Kidd stood at the doorway listening for any sounds from the hallway. The initial barrage of gunfire rattled the walls for several minutes, but now the air was cut by infrequent coughs as whatever firefight going on outside the room settled into a relative calm. The rip of fully automatic weapons had assaulted their senses, but now the individual pops seemed explosive in comparison. Kidd’s anxiousness grew with each pop until his nerves forced him to action.
His ears rang, and his throat and eyes burned.
He couldn’t breathe.
Over his shoulder, he glanced at Alexis. “Stay here.”
“No.”
Kidd turned fully. “What?”
“I said no. I’m going with you.” She had laced her shoes and straightened her clothes. “You aren’t leaving me.”
Kidd started to speak but couldn’t come up with a reasonable argument. In fact, given what the Marines were tasked with, or more accurately what they weren’t, he didn’t want to leave her behind.
“Fine. But, stay behind me.”
He pulled the door open quickly, intending to get to a rear exit as fast as possible. But, he had assumed, or rather hoped, that the quiet indicated an empty hallway. Instead, a dark figure was striding down the hall, reaching the doorway just as Kidd opened it.
The unexpected apparition caused Kidd to flinch. The assailant had on blood red fatigues so dark that Kidd initially took them for black. Fancy night vision gear and a black cap covered enough of the face that Kidd couldn’t make out anything about his features, though it was definitely a ‘he.’ The guy was easily over 6 feet tall and built for power, the shirt cutting a large frame and pants defining thighs that were as thick as Kidd’s torso.
Kidd took all this in immediately and reacted. And, fortunately for him, his eyes were well acclimated to the darkness. The night vision equipment the stranger wore, while helpful in dark spaces, had limitations in tight spaces as it greatly hindered peripheral vision. Kidd’s fist flew toward the figure, the man sensing the door being opened but reacting too late.
His right hand connected with the man’s jaw as he turned and pain exploded down Kidd’s arm. A loud crack virtually assured Kidd of a broken finger on the same hand that he had cut days earlier, but he didn’t have the luxury of worrying about it. The man reeled back a half step but stayed on his feet. His stumbling turn swung his weapon toward the doorway, and Kidd instinctively reached for it as the man’s hand opened slightly around the grip. Punching it upward and spinning it around the trigger finger, Kidd rotated the gun through vertical so that it ended – upside down – pointed at the man’s upturned chin. Kidd shoved his finger in with the soldier’s and pulled.
