Back in It
Damon was lying in front of his den, arms behind his head and gazing skywards.
"What a week," he groans to himself, he wasn't sure which was worse, teaching the Omegas how to live like Alphas or training the Alphas to become assault canines.
He watched from a distance as the Alphas try to teach Omegas, like Humphrey and Lilly, how to hunt. It was like watching a disaster flick. The Omegas are all clumsy, tripping over each other and causing enough noise to alert a deaf grandfather. They don't seem to be able to take anything seriously; they would burst into fits of giggles in the most random places. Their hunting skills are nothing to boast about either; Damon had watched when the Alpha has set up false trails of caribou tracks that the Omegas were ordered to follow, he had no idea how long they went in circles, long enough for morning to turn into evening that's for sure. The Ghost now understood why the pack was so reluctant to let the Omegas help, it wasn't only for the well-being of the pack, but also for the safety of the Omegas themselves.
Yet what impresses Damon was the fact that the Omegas are so willing to learn, loathed to give up, to strive to a higher position rather than simple Omegas. Especially Humphrey who Damon suspects is doing it for Kate, possibly because he wishes to live up to being her mate, even if he humiliate himself in the process, but he suppose that love may be the main cause of it.
Ready to embarrass himself for his mate, Damon thought to himself, sounds like true love to me.
Humphrey was in fact moving along quite nicely, far better than Lilly. Damon could only watch in dumbfounded horror as Lilly launches herself at a caribou and misses it by a mile. He couldn't really blame her though, after talking and befriending the albino wolf, Damon found she was a gentle soul who was definitely not meant to be a killer of humans or animals.
Winston words kept bouncing around in Damon's head; you can't change the nature of Omegas. Well Damon was keen to at least try; otherwise they'll be neck deep in trouble.
The Alphas are still hunting for the pack, but the Omegas got patrolling down, walking the perimeter of their territory was easy enough; finally giving the Alphas some time to begin their training as assault dogs, or assault wolves in this case.
Unlike the Omegas, the Alphas was use to the rigorous work, running far, using every muscle in their bodies and use to spilling blood, the only problem is they can't take orders. They follow the commands of Winston and Tony but a sort of stubbornness that Damon has dubbed "Alpha pride" is preventing the wolves to do what Damon orders them to do. He tells them to attack the enemy from behind; they want to attack them out in front. He tells them to hide; they want to stay in the open. To the pack, to follow the commands of a human would mean they have submitted themselves to being their slaves like the dogs humans have taken as pets.
Damon has tried numerous times to get them to see reason, all their lives they have been taught to fight off other wolves and that's how they are treating the Federation soldiers; like fellow creatures with teeth and claws.
"The Feds have guns," he tried to point out, "they aren't going to stand in the open and run away like caribou, they are going to stand and fight." Only Garth, Kate and a few other Alphas listen to him while the others tune him out.
Damon shakes his head; they're not ready to face the Feds, and from the chills he's feeling he judges winter is fast approaching now, probably by the end of the month.
I need to get my hands on some caribou hides, Damon thought to himself, buff up my den, get some pieces of wood together and store some meat, I wonder if the wolves will hibernate, I certainly hope the Feds will, pulling off any operation in winter will be tough.
Damon was smiling at the thought of him winterizing his lodging when he heard it, the slight shuffling sound of somebody trying to close in on him discreetly. Damon feels his hands curling into fists, reading himself for an engagement when his other senses told him whoever was approaching was not a threat. He heard the double steps signaling it was a wolf or wolves considering the number of footfalls. The lightness of the treading intruders suggests the walkers are just as lightweight. Then there was the childlike giggles accompanying them.
Damon knew who it was leading the mini pack and without looking behind him he says, "Hello Meadow, how are you and your little gang doing today?"
The five pups all groans before standing up from the tall grass they were hiding in, a mere few feet away from Damon's position.
Meadow walks forward and asks, "How did you know it was us?"
"I could smell you," Damon says as he raises himself and looks at the young wolves. He soon regretted saying that for it looks like the pups believe him.
Max hops forward and begins nipping at Damon's fingers, "are we going to train again today Damon?" he asks between bites.
Damon smiles and nods his head. He's been giving the pups "junior" training, figuring if they learn at a young age it'll be easier for them to fight when they are fully grown. Also, since they are young, they have yet to develop Alpha pride, something he hopes to prevent taking hold of the undeveloped wolves.
The human stands up. Rubs his hands together and says, "All right little hunters, lets go."
The Ghost remains completely motionless as the young wolves once more pass by the tree he was hiding in.
