***several hours earlier***
Eric left his quarters, headed towards the barracks currently occupied by Bravo and their support team. The MP on guard duty at the gate didn't even bother asking for his id. Just opened the gate and stepped aside to allow him through. Wow, had he spent so much time here the last couple days, he was known by sight?
The gym was empty. No one played darts or video games or watched TV in the rec center. The entire section was quiet. No one was outside playing basketball or football or catch. No one sat around the fire pit. It was past dinner time but just after 7 o'clock, too early for bed. So, where was everyone?
The barracks were empty. No sign of anyone. Huh. They weren't due to report to work until noon the next day. But no one had asked for permission to leave base.
Well, they could have asked Jason and been granted permission, but eh, Bravo tended to stick together when one of them was not with them….aah, right. He turned and crossed the decking that led to Jason's quarters.
"Hey." Eric knocked then opened the door. Sure enough, Jason was sprawled on this bed asleep, Cerberus across his feet, Sonny and Trent sat on the floor playing a video game on a laptop and Ray and Brock played checkers at the table. "Here you all are."
Trent set his game controller down, losing the game to Sonny. Ray twisted around in his chair to face the same direction as Brock…to see Eric, who hadn't dropped by just to find out where they were.
"Spenser called in." Eric continued. He stepped over to pet Cerberus who rolled onto his back and exposed his belly for a good ole rubbing. Eric obliged.
"How's powder-puff doing?" Sonny asked. "Think he's loving Charlie?"
"He asked for permission to spend tonight with eyes on the camp because Charlie spent twenty minutes doing so earlier today." Eric said. "They didn't take Spenser with them, though he didn't say why."
"But you think he knew why?" Trent said. Eric nodded. "He say anything went wrong?"
"Twenty minutes?" Ray repeated. "You can't find anything out in twenty minutes."
"Oh, it's a working farm." Eric replied. "Beau said so. They're coming down in the morning." He waited for Jason to wake up. "He didn't say anything Trent, but he was evasive when I asked how it was going."
"What did you tell him?" Jason asked, coming awake from his light doze. He rolled onto his back, rubbed his eyes and came up on one elbow to blearily gaze up at Eric. He yawned.
"Told him regardless of how much sleep he managed to get, his ass better be with Charlie at transport." Eric rubbed the back on his neck. "He was gonna lie down, get up at midnight and watch the camp until dawn."
"Dawn's at what time over here?" Brock asked. "Five?"
"What are you thinking?" Ray asked Eric.
"I think the dog needs a walk." Eric said evasively, staring Jason down, who, after a moment, lowered his head and nodded.
Trent pushed to his feet. "I hear there's a really good trail on a mountain about an hour's ride from here. Good place to walk a dog."
Ray looked at his watch….half hour to pack, hour drive to the trail, six hour hike…they'd get to Charlie's campsite…give or take half an hour, by 3 a.m.
Jason sat up, moving his feet so Cerberus fell between them to the mattress. He looked up at Eric, held a silent conversation with his eyes.
'You saying I have something to worry about?'
'I'm saying it's worth checking out.'
'Sending us after Charlie is gonna cause shit.'
'I've got your back.'
"Anyone not want to take Cerberus for a walk?" Jason swung his leg over the dogs head, put both feet on the floor.
"He's a strong dog." Trent said.
"Takes uh, five guys to walk him." Sonny stood up. "Right?"
The guys got up and got moving. Eric pulled Jason aside before he could follow his men out.
"Charlie didn't call for back-up, I can't sanction a chopper. You're gonna hafta hike up there."
Jason nodded, he understood.
"But you happen to run into any trouble, well then, that's a different story." Eric patted his shoulder. "Be careful out there."
***000***
Beau tossed the phone back into the backpack with a curse – or three.
"Whoa." Mick said at the language. "Hayes pissed off?"
Beau didn't answer.
"So, uh, he say why he called?" Mick tried again. "Beau, come on, you just told him his kid is missing, that isn't gonna sit well with him. Hell, it wouldn't sit well with any team, who has a man unaccounted for."
"Why'd you tell him Spencer was missing?" Greg scowled. "Christ, now we'll never hear the end of it."
"I didn't tell him." Beau snapped. "He knew it soon as Spenser didn't answer the phone."
"Can't believe he has a sat phone." Greg said.
"So do we." Chase pointed out.
"Beau does." Greg corrected. "We don't carry one."
