Chapter 3- Old Town Road
If you know me, then you know that this very popular song is my jam. I will be 100 years old and breaking my hip because I danced way too hard to this song. I love it that much. So naturally I had to work this into the story because why not?! Who's ready for a Mouse reunion and sniper Jay and this mission? I know I am. So let's take our horses to the old town road and ride till we can't no more. I'm going to stop now. Let's go!
"Can you stop with the Tom Cruise look already?" Jay looked up from the unloading of his bag, the voice sending nostalgia and brotherly feels all over. It had been years since he was within earshot of it, but the brain wasted no time associating the voice with a man. Jay spun around to face his long lost BFF, embracing him in a hug not long after. In the brief seconds they embraced, Jay could feel the change in Mouse. He was tighter then the Chicago days, the bulk of him muscle and sun worn skin. He smelled like canned food and sun screen, nothing at all like Chicago but right on par with those tours oh so long ago. Pulling away he noted the longer then normal, scraggly hair and facial hair not much better then a teenager's growth. His whole countenance was that much improved. Gone was the geeky tech wiz locked behind a desk, a vision of contentment and satisfaction taking its' place. As much as Jay protested the decision to head back over, he was over-the-moon excited to see Mouse happy and in his chosen habitat.
"Oh shut up," Jay responded to the friendly jab.
"Dude, the shades and the grey safari type jacket and the boots. Yeah, Ethan Hunt and Jack Bauer called, they want their look back." Jay did a speedy once over of himself before sighing and shrugging his shoulders in defeat. Mouse's keen observations were spot on.
"Well, how does it feel?" Jay closed the sliding door, slapping the side of the van before it rocketed into the blistering, watering horizon. The worries of blackouts and panic attacks wound up being just that: internal thoughts. As Jay panned the fortress in front of him, everything was coming back: mindset, assumptions and expectations, as well as mental maps sprawling out in his mind. In record time he was back to being that soldier, the one who felt unstoppable, able to do whatever was given to him at max capacity. He grinned before turning to Mouse, given him that cocked eyebrow and exhaled laugh before responding.
"Like home which is weird." Mouse patted him on the back, pushing him the first couple of steps towards the main entrance. It was astounding how much security was required to operate a special, black ops base in the middle of a desert. Even years after the war was over still the watch towers were in use, heavily guarded and armed every twenty feet. The same carded access was in place, the stern looks of disciplined individuals not having changed in the least. Back in the day, Jay got why all of this was necessary, but today, with more livestock then people around them, it all felt to be a tad overkill. But then again, the alternative would've made him way more uneasy. Once Mouse said the magic word and identification was deemed sufficient, the gates swung wide open, revealing the exact replica of the base Jay resided in for however many days. The place was arranged in a pentagon. One side dedicated to the vehicles while another was intended for sleeping quarters. Command center and the big guns were in the corner furthest away from the gate, designed to give those inside that much time and padding in the event of an attack. The makeshift gym was next to the barracks with the fifth place the eating area. It was both incredible and hilarious how set in place things were in the military. Once they figured out a practice or design, they never swayed from it. The one thing that was unique to a base was what happened in the middle of it all. Some used the free space for sports or fire pits or communal things. This one swayed towards the sports, the rock lined baseball diamond and basketball goal and flooring acting as heavy hints.
"This isn't the exact same place is it," Jay inquired?
"No. After that day they had to pick up and go. The enemy knew where we were and personnel was basically gone. So they literally burned that one to the ground, set this up seven months later twenty clicks down the way. Jay nodded, observing the vibrant life within while going back to that time. Seven months after that date he was scraping the bottom of a bottle, wishing to not breathe or think much longer after that.
"C'mon, let's get your stuff set down before we get you up to date on stuff." Jay pointed for Mouse to lead the way, feeling the stares and scans from the residents. He got it, understood the grudge against people coming in from the civilian world. He was on their side at one point, and had done the routine a handful of times. So instead of demanding respect or acknowledgement, he kept his head down, stomping feet on the hard surface of the barracks.
"Ah, there it is." Mouse pivoted in place, smirking while rolling his eyes at Jay.
