Surprise!

I bet you all thought I forgot about this story. NOPE! I was just waiting until i had it finished before I posted again.

On a personal note, this story was last updated during my New Year's resolution in 2012 to finish my unfinished stories. Well, as it turned out, 2012 was a very bad year for me and put me in a very dark place. (The sudden death of one's therapist tends to have that kind of effect.) Anyway, I became so distant from the stories I had been working on up to and including that time that I resolved not to update them again. That is, until I could guarantee short wait for my readers.

Long story short, the wait is over. I completed the 12th and last chapter of this story today and (after minor edits to the first eight published) I'm ready to post again.

Enjoy ...

Chapter 10

Edward flexed his hand around the knife, his dark eyes showing something dangerously close to insanity. Even so, it was nothing compared to the murderous gaze he received from James as he slowly rose to his feet, his hand twitching where his hip holster would be if he was wearing it.

"Why?" James demanded, his voice as hard and cold as ice.

"Because I had to," Edward replied, not an ounce of remorse in the statement. "They were going to ruin everything."

"What about Falkner and Lockhart?" Scott demanded, anger replacing shock.

"Casualties of war."

"We are not at war!" James shouted, taking half a step forward.
Scott caught his friend by the arm, his eyes not leaving the knife. Edward may have been their friend once, but the man they knew was not the one standing before them. This man was a traitor and murderer, one he wasn't going to let kill again.

"It's over, East," Scott stated firmly. "Don't make this worse than already is."

"Right!" Edward snapped with a humorless laugh. "You think after everything I'll just let you walk me out of here and in front of a firing squad? You're dreaming!"

He lunged forward, light glinting off the red tipped blade. James shoved Scott back, causing him to stumble into the wall, while he met the traitor head on. Blocking the strike, he threw a punch of his own, but it too was deflected. Blow by blow, the two fought over the body of their fallen commander.

Normally, a fight with Edward wouldn't last long. Initially trained as an MP, his specialty was hand-to-hand combat. However, James was full of such rage that he met every hit with one of his own. The knife was lost at some point and the two continued to try to kill each other bare handed. There was only one thing Scott could think of to stop it. Rushing to his Stevenon's desk, he opened the top drawer and found a loaded pistol.

"Freeze, East," he ordered, pointing the gun at his former friend.

Edward ignored him, as did James, while the two remained locked in combat. Scott wasn't about to risk shooting his friend by mistake, but he had to end the fight before that knife ended up in another officer. Firing a shot into the wall, he stopped them long enough for Edward to dive for the window. James hurried after him, narrowly dodging the knife that came flying at his head.

"Come on," Scott urged. "We have to stop him!"

James didn't need to be told twice. Grabbing a book off the shelf, he knocked away any remaining glass shards and climbed out the window. Scott was right behind him as the two hurried across the darkened base. They could hear sounds of a commotion, likely the MPs discovering Stevenson's body, but headed in the opposite direction. Edward was a traitor, but he was no fool. The spotted a shadow running into the hanger and reached it just as one of the planes powered up.

Knowing that they would never stop a fighter jet on foot, Scott lead the way down the row to where their own planes sat idle. Climbing into the cockpit, Scott strapped himself in and powered up the engines. He allowed himself only a second to think about how many rules and regulations he was violating before following James out to the runway.

/'/'/'/'/'PRESENT DAY'\'\'\'\'\

Scott looked down at his hands as he listened to the story. It was almost as if he could feel the controls of his old plane. The roar of the engine echoed in his ears and he emotions of that night weighed down his heart. Hearing it told again brought everything back and he wished with all his heart that it would finally be over.

"What happened after you went out there?" Alan asked from his perch on the windowsill.

"We shot him down like a dog," James answered coldly.

Silence filled the room and Scott moved near his youngest brother. The warm wind washed over him, and he closed his eyes to see the wreck falling from the sky. He felt a hand on his arm and gave Alan a small smile at his gesture. His brothers must think that he came here out of guilt, which was partially true, but not for what they thought.

"There wasn't anything else you could do," Virgil offered gently. "The man was a traitor and a killer. If you hadn't killed him –"

"We didn't," Scott interrupted.

"What?" Gordon questioned, taking a step deeper into the room.

"We thought we killed him," James clarified. "We were wrong."

Scott moved back to the desk, were the half-finished report sat. The report he should have completed, the mission he should have finished, and had lead to more innocent lives lost. Though it killed him to do it, he knew his brothers deserved the whole truth.

"We shot down his plane and thought he was dead, but a report came out last week. Two hikers were found not far from here … their throats were slit."

"That doesn't mean it was this East guy," Gordon pointed out. "Lots of killers use knives."

"No," James shook his head. "It was him. Don't ask me how I know, but it was him."

Scott nodded slightly, remembering the way Col. Stevenson had looked laying on the floor. The victims in the woods had the same cut, right down to the depth. Unless they had been killed by a ghost, Edward was still out there somewhere.

"So, what do you plan to do?" Vigil inquired, getting to the heart of the matter.

"We find him," Scott replied, "and we finish what we started."

The words felt hollow as he tried to ignore the pit growing in his stomach. His former friend was a killer and both he and James had been lucky to get away from him the first time. Now, with ten years to harden his skills and hatred, he didn't even want to think about what Edward had become.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Gordon asked. "Let go catch a killer."

"No!" Scott snapped. "This is not your fight. Go home."

"Scott, we're your brothers," Virgil argued. "We won't let you do this alone."

"Yeah," Alan agreed. "Your fight is our fight."

"If you insist," a sinister voice hissed from nearby.

Scott had only a second to place it before a dark arm came out of the brush. It latched onto Alan, who fell backwards with a cry and disappeared from sight. Calling out for his youngest brother, Scott rushed to the window, but all he could see were the shadows of the jungle as they danced to the fading laugh of a traitor.

So, was it worth the wait for a cliffhanger?

Before you sharpen your pitchforks, be aware that I will post again in 12, 20, 36, or 40 hours. (Readers choice.)