car. He started to make his way to the car, but bullets rained down around him. Determined, Gordon pressed forward in an attempt to reach Jerrod. As he marched toward Jerrod he emptied his pistol. Gordon thrust the pistol under his armpit and pressed the magazine release. The empty magazine dropped to the ground with a clang. As he reached for another magazine, the third and final impact did its job. The force of the shot took him to the ground. It struck him just below the collar bone.

As he laid on the hard pavement the trauma from the three shots were taking a toll. His vision began to get blurry and vertigo set in. Looking to his left he saw Jerrod; his now dead body was crushed under the weight of the car. Gordon could not see Eric through the heavy black smoke coming from Jerrod’s burning car. The gunfire now seemed distant as his thoughts drifted to his wife Samantha and then to his two children. He thought about how he would miss them, their little laughs, and their sweet and gentle hugs. Gordon tried to move, but the weakness from the blood loss prevented it. Feeling what he called the darkness, he struggled to stay awake. Now the sounds around him seemed to go away. All he could hear was his shallow breathing. More thoughts came of his children. He loved them so much; he longed to be in his family’s arms. He longed to kiss and hold his wife. As his breathing became shallower; the tears began to fall down the sides of his face. Visions of his family without him took over and he knew the darkness was coming. If he could just keep thinking about them, the darkness wouldn’t come. Gordon managed to bring his right arm to his neck. Grabbing the chain he had around it, he pulled the necklace out from underneath his shirt. Attached to the chain was a sterling silver compass. Samantha had given this to him years ago when they were dating. When she gave it to him, she told him that it would always show him the way home. Holding it tightly, he openly cried. Transporting himself there, he could see her like she was then, her long blonde hair and pouty lips, the doe eyes and sweet smell. Tears ran down his cheeks as he could feel the darkness coming over him. As he slipped away he muttered softly, “I love you.”

Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado

Conner was covered in dripping sweat as he fumbled with his keys to his room. His new routine of running at the gym was paying off; he was leaning up and reliving some stress. While the office of president came with huge responsibilities it offered many luxuries that most did not have any more. So before each daily run, Conner would say a small prayer acknowledging his gratefulness for his and Julia’s safety.

Passing his bedroom, he saw Julia sitting on the edge of the bed. Her seclusion had become common place since the death of their son, but something seemed different. He stopped what he was doing and went into room.