Delta Dunker

My name is Okie, well that's my callsign and this is my story. I grew up in Oklahoma to a family of avid hunters. Shooting was hereditary in our family. We were all marksmen. I could put five rounds inside a quarter at 300 yards with or without a scope, and I wasn't even the best in our family.

When I was 18, tragedy struck, a massive tornado destroyed my home while I was at my summer job. I lost my mom, dad, and uncle. So, with not much family left, other than distant cousins, I did the logical thing. I joined the marines and became, you guessed it, a sniper. After 2 tours and 37 confirmed kills I was recruited by Combined Military Intelligence and Tactical group, CMIT. They trained me for a year. Stealth, weapons, hand to hand, and anything a growing boy needed to be a Delta, Designated ELite Tactical Assassin. We were assembled in 6 person squads. All of the squadmates performed specific functions within the group. My squad was as follows:

Me - logistics and planning - I'm 6' 2" 200 lbs. and been described as brilliant mentally and fluid physically. I move well for my size, I guess

Comfort - Computer forensic and tactical programming - Comfort makes me look stupid. He's 5' 6" weigh 150 lbs. and can kill you many ways or just bankrupt you and ruin your life with the internet.

Hulk - weapons, tactics, and equipment - A 6' 8" wall of solid muscle. Tell him where you are going and what you're doing and the equipment you need will be there when you need it. He's a big teddy bear, who loves children and animals. Just don't make him angry, you won't like it when he's angry. Now you know how he got his callsign.

Snickers - Emergency med tech and weapons - 5' 4" 120 lbs. of fury. She can save your life or end it. She is efficient at both. Prefers sharp things like knives and swords. Give her 2 swords and she becomes a whirlwind barbarian, Like in Diablo III. We call her snickers because she is sweet and a little bit nuts.

Aurora - Locks and digital entry points - 5' 8" 140 lbs. Expert locksmith, no lock can resist her efforts. She is from Alaska and can see the aurora borealis from her village. She's half Eniak. She is fearless, ice cold, and calculating

Flynn - Breaching and explosives - 6' 3' 200 lbs. and loves to blow shit up. Sometimes too much for his own good. Some doors don't have locks to pick. Doesn't matter apply some Thermite or one of Flynn other concoctions and were in, In like Flynn.

Our world when from easy peasy to shitstorm in a country I can't name, doing something I can't talk about, for reasons above my pay grade. We were to infiltrate a warehouse, rescue a hostage, and kill the bad guys. From the time we started the mission, we were to suffer the effects of an inclined plane wrapped around an axle. In layman's term we...were... SCREWED. Betrayed in the worst way set up by one of our own team. Flynn never made it past the front door. Comfort took a round in the hip. We holed up in a small concrete room Aurora had found. When approaching the room Aurora was caught in a kill zone, we all knew she was toast. She arrived by our side with nary a scratch. We entered the room and I turned to ask her why. She already had us covered and we were fixing to die. She told us her reason was one of the oldest, greed. They promised her wealth and comfort. She never saw Snickers knife before it entered her wrist. The gun was no longer a factor, Hulk grabbed he by her face and slammed her head into the concrete wall. He continued to squeeze, crushing her facial bone as the light faded from her eyes, all screams muffled by his gargantuan hand.

Extraction was our next concern. We all knew it was going to be bad. We told each other how much we loved and respected each other before I devised a plan and put it in motion. Flynn had enough c4 in his pack for four missions, we'll always remember him for that.

Snickers field dressed Comfort. I set the timers on the C4, and Hulk heaved it across the alley into the building where the bad guys were hiding, and we hunkered with our ears covered. The ground, the walls, and the roof vibrated as the C4 exploded. There were 3 aftershocks as the building across the alley imploded. Hulk picked up Comfort like he was a feather, Snickers grabbed his ruck and weapon and we headed toward our vehicle. The explosion apparently left the bad guys somewhat dazed, so there was minimal resistance as we left.

My team was compromised. So, in the infinite wisdom of those in command we were retired, given new identities, and enough cash to retire or start over. Retire, yeah right, it wasn't that much. It is the government after all, there was no negotiation.

We did what any red-blooded Americans would do, we pooled our money and started a security consulting business. I, Tavis Linden as I was now known, streamlined material handling and loss prevention. Comfort, Brant Lymon, of course handled cybersecurity and hack prevention. Hulk, Nat Turner, handles personal security and enforcement, Snickers, Darla Lymon, was our office manager. Yes, she married Comfort, after the shitstorm where she saved his life, they were inseparable. Who'd a thunk it. I'm just glad they got along, wouldn't want a dog in that fight. She's still a little nuts, but she adores him and he her, so it's all good.

I met Cindy at a corporate office party for one of our clients. She was a dish best served hot, and she was smoking. Cindy was a walking wet dream, 5' 6" 115 lbs. of unadulterated beauty. Blond hair, blue eyes, and perfect body. An accountant by trade and very learned. We dated for 3 months, and I popped the question. She said yes, I literally vibrated as I held the ring up to her finger. We were married 2 months later. Nat was my best and at least 3 groomsmen just by himself, Darla was Cindy's maid of honor and Brant did everything else, ushered, filmed, posted pictures, and DJ'd. It was perfect. When Nat danced with Cindy she hugged and thanked him =, he cried like a baby. Nat adored Cindy and was very protective of her. I would take pity on any man that ever hurt her. I was aware of my position in this scenario, but she was my world, and I would never willing hurt her

Life for me was perfect. Our company grew and several companies approached us about secure fund transfers. We hired an Ex-banker named Eric Whitsett. Eric was smug, arrogant, and pompous, other than that he was a nice guy. We didn't like him, but he did his job and was good at it.