"Alright, come on." Mick clapped his hands. "We need to regroup, nothing Hayes can do about it. We need to find Spenser."
"You don't think Hayes will run to Blackburn, head up here?" Karl asked.
"Will take hours." Mick shook his head. "Hayes will stick to his own mission."
"Choppers." Karl said. "Command knows where the camp is."
"All Hayes knows is Spenser is missing. He doesn't know he was hurt or taken or that we were attacked." Mick said. "He'll sit tight, wait for word." He was watching Beau, wondering why he hadn't heard Beau explain to Hayes what had happened. If it were one of their men, he'd want to know. "Or does he know how Spenser came down the hill?" He asked Beau.
Beau was remembering Jason warning him to have Spenser back by the time Bravo was due to fly out because they wouldn't leave without him; recalled Jason saying 'if we have to come get him'…..almost as if Bravo had expected to come after them.
"Spenser must have called in at some point." Mick said when Beau didn't answer. "Probably to Blackburn. Think Eric told Hayes?" he thought it over. "Would have to have been before he went to get eyes on the camp, he didn't take the phone with him and he didn't have a chance to get it when he got back.…you think he called Blackburn to get permission?"
"Why would Hayes call him anyway?" Chase wondered. "No need really. Unless Clay did tell Blackburn about the hill. Don't see why he would, he wasn't hurt."
"The issue we should be discussing is what happened to Spenser, how we find him and how we get him back." Karl said.
"Doesn't matter." Beau kicked a log towards the fire.
His men stood and stared. First at Beau, then at Mick for direction.
"Don't know what the little prick said when he called in, or who he called, but whatever he said, it sent Bravo on their way here." Beau threw a boot at a tree. "They're here."
"Where?" Bobby demanded. "Here? Like now?"
"How the hell did they know where to find us?" Karl demanded.
"Tracked the GPS on the sat phone." Mick answered.
"There's no way they knew Clay was missing before they set out." Bobby said. "You think they came up here because he skied down the hill? I can't see that."
Beau sighed. "Spenser must have said something when he called in."
"He asked his team to come up here?" Bobby asked. "That's pretty shitty."
But Beau shook his head, then shrugged. Hell, he didn't know. Bravo never did what was expected. They just did whatever the hell they wanted to.
"Do we, uh, wait for them?" Chase asked. "Go after Clay on our own?"
"We need to clean up the campsite, gather our weapons, see what's been ruined." Beau decided. "Chase and Mick, you're dressed, have your weapons, go scout the area, see if you can find any sign of what happened to him."
"Roger that." Mick nodded and he and Chase moved off.
Beau hobbled but once he located both boots and put them on, his feet didn't hurt as much to walk on. He, Bobby, Karl and Greg first got dressed, then picked up and sorted various items strewn about the campsite.
Greg built the fire up, the mist was annoying and cold, but not heavy or hard enough to douse the fire. He'd just added more wood when shadows materialized of the darkness and took the form of five, large men, dressed all in black. They simply stood at the edge of the camp, quiet and motionless.
"Bravo's here!" Greg sang softly.
"Honey! We're home!" Sonny bellowed. "Now, where's our boy!?"
"Fuck you." Beau retorted, turned his back on Bravo, threw a log on the fire.
"Wrong answer." Sonny raised a shotgun, leveled it at Beau, fired.
"JESUS CHRIST!" Bobby yelped, leaping forward. "The FUCK!"
Sonny fired a second round.
First shot hit Beau in the back of his shoulder; the prick wanted to blow him off and turn his back on him?
Second shot hit Beau's left buttock; because the first shot had sent him crashing to his hands and knees.
Third shot didn't get off because Greg tackled Sonny with a flying leap.
Sonny met him head on, staggered, but didn't go down.
Bravo simply stood in a line and watched.
"Boss!" Bobby rushed to his side as Beau pushed up onto his hands and knees, weaved a bit. "Jesus, where are you hit? Is it bad? Let me see!"
"Oh, for Christ Sake," Trent stepped forward. "It's a fucking bean bag." He was the first to move into the immediate area around the camp fire. "Didn't even break skin."
"Bean bags can cause damage, you asshole." Bobby snapped. "What the hell is wrong with you!? You don't just walk up and shoot people!"