"You've officially arrived," he responded as he watched Jay shake sand off his boots. In two steps the footwear was ruined. He'd spend the next six months kicking sand out of the sole of his shoes. It hit him after passing the first set of bedroom doors, the scent of man. It wasn't a high school gym locker, a laundry room after a home game, and it certainly wasn't a cabin in the middle of summer camp. It was a combination of all of these things, the stench of sweat and testosterone and just man things wafting into his nostrils. The desire to pinch his nose was there, marveling that at one point he was used to all of this, but onward he ventured in. The sounds of phone calls to loved voice drifted in and out, music blaring in a couple places making Jay beam with memories. He was all of these people at some point, appreciating the personal homecoming.
"This is so odd how perfect and exact everything is," Jay remarked as Mouse unlocked the door.
"Just wait till you get inside." Jay laughed out loud as he stepped into the room. Down to the bedding, the room was set up exactly how he recalled it that day. The bed was to his left, between the wall and dresser. The desk was to his right, computer, phone, everything needed to reach the world set up and ready to go. The super bright lighting was adorned in the middle of the room and a medium sized window was opposite his location.
"It's like a freaking time capsule."
"It just feels like home." Jay threw himself on the bed, anticipating the resistance from the springs and foam pad. Rubbing his eyes through a yawn had him realizing that he hadn't slept in over a day. He had no clue what time it was or even the day really. Sleep was going to be a breeze at some point.
"Tired? How was the trip?" That one earned Mouse a look.
"Dumbass, you know the answer to that. JFK was cut close because Chicago was delayed. It was a full sprint and threatening of a lawsuit that got me out of New York. Berlin was such a long delay I managed to nod off and almost miss that flight. Travel agent you are not." Mouse merely smiled, brushing his hands on his pant legs while laughing.
"Had to get you adjusted to this way of things. You've got to be quick on your feet and willing to wait." Jay response was the throwing of a pillow, which Mouse caught in rather perfect fashion.
"You realize I basically do all of that back home. I'm not sitting around playing golf and napping."
"Yeah, but that's a job in a normal world. At the end of the day you get to clock out and let your guard down. This is war, you've got to be ready for anything at all hours of the day."
"Yeah, true," Jay replied, sitting up and rummaging through his bag for the item.
"Here," he eventually said, tossing the dog tags towards Mouse.
"And you officially passed," he replied while adorning the necklace around his neck.
"You thought I'd forget?"
"No, was just waiting for your plan. Oh shit, hang on.." Mouse was on his feet and bolting in seconds. Jay heard things crashing and slamming, envisioning the complete mess Mouse was making in his small amount of square footage. Jay was mid opening a drawer when something flew at him, the chain smacking his face as he scooped the tags into his hand. If this place was a time capsule, then the tags were his donation to the project. His name was there, but everything else were things he no longer was. The ranking meant nothing to him, the dent from when he stepped on them one night totally leaving him. Even the bite marks he engraved in the rubber was stuck back in that time. Brushing a thumb over them brought back that bad habit of his when he was bored, glad it eventually left his person.
"This is so weird," he admitted while placing them around his neck.
"You'll get used to it." Jay nodded, looked around the room before speaking again.
"It's been awhile since I saw these. Thanks for keeping them safe."
"Hey, promise is a promise. Thanks for keeping your end of the bargain." It was this point the two of them realized they weren't alone, turning towards the door to see a spry, silent person glare at them.
"Commander is ready for you guys." Mouse looked to Jay with raised eyebrows and nervous energy.
"You ready?"
"Yeah, totally." Mouse lead the way, the three of them staying on the walkway while squinting against the ever changing ambient setting. The messenger opened the door for them, not blinking till both were in the room and in their place. One glance at who was in charge had Jay internally rolling his eyes. This trip down memory lane just kept getting better and better.
…
"Halstead, Jay." Jay was baffled. How this man remembered with thousands of soldiers between then and now was beyond him.
"Sergeant Ortiz," Jay stuttered.
"It's commander now, but there's no way for you to have known." The face was extra red as the commander approached his former pupil. His stance was still small and seasoned since their last encounter, but the firmness and thing to be feared was right there. More bars of accomplishment were pinned to his chest, the hands rougher and more wrinkled then before, but Jay figured the mind was just as sharp as those days in Benning.
"Heard you made detective in where, Detroit?"
"Chicago, sir," Jay replied. Ortiz reached to smacked his shoulder as he grinned.
"An overachiever, of course. It's what I expect from my cadets. Greg tells me you've made a bit of a name for yourself back home."
"Eh, it pays the bills."
