Later that morning
Friday
New Year's Day 2016

Location: Buck Island

Time: 03:35

She was scared and she was shivering with the cold even as her Mother wrapped her arms around her.

She began to feel safe for the first time. The roughness of the military clothing and body armour against her skin felt surprisingly reassuring to her as the arms clung to her like glue. The sight of her Father, standing not too far away, clad in similar military clothing and body armour gave her a feeling of pride, security and well-being. She had been shocked to find out who had come to rescue her from captivity and even more shocked to find out who had been beneath the masks.

Her Father had replaced his own mask soon after allowing her to see his face, however her Mother, had not. She had rising suspicions about the identity of the other masked vigilantes who stalked the perimeter toting large and angry looking weaponry, ready to tear into anybody who dared to approach. She desperately wanted to leave, but her Mother was busy talking to her captor, using words, some of which she had never heard before, but all of which she knew were bad, very bad.

..._...

As she focussed on the man that had tormented her, she felt an intense anger building up inside of her, like she had never felt before in her short life. She had the irresistible urge to want to hurt the man and that thought scared the seven-year-old girl to her core.

As she watched, Hit Girl kicked the man in the chest, sending him sprawling onto his backside. His hands were bound behind him, so he yelled out in pain as he landed on the floor.

"Do you know who you were fucking with?" Hit Girl growled with venom in her tone.

The man just shook his head; he looked scared, really scared.

"Do you know who that little girl belongs to?"

Again, the man shook his head.

"I am Hit Girl; she is my daughter and you are going to die..."

A rush of recognition spread across the man's face.

Everybody knew about Hit Girl and what she was capable of. It was obvious by his expression that he knew he had made an enormous mistake. The fear in the man's face seemed to move on and he started to shake. I felt nothing but hatred for the man; I wanted him to die – he had hurt me and taken me from my family. I so wanted to hurt him. I got to my feet and walked over to Mom.

"Hi, honey," Mom said, looking down at me as I hung onto her arm.

I looked up into her eyes and then down at the man lying on the floor.

"I want to hurt him..."

I saw shock in my Mom's eyes and on her face, but only for a moment as she smiled, ignoring the man on the floor. She knelt down and looked into my eyes.

"That is a big step, honey – but if you want to, you can."

I felt a hand on my shoulder – it was Dad, he nodded down at me and smiled.

"I want to kill him..."

Now, she was really scared.

The young girl wrapped her small hands around the butt of the small pistol – small it may have been, but the Walther P22 was still large in her hands. She shook from head to toe at the thought of the power that she held in her hands. The man was hauled to a kneeling position before her. A puddle of clear liquid spread across the floor beneath the man.

Her Mother gently whispered encouraging words into her ear as her larger hands braced the pistol.

"Breathe in and out, in and out. Keep calm, both eyes open, aim the pistol at your target – centre mass – the chest is good..."

The man's eyes were wide with fear. What shocked me was that I actually enjoyed his fear; I was in control, instead of him – he was at my mercy. Mom's whispering continued as I focussed on my target.

"Feel the anger, think of what he did to you and focus that into hate... When you are ready, gently squeeze the trigger, again and again..."

I focussed along the top of the weapon, keeping both eyes open. Then, as my breathing became slow and regular, I gently squeezed the trigger. The pistol jerked in my hand. My brain registered a flash, followed by a large bang and some smoke. I squeezed again, and again, and again – ten times I squeezed before the pistol just clicked with each further squeeze.

..._...

What did I feel? I felt nothing.

Mom gently lifted the pistol out of my hands, and I looked up into her face. She smiled down at me reassuringly before she stood up and pulled on her mask and helmet, switching her identity in an instant. Even though I was now looking at Hit Girl; I knew that she was still my Mom.

I finally turned to the man. He was lying on his back and his chest was covered in blood and his shirt was ripped to shreds. There was a large pool of blood spreading around him. I would have expected to have been freaked out by what I was seeing, but I was not. Why?

I looked up at my Father; he nodded his approval, as did the vigilante that I recognised as Shadow. Another man began to move on the other side of the room. There was a single gunshot and Shadow replaced the pistol in her holster – that man did not move again.

..._...

"Come on, little sis..."

I felt another arm around my shoulders – familiar. Despite the mask and blood-soaked combat gear, I knew that it was my big sister, Steph. I smiled, still overawed by everything that was happening around me.

"Here, put this on..." She said and handed me a t-shirt.

I dragged it on and was then helped into a thick camouflaged jacket.

"This is body armour; it will help protect you as we head back to the boat..." Steph went on calmly, securing the jacket around me – it was heavy.

I got a close up look at all the blood on Steph's gear – I hoped none of it was hers. I took in the large knife and the pistol on her belt – she was all business. I struggled to comprehend that my nine-year-old sister was armed to the teeth, but I had no chance to get my mind straight as I was dragged off by Steph, towards the destroyed door.

