Traitors (Damned of the 2/19th - Book Five) - Finished

Darkness Falls

2/19th Special Weapons Group Barracks
Restricted Area - Western Germany
Early Winter - 1986
Day: Fifteen

The LT came up from behind the desk, unfolding from the chair, his hand reaching for the pistol. Jefferson was trying to bring his weapon into play, his eyes widening as I came him with steel in my hand, the sneer that had been forming on his face vanishing as he realized I wasn't playing around, this wasn't a game, this wasn't training, that someone was coming at him that rumor control whispered had killed more than once with that knife.

Two steps and I knocked the rifle away as it went off into the floor, my hand coming up and wrapping around Jefferson's throat, squeezing tight as I kneed him in the balls. His rifle fell to the ground and I shoved him hard against the window, the glass shattered as he bent backwards into the window frame and out into the snow. I let go and spun, still moving.

I turned, seeing the LT aiming his pistol at Tee, Tee ducking slightly and moving to the right. Bomber's rifle was caught in mid-swing, Clifton flying away with blood spraying away from his face. I grabbed the LT by the back of the neck and put my hips into it, pivoting at the waist.

The LT's face smashed into the desk, the pistol flying from his hand as he tried to stop himself by getting his hands onto the desk. Before he could do anything else, I let go of the back of his neck and drove my fist into the base of his skull, just as he was pushing his face off the desk, smashing him face first into the desk again.

Everything snapped back to normal speed, Clifton sprawling across the chair, Bomber driving the butt of the rifle into the side of Clifton's face. Jefferson was screaming that I'd stabbed him, and Sergeant Tee was crouched with the pistol in both hands, pointed at either the LT or me.

"Step away from him, Stillwater." Tee told me. I realized I was smiling, and when I looked at him he flinched a little. Everything in me screamed at me to drive the knife into the base of the LT's skull and finish it once an for all.

I looked at the LT again, feeling the urge to kill him. A dead enemy was no threat, a living one could return at any time. The LT groaned, only half conscious.

"Ant..." Bomber's voice.

Shaking, I moved away, sheathing the knife, and standing next to Tee, who had his pistol pointing at the floor.

"Goddamn it, Stillwater fucking stabbed me!" Jefferson was shrieking. Bomber moved away from Clifton, who was sagging over one arm of the chair, unconscious, blood drooling from her mouth onto the floor. Jefferson was still screaming when Bomber grabbed him and slung him out of the broken window, snow and broken glass falling in afterward to spill onto the tile.

"The glass cut you, you fucking moron." Bomber told him, kicking the rifle away. "Get the hell up, go into the orderly room and have Nagle check you out."

Sergeant Tee picked up the LT's pistol from where it had landed on the floor, dropping it into his thigh pocket. The LT wasn't moving much, and Tee peeled back his eyelid to check him. The LT's nose was squashed and he was pushing blood bubbles past his lips when he breathed. I took sick satisfaction in the damage I'd done to his face, remembering how he'd took joy in my face being worked over. The difference was: he cared about his looks, my face was just to keep the front of my skull warm.

"Goddamn, Stillwater, you almost fucking killed him." Tee told me as I came back around to stand next to him. Bomber dragging Jefferson away was peripheral in my awareness, I was still focused on the LT, still feeling the urge to throw myself at him and start stabbing, or to throw him on the floor and take my fists to him.

I hated the son of a bitch. He's stood over me, gloating, asking questions, while his little minions had worked over my face. He'd laughed when I'd spit pieces of my front teeth and blood onto my chest. Smiled when Oakes had pulled tight on the belt that had been wrapped around my throat until I almost passed out from the lack of oxygen. He'd thought that beating on me and my two best friends had been funny, and I wanted to return every twinge of pain tenfold.