Murphy's Law
"A little while longer." I whisper to myself and scan the small village below with the binoculars I held in front of my eyes. I see the same guards in front of the large house belonging to the captor of my target or targets; Mr. Al-Fadhil. I watch as the guards walk around a little, bored with their station like I was from where I sat on the large hill nearly fifty yards away.
"Just a little bit longer." I lower my binoculars and look up at the sky, seeing the small puffs of white floating in the light blue canvas. A flash of gold floats over my face and I push the hair that had fallen from the hair-band back behind my ear. I close my eyes and feel the sun beat down on me as though I was in a frying pan. I hated the heat, but I would grin and bare it anyways.
This was not the place I would have chosen for a job; Bolivia. It was just too hot this time of year to be running around with guns, knives, and heavy boots through the thick jungle. I look back at the jeep I had driven to my location and then shake my head, picking up my binoculars again.
"Rose, do you hear me?"
"This is Rose. I hear you." I answer as I scan the village below again, seeing more guards walking around with Uzis in their hands.
"Stand by for your orders."
"Standing by." I return and wait for what I was to be told.
"...is this Rhos Moriarty?"
I lower the binoculars at the sound of the strange voice now ringing in my ear. This wasn't my commanding officer. I narrow my eyes a little and touch the ear bud in my ear gently.
"Identify yourself." I speak up and place the binoculars into the pack by my feet. The voice gives a low laugh and then sighs.
"Oh, a woman...and here I was under the impression Rhos was a man. What a pleasant surprise this is."
"Is there a problem?" I ask carefully, wondering if he would pull me out with the realization that I was female. It didn't usually matter, but there were those 'specific' cases where it seemed to. Sexist bastards...
"No, no problem. I thinks it's sexy; a woman flailing guns around and causing chaos. It's pretty hot, Rhos."
"It's Rhoswen and you never answered me." I ignore his comments and then take a deep breath, "Identify yourself or get off my God damn line."
"I'm your boss here sweetheart. So show a little respect and settle down."
"You're the guy who hired me, huh? This Max character?" I ask and throw my pack onto my back, clasping it around my waist for security reasons. I move to my jeep and open the back hatch, reaching for my handguns in the closed case.
"It's almost show time. You remember the plan? Or do I have to repeat it for your sensitive female ears?"
"I got it." I give a small laugh, shutting the hatch and then click my tongue as a thought pops into my head, "I don't see any children yet. Are you positive they're here?"
"Very positive. They're there or going to be there. Either way children will be on the property as captives."
"Alright." I reply and place my handguns into the holster strapped around my chest. The handguns dangle beneath my arms and under the vest I wore.
"Oh, docile are we? Like being ordered around? I like that in my mercenaries. Makes it easier to get things done. Talk to you later sweetheart."
I bite my tongue from saying anything about the nickname and then walk west into the jungle. This was the first time actually talking with this guy and I already didn't like him. Usually I just got an envelope filled with every piece of information that I needed. Easy, but this guy made it so difficult.
I continued walking, my head in other places and don't notice the clearing ahead of me until a voice speaks up.
"Should I give the order?" I slow my pace and begin to stalk, not wanting to cause trouble before I could do my job. I take another slow step closer, crouching and pulling out a gun from my holster.
"Hold off another minute, Jensen." I stop short of flicking off the safety and feel taken aback by the newest voice. It was deep, a little rough; I knew it. Of course I knew it.
I walk a little faster, holstering my gun again, and slowly see a group of people appearing by a Humvee in the clearing.
"We want to be sure."
"Clay?" I ask gently as I step out into the clearing. Immediately I'm faced with guns pointed at me by each of the other squad members. I look at each of the men to my left, studying them carefully. A man with a scar stretching across his right eye. Another with a shaved head and wedding ring on the chain with his dog-tags.
Then I look diagonal from me at the man by a rifle, obviously their sniper, wearing a black cowboy hat. My eyes move right at the Humvee where a dirty blonde with glasses sat in the back of the vehicle, staring at me dumbfounded as though he had been caught sneaking into the cookie jar before supper.
