Second Chance SEAL(53)

In the back left wheel well, I found it. Small and black with a red light at the top. It was a fucking tracking device.

I dropped it on the ground and crushed it.

“Fuck,” I growled, anger surging through me.

The mafia must have bugged Randy’s truck when they first ran into him. That stupid bastard didn’t realize it, and I didn’t think to fucking check. They didn’t get us the night we slept in the truck in the field because they were too far away and couldn’t get there in time. But the truck led them right to the cabin and everywhere else since.

Those bastards were probably waiting for their moment to strike the whole time. I was so fucking stupid not to see this from a mile away. They were finding us way too easily like it was no big thing. As soon as I got into the truck, I realized that there must be some kind of tracking equipment. Maron would never betray us, and that was the only other option.

General Maron. I had to go check on him and tell him what had happened. I pulled out, driving fast toward his house in town. I remembered where it was and I hoped he hadn’t moved since I was last there, though I doubted he had.

For a second, I wondered if I should have killed that mobster back there, but it didn’t matter. He was likely dead either way. The mob wouldn’t take him back, not after he fucked up this bad. Plus, those kicks to the face might have finished him off.

I drove fast, getting away from the burning cabin. Maron’s place was probably twenty minutes by car, clear on the other side of town in a nice little suburb.

As I got further away from the cabin, I suddenly heard sirens in the distance. I kept my cool and clenched my jaw as cop cars raced past me, heading in the direction of the burning cabin. I guessed some neighbors heard the gun battle and called them in. I was pretty fucking lucky that I wasn’t going to be there when they showed up.

I was tired and in pain, but that had never slowed be down before. I guessed that the wound on my arm opened back up, and I had a few other cuts that might need some attention. All told though, I was in pretty fucking good shape for a guy that was left for dead in a burning building.

That bastard got lucky. I assumed it was Tony, the guy that started all of this, but I couldn’t be sure. I never got a good look at him.. Still, it had to be him. The bastard snuck up on me and coldcocked me from behind because he knew that he’d never get a real shot at me. I know I definitely shot him as I went down, and that was probably what saved my life. I probably hurt him enough to scare him off.

But of course the twisted cunt set the cabin on fire. He had to burn down any traces of what happened, not to mention finish me off.

He didn’t gamble for a man like me, though. He couldn’t have known that I’d be up and ready to get out of that building. He couldn’t have guessed that I’d interrogate his piece of shit friend.

I was worked up into a rage as I pulled into Maron’s driveway, tires screeching on the pavement. His place looked quiet, and I prayed that he was home as I ran up the walk and pounded on the door.

There was no answer from inside. I pounded again, and still nothing. I grabbed the knob and turned, and the door opened easily.

Instantly, I got a bad feeling. I stepped into the house and heard a radio playing in a back room.

“Hello?” I called out. “General Maron?”

There was no response.

I stepped into the living room. It was how I remembered, clean and modern with nice furniture and pictures on the walls. I spotted a photograph of his little girl dressed up as a ballerina and smiling huge.

I turned the corner into the kitchen and stopped in my tracks.

General Maron was sitting in a chair at the table with a bullet in his head.

Blood was everywhere. I couldn’t tell what had happened, but it was clearly bad. Maron’s wife was lying on the floor near the stove, her body bent back, her mouth hanging open.

“Fuck,” I said softly, staring in at the scene.

There was a gun on the table, and I recognized it as Maron’s own personal weapon. It looked like he tried to defend himself, but he was too slow. Whoever came here finished him without thinking or mercy. I hovered in the doorway, anger rolling through my body.

Tony did this. I didn’t know how he did or why, but he killed them both. The bastard murdered my mentor and his innocent wife all because he wanted to get Piper back. That sick fucking psycho was going to pay. I smashed my fist against the doorframe. I was going to tear him apart limb from limb until he’s lying on the floor in front of me bleeding to death, begging for mercy. He won’t get any.

Just then, I heard a noise from the back room. I hesitated for half a second then went to the table. I grabbed Maron’s gun, checked the clip, and went toward the noise.