Chapter 6
Chapter 6 On The Run (General sexy)345Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvrFoPKvLBM
There is a sack over my head to prevent me from seeing where I'm being transported. The place I was being held until now was always dark other than a cheap pot lamp in the middle of the holding cell.
They made sure to feed me enough to survive but not enough to be at my full strength. My guess is that I was being held at a temporary place to weaken me before taking me long distance. They are being extremely careful and I can't imagine why I'm worth the trouble.
They may have used the sack to take away my vision, but I still have my other senses. I can hear the sound of a helicopter which means I'm being transported by air. That seems risky to go by air, the easiest thing to find. My guess is they have to cross ocean or they are just stupid. I'm likely being taken to Germany.
The air is very damp and the breeze is cool. It either just finished raining or it's about to start.
We are already in the air by the sounds of it. I have to figure a way out before we get over the ocean.
My hands are zip tied together in front of me. Generally, hands are bound behind people, this tells me they aren't worried about me trying anything.
"Why don't you guys just kill me?" I asked.
"I have better plans for you," said the bad Wetherby.
"Like what?" I asked.
"You will see soon enough," said Wetherby.
"You don't seem too worried about me. Considering you had my hands bound in front of me," I said.
"You take me as a fool, fucking idiot. I want your hands right where I can see them," said Wetherby.
I see a bright flash that flashed through the sack and less than a second later a loud crash of thunder. I can feel the rain pelting the top of the helicopter through my seat.
"Sir. We are in the middle of a bad storm. We should land and wait it out to be safe," said a voice.
"To be safe? You think its safer to give an ex-navy seal a prime opportunity to escape? Your a mindless soldier who should keep his mouth shut unless you know what you're talking about. As long as we are in the air, he can't run. Now get out of my sight," said Wetherby angerly.
"Yes sir," said the voice.
The rain picks up and the sound of thunder echoes every few seconds. The helicopter is swaying trying to stay steady.
I feel my seat and I think I know the type of helicopter this is. It feels like the back of a Sikorsky CH-37. The back bench can hold about four people on it and by the feel of it, it's just me and Wetherby on this side.
If I remember correctly the button to open the side doors should be on the left side of the back bench on the wall. Wetherby's voice came from my right so there shouldn't be anyone between me and the button. There should also be parachutes under every seat.
I feel under my seat with my feet and feel the parachute backpack.
"You won't be needing that," said Wetherby. "You move the parachute somewhere away from our not so smart friend."
Wetherby puts his head right beside my ear and says, "I'm smarter then you think."
The person that was ordered to remove the parachute under me brushes the bag against my leg and I figure now or never.
I swing my head where I think Wetherby is and make solid contact on what feels like his head. I quickly elbow the wall to my left in hopes I hit the button. I feel the button click and hear the side door open. I dart forwards and tackle the man in front of me who is holding the parachute out of the helicopter. All this took me about 2.5 seconds, I must be getting old.
Me and the person are falling at an increasing rate both holding onto the parachute. I knee around hoping to hit him and I do. The person lets go and screams as I take the only thing that could save his life.
The sack is still on my head so I can't see how close I am to the ground. I quickly think over when to pull the parachute.
If I pull it and I'm really high up then they will have plenty of time to find and wait for me to land right on them. However, If I wait too long I join the other guy. Maybe if I can see it would help.
I want to pull the sack off my head but I have no free hand to do so. My hands are still bound and I have to hold the parachute tightly. I decide to pull the parachute and my speed reduced drastically. Its very windy and I'm being thrown around in the crazy storm. I hold on with all my might.
The sack flew off my head and I look around quickly. I have about seven seconds before hitting ground give or take. A thick dark storm cloud shields the sun as far as the eye can see. The heavy rain is toying with my parachutes form and the wind is assisting it. My speed is still dangerously high.
I roll when I hit the ground to spread the impact preventing major damage. My right leg got the most of it but i’ll live. I landed in long, thick, soaked grass that got every part of my body wet. I'm surrounded by trees and I look for the other guy, he should have some useful equipment.
I find the mangled body and I search it with my hands still bound. I find a zippo lighter and pistol with no spare clips. I hear the helicopter getting closer but can't see it. I sprint away from the sound.
After 10 minutes of running, I stop and think. I don't hear the helicopter anymore so its either landed or went the wrong way. My guess is there looking for me on foot, but I should have enough time to get this zip tie off my hands.
I'll try something I learned in the Seals. I untie my boot laces then tie them to each other in the space between my wrist and the zip tie. I lay on my back on the cold wet ground and start making a peddling motion. If I do this right the friction of my lace should cut the zip tie.
