They were a couple of hundred yards away, but they looked like every other kid in front of us. Cargo pants, fake faded Tshirt, Nike's and carefully set hair to make it look like it wasn't.
"The one closest to us, has a tattoo on his forearm. It's in the same spot as the kid we saw behind the bowling alley."
"Yes, he does," I said. One of the other kids turned away. It was clear he had a tattoo on the back of his neck. Too close to be a coincidence.
"It's them," Karl said. Before I could do anything Karl took off, sprinting across the softball field toward the kids.
"Freeze! Freeze! Freeze!" came from the SWAT guy in charge.
Karl started to run in a random zig zag pattern, every few steps he'd roll and get up. The troopers opened fire and the dirt kicked up all around him. The crowd of kids and teachers were in shock and started to scream and yell, and some started to run. Enough got in the way of Karl that the troopers had to stop firing.
I took off, saw Newstrom heading for Karl, who closed in on the kids. Newstrom yelled something and the Goths in Gap clothes headed for the woods. It was tough to tell where everyone went. Karl sprinted, closed the gap on the Goths, and Newstrom closed in on Karl.
The cops no longer focused on us. They tried to corral the panicked mass of kids and teachers, who at this point had discarded any emergency plan. I reached the woods and saw the three kids, Karl, and Newstrom all pursuing the one in front of them as fast as they could. Karl closed in on the tattooed neck kid. I saw him leap to do a flying tackle. The kid went down hard. Karl had him by the hair and he violently slammed the kid's head to the ground. Newstrom was within twenty feet of Karl and he had a gun in his hand. I had no weapon, but I gained on Newstrom who had slowed when he pulled out the gun. Karl slammed the kid again and rolled off him in a tight ball like he had done it a million times, coming up in a shooter's stance, and holding a gun he must've taken off of the kid.
"Drop it Chip. I swear to God I'll put one in your forehead if you don't drop it!" Karl yelled.
I stopped 20 feet to the right of Newstrom. The kid on the ground rolled over, his face was a bloody mess. He grabbed for his nose crying like a three-year old. The absurdness of a terrorist crying like a toddler stuck with me for some reason. His buddies kept running through the woods to who the hell knows where. So much for loyalty.
"Karl, Karl, Karl…" Newstrom said. "You're still one hell of a soldier, I'll give you that." Newstrom kept his gun at his side while he smirked at Karl.
"Shut the fuck up," Karl said. "It's over. I got you this time. You're going to get what's coming to you." Karl paused and looked to me. "Duff, take his gun."
I walked toward Newstrom, who spied me from the corner of his eye.
"Karl, Karl, Karl, I know you're nuts, but you've never been stupid."
"Look asshole, it's over, you and your security company assholes are done. I'm going public."
I walked toward Newstrom deliberately. I was hyper aware of what went on, but it almost didn't seem real.
"Get the gun, Duffy."
"Karl, don't be a fool. You've got nothing on me. I'm an old football hero and class president here to visit the alma mater. You're the one who brought the troopers and threatened the school. You even beat up this poor high school junior."
"Poor high schooler with a gun."
"No one will ever know that part," Newstrom smiled. "In fact no one will know much about this at all. We've got too much behind us, Karl. I'm just going to drift away and no one will ever know any of this. You'll go to prison and I'll be on to the next thing."
"Not this time," Karl said.
"Oh yeah, Karl you should've killed yourself when you had a chance. You were stupid enough to let those dead towel-head kids bother you-surely this shit will have you even crazier. And when you get to prison you'll find out the kind of connections I have there."
"Get his gun Duff."
I moved closer to Newstrom.
"You're a fool Karl. You could've been living my life and you pissed it away. There's no way you can stop me. You may have stopped me here, but I'll be on to the next mission and nothing will stop me." Newstrom's tone showed no sign of stress.
"Get the gun, Duff."
I stepped to Newstrom's side and reached for the gun very carefully.
In a split second Newstrom caught me under the chin with the barrel, which forced the gun from his hand and knocked me down. I rolled over and sprang up a bit wobbly from the blow. Newstrom was in front of me. He went to kick me in the face, but I caught his foot and twisted it until he went down hard on his back. My mind went dark and something went through me. It was like a waking nightmare-a panic attack in real time.
Now kneeling on Newstrom's chest, throwing piston punches on his face, my shirt splattered with blood with each and every shot. His face was almost purple with blood; I noticed part of his nose had separated from the rest of his face. I wasn't in control, something else was. It came up through the center of me and wouldn't stop.
"Duffy, No! No! No!" I heard in the distance. "No! No! You can't"
Something hit me hard like a halfback running into me. I came off Newstrom onto my back. Karl stood over me panting. My vision kept going in and out. Newstrom didn't move.
"I think you killed him, Duff," Karl said, looking down at the motionless body of Newstrom.
I was barely lucid as I got up on my knees to look. Karl knelt beside Newstrom doing chest compressions.
"C'mon, Chip, C'mon you motherfucker." Newstrom spit up blood and moaned loudly. He rolled to his side and puked a mixture of blood and vomit. Karl started to shake and he looked terrified.
"Freeze! Hold it right there!" A voice from behind us interrupted whatever the hell was going on in Karl's and my head.
It was one of the troopers, all in black, and he had three soldiers with him. I knew immediately they were the three guys who jumped me in the hospital parking lot. The four of them had their assault rifles fixed on us. From between them stopped a guy in a turtleneck and corduroy slacks.
It was Dr. Theodore Martin, Karl's psychiatrist in Germany, and now the trauma/grief shrink who showed up on television after each bit of terrorism.
40
"Karl, can't you just take your medicine and leave well enough alone?" The doctor said as he paced a few feet in front of his armed guards.
"That's what you would've wanted isn't it? Well fuck you, Doc," Karl said.
"Your friend nearly beat your old buddy Chippy to death. Corporal, attend to the Lieutenant." Two of the soldiers rushed to Newstrom's side, lifted him, and carried him back to where they had been standing.
"Get him in the Hummer. We'll need medical back up," Martin said. Behind them, parked in the woods was a jet black Hummer. It must've been how they got in here in the first place.
"He's going to jail-you're all going to jail, you scumbags," Karl said.
"Karl, Karl, Karl, you really are insane. There will be no jail. There will be no media coverage. We don't exist, we don't answer to the usual sources. You watch; the papers tomorrow will report on the drill at VHS. There will be no mention of us or you or the stupid teenagers we trained. It all goes away. Just like it always does. It all goes away."
"I stopped you this time, you asshole, and I'll keep stopping you," Karl yelled at them.
"I'll give you this, Karl, you did indeed get in the way of this operation, there's no doubt. I'd have you killed if we hadn't already succeeded at well, how do I say this…keeping people from taking you seriously. Your friend there, he made it a bit more complicated, but after the debacle at Notre Dame, not many see him as credible."