My sister pushed me roughly against the wall with her left hand and raised her machine-gun with her right, before sending a short burst down the corridor and then she moved, pulling me with her. Immediately behind me, were Mom and Dad.

Dad was facing the other way, watching behind us, an enormous machine-gun in his hands.

"You guys had better hustle – we have many inbounds from the north..."

"Copy that, Jackal – we're moving out now with Rogue."

I was worried now – the ride out was not going to be easy. We had my daughter; now we had to get her to safety... I tried to shield her from the violence and dead men, but that was going to be impossible. I forced myself to focus on the extraction and not my daughter.

As we came around a corner, we found ourselves back in the kitchen. There was a woman there – she wore body armour, but instantly dropped her pistol to the floor and raised her hands. She glared at Rogue who moved closer to Psyche, gripping her left arm tightly.

Psyche looked down at her sister for a moment.

"Did that woman hurt you?" She asked Rogue.

Rogue nodded. Psyche's lip curled, she raised her MP7 and sent three, three-round bursts into the woman, sending her flying backwards across the kitchen before the corpse crashed into a glass-fronted refrigerator. The body was quickly covered in cakes and other items of chilled food.

"She won't hurt you or anybody again... She got her just desserts!"

Shadow actually laughed as we moved out of the kitchen.

Gunfire erupted from the next corridor and Psyche yanked Rogue down and thrust her against the wall, putting herself between the danger and her sister.

Wildcat took up position behind Psyche as backup. Rogue put her hands over her ears and hunched against the wall – I could see her shaking with fear. Our stocks of ammunition were getting low – very low! We had to break out and soon – in the jungle and the trees we would stand a chance.

"I'll handle this..." I growled as I reached behind me and into my webbing. I winked at Kick-Ass "Corridors are my speciality!"

My hands reappeared holding an FN Five-seveN in each hand. I dived over towards a small counter ignoring the bullets that hammered into it. I sat on my haunches, leaning against the counter and steadied my breathing, my two pistols held up either side of my head. A flood of six-year-old memories appeared unbidden in my mind, but I shoved them away and focussed on taking out the gunmen.

"Hit Girl is moving in three – two – one..."

I rose up from behind the counter, diving out to my right and began firing each pistol – not a round was wasted as I sent death in every direction – using the furniture to jump into the air, I rolled and flipped my way down the corridor using the walls as leverage for my next dive towards a target.

My eyes kept sight of each of the dozen or so gunmen as I moved. I dived to avoid their bullets, watching their aim and dodging accordingly – I felt bullets passing very close and I was certain some had clipped me.

I span as two bullets connected with my body armour throwing me off and I hit the corridor wall before falling to the floor. A man came close but I sent three bullets into his groin and another into his face dead centre. Three more men appeared at the far end of the corridor, only six feet away. I raised both pistols from my crouched position and was about to fire when the three men seemed to explode with blood and flesh flying...

I turned to see four weapons spitting fire as Kick-Ass, Shadow, Wildcat and Psyche poured bullets into the three men, shredding their bodies.

Silence reigned as the three bodies fell to the floor of the corridor in a pool of blood and shredded flesh.

"Don't do that again!" I cautioned Hit Girl as I strode past. "You looked beautiful out there..."

My wife smiled up at me as she reloaded her pistols before keeping them in her hands ready for use. Psyche came forward with Rogue, averting the younger girl's eyes from the carnage about her. Shadow and Wildcat came last, covering our rear. I was down to my last two-hundred round belt for the Minimi and had just two thirty-round magazines left for my G36K.

Jackal joined us as we left the residence. He had been lying prone on the ground, sending short bursts of fire north from his Minimi. I pressed the button on a detonator and the charge that I had placed on the SUV detonated, taking two men with it.

Kick-Ass sent half a dozen smoke rounds towards the road from his FN40GL-S 40-millimetre grenade launcher.

Time: 03:55

We ran across the beautifully manicured lawn and down into the trees.

From the sound of the gunfire, we would need to fight our way back down to the beach. Dawn was rapidly approaching and we could 'see' and 'be seen' as the light level steadily increased. We gathered together for a moment and checked over our ammo loads.

Hit Girl had just blown through forty rounds and I knew that she was low on ammo for her G36C. Shadow had just over half a magazine left for her P90 – about thirty rounds. Wildcat and Psyche had one thirty round magazine left, each.

We also had injuries – three. Nothing serious, but a dressing was applied to Hit Girl's upper left arm and the same for Psyche and Jackal. Psyche had taken a bullet to her right thigh – only a gouge, but it still bled and Psyche was ignoring the pain, just as Hit Girl did. Jackal had received shrapnel in his left shoulder from a grenade, but that would have to wait until we got back to the Atlantic Storm.