"Bah." Brock smirked. Greg was sprawled on his back, having been flipped over Sonny's shoulder. "This is your campsite?" he said doubtfully, casting a dubious eye overhead, then north, then at the ground. "Here? Did you choose here deliberately? The fuck! Tell me one of your men got hurt and you had to stop here because his life depended on it. Trees overhead, cliff to the north, no protection from the rain, fresh water too far away, no over watch," he rattled off, "Cub scouts could do a better job picking a campsite."
"Don't even start, you fucking prick." Beau snapped, hand holding his ass. He searched out Jason, but Bravo's boss didn't step up to meet him.
Having heard the gun shots, Mick and Chase came running. They saw their boss on the ground, Bobby kneeling over him, Greg just starting to move and with a roar, Mick swung at Sonny, who, with a roar of his own, took the punch on the jaw and swung back.
Chase went after Brock.
"So, that's how it's gonna be." Trent moved closer. "Really?" And he moved to head Karl off from ganging up on Sonny with Mick.
"Gonna break that up?" Ray asked Jason.
"Nope."
Ray shrugged. Three on four, because Greg was back on his feet, with a pissed off Sonny made the odds even. He turned to Beau and Bobby.
"We've had a bad day, so let's make this easy." Ray said. "How long has he been gone?"
"He shot him!" Bobby yelled. "I can't believe you let him shoot him!"
"Keep yapping and he'll shoot you next." Ray shook his head. "Let's try again, what happened?"
Grunts and curses, trash talk and threats, the sounds of fists and bodies hitting the ground didn't faze Ray at all. He just stepped aside when a stray foot caught him in the hip.
"Stay down there dude, I'll give you an ass-kicking you won't soon forget." Someone said.
"Put that gun down!" Bobby ordered. "Christ! HAYES!"
"This gun?" Ray held the retrieved bean bag shotgun. "Five rounds, I believe. So, three to go, in case you're having a hard time keeping count."
"This is our mission Hayes." Beau got to his feet, shaking off Bobby's support. "Butt the fuck out." He hunched his shoulder, raised his arm, extended his hand over his head. "Call your men off." Though his shoulder hurt and would most likely bruise, the bean bag shot hadn't done any damage. His ass though, hurt like a bitch.
"I don't care about your mission." Jason finally stepped forward. "We came to get Spenser."
"Yeah, well, we don't have him." Bobby snarled.
"What are you even doing here?" Beau asked. "We didn't call for back-up." He paused. "Or did your boy?"
"We're taking the dog for a walk." Jason tilted his head. "ENOUGH!" he bellowed. "Ray, give me the lay-out. Trent, what do you have?"
Bravo came together.
Trent toed the pan of water, left sitting with pink water. He tossed the opened packages and wrappers and bloodied, discarded cloths at Beau's feet. "Who's hurt?"
Sonny and Brock stood Ray and Jason, waiting for someone to answer Trent.
"Where's your god-damn dog?" Karl spat a wad of blood in the dirt. "Son-of-a-bitch knocked a tooth lose."
"Shit." Sonny smacked his open palm against his forehead. "Knew we forgot something. Didn't I tell you we forgot something? Brock, where's Cerb?"
"Beau?" Jason prodded. "Is Spenser hurt?"
Silence. No one spoke. No one made eye contact.
"Who got staples?" Trent asked, peering at one Charlie after another.
Ray was unfolding a god-damn, mother-fucking paper map and trying to shield it from the misty rain, Sonny and Brock huddled over it with him. Jason stood with Trent, awaiting answers.
"…we're here….."
"…..cliff to the north…."
"…..hill for over watch there…"
"….water that way…"
"….makes the target….."
"…just over there….."
"…well, shit…. 'hey, here we are, come kill us….."
"Someone had better start talking." Trent said. "Or I'm gonna start cracking skulls until someone does."
"You're out of line!" Beau shouted. "God Dammit Hayes! Who do you think you are?"
Jason whirled, fist darting out and catching Beau right in the mouth. He'd left his vest and gun and backpack on the ground and nothing inhibited his range. A left fist immediately followed the first right and Beau staggered back.
Mick started forward to intervene but Jason pulled back on his own. No one from Bravo even looked up from the map. Trent squatted down to root through more trash by the fire.
"You don't get to stand here and act all oh so self-righteous!" Jason yelled. "You get in my face when YOU fucked up?! Doesn't matter who it is! You put aside your petty bullshit and you find your man!"