"Ignore his humble attitude. He's a member of one of the top ranked, highly sought after units in the CPD, not to mention he's a senior member." Jay shrug, earning him something he never thought possible out of the small man: a laugh.
"Shot is still good?"
"Yes sir," he shot back, choosing to leave out the fact he hadn't fired a military sniper rifle since the day before that day. He'd done it hundreds of times back in Chicago, but the situations and rifles and mechanics were so different. It was like comparing driving an automatic car to that of a manual. Both got the job done, but one was much easier then the other.
"Good! Greg says he wants to run you through a few drills before the day's over."
"Sounds good," shooting a shoulder shrug to Mouse who copied the gesture. Ortiz motioned for them to move closer to the motherboard of the place, the extra large island in the middle of the command center. All along the perimeter were television and computer screens, each one doing a unique task. From security feeds to databases and recognition software, the place was like IA but on steroids. Between the screens and the island were a couple dozen Lazy Boy recliners, treats for those that had to be assigned and charged for the duration of their stay. Tomorrow in the final briefing the place would be packed, but today it was just the three people gathered round the island in the room.
Jay took a stand at the top of the table, observing the maps, manilla envelopes of casework, and files opened wide for him to analyze. Looking at everything made him miss home, the cork board where everything was eye level for their convenience. Here he had to reach and bend over to get things, now understanding why Voight did what he did.
"For starters, did Greg tell you you're operating as a private contractor?" Jay looked up from a stack of intel pictures, double blinking to verify he heard things correctly.
"No…" he oddly replied.
"It's for the mission."
"So all that time and effort and accomplishments just thrown out the window?" Ortiz seriously shook his head.
"Not at all. Unofficially for this mission thats what we're considering you, but officially nothing has changed. For the sake of making sure our actions cannot be traced back to this unit, we have to keep things as out of chatter as possible. So we're providing a different rifle, ammo, color of tact gear, everything. If anyone spots us, seeing you will not only make it impossible to track down, it keeps us out of discussions. Because, as you know.."
"-I'm here but not really."
"Exactly."
"So the target is a key player in an ISIS cell in the area. He's captured, tortured, and eventually killed about a third of the town. You know the last place you drove through before getting here?" Jay nodded.
"That's where they strike. It doesn't matter the time of day or who it is. If you're slow you'll get taken."
"So if you guys know all of this and his pattern, why haven't you taken him out?"
"Because this whole unit was shipped out here and given this mission a week ago. It took some time to get up to speed and figure this guy out. At first we wanted to get him at his palace way out in the desert, but that wound up being useless. That's when Greg suggested taking him out in the village. We've had people working out heat runs and consistent times when this caravan of terror makes their way into the town. From there it was finding the right shot."
"Which is where I come in." The crowd of two nodded in confirmation.
"We're calling this mission Operation: Old Town Road. The plan is to strike tomorrow night right before dusk. We're eighty-five percent sure that's when he'll come in next."
"Look, I get that percentage is high, but being the person who's taking the shot I'd like a little more confidence then that." Ortiz tilted his head as he blinked long.
"Welcome to the Rangers, kid. It's not always perfect and fully accurate. Trust us. We've done the legwork. It's up to you to take us into the end zone." Jay looked down at his watch, realizing it was still set to Chicago time. It was 6am there, the world just cresting the light source for the day. Jay wanted nothing more then to sleep on the top of the island for the rest of time. The jet lag was a total bitch this time around.
"When do we start training?"
"How about now."
"Sounds good to me." Mouse escorted Jay to the arms' room, ignoring Jay's long yawn and stretching of his arms.
"Halstead," had the two of them spinning around at attention.
"Thanks for making the trip out here. Glad we finally get to work together." Jay nodded, really not sure what to say to that. This guy arguably hated him for most of his time at Benning, being all buddy-buddy wasn't going to erase those feelings that easy. Mouse picked up on this, encouraging him to get a move on before the sun set and the temps dropped to near freezing.
…
"Old Town Road?" They were nestled in one of the watch towers, the bottom board that ran along the floor removed in an effort to simulate tomorrow's roof top. The sun was gleaming in the view finder, Jay still finding it difficult to locate the target through the sunglasses he was wearing. He got that this was all in prep for the real thing, but at this moment this felt both uncomfortable and impossible.