My eyes move and land on a man with cropped brown hair, standing near six foot two with slightly narrowed eyes. Slowly my eyes lighten and a smile flutters onto my lips.
"It is you." I take a step towards him when a knife is pressed firmly to my throat. I halt and my smile drops, my hands clenched tightly into fists. I was more then ready to defend myself if that was the case, but I knew Clay would never allow me to be hurt. Not by one of his men; no way.
"Call off your dog or he's going to get hurt." I stare at Clay with a steady eye while I leveled the situation I was in. Rather large knife pressed to my throat, arms wrapped tightly around my waist, backpack pressed firmly against my assailants chest. I mapped out every move I would make if Clay didn't call the man off soon.
"Name." Clay demands, arms crossing over his vested chest. I narrow my eyes at him and tilt my head slightly. He didn't remember me? Had it really been that long?
"Moriarty." I answer and his expression lightens, "You knew my father and my brother and you used to know me, but obviously with age your memory's going, old man."
Clay gives a hearty laugh and runs a hand over his mouth, trying to hold back his grin. He nods his head at the man behind me holding the knife to my throat.
"Alright Roque, let her go. She's not a threat. At least not to me." Clay laughs and gives a small wave to Roque, letting his arms fall from his chest. The knife lingers on my throat a moment longer and then disappears, gliding gently across my skin in a warning. I look behind me at the man with the scar, taking a mental note of his name.
"See you've made some new friends." My gaze returns to Clay after I had looked around at the others staring at me.
"Yeah well, kinda tough to keep the old ones when they keep disappearing on me." Clay retorts with a small snort. I do nothing, only look towards the ground and mumble 'yeah' in response. I felt guilty for leaving him and my brother so suddenly, but it was the past and it was unimportant at the moment.
I look up from the ground and notice the change in Clay's expression.
"What're you doing here, Rhos?" Clay asks as his eyes narrow slightly. They weren't narrowed at me, but more at him trying to figure out what I was doing in the same place as him. Usually if we were in the same place on different teams that meant serious trouble. Saving versus killing just don't really mix well.
"Yeah, what are you doing here and who the hell are you and how do you know Clay?" My eyes travel behind Clay to the man sitting in the back of the Humvee. The first thing my eyes see again on him is his glasses. They're shaded over, a kind of purple tinge to then. Then I notice his eyes behind the shaded glass; sky blue with a little gray.
"I could ask you the very same thing." I counter and unbuckle the strap across my stomach from my back pack.
"Yeah, well I asked you first." The dirty blonde sat up straighter, a walkie in his left hand and a button in his right.
"Shut up Jensen." Clay scolds him and then looks back at me.
"Do you all go by last names or something?" I ask and look around the group, only knowing two names so far, well three if you count Clay.
"Not all of us." The man with the wedding ring speaks up.
"So...what are your names then?" I try to encourage, not wanting to answer Clay's question.
"I asked first!" Jensen calls out and I look back at him. I narrow my eyes a little at him and then shake my head.
"Yeah, but it's five against one. You first then I'll go." I reply, finding the compromise fair. In my own mind.
"That's Pooch; our transport and heavy weaponry," Clay begins and nods towards the man standing off to the other side of the clearing.
"Whoa wait. You can't just give in." Jensen argues, staring down at Clay, "I had her right where I wanted her!"
"Who the hell's in charge? And no you didn't have her; at all." Clay retorts with and then looks to the man with the rifle off towards the edge of the hill, "That's Cougar; our long range eliminations. The one who had the knife at your throat is Roque; demo and tactical. And Jensen, the loud mouth, is our communications and tech specialist."
I nod my head and look back at Clay, seeing Jensen staring at me from behind his glasses. I stare back at him and then he lowers his head a little to look at me from over the top of his glasses. I give a small laugh and smile, nodding my head.
"Alright, fine four eyes." I announce and drop my pack from my back, "My name's Rhoswen Moriarty. I'm here because I was hired to be and I've known Clay since I was ten because my father was his General in the Army."