He allows himself to breath and rubs his mask, dried blood still clinging to it; he really needs to wash it. For some reason, hiding just wouldn't be the same if he wasn't wearing his mask.
The small pack of friends came together and it took all of Damon's restraint not to laugh; they are huddle directly beneath the tree he is sheltering in.
"Has anyone seen him at all?" Talia asks.
"His tracks are right here," indicates Devan, "but it leads in a circle, how did he do that?"
"Is he even hiding? He could just be walking around," suggest Ann who was looking over her shoulder every few seconds.
Talia shakes her head, "I don't know, his scent is fading in and out, it's like he's here but not at the same time.
Damon covers his mouth to hide his snicker, maybe he was being a little unfair, maybe he should find another hiding spot other than the tree branch he was sitting on, someplace where it'll be easier for the pups to find him.
Meadow sniffs around once more before she lets out an agitated growl, "Damon!" she calls out in no particular direction in an annoyed voice, "what's the whole point of doing this!?"
These pups didn't realize it, but they have to learn to find their targets, for they most certainly won't be standing out in the open making it easy for the wolves to see them. Another lesson Damon had tried to teach the Alphas that was rebuke since they believe they were already superior hunters. The Ghost thanks God that he has the pups who most certainly didn't act that way.
When Damon didn't reply back, Max lets out a growl, "Maybe we should try and double back, he might be hiding in another part of the forest."
Meadow shakes her head, "No, he wouldn't do that, he said he was going to hide in this exact area."
"So why haven't we found him yet?" Devan challenges.
"I bet he ran off and is now eating caribou, it's almost lunch time," whines Talia.
"You're always hungry," snaps Max.
"Are not!" snarls Talia.
"Are too!" counters Max.
Damon knew what was coming next; maybe he should get down there before…too late. Talia jumps on top of Max and they began tussling around with each other on the grass floor.
Meadow and the others nip and pull on Talia and Max, trying to pull their friends apart. But soon, the occasional bite and kick prove too much for the pup's frustration, it wasn't long before they all join in and once more forms a giant ball of struggling fur. Soon they push and pull each other until they disappear into the thickest of some nearby trees.
Once they were out of sight, Damon lets out his restrain laughter. He knew despite the threats and the growls the pack of pups are all still friends and would never do anything to harm one another.
Figuring it may take them a while to find him; Damon shifts his weight, making himself more comfortable on the tree limb and looks up to the sky.
As he gazes at the bright blue skies, memories of the life down South begin circulating within his mind. The war, poverty, and desolation have reached an all-time high in the North Americas, the likes of which that hasn't been seen since the American civil war nearly two hundred years ago. He remembers fighting beside U.S soldiers and militia men alike; all were trained to fight for freedom, now they are fighting for their very lives.
His eyes soon begin to prickle with tears as he thought of his fallen Ghost brothers. He thought of Falkner, his faithful second in command whose family is still waiting for him in Seattle. He remembers Gordon, he had no sons but he had kin, he was always thinking of his nephews and putting their well-being in front of his own problems whenever he could. He recalls Swans, his dying words, 'tell Alice…I'm sorry'. Their families back home are still waiting, thinking about them, unaware of their mission, unaware of their deaths.
Should I just leave? The question startles Damon, but after a while he begins to reason with himself.
By all means, he's outgun and outmanned, he's injured, has no weapons and the only support he could rely on was a group of wolves who wouldn't take an order from him to save their lives. Besides, he has a responsibility, he should tell his fallen team's families about their losses and how they died heroic deaths in the face of an overwhelming enemy. Plus winter was coming, he's running low on MREs, he's not even sure if he could eat caribou and he most certainly not sure if he can survive the harsh northern winter with makeshift gear.
I wouldn't be called a coward if I just go back would I? He wonders, it's only logical, no help, no supplies and no weapons…honestly what chances do I have at taking down a force of nearly two hundred fully equip Federation soldiers? Besides, I could always go and get help then we'll stand a better chance.
Yet there was something holding him back, a sense of duty, a quarter of responsibility, and a portion of retribution.
He was ordered to interrupt the working of the Federation here in neutral territory and destroy whatever it was that they are working on. He was given the orders by Captain Walker himself, to let down a legend as great as him would be a mistake he would regret for the rest of his life. To leave would mean to let the killers of Ghost team Comanche go free, who knows if they'll stay in the area or move on to somewhere else while he was gone. Even if he was to return, what if they walk into a trap or there's more men then there use to be? Also, what kind of reinforcements can he bring into a neutral country? This would spark war between the U.S and Canada, forcing America to fight on two fronts, which would no doubt lead to their demise seeing they can barely defend one side of their borders.