"Oh don't tell me you don't know what it is," Mouse replied, not losing focus from his spotter perch. The two of them were lying flat on their stomach, Jay with the intended rifle under his grip, Mouse with the notebook and spotter scope to his right. They were waiting for the moving targets to arrive, Mouse a little perturbed that they were taking as long as they were.
"I know what it is. I think everyone person in the world knows what it is."
"God bless Billy Ray Cyrus. He steals that song. It's the perfect blend of hip-hop and country, a match one would never see coming." Jay chuckled before gripping things tighter, doing his best to keep focused while appeasing to Mouse's outpour of a single song.
"You never cease to surprise me."
"Well anyway, the town for tomorrow looks exactly like the set for the music video."
"I'll have to take your word for it."
"So yeah, that's why. It's a fun spin on an otherwise difficult task."
"I'm pretty sure that's the point of this whole Rangers division: completing the impossible that no one else wants to."
"Alright wise ass." Jay smirked, reveling in his one up on Mouse. The radio in both their ears crackled to life, spitting out numbers and code names before the target kicked up sand in the distance. Out of all the training exercises, this was the strangest, grandest one Jay ever had to perform. The target in question was a captured Toyota truck, the window shot out and paint all but peeled off the frame. Inside were two people with two more in the back. All were wearing paintball gear, which really threw Jay off. The truck was speeding into frame, the sand and sun really throwing off timing and the pre-shot routine.
"In range," Mouse spoke in a hushed tone. Jay didn't reply, instead settling on the fact he was going to be firing half blind. The first thing to be removed was the safety followed by the index finger resting on the trigger. Breathing was slowed, breaths being pushed out the first couple times before going silent. The vehicle was about two football fields away now, Jay willing himself to not blink in an effort to find the person in the passenger seat.
"Jay," Mouse spoke in a semi-worried tone, but still nothing came his way. He searched, squinted, prayed and then found what he sought after.
"Have a shot."
"Execute." In the blink of an eye, literally, the cartridge was released from the rifle's chamber, propelling the two hundred yards and landing on the spot between he driver and passenger. The florescent yellow spatter is what had him up and on his knees in surprise.
"What the hell?" Mouse turned to him with a face of pride and victory.
"It's a paintball pellet. Did you really think I'd let you fire live rounds at people?"
"No, I was under the impression we'd use blanks like we always have."
"Eh, this is better…and a lot more fun."
"Now I see why you insisted on setting things up," Jay replied as he got back down.
"Hey, for your first shot in forever that wasn't bad at all." The competitive side was saying otherwise, but Jay had to admit this was a lot of fun. For the next hour this process happened thirty more times, each time Jay getting that much better. By the third round he shot his target in the shoulder, fifth time round he hit him in the sweet spot. Once he found that timing and location to release, it was about testing different speeds and engraining that rhythm. And, let's be honest, the final nine shots were pure showing off. He had them all marveling as everyone came in for the night.
"And you said you were rusty," Mouse joked as they entered the barracks.
"Um, I was." Both stopped at their doors, turning to face the other for final farewells. This all felt so camp-like, juvenile yet appropriate at the same time.
"Thanks for this, Mouse. Seriously. I didn't realize how much I missed this. Glad to have this final lap of things."
"Ditto. Sleep, please. I don't need you falling asleep right before the things get hairy." With rolled eyes Jay was the first to depart, closing his door with a normal amount of slam and locking up behind him. The pranks were sure to come, Jay not giving anyone a sliver of opportunity. He stood in the middle of the room, the bed and desk perfectly apart from his location. The bed was so enticing, the one thing he wanted more then anything. But then the promise to call people when he arrived popped into his head, fully realizing it was several hours since he'd gotten there and was sure all those on the other side of the world were worried. So ignoring the semi-comfort of the bed, he pulled the chair out from the desk and began the dialing process. A sleeping Will was the first call of the day, the grogginess and deep tone to his voice giving away that Jay had dragged him out of bed.
"Dude, you have a way of terrifying people."
"Sorry. This is seriously the first time I've had today to myself." Will yawned, making Jay do the same.
"So, is it weird being back over there? Any…you know.."
"Not yet. It has been weird but also good. It's nice to have this living visual that things have moved on since that day. It's been good closure."
"When's the mission or whatever?"
"Tomorrow night."
"And then you head back.."
"-The next day. We have to lay low for half a day before getting the clearance to leave the base."
