Trigger Break (standard:action, 2771 words)
Author: Nightfyre	Added: Mar 05 2003	Views/Reads: 4235/2499	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Two Marines take advantage of an opportunity, only to be taken advantage of...

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

lamp shattering in the next room. Immediately Rocio knew something was 
wrong. After making sure she wouldn't slip on the wet floor, she tore 
the loose towel rack from the wall and waited behind the door. 

It flew open, and Rocio kicked it closed before the point man could plow
through. The first attacker was knocked to the floor, a severe gash in 
his forehead. The other three muscled through, decked out with their 
blue LAPD jackets and attack rifles, and charged their objective. 

The second man, introduced Rocio's nose to the stock of his rifle,
thrusting it in her face with riveting quickness. I guess these guys 
aren't going to ask for tea and crumpets, she thought between 
expletives. She was down, she was bleeding, and the blow ejected her 
only means of resistance from her hand. It was only a matter of time 
before Rocio realized she could not take out three two hundred pound 
men, and she was taken into custody. 

--------------------------------------------------- 

“You know, you could have simply asked us. You didn't have to risk your
men's lives. That was stupid. What was the whole purpose of busting 
into the place and making a huge scene with this whole ordeal?” Rocio 
said, obviously agitated at the memory. “There had been a lot of police 
activity in your neighborhood around that time. We figured it would be 
low key if we made the whole thing look like a bust. Nobody would think 
anything of it, and your mission would continue to be low profile. Do 
you understand?” Rocio gave a slight nod of agreement. 

“What happened after you were taken under arrest?” 

“We knew something was up when your guys skipped the formalities.” 

“How do you mean?” 

----------------------------------------------- 

By the time they reached the station, John and Rocio went from totally
aggressive to cautious and defensive. They were taken past booking, 
directly to a questioning room, where they were left to sweat. 

“What's going on here?” Rocio asked in confusion. One glance at her
friend and she knew exactly what he was doing. 

John was scrutinizing the room like an art critic, searching for hidden
microphones, cameras, anything that could be used for surveillance, 
like they did in the Middle East prisons. Both John and Rocio knew the 
police would not leave them alone without taking measures to watch 
them. The events of the past half hour only verified their conclusion. 
The room was extremely simple. Two chairs on each side of a bolted 
table. The table was solid and there were no visible blemishes on the 
walls. An offending stench of brass almost nausiated the two. 

There had to be something. Rocio found it. “.El vidrio!”. 

Behind them was a thick sheet of glass in the wall. At first glance, it
appeared insignificant. These two knew otherwise: the glass was 
one-sided. Still in restraints, John stood up and backed himself into 
the corner, out of any field of vision. 

Before he could fully analyze their surroundings, the door opened and
John casually returned to his seat. “John, Rocio. Lieutenant Clarke, 
CIA.” What the hell? What was the CIA doing here, Rocio questioned to 
herself. “I hope we didn't alarm you.” John and Rocio remained 
stone-cold motionless. “Truth is, we need to ask for your help. It's a 
serious assignment, offering $60,000 upon its completion.” 

“Then why don't you display some trust and take these cuffs off?” The
lieutenant did so without hesitation. To the lesser man, the gesture 
would have scored points for the official. John's guard, on the other 
hand, went up. 

“What kind of ‘assignment' are you talking about?” Rocio questioned,
playing along. “Do either of you remember Major Hemns?” Major Hemns? 
Jesus! It's been a long time since I've heard that name! 

“Vaguely. What about him?” 

“Do you remember what happened in June, 1984 involving Hemns?” 

“Not offhand,” John responded. A well used lie - they knew exactly what
happened with the Major. John's squad had infiltrated a prime 
objective, a small camp of Middle Eastern extremists. Rocio's medical 
unit was on standby, just four minutes away. Things went wrong. 

Really wrong. 

The entire camp was a trap. Claymore anti-personell mines were spread
around the perimeter like a sower's seeds. Doors were rigged with 
grenades and tripwires. Crude designs, but enough to wipe out 11 of 
John's 14 men. John and his other two surviving platoon mates 
surrendered, only to spend 15 months in a military dungeon. Major Hemns 
served as the tactical commander for that mission. Rumors spread that 
he tipped off the extremists about the attack three days before it 
commenced, just enough time to set up a large scale ambush. These 
rumors were strongly confirmed when Major Hemns dropped his headset and 
walked out as John requested immediate extraction from the camp. 

“He went UA after he left that command booth,” Agent Clarke informed
them. 

“Unauthorized abscence, never to be found again.” A long pause followed
for effect, a very long pause. John did not move. “Until now.” 

The two ex-Marines knew what this man was about to ask them. “You know
the military's policy concerning treason, correct?” They didn't even 
have to answer. “We have a target area, a time, and a nest 
approximately 400 yards away. Along with access to any weapon you would 
like to complete the objective.” 

----------------------------------------------------- 

“That is what you were told?” 

“Exactly. Lt. Clarke wanted us to kill Major Hemns. He made an
outrageous offering. This guy put the world on the table and said ‘It's 
yours. All for just one trigger break,'” Rocio explained. 

“If John was the one with trigger time, how did you get involved in the
situation?” Finally, an intelligent question. 

“My med unit worked with his squad many times. We worked well together.
That's what this agent said. We had a ‘history of teamwork'; those were 
his words. My guess is he just wanted someone to keep an eye on John; 
make sure he followed through with the mission.” 

“John accepted the opportunity, correct? This is when you received the
money and weapons. Is this correct?” 