There was also another reason why he couldn't leave; the wolves. Despite the fact that most of the pack is showing him their hard cold demeanor; there are those among them who stand by his side as friends, Humphrey, Kate, Garth, Lilly and the pups. What would happen if he left and return to find them all slaughtered? Can he live with himself if that happens? A few months ago he wouldn't give a second thought about the value of a wolf's life that is until they cared, shelter, and offered him friendship. They are as innocent as any ordinary citizen of the U.S, he owes them; he owes them by helping to defend them from the Feds.
He lets out a sigh, his mind's not fully content with his decision, but unsure what would be considered the right choice in this situation; Damon just sits and waits for the pups to return. Maybe he can talk to Winston and Tony about it, perhaps they can-
"Damon!"
The Ghost sat up with adrenaline beginning to fuel his body. Meadow's tone of voice was no longer filled with annoyance. Now it was full of anxiety, appeal, and terror. That was all Damon needed to hear.
He jumps from his eight foot high post, tucks into a ball, rolls when he hits the ground, and came back up on his feet, taking off running. As he run he begins to feel his face throb with the rushing blood and his leg is starting to hurt a bit, but he ignored it, he has to find the pups, has to-
He came to a halt when he heard the sound he longs to hear, but now dreaded. The sound caused by a two legged person's footsteps.
Ghost nature taking over, Damon felt his body react to the unknown person. He sought the closest cover he can use for camouflage; he pushes his body into a small hollow in a tree, the shadow obscuring his figure, perfect place to hide. No sooner was he in position did the walker reveal himself.
There wasn't one guy, there is a dozen. And they are all Federation.
They moved in a line, automatic rifles leveled, their ever shifting eyes reveal they are searching for something in the forest. What concerns Damon was their uniforms, they wore black tactical web gear, and their all black attire was matched with a gas mask. Damon has an idea who they are but the patch on their shoulders confirms his theory.
Firstly place on the upper bicep is the Federation flag, a circular constellation over a black and red background. Below the flag is a patch of a badger like creature; teeth bared with menacing eyes, the words on top matches the image, "Uno Diablo": the official patch of the First Devil's Regiment.
The Diablo's are the fiercest non-Special Forces soldier in the Federation army. They are notorious fighters, both in arms and hand to hand combat. They often lead the charge in the name of the "glorious Federation"; some has dubbed them as the dark side of the U.S Rangers. They are a handful, they hardly ever surrender, hardly ever retreat, if they are on the verge of failure, they let loose an entire arsenal of gas weapons. With their prowess in combat and the high number of casualties they inflict, the Diablos lives up to their name.
Remembering the horrors these men are responsible for causes Damon to panic as his remaining eye begins twisting everywhere within his skull, trying to locate the pups. He didn't see them and he hasn't heard gun fire, so he hopes they are hiding just as he instructed them to do in this kind of situation.
He breaths calmly as the soldiers move away from his position, his mind trying to formulate a plan of action. There are way too many tangos for him to engage up front, he had no weapons, and his body was still recovering. He glances back at the soldiers and curses his luck; they are making their way slowly towards the pack's dens. If they stumble upon the pack, it'll be a massacre.
Realizing what was at stake, Damon looks around for an improvise weapon and was reluctant as he bends down to pick up a fist size rock. It may have suited his ancestors back in the day, but it won't be much help in the twenty first century.
He makes sure the Diablos are far away enough before he begins climbing the tree he was hiding in. He grabs the low branches and the tips of his fingers are able to find every subtle groove as he makes his way up. Finally up as high as he could possibly go, Damon cautiously walks on the limb of the tree, testing it's sturdiness by placing his foot in front of him and applying light pressure. He made his way to the end of the nearest branch, looks to the next tree closest to him, breaths, and jumps.
He nearly misses the target tree branch but was able to grab on tight to it with his free hand while the other held on tightly to the large rock he had picked up. He quickly climbs back up and waits for the shooting to start. When none was for coming he assumes he's in for the clear and continues the process, walking through the trees and jumping to the next; trying to make as little noise as possible and prevent a numerous amount of needles from falling.
Eventually he was right over the Fed soldiers; they are too busy scanning for threats in front of them to glance upwards for any dangers. Damon analyses his options. They are too bunched up; he can't make a kill, not without getting killed himself. In these types of situations he has been taught to wait until he was presented a window of opportunity. Well he can't wait, it won't be long before the Feds gets to the dens, he needs to move; now.