"I know you don't want to hear this, but I just have a bad feeling about this. I don't know if it's the distance or location, but I'm just super uneasy about this."
"Will, seriously it's fine."
"Please be careful, Jay not kidding."
"Will, I know. I'll talk to you tomorrow after it's done."
"Okay."
"Hey, what time is it over there?"
"4am."
"Alright. I don't want to wake everyone up so I'll call them when I get up. Can you text them later on?"
"Yeah, sure." The two bid farewell, Will pestering one final time about safety. Jay made it to kicking his shoes off before face planting on the bed. Teeth brushing wasn't happening and a change of clothes wasn't going to happen either. Sleep finally won out.
…
The day arrived much later then Jay anticipated. Rolling over on the bed and raising his phone had his eyes going wide. It was noon, quick calculations telling him that he'd slept for fifteen hours straight. That was an unheard of feat for him as of late, the jet lag truly kicking his butt. He pushed himself into a sitting up position, rubbing his eyes in an effort to rid them of the blur. The very last thing he needed today was a swollen, red, puffy eye so he prayed it was all just from the sleep.
The barracks were silent for the most part. Occasionally you'd hear feet shuffle or mild laughing from a group of two, but otherwise everyone else was outdoors, doing their thing to delay time till the inevitable. He was so behind, acting very much like the old man outsider on campus. Mission time was T-minus six hours and he had a laundry list of things to complete: a good run, the final meeting with everyone, prepping tact gear and rifle, traveling to this 'old town road' set before getting comfy in his spot to take the target down. Sounds like a lot? It totally is. He shed the clothes he wore all day yesterday and put on running attire: shorts, shirt, socks, and his only packed pair of running shoes. He was tightening the laces when the computer across the way flashed, a message from the other side of the world alerting him. He made his way to the desktop, tapping the trackpad to a video request from a number in Chicago. It didn't take long to figure who it was on the other end.
"Hey everyone," he greeted as a horde of smiling faces came into focus. They all waved and cheered for the strong connection, claiming it took several attempts to get everything right.
"How's it going?"
"Great, I just woke up actually. Yesterday was packed."
"So when's the mission?"
"Tonight. It'll be done before it gets dark."
"That's so very James Bond." Jay laughed.
"Sure, you could put it that way. Anyway, how are things back home?"
"Dude, nothing ever changes here. We work. We freeze to death getting home. We eat and then do it all over again."
"So what are you doing between now and whenever this mission is?"
"Oh man, we've got a meeting, then we've got to prep and be out there before things get going. But that's all I can go into right now. I don't even think I'm allowed to share what I already did." It was at this exact moment that the loudest whack against Jay's door rang out, causes those back in America to jump at the surprise sound. Jay didn't bat an eyelash. He'd been through it so many times he'd grown to expect it. The move was always Mouse and it was always some form of footwear hitting his closed door. It was his way of alerting Jay he needed to announce something without getting out of his room; lazy turd that he was.
"What!"
"Meeting. Now."
"I've gotta go," Jay said, waving to the crowded screen before logging off. Farewells and well wishes were administered, the umpteenth amount of promises to be safe were spoken as the screen went dark. Jay sighed, looking down at himself and realizing he was so not dressed or prepped for this meeting, fully aware of the looks and comments that were coming. He opened the door to Mouse resting against his doorway, winding up for the first comment.
"Going to run some errands?"
"Yes," Jay shot back. He wasn't in the mood to just grin and bear it.
"Well sorry, dear, but we've got get things in order." Mouse extending an arm and Jay swat it away, jogging out of the place and making sure he got in the command center first. At least he could check 'working out' off his list for the day.
…
"Everyone, this is our private contractor Jay Halstead. He flew all the way out here from Chicago to help accomplish our mission. For his efforts let's give him a warm welcome. Rising from his seat, Jay felt so out of place. As expected, command center was jammed full of people. The once silent and slightly dusty recliners were now carrying the weight of macho, muscular men with way too much adrenaline and testosterone in their systems. Walking into the room reminded him of locker rooms after a great home victory. Footballs were tossed to different ends of the room, verbally jabbing and gesturing commenced. It was like watching a bunch of kids hyped on sugar conduct socializing in a confined space. It was chaotic, loud, like a high speed tennis match, yet it all stopped the second Commander Ortiz broke the threshold. Jay found his usual spot in the back of the room. He might have been in the same room as these guys, but he didn't view himself as one of them; at least not anymore. So to be called out just made things that much more uncomfortable, not to mention everyone was in fatigues and he looked to have stepped out of Nike ad. With an embarrassed grin and red face, Jay waved as the rest of the crew waved or grunted or called out their 'hellos.'
