Grab and Go

Part 3

It was nearing noon when Mitchell, Dave, James and Maria arrived at the airstrip. It was in the complete middle of nowhere, with nothing but empty fields and the occasional copse of trees that dotted the roadways. Dave was cautious as he approached a hanger made of flimsy metal and tin. A barely visible entrance sat discretely alongside the hanger, just wide enough for the SUV to fit through. Before Dave had a chance to drive through, Mitchell stuck his hand out, prompting Dave to force the vehicle to a stop.

"You sure this is it Ghost?" Mitchell asked into his earpiece.

"Positive. Pilot's name is Jorge, so pronounce it like you would if you were Spanish, ok you Nationalist fuck?" Ghost had a tendency to pick on Mitchell's conservative side.

"Copy that you libtard shithead." A slight grin crossed his face, something that grew rarer the more Mitchell found himself working for Tropical. He then glanced back at James and Maria.

"Jamesy boy, you wanna come scope this place out with me?" he asked.

"Of course I would!" he delightedly replied and hopped out of his car seat onto the sand and gravel beneath his dress shoes. Mitchell then turned to Dave and nodded back at their hostage to signal to him to keep an eye on her. After he grabbed his rifle and duffel bag, he opened the door to Maria's side and tried to convince her to come out by herself, but she wouldn't even move a muscle or say a word, so he used his free hand to grab hers and force her out. She began to scream and yell for help, but Mitchell's powerful grasp was able to shove her in the shotgun seat.

"Please, please don't hurt me, I just wanna go home, please!" she begged, but Mitchell simply shut the door and looked inside at Dave with an uneasy stare. Dave, tired of Maria's whining, reached inside a compartment where he kept a massive .50 pistol and whirled it out. He cocked it back and stuck it right up against Maria's neck, using immense pressure as it dug into her skin. Instead of closing her mouth instantly, she now pleaded even more for mercy.

"You wanna keep crying!? Huh? Come on, one more tear comes out of them pretty eyes I'll make it even worse for you!" Dave taunted. Both his campanions began to see the fire in Dave's eyes turn from annoyance to pleasure as he began to enjoy scaring the girl. Mitchell shot him a disapproving look and motioned towards the gun as if to say 'is that really necessary?'. Dave seemed shocked as he stared back into Mitchell's warm green eyes. He never acted like this before, and always thought his leader held the same mentality. Back in high school, Dave and Mitchell were close friends, but it wasn't until the first days in Kenya that Mitchell saw the unforeseen hatred and spite Dave held against the world, and he took it out on anyone who was in his way, intentionally or just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Mitchell too despised the world but he turned that anger into a lust for power instead of a contempt for killing. It was why he couldn't bring himself to kill another person today, let alone a scared and innocent girl. Dave was reluctant to retract his pistol, but after another warning glance by his leader, he pulled it away and snarled at her.

"You're lucky this horny bastard's got a boner for you," he growled. Mitchell heard the remark and shook his head in disgust. As him and Jamesy neared the entrance, the hopeful young group member notified Mitchell of a largely open window just above them. They decided to push a large crate underneath it, then haul themselves up onto it. Mitchell went in first, peaking over the edge to quickly recon the area then pushed himself up and over. The fall was a bit rough, but he was quick to pick up his rifle and move to cover. The inside was a mess of items ranging from rusted and aging oil canisters and workbenches to miscellaneous that lie around, however he did spot a few snow white bricks sitting stacked on a nearby table. Dead center in the hanger was a small, agile and well built SR22; a civilian used plane that cost the company about $650,000. It was familiar in that it was the same plane used to bring Mitchell, Dave and James in and out of Palestine, Kenya and Indonesia. The previous pilot, Richard, had flown all three missions, but in the most recent one in Indonesia, he was shot through the gut by a drunken and angry bar customer, and had to be sent home for a few months.