“Yeah. We were given a location and a time. He also told us where they
had set up our nest to shoot from.” 

“Did you investigate this area?” 

“Of course. We had four days before trigger break. We didn't waste one
second of it. That afternoon, about 4:30, we went up to the nest and 
got things ready.” 

“Did things run smoothly?” 

“Yeah. That is, until we got visual contact.” 

----------------------------------------------------- 

The nest was a room in a high-rise office building, 32 floors up. Their
target would be in a 28th floor apartment two blocks away. Painted 
completely white, the area was bare with only a few boards of drywall 
lying against two of the room's four pillars. The room was extremely 
new; Rocio could still smell the fresh paint. 

Rocio set up an awning outside the window while John stashed his rifle.
They would use it as a backdrop to conceal the rifle from view, should 
the muzzle stray over the windowsill. 

“Give me an ETA, Rocio.” 

“We've got just over an hour. Did you notice any shadows coming up
here?” 

“No. Nobody took time enough to smile, let alone get suspicious. Ah, Los
Angeles. Gotta love it.” 

“Right.” 

The two snipers spent the rest of the lag time in silence. Rocio could
tell what her friend was thinking every minute as he caressed the case 
of his weapon. There was no hiding the emotion that overwhelmed him at 
this opportunity. Betrayal was a serious offense to an infantry Marine, 
especially when their life is at stake. He had spent a long, ugly time 
in that prison. She couldn't blame him for savoring the opportunity to 
shoot Hemns. She just prayed he would do it for the right reasons, not 
for his reasons. 

“Lights on,” Rocio called, coming out of her trance. John, rifle
assembled and ready, took a look through the spotter sights. 

“Looks good.” They continued analyzing the shot when Rocio realized
something. “Damn, this sun. I can't figure out the wind velocity. Can 
you see through the glass well enough?” 

“It's not bad. We don't have a huge time window, though. Once the sun
hits that glass, the target walks. I'd never be able to hit him.” 

“Don't look now, John, but your friend is getting comfortable by that
window.” Nice suit, (easily $900), antique chair. He even comes home to 
a glass of Scotch and a view of downtown Los Angeles. Pretty high class 
for a lowlife bastard like him, John snorted to himself.. 

“One click left for windage.” 

John adjusted his sight and took a look. This is too easy, he thought.
The major was sitting in his chair, so John took extra time to settle 
himself. Safety off, hands comfortable. His finger steadily slid from 
the trigger guard to the trigger itself. Concentrate on breathing. In, 
out. The two partners began to harmonize in their patterns. 

Slowly, in, out. 

The target showed no movement. 

No way you live. You will never double-cross one of your men again. 

Against the rules of her training, Rocio glanced at her friend. Pull the
trigger, she silently demanded. She noticed him trying to settle his 
finger, constantly flexing as though it didn't feel comfortable on a 
trigger anymore. The blinking, the extraneous finger movement, the 
quick sniffles of breath. Pull the goddamn trigger! 

John pulled away from his sight and drew the weapon back. 

“What's your problem? Another sixty seconds and the sun will be directly
on that window. Do it already!” John just set the rifle stock on the 
floor, apparently ready to let Hemns walk. Rocio got to her feet, 
furious that her shooter wasn't following through. “It's not worth it,” 
John said as he started to slowly rise. Rocio wasn't going to let this 
happen without putting her two cents in. Before her partner was 
completely standing, she planted a kick flush across the side of his 
head. 

The blow knocked John to the ground, stunning him just long enough to
get a hard boot to the ribcage. Rolling to his feet, he stood just 
quick enough to grab his spotter's hand before it connected with his 
collarbone. 

John grabbed Rocio's other hand before she could use it and overpowered
her. “Listen to me. Why do you think they asked us to do this?” 

“This guy threw you in a snake pit and then celebrated while your team
was being shot down. How could you pass up this chance?” Rocio pleaded. 


“They're setting us up. The CIA doesn't send civilians to kill traitors.
It's all a trap, Rocio. They want me to kill Hemns so they can bust me 
for being the military rebel and you for following me. They probably 
gave him body armor for protection.” 

Panting, Rocio finally saw the situation in perspective. “Oh my God. Why
would they give us all that money up front?” 

“One of two things would happen. We would shoot Hemns and get hammered
for that. Or we don't shoot Hemns. Then they kill us if we try to 
return the money or they kill us for disappearing with the money. Any 
way you look at it, they screwed us.” 

“You got a plan?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What happened that you let Major Hemns walk?” 

“We heard shadows before Hemns got to his room. Four of them. They
located our nest and attacked while we were setting up,” Rocio replied. 


“You were both able to survive?” 

“John had his sidearm and I had my throwing knives. It was just enough
to get us out of the situation alive.” 

“These men, why didn't we ever receive reports of their bodies being
found?” 

“I guess they weren't the only ones watching us. The others must have
cleaned up the mess. It makes sense; they wouldn't leave evidence that 
they assaulted two people with deadly weapons.” 

“Have you spoken to John since the incident, lieutenant? 

“No.” 

“Has he been in touch with you? Letters, phone calls, anything like
that?” 

“No. I haven't heard a peep from him. Sorry.” 

The investigators let out a deep sigh of frustration. They had no choice
but to admit defeat. This was one time when government had failed to 
get their man. They had trained their own target, and John used that 
training to outsmart them. In accordance with government policy, they 
would continue to search for the disappearing sniper, hoping to trip 
him up somewhere down the road. However, the United States military had 
spent a long time and a lot of money to train him. Now, they would have 
to try once again to destroy their own creation. 


Tweet