"Nice shooting," one of them replied.
"Thanks."
"Just don't mess up when it counts." To that Jay laughed, planting himself back on his seat as the briefing rolled on. The large television screen in the middle of the wall flashed to life, revealing an overhead satellite shot of the town where things would be going down.
"Sat shot from a few hours ago. CI house is still a go. Based on the latest heat run from last evening, it is the only intersection that this caravan consistently passes through. It's the fastest way out of the town. One you clear the wood gate its' clear sailing till the next town several hundred miles away."
"How sure are we that this CI won't turn us in once we're set up?"
"Very. His youngest son was taken two weeks ago. Hasn't heard from him since then. We told him we'd make every effort to bring him back if he helped us take this person out. There wasn't much persuading after that." Jay sat back in his chair. It wasn't a fool proof reason, but enough to ease the sprouting nerves in his gut.
"So the plan is this. Charlie team goes in first, securing the perimeter of the house and setting up 'traps' in all entrances to the town. We won't be taking them out right there, but merely giving the contractor data and timing as to when the target is approaching their location. Bravo team is all driving today. You guys are in charge of getting everyone out there, enacting the exit strategy, and bringing everyone home safely. Easy enough?" The group collectively laughed, fully realizing every step of this operation was much easier said then done. The moment between the target entering the town and Jay taking the shot lay many moments where things could go terribly wrong.
"So that brings us to Alpha team. Jay, Greg, Duke and Goose are breaching the house and positioning themselves on the roof. Duke and Goose are security, being the eye for the other two as they execute the execution." Ah, there it was: the weight of the world on Jay's shoulders. It all came down to him and his ability to shoot. Dozens of innocent lives were depending on him. The U.S. military took on the expense of flying him out, housing and training him to perform something they were confident in him doing. It's easy to see why the tightening of his throat and swelling of the lungs was kicking off now. He looked down at his lap, feeling the laser beam glares from the members of the room.
"Any questions?" Jay shot his hand up.
"This target, he comes on a grab each time? What are the odds that he skips out tonight?"
"He's the one that picks hostages out. Since we received news of what was going on, he's been there in the middle of it all. Chatter tells us things are on schedule for tonight. No hint that he's on to our presence or the operation. Anything else?" You could hear a pin drop in the place. They all got their instructions. Each man knew what was expected of them. Nothing else needed to be said.
"Good luck gentlemen. Let's get out there and do some good in this desert. Stay safe and successful. We roll out in two hours. Dismissed." Jay remained glued to his seat, watching each person slowly rise and make their way to whatever they were doing. It floored him how calm they were. Even on the precipice of something as intricate as this mission, all were more concerned with their dinner plans or 3-on-3 basketball game. They were poised, but relaxed. Confidence, Jay finally concluded. He was them at one point, wondered if he still was. If he wasn't, the thought of where things slipped flew in his head.
"You good," Mouse asked, noticing the swimming mind in the chair next to him. Jay had to get out of this room, out of his mind for a time.
"Going for a run," he mumbled mid-rise.
"We've got a schedule."
"I'll be back in half an hour. Time me." Jay was breaking a sweat by the time he reached the gigantic gates of the compound.
…
"Alpha team you're a go." The crew of four was out the door in unison, all but the driver's side door flying open and feet hitting the sandy ground. Jay was on the driver's side of the vehicle, handgun raised as the others rounded the way. While he was considered a civilian helping out, this was a war zone. If life was in serious danger he was giving the go-ahead to take out the problem. Just as it was drilled in his mind that decade or so ago, he began with the top, working his way down to the ground. The back of the house was quiet, the desert occasionally kicking dust their way, but for the most part their vehicle of people were the only living things around. But then again, that was what the enemy wanted: one to think they're alone before a strike. Thus the extra scanning, paused movements before breaching the backdoor. Once inside no one spoke, no one looked at the terrified people clutching themselves in fear. The mission was for them, but Jay didn't want a face or word to get between him and his kill zone. He knew what had happened and what he could prevent, he didn't need anymore motivation for his action.