The Ghost continues to scan for a solution when he sees one. The Feds are coming up on a crag, the soldier at the end of the line will pass close by it; dangerously close.
Seeing his window, Damon leaps to another tree. He jumps three more times before finding himself in lower lands, the crag resting at the top of a small hill, marking the Feds location.
Damon jumps from the safety of the canopies of the trees and rushes to the small ledge. His leg muscles burn as he runs up the steep hill, ending at the rocky line. He lies down close to the edge and looks down, the hill rolls by at least ten feet, by the time he gets back down; the Diablos will be onto him. He thinks for another minute of how he was going to assault before loosening his hand holding the rock, reading for the engagement.
He listens and waits. Slowly, but almost mechanically, the sound of boots approaches. They are trying their best to remain anonymous, but he hears them, the crunching of needles, clicking of boots against stone and the occasional mutter of Hispanic.
His target was close, almost on top of him. Damon lets loose a silent sigh, made sure his mask was adjusted correctly so he can see out of it. This was it; he was back in the fight.
The Federation soldier was mindful where he places his boot, but in this situation it didn't help one bit. As soon as his left foot lands firmly on the ground, Damon reacts with the speed of light. He slams the rock onto the Fed's foot, causing him to double over as he curses. As he bends down Damon grabs his vest and pulls him over the ridge, with Damon hanging on all the while.
As they tumble down the hill, Damon executes the next phase of his ambush. Hanging on tightly to the stun soldier, Damon waits until they near a tree to flip himself over, bringing the Diablo with him. When the soldier lands on the other side of Damon it was too late for the Diablo to save himself, the speed of their tumbling has a shattering effect as the Diablo's head hits the tree.
When they reach the bottom, Damon was moving to check if the soldier was still alive when he saw the rest of the Diablos standing on top of the crag. Damon goes prone and presses his body underneath the Fed he was about to inspect. The Diablo's combat vest and his body provided excellent cover for Damon as he waits for the barrage of bullets to stop. Listening to the sound of rounds slamming into the Fed's body, Damon guesses the Diablo was dead now.
Finally the gunshots came to a lull, forcing the Ghost to act quickly. As he rolls away from his improvise cover, he reaches over the Fed to grab his rifle but found it gone, probably rip away from the fall. So he went for the next best thing, Damon grab the pistol and combat knife. He turns and sprints off into the forest just as the gun fire begins again, bullets causes the dust and needles at Damon's feet to jump as they miss their target.
Once back into a desolate part of the woods, Damon keeps running and using his speed to his advantage; he launches himself skywards and clings onto a tree. Damon climbs as fast as he can until he reaches the point where the tree could no longer support his weight. Once there he settles on a large branch and quickly looks over his prizes.
The pistol was one of his favorite designs, a P226, accurate, can hold a large capacity of bullets and it look plain cool. However it only has one mag, if he's careful, doesn't miss and cautious, he can probably take out the rest of the feds with the dozen bullets the gun possess, that is unless of the Feds don't hit him first with their longer range weapons.
He then looks to the knife. It has razor sharp teeth on the front side with a large square of an edge on the very top. The blade looks sweet too, but the top feels over weight, pulling the tip down a bit and too bulky compared to the small knives he was use to work with. A Ghost knife was smooth, use to make quick kills; this blade was obviously design to cause a whole lot of damage, not much more than that.
As Damon finishes his inspection, the rest of the Diablos runs through. The remanding eleven are still scanning for dangers in front of them, unaware of the Ghost's vantage point. However, they are following his trail, when they reach the tree it won't be long before they look up and receive a surprise.
Damon wasn't ready to give up his best shooting spot so he was making ready to move when one of the Diablos, the leader Damon supposes, begins issuing orders. One of his men closest to the tree Damon was hiding in pulls out a radio.
Seeing the device fills Damon with hope and dread. If he can get his hands on the radio he can call for help, maybe get advice from Captain Walker. However, if the Fed speaks into the radio and let his superior know of his existence, then things are going to get real messy real fast.
Seeing only one plausible way of getting the radio by hand Damon holds the knife in front of him and jumps from the tree branch. As he falls, the light of the noon sun shines on his back, making him a shadowy silhouette as the Federation radioman looks up. As he gets closer, Damon sees the man's eyes widen in astonishment before Damon lands on top of him, plunging the butcher of a knife deep into his chest. They both fall to the ground, but it didn't end there.
