The same blurb from the first installment applies here. Glad people are reading it.
And thank you givelove1morechance for the review. Hope the rest of this meets your expectations.
Coming back from unconsciousness was a lot like surfacing from a near drowning experience. Having experienced both however didn't dull the pounding in my head when reality decided to check back in on me. The first thing I did was take a deep breath, pain hit me across my chest and in my shoulders, but it didn't feel like any ribs were cracked and both lungs were inflating properly. Getting old Brycen, I told myself, I didn't bounce back from a beating like I used to. Twenty seven wasn't old by society standards, but by SF standards I was a grandpa. I could breathe, that was a good starting point. I opened my eyes, but there was still nothing but darkness. I tried to reach for my face, but my arms were strapped firmly to my side. Testing my legs, I found they were similarly secured. I was laying down, that much I could gather. I wanted to laugh, but it would have been extremely inappropriate in this situation. I had just tried to do right by my squad and get us home early from the deployment. Afghanistan was sounding so much better right now.
And before I knew it my mind had shifted from my current situation to my squad. The four guys I last saw on that plane. Bane's voice came back to me "You die here, or you come with me". I wanted to believe he grabbed the rest of my team, but that didn't seem to be part of his plan. Harp's wife was going to kill me, hate me, slap me…all three probably. The Harper's just had their first kid, while we were in Afghanistan. Shana already hated me for keeping him away from that, like it was my call. I took the personal hits for the big Army, story of my life. Allen, Dimmick and Leslie, none of those guys were married yet, none had kids that they knew about. Three hot headed, warm blooded, American killers who were probably planning to spend their deployment money on booze, fast toys and impressing some local the moment we had boots on the ground in Washington. That's what I had done following my first deployment as a fresh faced Corporal. These guys probably wouldn't see that money. Their family would get a knock at the door, a flag and whatever benefits they had bestowed upon someone.
Snap out of it Dalton! I shook my head to clear the thoughts. Focus, need to figure out why the hell I wasn't left on that plane with the rest of them and how the hell to get out of this predicament. I still felt a lump in my throat, so I coughed quickly to clear it. In the silence, my cough was deafening.
"I didn't expect you to bounce back so quickly Sergeant." There was the muffled almost mechanical voice, followed by the hiss of his exhalation. Bane must have just entered the room, I hadn't heard his breathing. There was no way he could hide that sound. "I don't get a thank you for saving you from your eminent demise?" I still couldn't see the mass of muscle, but I could tell his voice was getting closer to me.
"Saving me? Kidnapping maybe. But I don't believe killing my squad warrants a thank you, sir." Sarcastic, yet still professional, it had always been my response to situations. My tone had been even, emotions got you nowhere in situations like this. I quickly felt a hand around my throat.
"Still have that quick tongue." He applied a little pressure, but it wasn't so much that I couldn't move air. "You would have rather died on that plane with your 'men'?" He said it as if he couldn't quite believe that would be my choice.
"My soldiers…" My voice caught on his tight grip, the air not moving as easily. I let out a gasp, but he still held tight to my neck. "Keeping them safe…" Another quick gasp allowed a little bit of air movement. "Was my mission…" I heard the deep rumble of laughter and he let go of my neck.
"Dr. Pavel was the mission Staff Sergeant…Brycen Dalton." He used my name and I didn't appreciate it. My name off of his tongue caused my hairs to stand on end.
"Negative sir, Dr. Pavel was Agent Williams's mission. My soldiers are always my mission." He didn't have a quick response to my statement. For a moment I didn't even know where he was standing, as I could no longer hear the hiss of his mask. Suddenly I felt the jerk of the mask covering my eyes being pulled off.
"You wish to die then?" Bane was staring down at me, I wanted to look around at my surroundings in the dimly lit room, but I couldn't look away from those eyes – my eyes staring back at me from that monster.
"I would have preferred to be given a chance to save my soldiers. But you took that opportunity from me. Had my life been needed to save them, then that's what I would have done. Death is no longer an option, sir." Bane broke the eye contact first and stepped away from the table I was strapped down to.
"You did manage to kill one of my men. Does that make you feel as if you made a difference?" He spoke with his back facing me.
"It didn't save any of mine." I said it bitterly.
"You were quick to wish death upon us on the ground." Bane came back to the table and stared down at me. I shrugged as best I could from my position.
"Had I killed you before we boarded the plane we wouldn't be here right now. I'd be headed home." He chuckled, but it could have been a cough in that mask.
"And where is home Brycen?" I didn't care for the wrinkle in his eyes, as if he were taunting me.
"Currently it's Fort Lewis, Washington. But in the Army it's wherever they send me." I glared at him, trying to figure out where he was going with this. Why did he care where home was? I felt my pulse quicken and my blood pressure raise, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths to lower my vital signs. I was fighting against my emotions, those things that clouded your decision making skills.
"Self-control is an important skill to master. Not that your anger would get you out of this current predicament." He patted the strap around my midsection and the ones on my legs. "Someone of your level of training needs to be properly restrained. My men are replaceable, though I would prefer to keep the ones I have."
"A leader takes care of his men." I spat out at him, my anger getting the best of me. "He doesn't lead them like lambs to the slaughter, as if they're expendable." The massive hand he had resting on the strap across my chest moved so quickly to my neck I had zero time to react, no time to pull in a quick breath. Catching me mid-sentence my lungs were depleted and he pinched off all the air that was moving down my windpipe.
"You feel so highly of yourself, a part of an Army unit that so quickly replaces their men. This Army of yours has already replaced you and your squad. You are as you said being lead like a lamb to the slaughter. You and those men you let perish at my hand." He squeezed tighter, I could feel my chest bucking against the lack of oxygen. Spots formed before my eyes, my mouth opened to pull in air but was unable to. I wanted to pry his hand from my throat, but my hands were useless to me. "Think on that Sergeant." The spots grew bigger until again I was met with darkness.