THE HIT BACK SERIES (Order From Chaos)

Chapter Three

Chapter three

“Vengeance is a monster of appetite, forever bloodthirsty and never filled.” — Richelle e. Goodrich.

[Some couple months back]
Birds with smaller land beasts hurried into their holes and nest at the lumbering sound of the approaching feet. Twigs snapped, and insects got crushed under his feet as he scatted across the tree-canopied tract.
In conformation with energy, he knew he shouldn’t be running any longer as he had run out of strength. But pressing him on against energy’s law was the impulse to live to see the end of this. Given the harsh winter weather, he knew he should be freezing to death, working his way through the parcel at the dead of winter. Belieing the cold clime, he had his clothes soaked through with his own sweat.
Even worse, he knew he should be laying down to suppress the stitch at his side. But since good reasoning and laws existed only in reality, not in this nightmare he was caught up in, he veered to his right on sighting one of the many arrowhead signs that had been his clue, ever since the very start of this odd adventure.
Today, he’d learned was a paradox of good and bad. Good, because it had kick-started like every other wintery day in his log-cabin at the neck of the woods. To start with; he’d left before the break of dawn for his aerobics—a two-mile run from his dwelling. Bad, because what was meant to end in less than an hour was stretching out to be the worst two hours of his life. And now it was getting worse than ever, because he had covered four miles, thereby, reaching well beyond the cap range of his ankle bracelet, which must have sent a radio frequency signal to the receivers of those who had him tagged.
The fear of having fifty AK47-armed men dogging him was in no way perturbing him, as he cut across the wooded piece of land, like he would, when the law was actually here.
His worst fear, was, of course, that of his cute, innocent, little girl, who was caught up in this with him.
He had met the absence of his sleeping girl at the cabin upon returning from his aerobic. And had later found the clue left behind by whoever had her nobbled on the worktable in the kitchen.
The writings on the snow-white paper had read: “Wanna see your little girl again? Head due North.” The words had been crisp and short, but it looped over and over in his head as he dashed wobbly through a clearing.
Something was certain to him though. Whoever had done this, sure like playing games; One which, he would make them regret ever playing at the expense of his daughter. Very soon.
Hitting really low on his energy level, he rammed each wobbled legs ahead of him, making gruntingly down a steep path; His keen eyesight registering everything within its line of focus. But, not the slung mass of ball, that swung from between the towering trees like a wrecking ball, and blindsided him with the sheer force of a running car.
The deadweight impact sent him reeling through the path, before his legs gave out from under him, and he avalanched down the steep, crumpling to a halt at the foot of a trunk.
The vicine whirled around him through his muddled vision, and for a sec, he thought he caught the glimpse of a figure from behind a rimose-barked tree before his eyes were shut against the trickle of sunlight filtering into the clearing.  
Soon enough, a figure emerged from amongst the trees with lilting grace. Standing inches shy of a six; and lissome as the felid she cradled in her gloved hands. Her build was awing as much as her snowflaked, flowing midnight-dark hair, and tear-dropped eyes of same dark accent.
She ignored the purr coming from the slip creature as she stroked its back, angling her way to the side of the dormant body.
She plunged into a squat at his side, dexterously tampering with the tether fastened to his ankle. Once done, she fettered the cotton-white cat to the trunk, securing the tether around its delicate neck.
“Sorry, little one. He’s got some work to do.” She said with a smirk stretching across the length of her face.
Just in time, a Helicopter burst into view from above, the downdraft and rending whirr of his main rotor blades shook the trees to their roots, and whisked fallen leaves across the clearing’s floor. On instant, two ropes dropped to the ground from the Chopper.
“Right on the nose, Prat!” She gave a great hullo, which was drowned out by the chopper’s splitting sound.
With her hair whipping across her face under the fierce gust of the Chopper’s rotor blades, she strapped the body to a rope and clung to the other with precise mastery, at the ready for a ride away with the Chopper.
At once, the Chopper mount the air with a lurch, buzzing along as it whisked them out of sight. 
{PRESENT DAY}
The ground pulsed from underneath the TELs [Transporter erector Launcher], Humvees, FMTVs [Family of Medium Tactical Vehicles], and other armored combat vehicles, as the Task Force 76 of the United States Seventh Fleet, swept across the South Korean half of the Korean DMZ. Also marching along in columns were amphibious assault teams, all assumed in full combat gears.
Sixty yards from across the scene, grasses threshed wildly under the assault of choppers’ rotor blades, as scores of soldiers roped down to the ground. Also, several fighter jets of the F-series and Lockheed’s fighter jets, with the Air Force B-52 and B-1B bombers, scrambled from the USS aircraft carrier Ronald Reagan off the Busan port of the South, buzzing about as clusters of hornets were grounded to a halt, as well as many a paratrooper, whom landed feet-first after their venturous flight in the air.
After several years of being headquartered at the US Fleet Activities Yokosuka, in Kanagawa Prefecture, Japan. The US Seventh Fleet along with the US forces laying still at the South end of the DMZ had been given heads-up. The order earlier from the Pentagon had been a turning point, to propel them into marching closer to the MDL [Military Demarcation line].
The message sent from the Pentagon via secured airwaves was simple with much weight to it. They’re to stay within five-mile radius of the MDL, and wait to engage at the President’s call. And as there was no order from the White House as yet, and since it’s apparent they had to wait till the green light was given as combat-ready as they seemed, they deemed it their rights to flex some muscles and loose some kinks.
*****
President Kim Jong-Ju sat enraptured in the war room, listening to the war analysis given by General Lee-Puk of the KPA [Korean People’s Army]. Unlike every other day, he was assumed in his bejeweled, full army dress, as an evident reminder of the time they were in.
Despite himself, he couldn’t help but feel some remorse for what was happening, that he felt his inactions and blatant disregard for the General’s counsel had been the watershed to all these. And right now things were about to get really sticky.
But since there’s no need crying over spilled milk, he braced himself, ready to tackle it head-on. The satellite image photographed at the MDL had shown heavy military presence, meaning Uncle Sam and her NATO allies were out on an all-out war this time, with men from her Task Force 76, NATO’s ISAF [International Security Assisted Force], and Seventh Fleet, whom had stayed inactive in Japanese waters for donkey years, marauding across the South Korea’s end of the MDL.
The North had reacted in swift response, rallying up everymen within the KPA, and arming every one of their Nuclear Arsenals and defense systems. The time for diplomacy was well in the past. The United States had wanted war, and war they will get.    
“What do you say we do, Mr. President?” The Air force Marshall, General Pak Jung Eun asked coolly.
“We wait and let them draw first blood.” This he said, though the berserker of his soul had wanted otherwise. He didn’t want to make the same mistake twice. If for anything, in the interest of ‘public opinion’, because he knew deep in the deepest alcoves of his heart he’ll be needing that very soon and the friendlies’ aid to come aft.