"What the hell is wrong with you? You aren't always right Hayes!" Beau turned his head and wiped blood from a split lip on his sleeve. "You come in here shooting! Throwing punches! Demanding answers! Give us a fucking chance to tell you!"
"Me? What is wrong WITH ME? JESUS CHRIST FULLER! HOW STUPID DO YOU THINK WE ARE?!" Jason roared. "This campsite was HIT! There are five dead men over there! All head shots! You think I wouldn't notice?"
"Most likely, Spence was up there." Ray was pointing. "He could see both camps."
"Did they let him go alone?" Sonny growled. "I'll rip someone's god-damn head off!"
"Was he shot?" Trent asked.
"ANSWER HIM!" Jason picked up a length of wood and whipped it across the camp. "GOD DAMMIT! SOMEONE GIVE ME ANSWERS! WHAT HAPPENED?"
"FUCK YOU!" Beau shouted right back. "We were nearly killed in our sleep! What the hell do you want me to say? Now BACK the FUCK off and give us five minutes!"
"But you weren't. You're welcome. Though I haven't heard a thank you." Jason said flippantly.
Charlie to the last man, simply stared, then erupted in anger. No one though, moved on Jason. He out-ranked even Beau.
"For what?" Greg exclaimed incredulously.
"The fuck!"
"That's cold."
"The hell does that even mean?"
"Why the hell would we thank you?"
"Be a cold day in hell, we thank you, you prick."
"That's uncalled for. Jesus Hayes, you can hate me all you want, but my men never did a damn thing to you." Beau spat, man-oh-man, he was having a hard time not pummeling Hayes to the ground.
"Well, yeah, they kinda did." Ray looked up from his study of the map. "They lost Clay."
"Because you're not dead." Jason had regained control, was keeping his tone level. "Because we trained that kid. Because he insisted on going high, get eyes on the target. Because the kid knows you can't tell a fucking thing by watching for twenty minutes. Because he shoots to kill. Oh yeah, I know Spenser took them all out. All head shots tell me that. What the hell were you doing?!"
"Sleeping snug as bugs in their sleeping bags." Sonny coo-cooed. "Ain't that right, boys?"
Mick was fuming, hell, he was ready to blow his top. But Clay Spenser had gone missing on their watch and he and Chase hadn't seen any signs to tell them how it had happened. Bravo, for the moment, was calm, and he wanted it to remain that way.
"No. He wasn't shot." Mick uttered through gritted teeth, hands fisted at his sides. "Yes, that is where he went to get eyes on the camp. Chase and I went with him. Yes, there was a hit on the camp. Yes, Spenser took them all out. Got two from up high, came down, picked off the last three."
"Didn't get all of them." Brock said. "Or he'd still be here with you. They did a good job hitting this place, for you know, farmers." He added sarcastically.
"They thought there were six men here." Ray said.
"Seven." Chase corrected.
"Six visible sleeping bags." Jason said. "If that kid bedded down out in the open like this, I'll run his ass until his feet blister." He kicked at the dirt in disgust. "He knows better."
"He spread out under those pine trees." Brock said.
"How do you know that?" Chase asked.
"Because it's what he was taught to do." Brock said.
"And you know he will just do what he was told even when he's not with you?" Karl scoffed.
"If he wants to live, yeah," Brock glared.
"But he wasn't taken from there." Trent turned. "Or they never would have gotten him."
"No, they came up the cliff." Ray agreed. "So…..he was over there. Right?" he looked at Beau.
"Not possible." Bobby shook his head. "It's a cliff, Chase nearly went down it."
"They know this area, navigate this terrain daily." Brock shook his head. "There are paths, I guarantee it."
"So, you're saying, they just came up a path from the bottom of that cliff, even though their camp is on level ground with ours, snatched him and walked away without any of us seeing anything?" Mick said. "Don't believe it."
"Did any of you expect anyone to come up the cliff?" Ray asked. "No? Right, thought so. The question is, why didn't Spenser fight or call out for help?"
"Where's his sleeping bag?" Brock asked. "There's his backpack, there's his shoulder pack, that's his pan, his bucket, these are his socks. That's his rifle but I haven't found his sleeping bag."
"He was in it." Greg said.
"Christ, all they had to do was grab it and yank him right over the side." Ray shook his head. "Stupid."
"Still doesn't explain why he didn't fight." Trent kicked more blood spotted rags around, "Jesus Jason." He looked at Bobby. "Head injury?"
