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Valentine
Fiction
 Created on 6-17-07
 Views(31)
 Story Rating G
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VALENTINE
Wednesday, 14 February 2007 1530 hours - Valentines Day. It was the last hour of his last shift of the week. Normally Johnny G. would be working until Friday. However, this week he requested 5 days off to fly to Washington. D.C. in order to spend 5 whole days with his fiancé, Jessica. Johnny hadn't spent anytime with her since she departed for an internship nearly six months ago, and now it the time had finally come. In less than five hours he would be on a flight from SEATAC International Airport enroute to Reagan National Airport.
He was excited. Why wouldn't he be, he kept dreaming of her warm embrace and the taste of her sweet lips. It was enough to make any man insane. Every thought he had of her sent him straight into dream world. But he had to focus on the job at hand, so he couldn't let his mind wander... too much.
Johnny was a security guard for a local TV news station. The building itself was 40 stories tall and the sides had enlarged photos of the news anchors, along with the number 4. "Channel 4 News, the latest news weather and sports for the great northwest" were printed in bold, gold letters on the northern most side of the building. However, as aesthetically pleasing as its outer perimeter was, the inside of the building was much more majestic.
The front lobby doors were complete frosted security glass that led to a large open area which housed various models of Seattle’s greatest accomplishments. There were posters of Jimmy Hendrix and Kurt Cobain that cluttered the walls. A larger than life statue of Ichiro Suzuki stood in the center of the lobby and was the main focus.
Johnny G gazed at the statue and chuckled to himself, for he was not a Mariners fan, and walked behind the enormous desk that encased his computer and supplies. He sat down in a leather chair and brought himself up to the computer screen, typed a few words and the screen went from a black depressing state to a lively bright setting.
Johnny began writing his final log update when the TV in the corner of his room caught his eye. In bright red letters the bottom of the screen screamed "BREAKING NEWS!" Johnny grabbed his remote and turned the volume up, as he did so a few news anchors and a mob of sound crew rushed passed. *Ah, those guys, always itching for a story,* Johnny thought to himself as he turned his attention back to the television.
"This is Mark Briscol, reporting live from Washington, d.c. It appears that an act of terrorism once again hits our beloved country side. This time, our nation's capitol was the main target. At approximately 3:15 pm, a group of unknown masked men sieged 5 building in a 10 mile radius. These men, proceeded to scare and harm various government officials and their staff. However, after only ten minutes of the siege the groups exited the buildings, entered 5 dark vans and drove off in five different directions. According to witnesses, once the vans were certain distance away from the buildings, a bomb was detonated. Fire and police officials are now on the scene attempting to extinguish..."
Johnny dropped the remote he was holding and quickly reached for his cell phone. If he was not mistaken, one of the buildings that had been attacked was Jessica's. He quickly searched his contacts page found her name and pressed talk. He held the phone up to his ear, while keeping a steady eye on the footage that was being relayed throughout the country. The phone continued to ring as scenes of the horrendous attack were shown. After five minutes of ringing, a male voice answered.
"Is this Jake Baxter," the voice had a thick middle eastern accent, "I say again, is this Jake Baxter?" The man was beginning to get impatient, Johnny began to understand what was happening. He hadn't heard the name "Jake Baxter" in a very long time, and he never thought he would hear it again. "Are you listening fool, you either answer me now or I cut the girl again." A scream echoed in the background followed by a few slaps and grunts of other men.
"Yes, I am Jake Baxter and I swear on all that is holy, if you harm her in anyway… I will make your death a slow one. Now what do you want from me?" Johnny gave in, the last thing he ever wanted was his past being brought up, especially in this manner. "Listen pal, I don't know who you are or who you work for, but if you know my alias then there is not much I can do. So tell me, what is it that you want, and I will comply... as long as you don't harm the girl."
The voice spoke without missing a beat, "You will drive to the airport and in five hours you will be met by two men and they will accompany you on a flight to New York City. This is all I will tell you now, goodbye Mr. Baxter. Your woman is safe for now... do not try to play games with me, or she won't be." With that the phone went silent and Johnny closed the flip cover and collapsed into the chair.
*How could they have found out about me? Who are they? Can I trust them? Is Jessica safe? I need answers.* These thoughts were racing through Johnny's mind as he instinctively reached for another cell phone that was located in jacket pocket. The phone was a sleek black flip phone with no identifying markers on it. He flipped it open and did something he never thought he would do again... He dialed Kale'b Yahalom, a former Israeli Intelligence operative that worked with Johnny years ago.
The phone rang only twice and a gruff voice answered, "Ah, Jake, my friend, why do call so? What happened? Have we been activated? It's been years. Why would they activate us now? Have you seen the news? That wouldn’t be enough to get us back into the fight… would it?" Johnny just shook his head, his old friend was always eccentric and ready for a fight, no matter what it was. As long as it was in the interest of Israel or for a friend, he would do anything. "Come now, Jake why so silent? Cat's got your tongue, ha?"
