Chapter 5 - The Ambush
I dropped beneath the window sill just as a barrage of bullets shredded the wooden walls of the cabin.
Splinters rained down on my head like tiny daggers.
I crawled across the dusty floorboards toward the back door of the small structure.
I knew I could not fight an entire squad of heavily armed mercenaries with my bare hands.
I needed a distraction, and I needed it immediately.
I found a rusty propane tank sitting near an old camping stove in the corner.
I opened the valve completely, letting the highly flammable gas fill the small enclosed space.
I grabbed a box of waterproof matches from the counter and struck one against the rough wood.
I tossed the burning match toward the stove and kicked the back door open.
I sprinted into the dense tree line just as the cabin erupted into a massive, deafening explosion.
The shockwave knocked me off my feet, sending me tumbling into a shallow ravine.
The mercenaries shouted in confusion, their formation breaking as the fire raged out of control.
I used the chaos to slip away silently through the thick underbrush.
I hiked for six grueling hours until I finally reached the outskirts of the city.
I stole a heavy hooded sweatshirt from a clothesline to conceal my recognizable face.
I walked into a crowded public library and sat down at an isolated computer terminal.
I needed an ally who was completely outside of Captain Miller's corrupt chain of command.
I pulled out my challenge coin and traced the name engraved on the back.
Miles Kerr was a retired Marine, but he still retained high level security clearance.
More importantly, he wanted justice for his son's ruined career.
I used the library computer to find his current residential address.
I slipped out the back door and navigated the public transit system to reach his suburban neighborhood.
I knocked on his front door, keeping my head lowered beneath the large hood.
The door opened, but it was not the older man who answered.
It was a young man in a wheelchair, his legs heavily braced from multiple reconstructive surgeries.
It was Danny Kerr, the young pilot I had guided down to the carrier deck two years ago.
He recognized my eyes instantly beneath the shadows of the hood.
"Commander Maddox," Danny whispered in sheer disbelief.
"I need your father's help, Danny," I replied urgently.
Danny pulled me inside the house and locked the deadbolt securely.
"My father is currently at the Pentagon trying to get a meeting with the Secretary of the Navy," Danny explained.
"Then we need to call him and tell him to abort," I said.
"Captain Miller is part of the Vanguard conspiracy, and he will intercept your father."
Danny's face turned completely pale.
"It is too late," Danny said.
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"My father just texted me that Captain Miller is driving him back to the house right now."
I looked out the front window and saw a black military SUV pull into the driveway.
