Author's Note:I would seriously suggest going on Youtube and searching for "Back in the Saddle Again" by Aerosmith and play it for the first part of this chapter. it might intensify the experience a little.

Big Luke

We were stacked up on the door to enter the walls. Studying the layout for a few minutes ahead of time, I knew that I would be going left towards the kitchen, bathroom, second entryway and two bedrooms in the back. Brandon and David would go left towards the master bedroom, master bath and another bedroom. I knew the first thing I was going to do is sidestep to my right and pointing my rifle to the left, clearing my side for any opposition. I could also lay down covering fire if need be so they can make their way to their side of the trailer.

David and I were stacked up on the left side of the door, the handle side. Brandon was on the other side reaching across the door to the handle, waiting for me to give him the signal. He tapped the side of his receiver with his left hand. I knew what he was trying to say and I nodded. I had remembered to chamber a round before we moved in.

I waited till just before Steven Tyler screamed "I'm back!" over the speakers to give the signal.

I entered and sidestepped across the mock living room and one Tango came out from under the bar in the kitchen. He was coming at me with a foam sword. He was wearing old Army fatigues and the metallic skin and red eyes make the robots look like the Terminator. I put three rounds in his chest. The yellow paint spots appeared in quick succession with the single pull of the trigger.

I saw out of the corner of my eye Brandon and David move towards their side of the building. The song kept the adrenaline pumping through my body and made the experience that much more exciting. I took a brief second to look up at the catwalks above. The whole other team was standing watching us.

I put that out of my mind and continued to move down the hallway that connected the bathroom and other rooms on my side. The door to the bathroom was closed so I stuck the forend of my M16 in my weapons catch on my left side. I drew my 1911 from my right thigh and took it off safety. I kicked the door open and stepped inside. There was one automaton like the one in the kitchen hiding in the shower area and I put two rounds in him. Two gone, six more in the gun. My ears rang from the rounds going off since my 1911 was not suppressor compatible. The automaton walked out of the cramped bathroom and I took cover by the door.

I could hear rounds going off and doors being kicked open through the music on the other end of the mock building. I knew that there were probably nobody left on my end but to keep with the purpose of the drill, I kicked in the remaining doors. As a bonus, I could take out my frustration on the doors.

"MacGyver to Red 5, all clear on this side, over," I heard Brandon's voice through my headset.

"On my way," I replied and headed out for the other side.

I looked in all the doors until I reached the mock master bathroom. Brandon had the HVT which was an automaton in an old stained lab coat, pinned to the floor and was putting flex cuffs, or zip-ties basically, around his wrists. David was pointing his MP7 at their captive to make sure he didn't try anything. I reholstered my 1911 and pulled out the little remote control for the music and pressed pause. We finished way before the song ended.

"Good work," I told my team as we bumped fists.

Brandon cut the machine loose. We took our helmets off and walked back up the stairs. Brittany had left and the other team was walking back from their spot on the catwalk.

"Not bad; could be better," said Fyoder.

"How so?" I asked.

"Blow it up; faster," he replied.

"The objective was to subdue the HVT, not kill him. Trust me, if it was the other way around, I would have thought of it," I explained. "You guys want to run one like that?"

He just scoffed again (that was really starting to piss me off).

"Sure, we will," said Dasha in a polite tone.

They moved down to the bottom floor and got geared up. We took a spot on the catwalk. I rested my elbows on the rail and peered down. The other team was still staging so I drew my 1911. I weighed it in my hand for a second and ejected the magazine. As I slipped some new rounds in the mag, I watched the automatons take their positions in the walls.

They moved around. Now, they had the HVT covered by two armed guards and the fourth was stationed on my former side of the building, the left side. He was hiding out in one of the bedrooms.

The other team was finally ready and stacked up on the door. Bob had his hand on the door handle much like Brandon did. The PKM was too much for him to hold with one hand, so he let it hang on the sling. Fyoder gave them the signal and Bob opened the door. I clicked a button on my watch to start the timer. The four of them moved in and immediately split up, Fyoder and Dasha went left and Fadey and Bob went right. The group preformed the drill almost perfectly. I checked my watch, about the same time that we had.


The next day, Chiron insisted that I take Fyoder to my hand-to-hand combat class. I didn't like the guy but he was ex-Spetsnaz and they have their own martial arts program that's pretty good. I stood at the front of the class and was demonstrating a technique on Brandon. Brittany teases me and says that I beat up on Brandon but I can teach him a lot better if he's up close and personal, plus I know he can take it.