Mouse took the lead, scanning rooms and hallways before waving people through. Again, as confident as they were in their CI keeping his word, this was war: nothing was guaranteed. It was a slow yet methodical climb up to the roof, Jay standing third in line. He hated that everyone had to keep his safety high in the mission, but there was nothing else he could do. He wasn't completely one of them, therefore his life was valued the same as a citizen of this town. Mouse swung the roof door open extra slow, the squeaking of the hinges sounding very out of a horror movie. He took the initial two steps, looking around both corners before instructing those behind him to crawl into their position. Duke and Goose flanked left and right, giving Jay the middle path to the edge of the roof. Mouse was creating the crevice for Jay and himself, digging into the dried dirt and plaster with a knife and small pick ax looking item. Jay meanwhile was removing the rifle from the case, guiding each section into its' proper place in tune with the rhythm and precision he'd come to pick up on. It was the tick of a Ranger sniper, you had to do things a certain way or a certain time. Otherwise you were that less confident in your ability to complete a mission. Some may call it crazy or OCD, but to those in the situation considered it most important and crucial to the outcome of something.
Once the machinery was ready to go Jay dove back onto his stomach, crawling to the spot Mouse created for him. The hot end of the rifle was nestled into the perfect spot, scope brought into focus with the laser measuring feature calibrated for the place where things would go down. Mouse brought out his spotter gear, thumbed the small notebook with his dominant hand, and at last the two of them could relax.
"Ready," he whispered to Jay? All he got was a small nod.
"You were right about one thing, this does look like the music video set." It wasn't in Jay to discuss what he was about to do. He knew what had to be done, but didn't want it at the forefront of his mind.
"You didn't."
"I did. This afternoon after a shower."
"So I was right?"
"About that, yes. But you're not going to convince me about the other that easily." He looked towards Mouse who was beaming, taking whatever amount of victory he could. Jay couldn't help but smirk and cock his head. It was incredible that after so long apart they fell right back into their routine.
"So now we wait."
"Yeah. Now comes the fun part." Oh how cruel that statement was in the game of watch and see.
…
Three Hours Later
"We have movement from the east," blasted into the radio. The sun was just beginning to drip into the horizon, going perfectly along with what was told by scouts and CIs. Jay began his run down, checking the chamber and arm before ensuring the safety was on and pressing the trigger finger to the trigger itself. Things were still perfect, just waiting for the clearance at this point. Mouse switched from the scope to his binoculars, verbally pointing out the signal from one of the trap locations.
"Copy, four armored cars. Damn they're flying today."
"Any idea on speed," Jay inquired?
"At least seventy, maybe eighty. But they won't be going that fast once they're inside the town." The breathing exercises were turned on by now, Jay closing his eyes and forcing the slow breaths every three seconds. As the trap locations sounded off their confirmation of the caravan, Jay chose to ignore it all. They were doing their job, he had to be primed for his role in it all; the staring role one had to add.
"Copy on the target."
"10-4, caravan approaching the western entrance."
"They're in. Standby for take down." It was here that Jay opened his eyes, placing his finger next to the trigger spot. It was now that he peered through the scope for the first time, flicking on the invisible laser to detect the distance. 500 yards and coming ever closer. At this point the target was too far away for the shot, but that was about to change in a few seconds. Tracking the lead vehicle, which was the assumed take down car, Jay watched the enemy of the hour in the passenger seat. He was jovial, smiling, pointing to things as the vehicle whizzed past. This guy was excited to do something evil, looking forward to wrecking havoc on some innocent life. Jay exhaled, clicked off the safety, and reached the climax of the whole operation.
"Got a shot."
"10-4. In range and ready for the cue." Mouse looked to Jay, realizing his job was over. The entire division resting on the skill of Jay's right index finger. Ten seconds later, the call over the radio cracked in.
