Sam waited in the buzzing undergrowth, swatting at the circling insects; she wondered if her timing had been correct. A heavy tread came to her hearing from along the path, and everything around them fell silent. Glancing at Stan as he talked to Amy where they hid in the undergrowth, she hoped he would get her to control herself. The others in this makeshift team could be kept from being given away while terminating the oncoming trackers. Turning toward the path again, she took in the vantage points that could be used if necessary. The bodies of the ambushers had been left in the clearing. Sam hoped they would be enough distraction to give them the element of surprise.
"What is that?" she heard a voice say as men trailed into the clearing, "where is Bravo Team?"
"I think that is Bravo Team," another man spoke, pointing at the bodies in the centre, "if that's our team, where is she?"
Sam's gaze narrowed, "she." Who were they talking about, Amy or herself?
Perhaps both?
The men walked toward the bodies gathering in a loose group, "Yeah, she got them. That means she's heading to the mountain. Call it in and tell them to intervene before she gets there."
Someone pulled a satellite phone from their belt, pressing numbers to dial. When the sudden discharge of a gun exploded in the clearing, the man fell. Remaining still where he fell. Alert, angry eyes scanned the area.
"Where did that come from?" the leader asked.
"Not sure," another said, looking at his dead teammate before pointing toward the clearing exit, "but it could have been from that direction."
"You three," the leader pointed to three men, "check the path and report."
Davidson and his team silently tracked the three men as they left the clearing. Sam knew the trackers would not be returning. Returning her attention to the three in the clearing, she waited for them to check the bodies before appearing and clearing her throat. Three men swung around, aiming weapons at her. Breathing in deeply, she smiled.
"So nice to finally meet whoever you are," she said, "I don't like knowing who is tracking me."
"You're the Headrow girl," the leader said, glancing toward the clearing exit, "you'll be outnumbered in a moment, and then you'll have nowhere to go."
"Oh, you're talking about those three," Sam said, nodding, the smile sliding from her face, "they're not coming back."
"Shoot her," the leader yelled as Sam moved toward them, "kill her."
Rapid gunfire sent a lead storm in her direction as she broke into a run. Some shots hit the protective gear. While she felt others slam into her legs and arms. White hot pain fed her anger, and rage exploded deep within. Rippling unchecked through her veins. She was close to the blackout stage when she would be unaware of most of her actions. Holding onto her fading reality for as long as possible was important for everyone involved.
"Take her out," the leader shouted, fear sliding through his eyes on seeping into his expression.
"I've hit her a few times," the other man said, "she still comes."
Sam felt cold satisfaction seep through her as she landed her first punch, followed by the rapid extension of her leg, connecting hard with flesh. Reality began to slip; frantically trying to hold onto the last strand, Sam continued to mow into the men.
Stan pushed a sobbing Amy lower into the undergrowth. She had done her best to keep from making a sound. It was his job to keep her safe, but as he watched Sam take hit after hit, his first instinct was to abandon his charge and back her up. But her instructions had been clear. Brutally clear, he was to handle Amy and keep her safe and whole or feel her wrath. The testimony she would give was vital to ending the Tenderhook family as a whole. Here he sat watching Sam single-handedly take on three men who were there for one reason, to kill her at any cost.
Biting his lip as Sam landed her first punch and the sickening thud of her first kick. Narrowing his eyes, he watched as she shuddered before turning and taking on three men simultaneously. Quick, concise movements disarmed them. One caught her around the throat pulling him up and against him, while another ran to land punches at her mid-drift. Stan watched in stunned awe as Sam used the incoming man's momentum to climb him with her feet, latching her legs around his neck and twisting. The sound of the neck snapping made Stan swallow hard, but Sam didn't seem to care. She continued twisting, taking the man behind her over her back and using him as a landing mat as he took her with him. The thud of the bodies vibrated over the ground, making Amy cling to him in fear. Checking her, he saw her face pale before she blinked quickly, covering her mouth. Snapping his gaze back to the clearing, he watched as the leader picked up one of the guns, aiming it down at Sam, still locked in the arm grip on the floor.
"She's going to die," Amy gasped, hiding her face against his shoulder, "please don't let her die."
"It may look like she's outmanned," Stan whispered, "but something tells me she has them exactly where she wants them."
Amy looked up in time to see Sam kick into the groin area of the man holding her on the ground. The man gasped, sitting up and releasing Sam as his teammate fired; the man slumped forward before toppling backwards.
"It's not possible," the leader shouted as Sam ran at him, her legs and arms a blurry flash as they connected with the man's body.
Stan noticed the return of Davidson and his team. They stopped immediately and crouched.
What did they know he didn't?
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Davidson looked his way, giving the thumbs up and the signal to remain where they were. Stan nodded.
A cry of pain drew their attention; the leader knelt on the ground, one of his arms at a strange angle while his other hand pulled a knife into view. Sam kicked it out of his hand as he rose. Spinning and landing a kick to the head and the solar flex almost simultaneously. The leader's head whipped around and back before he sank to the floor.
Counting, Stan watched Sam's strangely cold stare take in the clearing before she closed her eyes, breathing deeply and shaking her head.
What was she doing?