Damon takes the pistol and points it to the Fed next to him. The soldier was still reeling in shock from what just occurred, but Damon finishes him off before he became a problem. In quick succession Damon shoots the Fed once in the leg and once in the chest before returning his attention to the radio man who is still alive. He fires off one shot into the man's chest before yanking out the knife and grabs the radio in the dying man's hand.
By the time the rest of the Federation soldiers open fire, Damon was running through the trees again. As he runs Damon checks the radio and curses. It was a short wave radio; unless there was a U.S base within a ten mile radius close to the Canadian border, his plan for calling for help was useless. Suddenly gun fire interrupts his thinking as the Feds open fire, trying to shoot through the cover of the trees.
Hearing fast approaching foot steps behind him Damon drops to the floor and rolls until he was hidden within the protectiveness of the shrubs. He pockets the radio and knife, grips the pistol with both his hands and raises it to where he predicts an average man's chest would be. Soon bursting from the trees are two more Feds. Damon fired four shots in a straight bloody line, two of each hitting the men. With chest wounds inflicting great pain upon them, the pair of soldiers' drops likes sacks of potatoes.
Damon runs forward once more and without stopping picks up one of the man's rifles and ran in the opposite direction of where he was heading earlier as he tries to confuse the remaining Fed soldiers.
Damon glances down, trying to see what kind of gun he grabbed when a body emerges in front of him. Seeing the person raising a machine gun, Damon feigns falling forward, trying to catch the man off guard. It works, the soldier lowers the gun but Damon quickly finds his footing and slams into the Diablo. He pushes the solder for what felt like ten yards until they finally slams into a tree. Out of the corner of his eye Damon saw the emergence of another Federation soldier who was aiming his rifle at the Ghost. Wasting no time, Damon knees the Diablo in the stomach, out of reflex, the gunner's finger pulls the trigger and hundreds of bullets escapes the muzzle. The Fed who was trying to flank them lifts off his feet before falling to the earth. With the threat neutralized, Damon head butts the Diablo he has pinned to the tree, shattering the glass of the gas mask. Daze by the action, Damon took advantage of this; he grabs the vest of the Diablo and takes off running to the right until they ram another tree. With the mask destroyed, Damon repeatedly slams the Diablo's face against the tree trunk until the mask was complete junk and the face was bloodied. Damon lets the Diablo drop to the ground and finishes the gruesome work with a shot from his newly claimed rifle.
He quickly looks down and sees he has attained a SA-805 assault rifle. Good range and can give good supporting fire. He looks down at the two Diablos and quickly inspects them. The machine gun was an Ameli, which brought back the sad mental image of Falkner's gruesome demise. He then looks to the other man who had sported a SA rifle as well.
Suddenly there was a hiss and out of nowhere four smoke grenades flew into the area and begins building up steam as soon as they land. However, Damon knew whatever was being emitted from the canisters wasn't smoke. The Ghost took the undamaged gas mask off of the Fed he was just inspecting and went prone once more.
The strange smoke soon took on a grey look; it must be tear gas. Then he sees three targets approaching from three different directions. Damon tries to listen to see if the rest of the soldiers are hiding behind the screen, waiting to help assist their comrades if they needed help. Which they did.
Damon cuddles the rifle in his hand, keeping his grip loose until the last possible second. The three men met in the middle, talking to one another, unaware that their advisory was lying just a few feet away from them; perfect.
Damon quickly raises his rifle and fires. He wastes the whole clip as he aims for the heads of the three Diablos.
The men let out cries of surprise, except for one as one of the bullets that Damon has fired found a mark though one of the glass porthole of the man's mask. The other two tries to find a target but soon begins to suffocate as the fractures that Damon's gun has caused leaks in the gas. With both soldier's throats and eyes burning, it was almost sad as Damon easily dispose of them with two shots from his pistol.
Damon quickly took stock of his equipment. He only has three bullets left for his pistol and no more magazines for the rifle. He tries to search for where the other rifle was, but the man-made fog soon obscures the ground, making it near impossible for him to see anything.
Suddenly a round splits through the air and hits Damon in the left shoulder forcing him to the floor. Damon lies still at an odd angle and tries to breathe slow and even breaths as the pain begins to fill his body. One shot, accurate through the gas, must be a sniper with thermal, not a whole lot of damage done, must have been a Lynx rifle, small but effective. As these thoughts race around in his mind, the Ghost soon hears the sound of approaching footsteps coming closer and closer.
Damon thought again of what he was facing. A dozen armed tangos, ten eliminated, leaving only two left, the sniper and whoever it was approaching. Damon sighs as he readies himself for another engagement. His pistol was still in his pocket and so was the knife, he couldn't reach it in time should he try and pull a fast one on whoever it is that is approaching.