"How do you know that?" Mick asked, shaking his head.
"I know him." Trent said. "Concussed?"
"No." Bobby said. "He said he wasn't, he was alert and aware the entire time and I saw no signs of a concussion."
"So, you're the medic?" Trent asked, Bobby nodded. "How did he hit his head? Stitches?"
"No." Mick said. "He was jumped up on the hill, fought her off, but left her alive."
"Her?" Sonny jumped on that. "Now, how did a woman get the jump on him? Damn that kid! Why the hell isn't she dead?"
"And if she didn't have a gun, you want him to kill her in cold blood?" Beau snarled.
"Oh, she had a weapon." Sonny shot right back. "I want to know how she got away."
"How do you know she did?" Chase asked.
"She's not here, tied up."
"We went back for her when he told us he'd left her unconscious but alive, she was gone."
"Did he tie her up?"
"I don't know."
"Least he had the balls to knock her out." Sonny sighed. "Least, he'd better have or I'll thrash his ass. How many times do I have to tell that kid? Hands are not off a woman trained to fight who's trying to kill you!"
"Kill him or take him?" Brock tossed out. "Don't matter, got him anyway."
"Oh, he's getting an ass thrashing." Jason vowed. "For letting himself get taken."
"Jace, hey, he's carrying enough." Ray said.
"He made mistakes."
"And it's how he learns."
"Only if he lives to learn the lesson."
"He's hurt Jason." Ray sighed. "Cut the kid a break."
"If he wasn't unconscious and he didn't have a concussion, how did someone take him?" Trent hadn't gotten past that. "Tucked into a sleeping bag or not, he would have fought. Okay, yeah, sure, he might have been groggy from the head butt, but…"
"She, uh, split his forehead open with a rock." Bobby corrected. "Not deep enough for stitches, but yeah, she knocked him for a loop."
"Uh, a weapon." Brock said.
"He was out." Chase said. "So we moved him out of the way where we could keep an eye on him and moved the bodies so we could start cleaning up the camp."
"Good job." Sonny gave them mock thumbs-up. "Good job that. Way to keep an eye on him."
"What do you mean, he was out?" Trent faced off with Bobby and in a blink, had him by the front of his shirt, twisted the bunched material until he gasped, the collar cutting into his throat. "What did you give him?"
"Hey!" Karl yelled, pulling on Trent's wrist in an attempt to make him let Bobby go. "Let him go!"
"I asked what you gave him!" On his feet, Trent had the strength to move Bobby backwards until he came into hard contact with a tree. He had both hands on Bobby now, shook him violently. "You gave him something, don't you dare deny it."
"Hey!" Greg came to help Karl. "Enough! Back off!"
Mick looked at Jason, saw no helping was coming from that direction and turned to Ray. "Call him off."
"Why?" Ray shrugged. "He's a trained Tier One operator, let him fight."
"There's no reason to fight! Not again! Christ, aren't we past that?" Mick's voice rose. "Call him off."
Beau stepped in. "Hayes, call him off. Now."
"Make him answer Trent's question." Hayes replied.
"The kid was in pain, what would you have Bobby do? Ignore that?" Mick demanded.
"Trent told you he had allergies." Ray said to Beau. "Said he had his own med kit. Why the fuck would you not tell your man that and let him give Spenser something else?"
"Did you tell your medic?" Jason demanded.
Beau said nothing.
Karl and Greg succeeded in pulling Trent off Bobby because Trent let him go. Bobby moved out of range of fists and rubbed his throat.
"I only gave him morphine." He scoffed, coughing.
"You're lying." All five Bravo men said instantly.
Trent glared at Bobby. "We've kicked his ass too many times not to have gotten our message across. You gave him something."
"You're gonna have to take my word for it." Bobby sneered. "He was conscious. He knew what I was doing. I gave him morphine from his own fucking med kit. Grey with a red cross. Sound familiar?"
"I don't believe you." Trent moved in front of Bobby. "He may not be here to tell his side, but even so, I don't believe you. He told you he could only have morphine and you gave him something else."
"You're going to trust your man's actions over my man's word?" Beau questioned. "Really Hayes?"
"My men are trained Fuller." Jason stood, hands on his hips, fingers twitching. Every member of Bravo well knew just how fast those hands could lash out, deliver slaps, land a punch. "They don't lie."