I told Brandon to roundhouse kick me in the side. I caught his leg in my left arm and I stepped in next to his left foot with my right foot.

"Now, all I'm going to do is push or punch him in the chest while I'm sweeping his foot out from under him," I explained as Brandon was hopping on one foot. "I can just let him fall but I want to create space so I can draw or brandish my weapon. I got a gun but you'll have a knife or sword or whatever you use. So, like I said: I'm just going to swipe with my right foot and punch with my right hand."

Brandon's eyes widened as I swiped his foot and pushed on his chest. I didn't let him fall too hard but just enough to keep him tough. I stepped back and drew my 1911. I left the safety on and my finger way off the trigger, so far that my trigger finger was stretched over the slide. I paused for a second and reholstered my weapon. I lent my hand to Brandon and he took it.

"Do you have anything to add to that?" I asked Fyoder who wasn't far away.

"Yes," he answered as he walked up to Brandon.

"If this guy try to kick me in thigh, right here," he said pointing to the outside of his left thigh. "Go ahead, kick me," he told Brandon.

Brandon did but he was hesitant. He was comfortable when I was demonstrating because I said what I was going to do before I did it. Fyoder just did the maneuver. When Brandon tried to kick Fyoder in the thigh, Fyoder struck the back of his knee and Brandon lost his balance. Fyoder caught Brandon's leg in his and fell over backwards, taking Brandon with him. He faked like he elbowed Brandon in the hip and stood back up. He held out his arms like See? That's how it's done! I lent my hand down to Brandon and he took it.

"OK, now your going to partner up with a automation and practice each technique ten times," I told the class.

Everyone went off with a robot and practiced each technique. I was curious about that move of Fyoder's that I put our differences aside and walked up to him.

"Do you think you can show me that again? I'm curious about how it works," I asked Fyoder.

He shrugged and nodded yes. We faced off in one corner and I tried the kick to his thigh. He pushed on the inside of my knee and I buckled. He caught my foot with his leg and fell backwards. This applied torque to my leg and caused me to fall over backwards with him. He faked the elbow and stood up, releasing my foot in the process.

To my surprise, he lent me a hand and I took it. He lifted me up and we shook hands.

"Thank you," I said and he nodded.


I got worried at supper that night when I didn't see Fyoder, Fadey or Bob there. Dasha was just sitting there at the Demeter table looking bored. I started to get really worried when Brandon walked over to her outside the dining pavilion. She was sitting on the steps and Brandon sat down next to her. They didn't do much but talk. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that they were just trying to think of a way to bring the two teams together after so much tension between us.

I sat and ate some brisket and watched the two sitting on the steps. Dasha smiled when they talked and her eyes glinted in the moonlight. Brandon held himself differently when he was around her. He'd straighten his posture and keep his feet wider. When he sat down on the steps, he kept his knees bent and rested his arms on them like they were heavy. He was trying to look cool or tough or something, I didn't know what it was to be honest.

I got bored and walked over to the big fire and scraped a piece of my meal into the flames. I said a short prayer to my father, Hephaestus, and a strange smell of gasoline and burnt gunpowder rose from the flames. A deadly combination but it still managed to smell so sweet.

Chiron stopped me on my way out of the dinning pavilion.

"Have you seen Fyoder, Fadey or Bob tonight?" he asked.

"No, sir."

"Do you know where they are?" he asked.

"Probably running some drills in our Kill House," I replied.

"Without their fourth team member?"

"You don't need the whole crew to run a scenario, sir," I replied.

"They have missed dinner," Chiron said.

"So have we on numerous occasions. It's fine, sir. I'm sure of it," I wasn't completely sure but enough to say it.

He just nodded and I went along on my marry way. I started for the Kill house. Brittany saw me walking and intercepted me.

"What you doin'?" she asked as she threaded her arm through mine.

"Just heading to the Kill House."

"Can I come?" she asked.

"Do I really have to answer that?"

"No," she replied.

We walked out to the Kill House and nobody was home. No rounds going off in the walls and nobody on the platform. It was so quiet. I moved the carpet that I had laid down over the trap door. I wanted to keep the other team out of my shop as much as possible. We walked down the steps and KATE was watching a movie across the windshield, The Fast and the Furious.

"Hello, Jon Luke," she greeted us and I took a seat by the computer.

"How's it going KATE?"

"It is going well, Jon Luke," she replied.

"I need you to pull up that packing list I started the other day," I requested.

"Certainly," KATE replied.