Johnny filled in his old friend about the recent events and asked him to do some research on the voice he had recorded from his previous conversation. Kale'b immediately understood and before he hung up asked the most important question he could ever ask, "Should I assemble the team, boss?" And as if he didn't need an answer he hung up and left Johnny all alone.
Johnny placed the phone in his pocket, got up from his chair and walked out to the parking lot. People were going crazy in Seattle tonight. Horns were blaring, people were shouting, and kids were throwing rocks at the homeless and any Arab they saw. Johnny walked to his car and opened the trunk. He reached in and pulled out .45 cal pistol in its holster and placed it on his belt. Johnny then went around to the drivers side opened the door, sat down and started the engine. He sat there for a few minutes looking in the mirror and began to cry. He let the tears flow for 30 seconds then dried his eyes and looked back into the mirror. "The tears are over. Now go get your girl back!"
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Thursday, 23 May 2002 0130 Hours Undisclosed Area, Iraq-
The lone CH-53 hovered through the dark, cloudy night over the desert terrain. The constant thud of the propellers could be heard from miles away, yet the locals paid no mind. They were used to military aircraft conducting operations at this time of night. It had been this way for years, ever since the first war their country had with the United States of America.
Inside the helicopter were 5 figures dressed in desert fatigues, armed with M-4 Carbines and .45 cal pistols. They each wore the same uniform, yet were completely different. Three of the figures sat in the rear of the fuselage and argued about the upcoming baseball season. To an untrained observer, one would think they were just a bunch of kids on their way to a training mission. However, though they were kids, they knew they weren't heading for training.
"Breen, you ass! How can you say that the Giants are going to even make the NLC Series? Are you utterly insane?" The member that spoke was Matthew Tigen. He was 19 years old, already drank like fish and was a heavy smoker. Tigen hailed from New Jersey, and even though he was the youngest of the crew, he was the foremost weapons expert the Corps had ever had. He raised a cigarette to his lips and lit it with an MRE match. "I mean seriously bro, you guys may have Barry Bonds but who else do you really have? Fucking lame ducks if you ask me."
The other figure, Joe Breen, looked up at Tigen and shook his head. He wasn't one for smoking and definitely did not agree with Tigen's lifestyle... or baseball views. "Yeah, well no one asked you. If I wanted your opinion on the Giants, I would’ve asked Coors over here. At least he would’ve made freakin' sense." The other man turned his head in the direction of the two at the mention of his name and grinned. Breen shook his head and continued on, "Besides of which, what the hell are you doing smoking in here? You know that the Sergeant don't like that much." Breen never let any kind of negative substance in his body. At 24 years old, he had seen many friends and family members either die or seriously injured from those substances.
Samuel Coors grinned again and grunted. He never really spoke much, except when he had too. He had learned from an early age that if anyone wanted his opinion they would ask, until then he would keep his mouth shut. Coors, however, had other things on his mind. The mission they were currently facing kept egging at him. Something was terribly wrong, they had done these kinds of things before, but this time was different and he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
Sergeant Jake Baxter sat towards the front of the helicopter with Kierra Stolinikov; the two grasped each others hands. Baxter watched his men as they bickered and smiled. He loved these guys, if it wasn't for the Marine Corps, they probably would never have met. However, considering the fact that at this point in time they were no longer under the command of the Corps, it didn't really matter. The mission bothered him as well. They were to infiltrate a heavily guarded building, find and extract a "VIP", and then hike 25 miles in the desert to the extraction point.
It’s not like he and his team had never done this before, it’s just that the name of the "VIP" had been left out of the briefing. When he asked who the "VIP" was the only answer he got was not to ask. They never pulled this shit on him before, but all he knew was that he was going to complete this mission and get his team home safely. He turned to Kierra and grasped her hand even harder, "Look, this feels weird. I can't explain it, but just don't go beyond the mission parameters ok?"
Kierra, 22 years old, looked at her leader (and boyfriend) and stared deeply into his eyes. What she saw worried her, she had only seen this look in his eyes once before and that was while he was lying in a hospital bed after they pulled chunks of metal out of his left knee. "Baby, don't talk like that, if the guys hear you, they will lose the initiative. That's one thing none of us can lose. Everything is going to be alright. I just kn...." At that a voice came through on the headset Jake was wearing.
"Hey bossman, we have arrived at your final destination. Thank you for flying U.S. Naval Airways. Good luck out there and don't forget... Jesus loves you!"
Without missing a beat, Jake stood up and signaled for his team to gear up. Tigen stood up and pressed the release lever for the rear door of the helicopter. The door made an intense creaking sound as it opened and the dry desert air filled the entire aircraft. One by one his team jumped and disappeared into the night until he was all that was left. Jake took one last look around, kissed his cross and followed his team.
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