I was annoyed at being wounded, but shit happened and that corridor had been murder...

I was more worried about Psyche and Jackal, but they told me to 'stop fucking winging' – damn Brits! Once we were all sorted out, we began the trek back to our assault boats. Trojan and Splinter had reported men coming ashore near them, with vehicles. They were in a difficult situation – they could not engage without compromising our boats – our escape. They had to guard the boats and they would both be safe as long as nobody headed in their direction.

I turned as I heard a helicopter, back up at the residence.

That had to be more reinforcements... Damn it!

..._...

The first fifty yards were fine, but then the bullets began to fly from two different directions and we caught in a deadly crossfire.

Psyche and Wildcat were lying on top of Rogue, keeping her protected at all costs as the bullets cut through the dense vegetation. We were pinned down and our two Minimi machine guns were getting low on ammunition. We could not move without endangering our lives. Then I heard the whine of multiple turboshaft engines and the throb of many rotor blades – kind of reminded me of Apocalypse Now...

..._...

Four helicopters flew overhead in formation.

Two were United States Navy MH-60R Seahawk helicopters and were armed with four Hellfire missiles each. Flying as escort, were a pair of Royal Navy AW159 Wildcat HMA.2 maritime attack helicopters, crewmen evident in the doorways firing their pintle mounted, Browning M3M .50-calibre machine guns into the gunmen that were blocking our escape.

All that was missing was Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries at full volume!

A Hellfire missile was launched from one of the Seahawks; it rocketed off its launch rail and dived downwards towards a truck that was moving towards our position. The truck exploded seconds later. Two more missiles were launched by the other Seahawk and there was a much larger explosion as the mega-yacht, moored at the pier, bulged in the middle and then exploded.

..._...

"Fusion, Atlantic Storm..."

It was Neptune.

"... Make for the pier, we're coming to get you!"

"Fusion copies – give us twenty minutes and say thanks for the gunships!" I replied.

It was not over, but we now had a chance. More men were heading down from the residence where they had been deposited by the earlier helicopter. Our rear was unprotected. In the expanding light of dawn, I could make out a blue helicopter flying a short distance away – there was a man in the main cabin and he was aiming a machine gun directly at us, but before I could do anything the helicopter exploded as a stream of .50-calibre rounds from one of the Wildcat helicopters shredded the fuselage.

..._...

Then the comms came to life again as Hal called in.

"Fusion, Atlantic Storm – bringing callsign Four Two Charlie onto your frequency..."

Huh?

"Break, break. Fusion this is Four Two Charlie – we have your backs. Go for the pier. Out!"

The voice had been British and the callsign was of a format used by the Royal Marines Commando. We were not alone on the island... Seconds later, we all heard medium machine-gun fire, about sixty yards distant and we could see tracer rounds from two different firing positions reaching out for the approaching gunmen.

I needed no further encouragement and we ran. Kick-Ass, his Minimi exhausted of rounds, seized hold of our daughter and scooped her up into his arms.

Wildcat and I were on the left flank when we heard movement in the trees.

That was when I fucked up – I was very tired and I missed the roots at my feet and as a result I sprawled to the ground losing the grip on my MP7. Wildcat made to help me up, but then a gunman appeared in ambush and he brought his rifle up...

Before either Wildcat or I could react – a fucking bush rose up and casually snapped the gunman's neck! The 'bush', winked at me and then vanished back into the undergrowth. Fuck me! That must have been a bloody Royal Marines Commando – between him and the gunman, I was going to need some clean knickers...

Atlantic Storm

Time: 04:31

I edged closer towards the island.

Dark smoke blocked out the approaching dawn. The almost two-hundred-foot mega-yacht was belching smoke as she lay on her port side, leaning away from the far side of the dock. Men were evident on the dock and around it – that would never do.

I had ferreted amongst Dave and Mindy's weaponry and selected a suitable solution.

"Go Rambo!" Hal quipped as I stepped out of the bridge, a FN40GL-S 40-millimetre grenade launcher in my hand.

I laughed and began to fire and reload the single-shot weapon, sending high-explosive rounds into the water around the dock. The men ran, some sending bullets in my direction. Several of the men fell as Splinter and Trojan engaged them at the end of the dock.

Once the dock was clear, I ran back into the Bridge and guided us alongside the end of the dock. I ran to the bow and with Danny's assistance I got a pair of lines onto the dock. I had one final task – I sent a dozen smoke grenades onto the beach to shield us from the shore.

..._...

As we lay alongside the end of the pier, we were a sitting duck.

From the starboard bridge wing of the Atlantic Storm, I scanned the smoke-strewn beach and the trees through the binoculars. It was like a scene from some old war movie. I could make out burning debris and dead bodies. Splinter and Trojan were midway down the pier ensuring that nobody could make a rush attack on the Atlantic Storm. Across the pier the burning remains of the mega-yacht settled into the water.

