30. Cobra Bubbles
Chapter 30
Cobra Bubbles
Taz
I don’t know what happened with the little secure Zoom call they had with the Situation room after Heath rudely knocked me out. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good for me.
When I came to, I blinked my eyes open to see the black boots of the head of the Prodigal Sons standing before me. He had his feet apart, his worn jeans slung loose over his legs, and his cut full of patches that worked like merit badges to these cretins.
His knuckles, emblazoned with the letters of his name: Cobra.
His unusual eyes – dark on the inside, light around the pupils – looked down at me in an inscrutable expression.
Heath stood beside him, smug, like a side kick.
I was less than impressed. Their too-wide stances harkened to a military life where everyone walked around greeting each other with “Airborne!” and “Lead the Way!”
Heath even had his ribbons sewn into his cut.
He’d gone full Hooah! What a tool.
My lip hurt. My right eye was swollen shut. My nose wheezed, broken and tender.
I was still seated on the same chair as before, but my feet and hands were no longer bound. I guess I wasn’t considered a threat anymore.
Hell, I didn’t blame them. I was as limp as an overcooked noodle. Too tired and hurt to do much other than raise my head.
I was pretty sure that Heath broke one of my ribs again, and I was exhausted.
I was so grateful that Griff came home. That he came to see me, that we’d had a couple nights to figure ourselves out. I’d be happy to die, knowing that he loved me and I loved him. If this was it, I knew someone would miss me.
That was a great comfort I had taken for granted.
“I’ll shoot her,” Heath said, his teeth yellowed under the fluorescent lights.
Heath stepped forward, pulling a gun from his hip holster, right as Cobra pushed out his hand to stop him.
“It don’t seem right that you get to kill your ex-wife,” Cobra said. “Wipe that smile off your face. What kind of man are you? Shit, you liked beating your own wife?”
Cobra actually looked appalled. I didn’t hate that about him.
“Let him kill me,” I said, trying to smile even as my lip cracked more. “Make sure they all know he did it. That way, they’ll make his death nice and slow.”
Kai could do it. He could get him into a black site, and torture him over days, weeks… months… If I didn’t get revenge now, then it would be okay. He’d do it for me.
“Who? Your Daddy or your boyfriend? The CIA’s son?” Heath smirked. “Nobody is coming for you, sweetheart. If they were, I’d be keeping you alive. Looks like they think you’re useless too.”
“It don’t seem right,” Cobra said, pushing Heath back, who looked at him with annoyance, but didn’t make a move to defy him. “She might be on the wrong side of this, but you’re still a warrior. She’s one of us. She served her time. She should go out with the same dignity we’d give any other soldier.”
Cobra stepped forward, pulling out his gun, slipping the magazine out, and checking the notch to see if it was full. Satisfied, he reloaded his Baretta, and shook his head.
I stared with fascination as he handled the weapon. The way his thumb seemed to caress it like it was an extension of him.
I stared at Cobra, and a flutter of hope tickled at my chest.
Maybe he wouldn’t do it. Maybe… maybe…
“I didn’t want it to go this way,” Cobra said, as he charged his pistol.
He took the weapon off safe and pointed the barrel at my forehead, killing that fluttering hope dead in its tracks.
I had always thought I was hard to kill, but maybe not. A bullet was a bullet. No amount of strength or will power would armor your skull against it.
“I really like you,” Cobra said, solemnly. “You’re brave, and smart. You make me proud.”
There was something about his last sentence… why would I make him proud?
“Just shoot me, already.” I wanted to sound angry and bitter. But I wasn’t. I was just ready to go. Ready to face the darkness. “This conversation is boring.”
Nothing prepares you for the immensely terrible act of writing your own Last Will and Testament at the age of eighteen. I faced my own mortality before my first deployment, then disregarded that same delicate existence each time I went in, guns blazing into combat.
I had been on borrowed time for years now.
I had thought about dying enough times that this was a quick mental trip from denial to acceptance.
“You’re wrong, you know,” Cobra said.
I waited, wondering what the hell we were talking about.
“Your Dad didn’t abandon you. In fact, he’s thought about you every day since the moment those two blue lines showed up.”
The… fuck…?
“Cobra! Shoot!” Heath was ready to take the pistol out of Cobra’s hand and end me himself. But I think we were too confused to really think about it.
Cobra took his large free hand, and pulled out a second pistol and took that one off safe too. With two barrels pointed at me, I almost laughed.
“If it’s worth killing,” I said, reciting the old Lucky 13 motto, “It’s worth overkilling, I guess.”
I tasted the blood from my cut lip, and almost smiled.
“Make sure you double tap,” I said, summoning the last of my bravado.
I’m sorry, Kai.
The words flashed through my mind as I shut my eyes.
I’m sorry we didn’t get more time.
Cobra let out a sigh, and I knew it was the end. Until he said, “Did I ever tell you my real name?”
“Cobra!” Heath yelled, his face red with his growing impatience.
Hell, I was starting to get impatient as well.
“Cobra Kai?” Why was I making jokes about an old kid’s movie I watched years ago? I wasn’t sure. But the name made me laugh.
I’m sorry, Kai.
“Something like that.” he lifted a single brow. “Some people call me Joe.”
“Joe?” Heath said, sounding as if that was the first he’d ever heard of it. “Your name’s Tom.”
I wasn’t sure why the hell he was prolonging my miserable existence.
Was this just all a big joke to him?
“Yeah. Teresa used to call me Joe.” His right hand lowered just a little.
Teresa? My mother’s name was Teresa.
I swallowed. Unsure, and unwilling to hope… but… I looked at his face - past the beard, and the wrinkled tan. His eyes were green near the pupils, and a dark blue on the outside. His eyes. His mouth. His nose. They were all familiar.
I had seen them a thousand times before, looking back at me from my own mirror.
What… the… fuck?
Two things happened at once. Cobra turned the pistol in his right hand to Heath .
Heath bolted, lunging out the door as Cobra fired a single shot. The pistol in his left hand flipped, until the grip faced me, barrel towards him. Like he was handing me a pair of scissors and keeping the sharp end towards himself - you know, to be polite.
I grabbed the pistol, and came to my feet, my hand sweeping as I scanned the room from left to right. As soon as a cut came into my sight, I fired.
Pop. Pop. Pop!
Three bodies lay on the ground.
Cobra put his back to me, and we moved in a circle, dropping the members of Prodigal Sons.
Where was Heath? He wasn’t down, so where the fuck was he?
He had lunged out the door, and I wanted to follow him. But then again, I didn’t, because I was too hurt to be a real threat right now. I’d have to lean on Cobra and hope he could help me get out of here.
“Behind you,” Cobra said, as his arm extended over my shoulder, his pistol aimed to my back. He let off a shot, and a body thudded to the ground.
The room was cleared, the only sounds were of our own ragged breathing, as the puddles of blood on the ground grew at a steady rate.
I was alive.
The statistically improbable outcome had happened. Luck had been on my side for once, and now…
“We gotta go, kid,” Cobra said, his large palm falling on my shoulder. “We made a lot of noise, and now we have to scram.”