As if summon by his thoughts, the Diablo appears from the mist, closing in on Damon's position. The Ghost stays still as the black figure approaches, almost as if he was Diablo himself. The man has a SC-2010 in his hands, is walking with a sort of confidence that reminds Damon of the wolves heavily drunk on Alpha pride.
As the Diablo approaches, Damon quickly goes through the facts in his head. He was playing dead; he'll be gunned down before he can reach for any of his pocket weapons. He can't see any other guns or knives close at hand on the ground either. The only way for him to get out of there is by fighting hand to hand combat; a lucky blow can loosen either of the fighter's gas masks, letting the toxic fumes in. Fighting a man who also has a sniper on his side is going to be difficult.
Damon discreetly looks to his wound and runs quick mathematics through his mind. The sniper must be position somewhere in front of Damon, a little to the left of him. If the sniper remains in the same spot and if he can manipulate the fight to his advantage than maybe he can avoid being shot at. That is unless the approaching Diablo kills him first.
That was when the Fed appears over him. Damon tries not to move as the soldier looks over what he assumes to be a corpse. The gas mask has tinted glass, making it nearly impossible for the Diablo to be able to tell if Damon was awake or not. The Fed uses the tip of his rifle and pokes Damon's newly claimed wound. The Ghost bites down on his tongue as a wave of fire sweeps through his body, it's a miracle that his body didn't flinch out of reflex.
The Diablo studies Damon some more before making a disgusted grunt.
The soldier then raises his boot, making ready to kick Damon's mask off.
Here we go, Damon thought.
The boot came down in an attempt to crush Damon's head but the Ghost moved too fast. With the speed of a viper, Damon grabs the booted foot with both hands and gives a firm twist which is rewarded with a satisfying crack.
The Diablo lets out a howl of pain before Damon grabs his upper leg, forcing himself up, Damon went up in the air before twirling, bringing the soldier into a painful heap on the ground. There is a whizzing sound and not too far from them, a nearby tree's bark exploded from the sniper bullet's impact.
That's two, Damon counts in his mind.
The Diablo is now fighting back. He begins to knee Damon in the ribs, causing the Ghost to grunt in pain. The Ghost tries to subdue the commander but the recently injured arm in now taking its toll; the intense heat of pain was sapping his energy, giving the less skilled warrior a fighting chance. Damon knocks the knee out of the way and slams a fist into the Fed's stomach. Both brawlers' cringles in pain; the Fed from the blow to the stomach and Damon from slamming his fist into the Diablo's heavy combat vest. The Diablo got the upper hand again, or in this case, the upper foot. He places both feet against Damon's chest and kicks him off. Damon didn't fight to stay on his feet, instead he throws himself back onto the ground, just as another bullet flies in overhead and misses him by an inch.
That's three; Damon marks off in his head.
The Diablo commander jumps to his feet and grabs Damon, the Ghost tries to retaliate but with surprising strength the soldier throws him against a nearby tree, nearly knocking his protective mask off. The Ghost suddenly realizes he was in danger and quickly leaps behind the tree. A mere half second later, a bullet strikes the tree where Damon was just standing.
Four, counts Damon.
The Diablo has enough of games; he is reaching down to pick up his rifle when Damon sees him. Casting away safety, the Ghost rushes forward and jumps on top of the enemy forcing him to the ground once more. Damon feels a scrape on his ribs and risk a quick look. There was a tear in his t-shirt, blood slightly oozing from the steel hot wound.
Five, Damon's mind whizzes.
The two forces continue to struggle. A fist slams into Damon's head, a kick went into the Diablo's chest, a head butt almost knocks Damon's mask a screw and a devastating right hook combo must have broken one of the Diablo's ribs. As they continue to wrestle, Damon makes sure that they are always tumbling over one another, making it harder for the sniper to get a bead on Damon.
As they struggle, the Diablo sends a karate chop to Damon's exposed neck, cutting off his air supply. Damon tries to take in a deep breath, but suddenly the Fed caught him in a locked position, station behind Damon, the Diablo holds his arms and was bumping his head against Damon's head. The Ghost felt dizziness taking over, blackness was starting to overwhelm him when the Diablo yells out something in Hispanic, sounding demanding; an order.
This was what Damon has been waiting for. He waits for a half second to go by when he struck back. He bangs his head against the incoming gas mask of the Diablo, causing the mechanism to slam painfully against the Fed's face. Disorientated, the Diablo loses his grip, giving Damon his much needed opportunity. He once again flips over, now having the Diablo on top. The Federation soldier tries to get out of the way of the impending danger, calling out an order as he did so, but it was too late. A sniper bullet went through his back, and tore out the other end, but the vest stops the bullet from hitting Damon who was lying underneath the now decease Diablo commander.