Sam felt the cold clamp of the blackout slip away as she kept her eyes closed and breathing became deep and even. The first sign of the return to reality was the sting of the bullets in her flesh. Slowly opening her eyes, she rolled her neck and shoulders, rubbing her sweating hands down her pants. The sound from the edge of the clearing brought her head up, her gaze alert. Davidson and his team paused, standing still, probably hardly breathing either.
"What did you see?" she asked as they inhaled and continued to approach.
"Enough," Davidson said, "three and not a hit."
"I was hit," Sam said, "many times, but I'm..." she sighed, "you know it doesn't slow me down."
"We suspected it was something strange like that," Jacobson said, "but weren't sure how far you'd been taken."
"I haven't been taken anywhere," Sam said, "I was born like this."
"You're one of the Tenderhook babies?" Anderson asked.
"I don't know," Sam shrugged, "my parents never told me if I was."
"You're fast," Davidson said, "faster than any of us. Can Stan bring Amy out now?"
Sam turned to the pair, slowly standing from the undergrowth. Amy was pale, her cheeks wet with tears, clinging to Stan as though she would fall if she let go.
"Everyone okay?" Sam asked, noting Stan still holding his weapon, his stare holding a strange quality.
"Yeah," he nodded, "we're all good."
"Great," she said, rolling her shoulders again, "give Amy a shot of alcohol before she faints, then let's move out. We don't have much time."
"Do we take the sat phone?" Stan asked.
"No, everything of theirs stays behind," Davidson said, "if it's a Tenderhook issue, there will be people collecting their gear and perhaps their bodies before long."
Amy gasped before shuddering as her eyes took in the carnage, "Need to leave ... now."
"If you can walk," Sam said, looking over the distraught woman, "we can leave ... right now."
"What about the bodies?" Amy asked, averting her eyes from the carnage.
"What about them?" Sam asked, sending off a text.
"Don't we need to do something about them?" Amy said, edging past them.
"No," Sam said, "Davidson already pointed out that they will be tracked and probably be retrieved soon."
Nodding, A my followed Stan as they collected their backpacks and left the clearing.
"We'll need to move quickly," Sam said, "I have a feeling whoever sent them is not far behind. We need to put distance between us and ... that."
"Copy that," Davidson said, "but I'm not sure the civilian is in any state to do double time."
"What is double time?" Amy asked.
"Running," Stan said, "helps to cover more distance. I'll stay with you if you're not up to it."
"I'm up for anything to get us away from ..." she swallowed hard, "that ... carnage back there."
Sam looked at Amy for a long time before turning to Davidson, "Give the order. Double time it is."
Nodding, Davidson called for his team to gear up and then barked the order of direction and double time it. Sam glanced back at what she had done, sighing; she shook her head, scratching at the last bullet wound as the mushed shot was pushed from her body and the hole closed up.
"Yeah, Dad, we're designed to survive," Sam whispered, feeling lonely as she watched the others disappear into the forest. "But it's not something anyone can really know the details about, can they? Designed to survive ..." shaking her head, she shook her limbs and rolled her neck before following the group into the forest.
The light on the body camera flickered before fading. On the other side of the camera, a room full of technicians, scientists and doctors stood silent, stunned and baffled.
"Can someone tell me what just happened?" Andris Tenderhook asked.
"It would seem your genetically engineered trackers were taken out by ..." the man swallowed hard, "one woman."
"How is that possible?" Ares asked, pushing to his feet and pacing.
"We have the most cutting-edge procedures at our fingertips," Andris spat, "how can one woman get shot that many times and still kill all my men?"
"Without seeing her or her blood tests, we will never know," the doctor said, "but she is not someone who can be manipulated or tricked."
"How do you know?" Ares asked, his gaze snapping to the doctor.
"That woman is Samantha Headrow," the doctor said, looking between the two men, "she comes from a long line of people who are loyal, honourable and just. If we can distinguish anything from what we've just seen, she will not come without a fight. If she comes at all."
"Change the order," Andris said, "no longer is it kill on sight ... I want her captured. We need to play with her a little."
"A play date, brother," Ares said as the brothers turned to leave, "how nice of you to think of that ... I'll send out the invitation."
The doctors ran a cloth over his damp forehead, swallowing hard as revulsion rose. No matter why he was here, it was what he was forced to do that made him feel ill every time he received an order.
"I pray they never catch her," he whispered, "this insanity has to stop. It has to come to an end."
"So it shall," a female technician whispered, "that woman is the key to their demise. They just don't know it."
"What do you mean?" the doctor asked.
"Samantha Headrow is one of the ThinkTank babies," the technician whispered, "one of the few successes and her survival was not due to anything they have. The technology that saved her and her mother's life came from somewhere else."
The doctor stared blankly at the technician, "One of the babies who survived and thrived."
The technician nodded, "Nothing those insane brothers do will bring her in or over to their side. You saw what she is capable of, and when in blackout mode ... devastation follows in her wake."
"Do you have that information on the system?" the doctor asked, looking around carefully.
The technician nodded, moving toward her station, "Why?"
"Delete it," he said, "they must never know."
"Delete what?" the technician asked.
"Everything. The search findings everything."
"Consider it done," the technician said, "it's time we took a stand."