Stars And Stripes

Chapter 5: Unlikely Alliances

Jenkins frantically glanced for side to side, sizing up the mysterious group that had shown up. He shifted his aim from person to person, not sure which one to focus on.

"Stay frosty," whispered Varson, keeping his gun trained on the man who had shouted at them, determining that he was the leader.

Daniel looked the other group over. They were all men, varying in ages from teens to the middle aged. All of them wore tactical vests, but were otherwise clothed in civilian wear. "Who are you?" he yelled.

The leader of the group smirked, taking a few steps from the safety of their SUVs. He lowered his weapon, spreading his arms out to show that he meant no harm, for the time being. "We just wanna have a friendly talk."

"Just shoot the fuckin guy, Varson," stammered Jenkins, nervousness showing in his eyes.

Varson's gazed remained steady. "And then what? Get ripped to shreads by his pals?"

Daniel lowered his rifle and took a few cautious steps forward, towards the man. His heart was beating fast, adrenaline forcing its way into his system. "Then let's talk."

The leader's smile grew even wider, seeming to take up all the available space on his face. "Good! But first, have your men lower their guns."

Daniel turned to face his companions, giving them a slight nod. Varson complied quickly, but Jenkins hesitated. He kept his M16 shouldered, then slowly released his grasp, allowing it to hang but its strap around his shoulders.

The other men came out from behind the SUVs, approaching slowly and with their guns at the ready. They stopped just behind their leader, forming a line of roughly ten or so men. Jenkins and Varson mimicked them, taking flanking positions around Daniel.

Daniel's hands hung loosely at his sides, hands twitching slightly. "Who are you?"

"I don't think you're in the position to do the questioning, soldier boy." The leader still had a huge grin, his body loose and relaxed as though he'd been in this situation hundreds of times.

Faster than Daniel could process, the man had a gun pointed directly at Daniel's face. Varson and Jenkins reacted, charging the strangers closest to them. Their retaliations were futile, and they were easily subdued by the others. Black cloth bags were thrown over the twos' heads, and a rather large, brutish man smached each of them with the butt of his gun, knocking them out.

"Your turn." Was the last thing Daniel heard before a sharp pain erupted in the back of his skull, and everything went dark...

~~~

Varson slowly opened his eyes, light filtering quickly and blinding him. He tried to cover them with his hands, but found them restrained behind his back. After letting his eyes adjust, he looked around. He was in a dark room made from concrete, no bigger than a school classroom. A single light dangle from a loose cord above him, the light not reaching the edges of the room. Varson himself was secured to an old wooden chair, his hands and ankles tied to it with thick rope. His head pounded, the spot where he had been struck oozed pain.

"Hello?" he weakly called out. "Anyone there?"

Cold silence greeted him, and he was pleased with that. He began testing his restraints, glad that there weren't any guards to stop him. The wooden back of the chair was flexible and creaked with age. The rods that he was tied to gave way, snapping. Just then, a noise echoed from a dark section of the room, directly ahead of Varson. He stopped his movements, a sharp portion of the wooden rod in his hands. He remained seated, his legs still bound, his hands behind his back as to not indicate he was free.