Dead Six

the chainsaw until it was too late.

“Come and save me, damn it.”

There was blood everywhere as I was cut in half. “Too late. I’m dead.” I tossed the vibrating controller on the couch. Tailor swore at me first and then the Xbox.

The biggest open room on the first floor of the dorms had been turned into the rec room. We’d scrounged up a couple of games, a bunch of free weights, and a dart board. Our chalk was enjoying the break. Wheeler was spotting Hudson, as our big man bench-pressed enormous amounts of weight. Wheeler saw that we were toast and got excited. “About time. Our turn. Wrap it up, Hud.”

Hudson grunted as he shoved up three hundred pounds for the ninth time. He was actually scary. “One. More.”

“You suck, Val,” Tailor whined as his character was curb-stomped to death. “You completely and utterly suck. You sucked so hard you choked on your suck. You suck at horde mode.”

I raised an eyebrow. “It’s this stupid controller. I hate playing shooters on a console. A keyboard and mouse is superior in every way.”

Before Tailor could rebut and begin another nerd argument, Hudson racked the weights and stood up. “Get outta my chair, Tailor.” He grinned. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

“How about me and you play, Hud?” Tailor asked him. “Let these uncoordinated monkeys go play Candy Land or something. Leave the horde to the real men.”

“It’s my turn,” Wheeler insisted. “Just because it’s your call sign doesn’t mean you can hog it all day. Here, I’ll pull all the weights off for you, and we’ll see if you can do just the bar. Val, you better be ready to spot so he doesn’t drop it on his concave chest and hurt himself.”

Tailor flipped them both the bird as he passed over his controller. “Screw you, Wheeler, you soulless ginger. It ain’t my fault I want to enjoy the finest recreation that Club Sara-Dia has to offer.”

“Saradia,” Hudson corrected as he flopped onto the couch. “Say it with me. Saw-radia.”

“Sara-Dia!” Tailor exclaimed, needlessly accentuating his twang.

“Now you’re just messing with me,” Hudson muttered.

“What?” Tailor asked. “Sara-Dia.”

“Hell, I can’t tell if you’re Southern or handicapped,” Wheeler said. “But I repeat myself.”

We were becoming a tight crew. One of the things I’d missed after leaving Vanguard was the camaraderie. It was good to have the R&R time together. Too bad it was temporary.

One of the colonel’s security men appeared in the doorway. “Tailor, Valentine, Mr. Willis needs to speak to you right away.” He didn’t even wait for the response.

Tailor groaned. “Oh, what now?”

“Come on, man.” I headed for the door. “This is why we’re paid the medium bucks.”

“I’m management. I should be getting bigger bucks.” Tailor reluctantly followed. He stopped at the doorway to shout at Hudson and Wheeler. “Sara-Dia!” Then he ducked around the corner as Wheeler chucked an orange Fanta can at him.

The two of us headed across the courtyard. Tailor seemed to be in a better than normal mood, but shooting people in third-world nations was his element. “How’s Sarah doing?”

“She’s good,” I replied, suspicious. “Why?”

“I bet,” he said, smirking. I raised an eyebrow at him. “Val, I know you two are getting it on. She jumped your bones in the safe house, didn’t she?”

I chuckled. “As a matter of fact—”

Tailor laughed. “I hope you at least turned the couch cushions over.” I felt my face flush, and Tailor laughed at me again. “It’s about time, anyway. That girl’s been after you since the day you met.”

“This whole thing is insane,” I said. “I mean, it’s intense. I feel like a teenager. I don’t know how it’s going to work out, but—”

“Goddamn it Val, there you go again!” Tailor said, interrupting me. “Quit overthinking it! You always spaz out and scare the girl off.”

“When did I ever,” I began.

Tailor interrupted me again. “Remember Teresa?”

“Oh . . . right,” I said.

“I’m always right,” Tailor insisted. I was dubious about that claim, but in this instance he was. Teresa had been a medical assistant with Vanguard, and she was the last woman I’d almost had a relationship with. I more or less pushed her away. I had to give myself credit, though. I was trying really hard to avoid doing the same thing to Sarah. “I’m serious. Stop being such a big spaz-girl. I can’t have you worrying about some bullshit angst when we’re out in the field.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said. Tailor doused his cigarette as we entered the building. Gordon Willis and Colonel Hunter were waiting for us in the classroom.

Gordon greeted us enthusiastically. As always, he was wearing a suit. Anders was there also, leaning against the back wall, looking bored. “Mr. Tailor! Mr. Valentine!” Gordon said, vigorously shaking our hands. “Great to see you boys again. Damn fine work you’re doing out there. Your hit on the terrorist recruitment house went off without a hitch. Now, our Zubaran counterparts were pissed that you caused so much collateral damage.” Gordon leaned in closer and theatrically lowered his voice. “Off the record, boys, I don’t give a shit about that. I’m glad to see you mopping the floor with hajji.”

“Wait a minute,” Tailor said. “You sure as hell gave a shit last time.”

“I see where you’re coming from, Mr. Tailor. Last time there was some concern that making too big of a splash too soon would cause some of our known targets to go to ground. We were able to keep things under control, and that didn’t happen. The plan now is to kick it in high gear, keep hammering the enemy, so they don’t have any safe places to hide.”

Tailor and I looked at each other. I could tell Tailor wanted to get in Gordon’s face, but I shook my head ever so slightly. He just frowned and sat down.

“Have you had a chance to look over your mission packets?” Gordon asked as I took my seat. We hadn’t. “Well, I guess that’s why we’re having this briefing, isn’t it?” Gordon said, laughing at his own joke. Tailor and I ignored him and opened our packets. “As you can see, gentlemen,” Gordon continued, “we don’t have a lot of information on the next target. His name is Adar. We believe that he is originally from Saudi Arabia. We don’t know if Adar is his real name. We also suspect that he has ties to the Saudi government, but we’re not sure what those ties are.”

I looked through my packet as Gordon talked. This guy had spent years running all over Southwest Asia killing American and British soldiers. There was only one photograph, and it was taken from far away. He was a pretty nondescript looking guy, with short hair and a trimmed mustache. He was braced against the cinder block wall, looking out a window, carrying a Russian SVU bullpup sniper rifle affixed with a sound suppressor.

“I’ve heard of this guy,” Tailor said. “Read about him on the Net. They say he’s killed over a hundred Americans. The army thinks he’s a myth, nothing but terrorist propaganda.”

“If only that were the case,” Gordon said, doing a very good job of feigning sincerity. “Adar is quite real, and that number is probably accurate. We don’t know who he really is, who he works for, or who trained him, but he’s a definite threat. Eliminating him will help me prove to my superiors that Project Heartbreaker is a worthwhile cause.”

“So we’ve been able to track him down, then?” I asked.

“Exactly!” Gordon said, sounding upbeat. “He keeps a home in Zubara, in the village of Umm Bab, near the Saudi border.”

“So, the US has been trying to find this guy for years, but all of a sudden we find out where he lives? How do we know this information is good?” I asked.

Gordon didn’t bat an eye. “Twenty-four hours ago, we intercepted an e-mail from Adar. He’s returning to Zubara and will be staying at his house here. However, if it turns out Adar isn’t there, we’ll just cancel the operation and go back to square one. If the information proves to be accurate, you two are going to go in and kill Adar.”

“What? Just the two of us again? What about Hudson and Wheeler? They were assigned to me.” Tailor was visibly agitated now.

“The operational plan calls for two shooters, Mr. Tailor,” Gordon said dismissively. “I wasn’t able to get