After half a minute the zip tie snaps off my wrists. I was surprised it worked considering its been about 10 years since I tried that.
I take the zip tie remains and hide them under a rock. Less evidence for them the better.
I start to run again. I'm getting colder and wetter by the second. The thunder above my head and the sound of heavy rain on the earth's surface is all I can hear. I'm not worried about being herd, but the wet muddy ground hides no footstep.
I need a place to shelter me from the storm. Hypothermia is something I would like to avoid. I'm weak enough as it is due to minimum food.
I stop for a quick rest. The storm has only worsened and I can feel my core temperature lowering. I need to find shelter ASAP.
It is fairly dark and its hard to see. I believe I see the silhouette of a small structure. It's definitely not natural but its too small to be a house.
I approach the structure and it is confirmed man-made. It's a tree house, a familiar one I might add.
I climb up the rope ladder and open the door to the tree house. I pull the ladder up so no one can easily get up here. I shut the door behind me and the room is pitch black.
I push in the lock in the door nob to lock the door and the lights turn on instead.
This brings back great memories. It must have been like 20 years since I was in here last. I now know exactly where I am. Just an hour walk from my old house. I wonder if my dad is still there.
I chuckle to my self from the irony. My father told me, my little brother and my nephew, that this treehouse would save one of us someday. We all thought it was just father being crazy. But here I am, thankful my dad was such a smart guy.
This place has everything. A place to hang my clothes to dry, a bed, it's completely insulated so its warm in here and no light shines through the cracks in the door or anything. I should be safe enough to have a sleep while my clothes dry. I hope the storm is gone by the time I wake up. I can't sleep too long though, they will search for me once the storm is over.
----
I open my eyes after a good nights sleep. I put my clothes that are now dry back on. I make sure I still have the pistol and I do. Then I leave the tree house and make my way to my old home. It's a nice sunny day outside.
When I reach the bottom of the rope ladder I hear a stick snap not too far from me. I take the ladder and throw it up on a tree so it either gives me time when they climb the tree or they don't bother looking. Either way is good for me. As far as they know. at the moment I still have my hands bound, is suffering from hyperthermia, and had no sleep.
I start to quietly but quickly make my way to my old house. I'm pretty sure there are people nearby, not good ones.
*sound of a quick burst of a gun*
I see the dirt in front of me move from the bullets. They have found me and I sprint as quickly as possible.
I glance back and see a couple Germans about 125 meters away. They shouldn't have given away their position at that distance without long-range weapons.
I keep sprinting and glancing back and I no longer see the Germans. I can't slow down though or they will catch up.
I can't make a stand with a pistol with 1 clip. I have to make it to my old home and hope my dad hasn't sold the place yet. There is certainly weapons there if it wasn't sold.
The ground is wet and soft making it impossible to cover my tracks.
I come across a stream that is higher then I remember. This is the size of a small river now. I guess the storm raised it. This is a perfect chance to try throw them off my trail.
I purposely make easy to see tracks leading up to the river and get in the river. I walk to the other side and put my right foot on a really muddy part of the side. I drag my foot down to make it seem like I slipped getting up. I then make a path of footprints in front of that so it looks like I'm going that way.
I carefully walk backwards into the same prints I made leaning my weight forward so the print doesn't look like I walked back. I get back into the river without showing any tracks coming back down here. I will now walk with the water and leave basically no trail. Even the best trackers find it basically impossible to find tracks in water. The stream isn't clear, to begin with so I'm not leaving a dirty water trail either.
If I did this right. My fake tracks should have them search for me on land once the tracks end, or at least buy me some time. I learned this trick in the seals back in the day.
I continue down the river. From the knees down I'm under the freezing cold water. My legs are starting to feel numb. I'll have to get out of the water soon to avoid hyperthermia.
I walk in the water for about 10 more minutes then get out. My body is shaking and my legs feel brittle. I run to raise my core temperature and to make better time.
After running for 15 minutes I see it. The large house in the middle of the woods. My old home. The numbness in my legs is slowly fading as I walk to the house.
I look for lights in the windows and see nothing, no sign of life. Which is a good sign. Either there is no one home or my dad is there. My dad is completely blind and if I saw lights on id know someone else lives there.
Best case scenario the old man recently moved back to society but kept the property. That way I don't have to worry about him getting hurt in the Germans search for me and that would mean there would still be guns in there.
Worst case scenario, he died and the house was cleaned out and abandoned. I regretfully haven't talked or heard anything from him in about 2 years. I have been really busy, as if that is an excuse to be a shit son.