Just before our 5

th

anniversary, I was scheduled for a corporate meeting in another city an hour away. Enroute, they called and cancelled. I decided to return home and take my wife to dinner.

It was 6 o'clock, Cindy got off at 3 o'clock on Fridays so the IT boys could start their weekend server backups. There was a bottle of wine on the table with two glasses. My heart began to race. Adrenaline flooded my vascular system and my war hardened limbic shut down. Whatever response was coming would not be emotional. I pulled my Glock 17 and headed up the stairs. I didn't find what I thought I might, but it was bad. Cindy was sprawled naked on the bed. She appeared to have been well used. I holstered my weapon and shook her. She did not wake up. She was breathing, but it was shallow and ragged. Her breath had an odd smell, no, not what you think. A chemical smell. I wrapped her in a blanket and drove her to a secure private medical facility controlled by CMIT. I still had friends.

She was examined, her blood analyzed. A very powerful date rape drug and hallucinogenic were found in her blood. Somebody was going to die, painfully. I called the team. Darla and Brant arrived first. Darla ran to Cindy's side and hugged her. It had been 2 hours since I found her and she was still not awake, she seemed to be catatonic, her eyes were open but unseeing. Then Nat arrived, he saw her and began to cry, then when we explained what had happened, he began to shake, violently with rage.

2 days later, Cindy was awake. We explained to her what had happened she began to sob, bawling uncontrollably. The doctors sedated her and said it might be best if we gave her some rest. We went to the waiting room to formulate a plan. We now had a top priority mission, acquire intel, identify threat, seek, and destroy with malice aforethought.

The next morning Cindy was awake and somewhat more stable. Nat and Darla held her hands as I brushed the hair from her eyes and gave her a tender kiss. She began to weep. She asked me what she had done. I told her she had done nothing and that she was my love, my one and only love. She kissed him hard and said she was sorry. I told her there was nothing to be sorry for and I held her. 2 hours later the doctor came in and said that would be ok to ask her questions, carefully. I asked her quietly what she remembered. She said the last thing she remembered was Eric bringing me some papers from the office. That was it, everything after that was gone.

Primary target acquired; Brant went into nerd mode. He drove to the office and went to find Erics computers. The hard drive on his desktop was destroyed. Tracking the money would be impossible unless we had Eric and the transaction records.

Brant and his team tracked eric Whitsett through 4 flights. The last one scheduled to arrive is Belize tomorrow at 12:05. WE were going to Belize.

We prepared and met back at the clinic. We asked the doctor if it was ok to keep Cindy sedated for a couple of days. We were going on a trip and didn't want absence to upset her. He said he could and that it might even be good to help her mind and body to recover.

At 9:00 am the next morning the team boarded a non-descript corporate jet to Belize. 6 hrs. later we were in Belize City. Eric was hard to find because he was stupid. We knew the alias he used to book the flight and he registered in the hotel under the same name. We found him at the beach in a lounge chair.

I sat down next to him in the adjoining chair to his right, Nat stood behind him, and Darla Watched intently on his left. Brant was renting a boat. When he did notice us, he began to bolt. Nat's enormous hands clamped mercilessly on his shoulders and slammed him back down in the chair. Nat was squeezing his trapezius muscles. He winced and began to cry from the pain, I was glad I was not him.

I hoped Nat didn't kill him before we got the information we needed. We took Eric for a boat ride. Fear or arrogance, arrogance won Eric began to tell us how easy it was to steal the money and how simple it was to cover his track. Did he not realize we found him and that his tracks were indeed not covered. Jesus he really was stupid. We asked him for the bank transaction info, he told us to fuck off and Nat dislocated hi left shoulder. He began to spit curses at us, Darla inserted an 8in, kabar behind his kneecap, To the hilt. He screamed in pain. He still resisted; Nat smiled as he crushed the fingers on his left hand with a 4 lb. hammer. I asked him why he would do that to my wife. He said he'd wanted to fuck her since he met her, but she wouldn't give him the time of day. He said she needed a real man, not a beta cuck like him. I twisted the knife in his knee. He blacked out. When he awoke PI asked him again for the bank info. He was thinking too slowly when Darla inserted another 8in. kabar in his right leg. He started writing and then he pulled out his wallet and gave us the account and routing numbers. Brant fired up the sat phone and verified the account info. All good.

15 mins. Later we arrived at "the Great Blue Hole". We quickly strapped the weight to Eric and Nat held him over the side. We looked at each other and nodded Nat released him, and his final resting place would soon be 410 feet below us.

8 Hrs. later we boarded the same jet and flew home. Arriving at the clinic we talked to the doctor while Brant went to the office to restore the taken money. Darla and Nat held Cindy's hands as gently kissed her as she began to awaken. I told her everything was alright, and that Eric would never bother her again. She asked me what we did to him. I looked at Nat. He met Cindy's gaze intently and spoke.

"I let him go."