"Execute." The time between that and the blood spatter inside the moving vehicle was the span of a finger snap. It was all second nature, receive the command and doing as was told. Those on the roof knew they had a minute, tops, before the place was swarmed. They had to break down their location, grab gear and people, and race for safety. The game was running without being seen. Jay saw long enough to know he hit something vital, but the exact location of the bullet's entry point was a complete mystery. His movements of disassembling and retreating were so quick he almost forgot to breath. The gun was broken down into its' individual pieces in one fluid motion, the picking up of the cartridge the final step before racing down the stairs and to the warmed and waiting Hum-Vee. People were shouting, an unknown language was being propelled into the streets as everyone was shoved into vehicles and flying off. The sand cloud was the biggest worry, but with the faint traces of sunlight left, only the most trained of eyes would notice that four tan Hum-Vees were racing into the darkness. A town was saved, an enemy was panicking and spiraling, and a chorus of cheers and praise were funneling in over the radio. Jay dug his head into the headrest of the car seat, elated to be done and feeling the full effect of adrenaline pumping hard in him. Nothing was as satisfying and incredible as that moment. While the work back home was important and necessary, that moment back there was everything. For one, it reaffirmed that he still had it. But most importantly, it was that closure he needed for this stage of things. He was ready to hang it all up, again. He was more then alright with that being his swan song with the Rangers.
"Way to go Billy Rae, you still have it," Mouse jabbed from the front seat. Jay opened his eyes to laugh away the oncoming tears of mixed emotions.
"Thanks, Nas." It was a rowdy ride back to the base.
…
"So how good did that feel?" Jay tipped his beer, clanking it with Mouse's. They were in the middle of the base, literally, huddled around the campfire. Most of the company was making their way to the barracks for the night. Along with the copious amounts praise and appreciation for Jay's success, the news came down on the shot. The target wore a bullet in the sweet spot, the place in between the eyes that granted instantaneous death. Part of Jay wanted the guy to suffer for awhile, but the fact he made the one in a million shot was worth it. As the night wore on there was plenty of guy talk. Discussions about mission rankings and skills test bounced around the place. Then the inevitable of woman was dribble in here and there. These guys were in the middle of a desert, having not seen loved ones in quite some time. One can imagine exactly was spoken round the crackling glow of fire. But eventually the beer ran low and mouths belted out the yawns of exhaustion. The commander was the first to split from the group, members dropping like flies one by one after that. Now, as the clock was close to midnight, it was just Mouse and Jay, watching the wood lose its' glow by the second.
"I have to admit, it was incredible. Didn't realize how much I needed this. The way things ended the last time…I thought that that was just the way it had to be. But to see all of this, to see normal and still be able to help, it's really good closure."
"So.."
"-No. Sorry, but this is it." Mouse shrugged his shoulders, nestling the beer bottle in the dust and rising.
"It was worth a shot," he spoke through a slow stretch of the arms.
"I've got a life back home."
"And I don't?!"
"I didn't mean it that way." Mouse slapped him on the shoulder with such sloppiness, proof that he was well into the tipsy drunk stages.
"I know. Give me a second." Mouse jogged off in a zig zag fashion, Jay laughing over how inebriated his brother in arms was. Part of him hated this was going to be the final night, knowing full well he'd miss their companionship in about a week. Resting against the lawn chair, Jay looked straight up. The night sky was breath taking this evening. Life in the city doesn't allow for views like this; too many lights and smog preventing that. So whenever Jay got the chance to be in a setting like this, he made a point of looking up. Despite the fact they were moving thousands of miles a minute, he was struck by how still everything was. The stars twinkled and danced in a calming way, those guiding lights that took even the most lost thing home. From anywhere on the planet, one could simply look up and see these same stars. That was incredible to him, yet another realization that as different and apart as everything sometimes felt, at the end of the day they slept under the same sky; racing into the same rising sun. He'd just closed his eyes when Mouse returned, finger doing its' best to scroll through the music app.
"Oh, not now man. I heard the song once, I don't want to listen to it the rest of time. It's done. The mission is over."
"Shut up, it's not that," to which Jay groaned in recognition, the first couple of piano chords forcing his fingers to his ears. He'd forgotten all about this ritual till just now.
"Tell me…did the wind sweep you off your feet," Mouse sung in the worst key imaginable. Jay just complained and laughed simultaneously.
"Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day…and head back to the milky way." There was nothing for Jay to do but go along. As Mouse kept sining into the midnight sky, Jay mentally concluded this was the peak of happiness and contentment. There was nothing else for him to do. He'd never felt more relaxed in recent memory. Life was awesome at this very point in time. There was no way it was going to do anything but stay this way.
So if you recall the story I wrote about Mouse' death in a one shot, you'll understand the Drops of Jupiter reference here at the end. I really hope you guys enjoyed this one. It took me a good two days to write and even then, I'm not sure it encompasses all the appropriate Ranger wording and missions and stuff. Next chapter, we enter part two of this whole thing. Thank you so much for reading!