I walk up the 3 steps on the porch and approach the door. I twist the door nob and it's not locked. I open the door and take one step into my childhood house. Brings back good memories.
"Your trespassing. I'll give you three seconds to leave before I kill you," said my father pointing a shotgun at me.
"Dad," I said.
"Sam?" asked my dad lowering the gun.
"It's me, dad," I said.
My dad drops the shotgun and walks up to me and gives me a big hug. I'm stunned he seems so happy considering how bad of a son I've been.
"I'm sorry I haven't been in touch lately dad," I said.
"Sam, I know why you stopped calling. I know you left the seals. And I know you think I would be ashamed of you because of that. But I need you to know this. I don't want you to follow in my footsteps, I don't want you to be like me. Walk your own path, be BETTER than me," said my dad who would likely be crying if his eyes weren't covered in bandages.
"You always told your friends about how proud you were that I was a navy seal. That your son was best of the best," I said.
"Now I get to tell them my son is a big shot general in the NASF. That sounds better to me. I'm more proud of you now than ever. You have all the training of a seal and you can take care of your self like me. But what I couldn't do is be responsible for large amounts of people like you Sam," said my dad.
I hug him tighter and ask, "Hows Tony?"
"Tony is great. He saw the kind of man you have become and you know how he always looked up to you. He actually left the seals and joined the NASF recently. You want to know what he said to me?" asked my dad.
"Of course," I said.
"He said. grandpa, I'm going to become uncle sams right-hand man someday and become a great leader just like him. But different," said my dad.
"I must have been captured before he joined. Which reminds me. I'm being hunted, where are the guns?" I asked.
"Feds came and told me I couldn't have them," said my father softly.
"You stashed them didn't you," I said.
"You know me well son. There is a trap door in the basement under the rug. Got everything we need," said my dad.
"Everything I, need. You're going to hide upstairs dad," I said walking downstairs.
"Negative," said my dad.
"Dad. Your 64 years old, and blind. You can't fight," I said.
"Do you remember that this house is built for me? The floor is made of special material that is weight sensitive. I can feel everything that you can see. Over the years I've gotten good enough to even fight hand to hand. I can read punches and kicks through your shifts in weight on the floor," said my dad.
"Dad. You cant," I said.
"You hurt your left leg minorly, You're favouring your right leg. Does that mean you can't fight?" asked my dad.
"Limping and being blind are not the same," I said.
"We are former navy seals, Sam. An organization built on the belief that if your good enough, no barrier can stop us. And Sam?" Asked my father.
"Yes?" I replied.
"Remember that I was the original combat trainer for the navy seals and I was known to the world as Reaper. I could be blind and def with 2 arms behind my back and still kill a man," said my dad.
I move the rug off the trap door and open it. It's basically just a large closet in the ground with enough weapons in it to arm a small country. I pull out a trench gun and hold it in front of my dad wondering if he is as good as he says.
My dad fluently grabs the trench gun out of my hand and cocks it. I will admit I'm pretty impressed. If I didn't know my dad I would swear he could see.
"How many soldiers are hunting you sam? Should I have extra shells?" asked my dad.
"I have no idea. It would be better to have it and not need it, then to need it and not have it," I said handing my dad a belt of shotgun shells.
He takes the belt and puts it around his waist. The belt also has a large hunting knife in it.
I grab a Thompson for myself and 5 spare clips. I also grab a pistol and a diving knife then place them in the belt.
"Whats the plan dad?" I asked.
"You tell me... general," said my father smiling while saluting me.
I get a great feeling from that short statement. My dad truly trusts and respects me and most importantly, acknowledges me as more than his young son. It is strange that I'm feeling this for the first time at my age.
"Do you still have those prototypes?" I asked.
"Yes. They will be in the lower right side of the stash. So that's your plan ehy?" asked my dad.
"Yes. You can shut off the power of the whole house still right?" I asked.
"That's my ultimate defence. Making them see what I see. Every now and then some people will come in and try to rob an old man. But I keep in good shape and I can feel everything within my house. This light trick made a lot of things easier for me," said my dad.
I dig deep in the stash and I pull out the night vision prototypes.
"Remember that they don't work in complete darkness," said my dad.
"Oh yea. Shit," I said.
"I can dim all the lights in the house the same way I turn them off. Ill just dim it all the way without being off," said my dad
"Its been awhile. I can't remember how dim it actually goes," I said.
"Well let's see," said my dad walking up to a control panel on the wall.
My dad moves a switch and the lights go basically out.
"Wow. This is darker then moonlight. I can't see anything really," I said.