"There is no way Clay was taken without a fight if he were awake and alert." Trent insisted. "Hurt or not, if he was aware of what was going on, he wouldn't have disappeared from this camp without you noticing."
Karl shifted his feet, suddenly finding the ground very interesting.
"Something to say?" Ray asked him, giving him a nudge with his elbow.
"No," he muttered.
"Spit it out Karl." Beau ordered.
"It's nothing." Karl shrugged. "Sorry Bobby, but…..when he came down the hill on his ass, I offered….."
"He did what?" Trent pounced.
"He was hurt before this?" Sonny demanded.
"No!" Greg denied. "Chase fell off….over, the uh, cliff, and Clay, who was up high with Mick, saw him step off and came down the hill….."
"That hill?" Brock pointed.
"Uh, yeah." Greg took a step back.
"And he didn't strain or pull something? No road rash? Nothing?" Brock snorted.
"Go on." Ray encouraged quietly.
"He, uh, came down in a slide, went after Chase, hung over the side of...…"
"Wait, he hung upside down?" Sonny interrupted. He stuck a finger in Beau's face. "IF you let that kid drink red Gatorade, then hung him upside down, the next bullet that finds you won't be a bean bag."
"Are you threatening me?" Beau slapped Sonny's hand down. "Back. Off."
"Not really. Not for long. His legs were on firm ground, but yeah, he hung over the side, pulled Chase up….." Mick was telling Trent, who, with each word was growing more and more irritated.
"On his own?" Trent shook his head.
"We were right there." Karl said defensively. "We got them up and later, I offered him some Aleve, but he said….uh….that…..it'd give him leg cramps."
"Now, that there's our boy!" Sonny cackled. "No way he didn't tell you all he could take was morphine."
"He wasn't hurt coming down the hill or pulling your man up?" Brock clarified. "Cause that doesn't seem likely to me."
"He was sore, a little stiff, but he was okay." Chase said.
"Let's just put this on the back burner and go get your boy." Mick said. "Not doing anyone any good standing around here waiting to throw punches."
"We aren't charging in after 'our boy'." Jason scowled. "They're waiting for us to go in guns blazing. We do that, we're all dead."
"We're standing around here waiting for Bobby to tell us what he gave him." Trent said. "So I know if it's something he's had before, if he threw a reaction to it, if it's safe for him to take or if it's something he's never had before."
"I didn't give him anything!" Bobby yelled. "The only injection I gave him was his own morphine."
"Why did he need morphine? Did he ask for it?" Jason asked. "A bump on the head that didn't even require stitches?" he shook his head in denial, disbelief. "Not my men."
"You…." Mick began, shaking his head when Beau leveled him with a look that told him to be quiet. "Sorry Boss, but someone came into this camp and took him. Seconds flat, and he was gone. He didn't walk away on his own and no, Trent, Bobby didn't give him any pain medication. He offered and Clay said no. But Bobby, you did spray both knife wounds with Lidocaine before you stapled him up."
Four pairs of eyes swiveled and landed on Trent who just stood and stared at Greg.
"Knife wounds?" Trent's hands curled into fists. "Both?!"
Sonny stepped forward. "He was stabbed? And you just think to tell us that now?"
"Stabbed where?" Ray demanded.
"Stapled him up?" Brock repeated. "Clay was the one who got staples?"
"Trent, you've never given him that before, have you?" Jason asked.
"No."
"That good or bad?" Brock asked.
"Wouldn't call it good." Trent ran a hand through his hair. "No idea how he's going to react. If he throws a reaction, depends on his ability to fight through it."
"Chances of him throwing a reaction?" Ray asked.
"High." He sighed, feeling his stomach knot. Huh, so this is how Jason always feels. "Where and how many?"
Charlie all looked at Beau who remained silent, so, so did his men.
"He asked you where," Jason repeated softly, tone lethal. His men prepared, oh, they knew that tone. "Now, answer him."
"Four staples in his right thigh, above his knee, inner." Bobby finally said. "Uh, thirteen in his gut."
"Stabbed twice, head split open, jumped, pulled into a fist-fight, came down a gravel hill on his ass, pulled a man up from a cliff, staples, shot up on morphine and you just put him over there?" Trent said with deceptive calmness.
Next think Bobby knew, he was sprawled on his back, he was minus a tooth and the camp erupted into an all-out brawl – Jason and Beau included.