I could hear the chatter of machine-gun fire, not too far away. The helicopters had been a godsend otherwise there would have been no way for me to bring the yacht into the dock.

Time: 04:44

Finally, I saw movement.

It was my daughter, or rather Shadow with her P90 to her shoulder, clearing the way ahead of the main assault force and on either side of her I saw Wildcat and Psyche. Less than a minute later came the lioness herself, Hit Girl, emerging triumphantly from the smoke and the trees, her head held high and in her arms, her cub.

I breathed an audible sigh of relief as behind her came the lion, in the form of Kick-Ass, guarding both his lioness and his cub. Beside him was Jackal – everybody was safe. Thank God!

My wife ran down the pier, urging everybody to move and helping them up the boarding ladder I had hung over the bow. Kick-Ass turned halfway down the pier and once everybody was past him, he raised the FN40GL-S 40-millimetre grenade launcher and sent a pair of rounds into the boathouse at the shore end of the pier. He turned back towards the yacht as the boathouse came apart in response to the pair of explosions within it.

Kick-Ass was grinning as he boarded the yacht. As soon as all were aboard, I advanced the throttles and we gently backed out away from the dock before turning and heading out to sea at twenty-two knots.

Time: 05:00

I was not letting my daughter out of my sight!

Once we were aboard, Dave carried her down below while I followed barely a foot behind. Cathy already had a bath running, so as soon as Anne-Marie set foot in our stateroom, she was stripped and dropped unceremoniously into the hot water. Cathy would check her over as soon as she was clean.

I stripped out of my clothes and body armour, and while my daughter relaxed in the tub, I took the opportunity to take a shower – I could still see Anne-Marie through the steamed up glass partition, so I was content. Dave was keeping us both in sight at all times as he pulled off his own body armour before helping our daughter wash her hair.

As she was swung into the bath I had seen the dark bruises all over her body, not to mention several cuts. I was incensed that anybody could do that to a young child. I felt absolutely nothing for those that had died – they had brought it upon themselves...

..._...

Once I had finished my shower and examined my own bruises and cuts, I wrapped a towel around my body and sat on the edge of the tub. Anne-Marie put her head against my thigh and I gently stroked her wet hair.

"Thank you, Mom..."

"I would never leave you, either of you. I love you both very much. I am so very sorry that you were taken and that you had to experience something so horrific..." I took a deep breath. "You also learnt a secret, today. Something which I wanted to keep from you and your brother until you were both old enough to properly understand what we do..."

My daughter looked up at me.

"Mom... I have only the utmost respect for what you all do. I've known that you and Dad have been up to something, but I never thought for a minute..."

"I was worried that you would hate me for what I do..."

Anne-Marie took my hand and she squeezed it.

"Never... If you were not a vigilante, then me and my brother would be dead in Gotham, instead of being cared for. I know I let you down and sometimes I don't acknowledge what you do for us, but after this... I know that you and Dad love us and would do anything for us..."

I lifted my daughter out of the bath and wrapped a soft towel around her. I sat her on my lap and hugged her, letting the tears fall along with those of my daughter. Dave came and wrapped his own strong and reassuring arms around us both.

After several minutes, Anne-Marie went quiet and then she spoke.

"So I assume that everybody onboard is a vigilante?"

I grinned – Anne-Marie had an insatiable need for knowledge.

"Except for Ryan, yes," I replied.

After Anne-Marie had been checked over thoroughly by Cathy and dressed, she was mobbed in the Main Salon by everybody wanting to check on her.

As she sat on the couch, she went from person to person, pointing with her finger.

"Shadow, Jackal, Wildcat, Trojan, err..." She stopped at Tommy.

"Splinter..." Tommy said.

"Hal..." Abby added.

"Medic..." Cathy chimed in.

"Psyche..." Stephanie said with a grin.

"Ryan is Neptune and you, young lady, you are 'Rogue' while your brat of a brother, is 'Ravage'," I added.

"Rogue... I like that..."

"I think Ravage is kinda cool!" Danny added as he sat next to his sister, overjoyed at having her back.

Joshua was not happy.

He was on his bed face down, holding on tightly to my hand. Mom was busy swabbing his damaged shoulder and injecting some local anaesthetic before she got to work with some tweezers. The skin was black and blue from the abuse it had received and Josh was in obvious pain. Beside me sat Steph, a clean white bandage on her right thigh.

She had insisted on staying after Mom had dressed her wound so that she could help Josh. I had no problem with that, so we both held his hands as he grimaced with the pain until the area began to go numb.

Mom then set to work removing the jagged pieces of plastic and metal that had dug into the flesh. After ten minutes of careful work, Josh's shoulder was tidied up and a large dressing was applied.