Juliette #3
They knew the patrol path of this last man would have him circle east and partially around the side of the cabin. They’d take him there. They positioned themselves spread out at the farthest point he had gone to, and waited for Rogers to tell them he approached. They’d take him down as he passed.
Several minutes later, they heard branches cracking with the approach of their Tango, as word that he drew near came through their comms. Burke peeked from behind the tree trunk; he had his body pressed to.
He wore his NVGs. He caught sight of the man, whose face looked as if he were about twelve years old despite his man-sized body.
That wouldn’t affect the way Burke approached him.
Tessman had a similar baby-face, and he was lethal.
Burke remained where he was but slid his NVGs back onto his forehead.
As soon as the man was beside him, he grabbed him, his right hand over the man’s mouth, his left around his torso, and he jumped onto him, wrapping his legs around the man’s body.
He brought them both to the ground and squeezed tightly, immobilizing him instantly.
Tessman swooped in and first zip-tied his feet, which kicked in a futile attempt to free himself from Burke’s stranglehold.
Then he secured the man’s hands as Burke kept his mouth silenced.
They were too close to the guards at the door to risk a sound escaping the man, so Tessman pinched his nose until he fell unconscious.
Then he placed the duct tape over his mouth.
“Tango four neutralized,” Tessman broadcast.
“The two in front are getting antsy,” Wilson’s whispered voice came through comms.
“We’ll come around the side and taser them where they stand,” Burke transmitted. He drew his taser, as did Tessman.
“I’ve got you covered,” Wilson replied. “Wait for my mark.”
The two men moved stealthily up the side of the cabin, silent and invisible. Burke was in front. He flashed a hand signal at Tessman. The meaning was clear. Tessman would take the Tango farthest away, and he’d stay standing. Burke would drop to his knees and take the Tango closest to them.
Burke steadied his breathing, waiting for Wilson’s go-order.
He was as accurate in his marksmanship with a taser as he was any other weapon, but given the one-shot nature of a taser, if the Tango evaded the barbs on the first fire, he’d have to draw his weapon and fire a live round.
In this situation, that would alert everyone in the cabin.
“Now,” came Wilson’s order.
Both men pivoted around the corner. Burke dropped to his knees as he acquired his target in his crosshairs.
He squeezed the trigger, propelling the barbs at one hundred eighty feet per second.
The telltale clicking sound accompanied the moans from the two men as they collapsed forward and writhed on the ground.
Both men set the tasers on the ground and drew their weapons as they rushed towards the downed men and the cabin door.
As they reached it, it opened. The man opening it was the black man who’d arrived with Ellison.
He wasn’t in the proper position to fire.
His mistake. Burke immobilized him with one throat punch.
The second man had his shotgun raised, but Tessman was on him faster than he could react and disarmed him in a matter of seconds.
He used the butt of the shotgun to hit the man in his head, and he crumpled beside the two men whom they tazed.
The man Burke throat-punched lay on the ground clutching his throat and gasping for air.
He was getting some past his partially collapsed trachea, from the sounds of it.
“Federal agents!” Burke yelled, his body pressed against the outside of the cabin door.
The loud explosion of a shotgun answered him.
Tessman had his back pressed to the wall on the other side of the still-open door.
So, no one was close enough to the door to close it.
Burke made eye contact with Tessman. He counted down on his hand: three fingers, two, one.
Then he dove through the open door, rolled up to one knee as Tessman did the same.
“Federal agents with a warrant. Drop the weapons or we shoot!” Burke yelled.
“Now!” Tessman added when two seconds later the two men hadn’t complied.
In front of them, Mark Ellison held a pistol to a woman’s head.
She sat in a chair. Beside him, another man held the shotgun in firing position.
The silenced, but distinct sound of Wilson’s Seekings SP10 sniper’s rifle being fired was heard as the man with the shotgun got a confused and stunned look on his face.
Over his chest, a red stain grew quickly.
He dropped the shotgun a moment before his body fell beside it.
Ellison didn’t move. He didn’t drop his gun. He was crouched down, trying to hide behind the woman.
“You can’t conceal yourself enough behind her to eliminate my shot, and I will take it,” Burke warned.
“Give us a reason,” Tessman added. “I’d prefer to call the coroner than our backup.”
Ellison’s lips twisted into a smirk. “I’ll be out within twenty-four hours, and you both better watch your backs.” He set the pistol on the table.
Burke rushed him and body-slammed him into the wall while Tessman covered him. The woman tried to get up.
“Stay right there until we have him secured. We’ll get to you next,” Tessman told her.
Burke searched him. He had no other weapons. He ordered him to the floor on his stomach and zip-tied his hands and feet. Then, while Tessman still covered him, he moved over to the woman. Her hands were tied behind her back to the chair she was sitting in.
“Who are you and why are you tied here?” Burke asked her before cutting her loose.
“I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I’m, I was Mark’s girlfriend until a few days ago when he told me there was a warrant for his arrest and he wanted me to flee with him. When I said no, he forcibly took me. My name is Celeste Browning.”
Burke cut the ropes. “Do you have any ID on you?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know where my purse is.”
He opened the fingerprint app on his phone as Wilson stuck his head in. “I’ve got all of them secured out here. Ops call in backup.”
“Roger, Charlie Team,” Dupont acknowledged.
“Are we still clear, Powder?” Wilson asked as Burke pressed each of the woman’s digits to the screen of his phone, capturing her prints.
“Affirmative,” Rogers replied.