"You can likely see movement and silhouettes if you're looking very hard. We will still have to be careful," said my dad.
I put on the night vision goggles and test it out. I can see fairly well now.
"Hows it working?" asked my dad.
"Good," I said.
"Good. Now let's go seal all the windows. I don't want any extra light," said my dad.
Me and my dad go around the house and seal all the windows. All the windows have a sliding metal sheet built for the purpose of keeping everything out. Including light.
"Now for the next part of the plan. I think its best if we try do this quietly without the guns. Once we shoot they will see the flashes and shoot back at us. You may be able to dodge a punch. But the pull of a trigger is pretty subtle. Not to mention that we are both hand to hand experts with the ability of seeing them better then they can see us," I said.
"Good strategy Sam. Now we should discuss what the Hell is going on. Who are you running from? How long has it been since you have eaten or drank anything?" asked my dad.
"Long story that should wait for another day. And for the food part, it’s been well over 24 hours," I said.
"You should eat and drink. I don't really know whats going on but I'm guessing you just escaped capture. They likely only feed you the bare minimum, if they were smart," said my dad.
"They have only been giving me just enough to keep me alive. I escaped yesterday and haven't had food since the day before yesterday," I said.
"Eat Sam," said my dad.
I go downstairs with my father and go to the kitchen. I open the fridge and see a shit tone of dried meat. I take out a bag of the dried meat and start eating. My dad gives me a 1-litre bottle of water and I take a big swig of water.
"Thanks, dad," I said.
"Anytime Sam," said my dad.
I finish the bag of meat and the 1 litre of water.
"Sam," said my dad.
"Yes?" I responded.
"When you were captured. Did they beat you? Torture you? Is your body full of cuts and bruises? I don't know what to picture," asked my dad.
I think to myself whether I want my dad to know that I was interrogated for a long time. Do I want my dad to know that I'm covered with scars? I've always been honest with my dad, but this time for his sake, I think I will lie.
"Sam, the honest truth," said my dad softly not letting me respond.
I look at my dad and say nothing.
"The downside to losing my sight is I can't see the faces of those I love. And I can no longer see a mans story by looking into his eyes. Reading their facial expressions, their body language," said my dad.
"I'm fine dad," I said.
"Over the years I've learned to use my other senses. Now I can hear a mans story through the tone in their voice, feel their past through their movements and speed," said my dad.
I'm starting to feel that my dad is hinting that he knows I just lied to him.
"I don't know what to say, dad," I said hoping that he will get the hint.
My dad lets off a subtle sigh and says, "is there any sign of hostiles yet Sam?"
I take off the prototype and open the window by the door just enough to see through it and I see nothing. I walk to the back door and do the same thing but this time I see hostiles about 150 meters from the house. I put the prototype back on and shut the windows.
"5 hostiles, 150 meters, back door," I said.
"Only 5 ehy?" said my dad with some concern to his voice.
"So far, I will cover the back door. You cover the front in case they swing around. Be quiet and still, if they think no one is home they may just move on," I said.
"They will see the windows. Any man with eyes would see this house and know that someone is hiding something or someone. There military grade metal sheets on the windows," Laughed my dad
"Positions," I whispered.
"Alright," said my dad walking to the front door which is out of my sight.
I hide in the room next to the back door so the light from outside won't give me away. I'm in the corner closest to the room entrance.
I hold my dive knife tightly and wait patiently.
---
After about 10 minutes of waiting, I hear aggressive knocking at the front door. I was really hoping they wouldn't go to my dad's side. I can't leave this door to go help him, I guess my dad is going to see some action.
I hear the front door being kicked open and I listen for details. I can't hear much as far as footsteps go so they must be taking it slow.
---
I'm waiting to hear a body drop, gunshots, a yell, anything. It's completely silent. I peak into the back door room and see nothing.
"Sam," said my father right behind me making me jump.
"What happened?" I asked confusingly.
"They're dead," said my dad.
I walk around my dad's side of the house and see 7 dead Germans.
"But how? I heard nothing?" I asked.
"Do you know why I was called reaper?" asked my dad.
"You were that good," I said.
"Sort of. There was some superstition lore behind it. I wasn't always a trainer in the navy seals. In my younger days I was an assassin, the best assassin. I killed like death himself. They say only the one I'm after is the only one that will see me. And only just before they die. They say I have control over time itself because one second your with 4 comrades walking into a room. The next your 4 comrades are dead on the ground without a sound or trace," said my dad.
"Have you ever failed an assignment?" I asked.
My dad smiles and says "just one,"
ns 15.158.61.20da2
