Gone, Part V 9-28-2017

Pulling off his head-gear, he tossed it onto the table, swearing under his breath. Sure, the mission finished no hitch, but that didn’t mean their problems were solved. It was time for fucking change, and he knew just what needed to change.

“She’s gone,” a voice said from behind.

He turned. “Fuck! Where?” There was anger underneath his words, the sharp edge of knives against men’s souls.

“We don’t know yet, Sir.”

“Find the bitch and get rid of the fucking bait.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Maybe going rogue had been the wrong move, but no, he’d gotten tired of pissing around the military’s mountain of red tape. If they were there to keep peace, to take down the insurgents, then they damn well ought to do it.  Do it right and be done.

Worry about civilians and bruised feelings later.

Actually, who the fuck cared.  Crush the rebellions and be done. Go home.

But it hadn’t worked that way. There had been so many rules, too many to allow them the freedom to do what needed to be done.

So, he’d deserted, recruited like-mind rebels, and set out to quell the problem the way it should be quelled. His two rules? Cut the fucker’s legs out from under them by stealing their money and then shoot the fuckers dead. Who’d be whining then? Motherfuckers.

Moving into the command headquarters, he asked, “Can you track her phone?”

“We did,” his lieutenant replied. “Chased it down to a trash bin. She must have gotten a burner.”


“You can’t say she didn’t learn from the best,” the lieutenant replied, no smile, knowing the longer she remained free, the more danger she posed to their objectives, but also a little bit proud.

“Find that fucking bitch,” he ordered – thought they were already doing that – and walked out, anger wearing him like a coat.

She’d be back soon. The bait would be cut. They’d lay low for a time, then pick up right where they’d left off. Side affects of taking down the assholes of the world; they were fucking rich!

Fuck Military and Government assholes. They’d be thanking him one of these days.

Stalking out of their base of operations, he headed out to join his men down the street. Day over. Job done. Fucking millions richer.

And the best part of the day….

Fucking Michalob time.



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