I count thirty attackers. That’s not good. Nope, it’s at least forty. The FBI are safe; they’re at a distance. If they rush us, we can’t kill fast enough. Like me, these are trained men, two or three crash through windows simultaneously; at best, I kill two, possibly just one. Of course, that’s if we play fair. I don’t intend to.
We hear the warning played over several loudspeakers in both English and German. That only made them run on hearing the words in German. My team is all inside the house. We’re relying on the FBI snipers to thin the herd. As they rush, my house floodlights turn on. Several of the attackers stop to shoot the lights. That’s not easy when they’re behind bullet-proof glass. A good sniper rifle can still break them, and we lost most of them.
However, I see an alarming number of attackers falling. Either the FBI are exceptional marksmen, or someone else is out there. I don’t have much time to think about that. I have three men break windows as they fall into the living room and dining room, and that’s my two designated rooms to cover. I hear shooting elsewhere in the house. At the first crack of glass, I turn on the lights and open my eyes.
They’re disoriented in their night-vision goggles. My mind slows down; I shoot the first guy with a drawn weapon, turn to hit the second as he’s rolling to his feet, and shoot a third that just shot me in the left arm. FUCK, that hurts. I scream!
Immediately Juan says on the mic, “Baby got a boo-boo again?”
I’ll fucking kill him.
I yell into the radio, “3.”
All the others return with, “1.”
I forget my radio is still on, “God damn. Fuck! Fuck! Son of a fucking bitch!” I’m furious about getting shot.
Next thing on the radio, “BILL! Stop swearing! Or else!” from mom.
Oh, how embarrassing. Now the guy’s startup.
Jose adds, “Go find your mommy; she will kiss it and make it better.”
Matt adds, “Give your sister your weapon; I bet she can avoid being shot.”
Big Al adds, “Yup, he’s getting soft on us. He brings his mother to the battlefield.”
I hear DAD say, “HEY! Shut up, keep the line clear. We still have men to kill you, pansies! Get back to work!”
I think it was Jose that replied, “DAD, can you tuck me in tonight?”
The radio goes silent. I hear two more shots in the house and then sporadic shooting outside.
Time returns to normal. My arm hurts like hell, and I’m bleeding but not spurting blood. I am still poised to shoot the next thing that moves and will stay that way until we get the “All clear.”
I hear DAD over the radio, “Stand down, all clear. Besides the human dartboard, anyone else gets shot?” No answers. “At ease, men, job well done. Now let’s drink Bill’s liquor.”
I hear a herd of humans running up the stairs. They all turn and run at me. Each has a big first aid kit with them. They all want to bandage me up while I want the bullet removed. Big Al already had the bullet removed before the two nurses arrive. I could have talked anyone through the process, but the nurses knew exactly what to do and fix me up.
I am still on the floor when DAD comes in.
He looks at me, “Son, you’re just too damn big to be doing this anymore.”
He helps me stand up, and then he hugs the hell out of me. We walk into the kitchen where mom and Jane are cooking some late-night snacks. Juan has pulled out every liquor bottle we own. Vickie is attached to my hip; she won’t let go. No talking, smiling, or anything. It’s like she’s shell-shocked.
I suggest, “Set me down at the table, then how about helping mom and Jane out. There will be a gang here soon.” Looking at DAD, “Two teams?”
He says, “I started asking the Pentagon for phone numbers and addresses for my former teams. Those boys are smart and soon figure out what my intentions were. An old admiral buddy of mine offers three functional teams to assist me with a “Training mission.” He heard about Sophia, and she was the one that he asked for help. He felt responsible. He remembered you, and that sealed the deal. The others would have come, but they put in their time.”
Mom strays from the grill and pushes her breasts good into DAD, hugs him, kisses him, and then says, “I’m MOB, Mother of Bill. Thank you for saving our lives.”
DAD laughs, “You have the finest seal team we ever made protecting you. I brought the others so they wouldn’t destroy your home.”
Mom says lovingly, “Everything but my two babies can be replaced. If you don’t mind helping me, I want to load up the table with food for your army.”
DAD helped mom with the dishes, and I found it cute. Vickie isn’t laughing.
I smile at her, “It’s just another trophy to impress the women with.”
She smiled at that. Soon, a hoard of attractive young men descended on the dining room and kitchen, where the food and alcohol are.
I tease Vickie, “Lots of young, strong single men out there.”
She looks at me with apathy, “Between the therapy and the drugs, I know there is no way I can orgasm with a man I don’t know well. I tried it with Juan. I thought because I got to know him, I could do it … I failed. He was nice about it, and he even predicted that would be the result. No anger at all for me; if anything, it was pity that I saw.”
She gets an idea, “Let me get you a plate of food and some wine.”
I counter her orders, “No wine. I will be on painkillers in a few hours, and it’s not good to mix the two. A snack would be nice, and nothing messy and something easy to eat.”
While waiting, a little guy comes up to me, and he looks at me curiously.
I ask him, “You lost?”
He has a cocky attitude, “I’m the best Navy Seal in my class. They said that to be the best, I had to knock out a guy they call The Beast.” The house is silent now. “I know martial arts and have so far won every match. I don’t see how you beat me. You’re too big, too slow; you have no chance.”
In a flash, I’m standing. He looks up at me; his cocky grin is gone. I reach for his arm. He’s a quick guy; he pulls away. I guess I am quicker; I grab his arm.
I give him his instructions, “Break free.”
He chuckles, “That’s it? That’s all I have to do?”
My team starts to chuckle. They have seen much bigger men fail.
The kid hits me in the stomach, and I don’t flinch. He kicks my knee and twists so he can kick me in the head. That was annoying. Every punch and kick is blocked by me. After a while, I have had enough. I pick him up off the ground.
DAD is standing right there and knows where this is going.
DAD says in a low voice, “Bill, don’t hurt this one. He’s a good kid. You did your job; you taught him humility. Now set him down and release him, in that order, please.”
I did set him down, “Your stance is terrible; your punches are telegraphed. Try a different master. You have potential.”
Vickie sits me down and feeds me. Some of the stuff needs to be cut, and my arm is sore. Twenty minutes later, a doctor shows up. I am taken out to a mobile ER, where they stitch me up the right way. I am given a pain killer, and then it’s back to the party. Vickey was attached to me at the hip the entire time. She didn’t talk and stayed out of the way. I half expected mom or Jane to be here. They’re trying to entertain at home; it’s their house. Vickie is just a visitor. My guess is that they know she’s watching over me and aren’t concerned.