"*Seis!" calls out Damon, "You're out amigo!" with that Damon jumps to his feet and runs towards the sniper position.
He knew he was taking a risk running towards a sniper, but he needs to end the fight now, for all he knows the Feds could have heard the commotion and will be incoming soon. Damon takes out his pistol but stays the knife. He wants this last Fed alive, he needs to get some answers out of the soldier.
He was running by a thick tree when he stops. Nesting in between two out sprouting branches was the Lynx rifle; the shooter was using nature to keep his rifle steady. So where was he?
No sooner did Damon think that did he turn around and sees a black figure sprinting away. Damon took off after the Diablo, if he gets away; he would most definitely lead more Feds back to the area. As he runs, Damon rips off the gas mask he has been using and is now able to breathe easier, allowing him to run faster. The Fed was desperately trying to get away, but the person was in a state of panic, he was tripping and running into object, slowing him down considerably as Damon keeps a steady pace.
As the distance between them grew smaller, the Fed began screaming Hispanic sentences at Damon who ignored it for a moment before the Diablo begins speaking a badly accented English, "I-I-I'll kill you American! S-stay away!"
Damon didn't listen; in fact he only increases his speed. Noticing this, the Diablo screams again, "I'll kill you! I swear I'll kill! I'm not afraid!"
"Then why are you running!" calls back Damon.
He was six feet away.
Four feet.
Two feet.
It wasn't until Damon was a foot away from the Fed did the soldier makes a move.
The Diablo made a sudden stop, turns on the spot and whips out a pistol that Damon hasn't seen. The soldier tries to fire in Damon's face, but the Ghost grabs his gun hand and points the weapon away. He then notices the Diablo's hand was reaching behind his back and pulls a knife. The Diablo pulls it back and made to plunge it into Damon's gut, the action forces Damon to drop his own pistol and catch the knife with his now free hand, keeping it at bay.
With both hands occupied and noticing a log next to him, Damon performs the first act that came to his mind. He pulls the Diablo to the fallen tree and flips both of them over the log, forcing the Diablo to let go of both his weapons.
Damon jumps on top of the disorientated soldier and once tries to subdue him. The Fed counters with a fist to the head, followed by a solid kick. Damon is forced off the soldier and was knock against the log when the Diablo decides to try one of Damon's tricks and launches himself at the Ghost.
With the grace of a bull fighter, Damon steps out of the way at the last second, grabs the soldier by his vest and pants and adds more kinetic energy to the force of the leap and send the soldier flying towards the fallen log at a greater speed. Damon was hoping this would knock the Diablo out. He wasn't expecting the loud crack as the soldier's head slams into the fallen tree.
Damon runs forward and checks the Fed. He curses to find that the soldier was indeed gone.
The Ghost lets loose a disappointed sigh as he sits on the ground, relishing his small victory. He didn't get to interrogate one of the Federation soldiers, but he did help to keep them away from the wolf pack dens.
He suddenly tenses at the thought of wolves.
Oh no, his panic mind thought, the pups! I completely forgot about them!
He picks up the Fed's pistol and runs back to where the fighting has started. He runs past the bodies of the Diablo soldiers, forgoing their weapons and equipment, his mind solely fixed on finding the pups.
Please may they be alright, he kept thinking, almost praying.
He finally reaches the small hill leading up to the ridge. The first time he climbed it, it burned his legs. Now however he rushes upwards ignoring the pain. He runs down the beaten trail where the soldiers have traveled until he reaches the spot where he first saw them, when he saw the hollowed out tree where he was hiding in earlier.
"Meadow!" he calls, no longer caring if there was still Federation soldiers in the area, "Max! Talia! Ann! Devan!"
There was no answer.
Damon was feeling tears seep into his eyes when he starts to fear the worse when he heard a timid voice behind him, "D-Damon?"
The Ghost twists around to see Talia and Devan. Beaming, Damon lets out a whoop and picks both pups in his arms, happy that the Feds didn't get to them.
The pups begin squirming and Devan cries, "Damon! Put us down!" The Ghost was shock when he hears the fear in the pup's voice.
He puts them down and steps back. He starts to panic when he saw the pups covered in blood but then realizes it wasn't theirs. A sudden realization took over, causing the Ghost to look at himself.