I started a list for the upcoming operation and I wanted to get started on it. A light blue holographic image appeared above one of the induction holes on KATE's hood. The image was that of a notepad with several "To Do" items written on it. One item was to load the M61's under KATE's hood. I told KATE to pop the hood and I walked over to a crate with a bunch of ammunition belts rolled up in ammo boxes. I grabbed the first two and walked next to KATE's driver's side fender. Brittany took a seat on the other fender and put both feet on the bumper. She leaned back on her right hand and watched me load the machine guns.

I cleaned each gun before I loaded them to make sure we didn't have any jams while firing. KATE was able to clear any jams but I just wanted to avoid any malfunctions as much as possible.

I knew I was scowling, but I always did that when I got focused on something. Working with my hands kept my mind occupied and it helped me deal with a lot of trouble over the years.

"What are you thinking about?" Brittany asked, still watching me work.

"I'm thinking that I need to clean that burr out of the chamber on this M61," I said as I got a file and a piece of sandpaper.

When I got back I started filing the burr in the chamber ever so slightly. I didn't notice Brittany get off the fender and walk behind me. She wrapped her arms around me and leaned into me.

I knew she liked me and she knew that I knew but we never really talked about it. I was afraid of bringing myself so close to people especially being who I am. I don't think I could handle losing anybody I cared about. It was hard enough losing my mom. I knew that I was already too close to her and her brother, and that was bad enough.

I turned around and Brittany laid her head on my chest. I figured this was as good of time as any to talk to her. Fortunatly for me, she spoke first.

"I want you to be safe," she whispered.

"KATE, don't record this," I knew that she often recorded my conversations with people to use as reference later.

"You know I can't promise that," I said as I wrapped my arms around her.

She sat there for a minute, still holding on to me. I stared at the screen of my computer. Which reminded me to check the weather in Indiana before we left.

"I think... I love you," she finally said.

I sighed, that's exactly what I didn't want her to say.

"Brittany, have I ever told you the story of when I was in Jerusalem?" I asked her.

"No."

I told her the story: We were stationed a few miles outside of Jerusalem and we got a call from the Israeli police. The man on the phone said they needed our help since most of the available men were out fighting terrorism. An Iraqi man had made his way into the city and was holding his two wives and his single daughter hostage at bomb point. The guy had a suicide vest on and was threatening to blow everyone up. We go to get in the trucks and our point man trips and puts his face right on the step of the truck. He broke his nose and our sergeant told me that I was going to be point man on that operation.

We finally arrive at the apartment building in downtown Jerusalem. The mission was to breach the door and take this guy out while the Israeli who was talking him down had his attention.

When the guy in front of me, the door man, opened the door with a battering ram, I stepped inside the room and put one round under the guy's chin and one right on the bridge of his nose. Separating his brain from the rest of his body. No twitches that could set off the bomb. At least that's what the coroner told me. Afterward, his daughter runs up to me and lays a big, fat kiss on my lips in front of the gods and everybody for at least five seconds. It was bad.

"We called it hero syndrome. It's a real thing. I think you might be suffering from it," I finished.

"You know? I've heard of that and it's what I thought too, but now I'm not so sure. I like seeing you with Mathew and how your like a second father to him. It's good for him to have that in his life. Plus, your so nice and I like the way you put up with me and the way you treat me," she replied.

I never thought of myself as nice: tolerant? Yes. Master craftsman? Sure, why not. A Marine? Definitely. I never put the word "nice" on a job application to describe myself.

"Look, I just want you to be safe," she said again.

"You know I can't promise that. Not with this job or the war or anything like that."

"I know," she looked up at me as her eyes started to tear up. "It's your fatal flaw. Your willing and eager to give your life to keep other people from harm."

"I wouldn't say eager," I said with a smile and she smiled back.

Her smile quickly faded, "You also take it personally when you fail to keep the ones you care about from getting hurt."

I sighed again. I knew she was right but it was my duty to keep people safe. If I didn't, who would? I couldn't let what happened to my mom happen again.

"You can't carry all that responsibility and guilt around on your shoulders all the time," she said and I wiped a tear from her cheek. "It tears you apart. I've seen it."

"It was my fault she died," I said referring to my mom.

I truly meant it. That night when I left my house after I was knocked down by step-dad, I joined the Marines. I came at my step-dad because he was arguing with my mom and hit her. While I was out, my step-dad killed her and his son came up with a fake alibi. I've made it my life's mission to kill them both for what they did.

"There was no way you could have predicted that. And you know that," she whispered.

I checked my watch, "It's getting late. You should go and-" she kissed me, cutting me off.

She pulled away and left without another word. I stood there watching as she walked out and up the stairs, thinking about all the other ways I could have taken that conversation.