He looks like he went through giant meat grinder. His clothes, T-shirt and pants, was torn, his pants was completely ruin and he was able to see his bare chest through a gaping hole in his shirt. Yet what he realizes that freaked out the pups was the blood, he was covered in it. From the toes of his boots to his Ghost mask he found that they are covered in wet, warm blood. Damon was beginning to freak out himself as he grew unsure which of the crimson liquid was his until after a brief search did he find only a dozen scratches, minor wounds compared to what he did to the Feds.
Hopping to reassure the young wolves a bit, he pulls off his mask and reveals his scarred face, which usually scares the pups, but now they smile when they see the familiar appearance. Now they run to him and start to cuddle his legs. Damon responds by picking them up and giving them a hug, sighing in relief that they are okay until he realized something.
He pulls the wolves back a bit and asks, "Where are the others?"
The expressions of relief left the pups, becoming one of sorrow. They squirm a bit, forcing Damon to put them back down.
"Follow us," Talia simply said in a suddenly hoarse voice as she and Devan led the way deep into a dense part of the tree. Fearing what might have happened, Damon hurries after them.
Within the clump of trees was a small clearing and within was a sad scene. Meadow and Max are huddle together, shivering slightly while two other wolves lay on the other side of the clearing. One was Ann; she was lying on top of a larger wolf and was whimpering so badly that it actually hurt Damon's heart. He was wondering what was wrong when he saw it, a puddle of blood seeping from the larger wolf. Damon steps forward and peers closely at the decease wolf and his eyes widen a bit.
It was an Alpha, Damon recognizes him as one of the wolves that attends the daily training exercises. He was one of the Alphas who had Alpha pride, who often didn't listen to him and tunes him out whenever he tried to tell the Alpha's something important. Then it really hit him; the Alpha was brown, the exact color as Ann.
His theory was confirm when Meadow and Max rushes over and begins to whimper. Damon got on his knees and holds the four pups close. When they calm down he finally asks, "Who is…was that?"
Max's voice croak as he answers, "Ann's brother."
Damon could only nod. He hugs the pups for another minute before getting up and walks over to Ann. She was shivering and whimpering, her face buried in her brother's fur, as if he was asleep and she was hoping he would wake up. Unsure of what to do, Damon simply kneels down and begins to stoke Ann's fur. He didn't know how much time past until Ann finally moves away from her brother's remains and instead lays her head on Damon's lap as he continues to rub her fur gently.
He looks at the body and wonders what it was that Ann's brother was doing. Was he planning on going hunting? Was he going on patrol? Or did he just show up at the wrong place at the wrong time?
It was as if Ann could hear his thoughts for she begins to whimper again. Damon tenderly picks her up and holds her against his chest as he whispers, "Ann…I'm sorry but we have to go, more soldiers may come soon."
He wasn't sure if she understood but she nods her head as she buries her face into Damon's blood soak shirt, as if the red matter was a far more pleasant sight rather than her brother's body. He rises to his feet and nods to the other pups to lead the way.
Cautiously they left the trees and begin their journey back to the dens. As they walk the pups keep flinching at every sound, from the snapping of twigs to the chirping of the birds, and Damon didn't blame them. It was about noon time, so why does it feel as if the whole world was a place of darkness?
As they walk, they pass the ridge where the fighting has started. Meadow let out a small cry when she looks down and stares at the dead body of the first Diablo Damon had attack. Noticing she was captivated by the sight, Damon gently nudges her with his boot and says, "Keep moving," which she gratefully did.
Along the way Ann's whimpering cease and soon she falls into a fitful sleep. Nobody spoke, they are all silent for they didn't want to wake Ann, but also (though they didn't say it) so they won't attract attention. Finally after what felt like hours of journeying they made it to Howlers rock, where they can see the dens just a couple of yards away.
Before they went any farther however, Damon looks down at Ann's sleeping form before crouching down next to Meadow and asks, "Did you see what happened to her brother?"
"Y-yes," replies Meadow as she looks down looking uncomfortable.
Damon notices this and asks, "Meadow, what happen? I can't help unless you tell me what happened."
The young she-wolf looks to Damon with fearful eyes, looks to Ann and finally said, "We were wrestling one another while we were searching for you."
Damon nods as he remembers this.
"We were finishing up when we saw…them" she finishes with a shiver.
Damon nods again; there was no need for her to tell him who they are.
"Did her brother happen upon them? Was he hunting, on a patrol, what happened?" Damon asks.
Meadow wasn't looking at him as she stares at the ground. Damon was getting ready to coax it out of her when she looks up and said the last thing he expected, "I think…I think we saw him leading the soldiers to the dens."
*Six