Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Fighting for Honor (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Jesse Jacobson

Author:Jesse Jacobson [Jacobson, Jesse]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kindle Worlds
Published: 2017-06-01T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Trevor found the south door leading to the parking lot. The crowd had begun to dissipate. The roar of automobile, truck and motorcycle engines firing up all around him was nearly deafening. He saw no black Ford truck, but did see a long line of vehicles slowly making their way to the exit. Barkley could still be inside the compound, Trevor thought.

He approached a large biker just mounting his Harley Davidson. The woman with him was already seated. The biker was muscular and shirtless, wearing only a blue jean vest. His tanned skin was covered in tattoos. Sunglasses were positioned on top of his head. His jet-black hair was oily and back.

“I need to borrow your bike,” Trevor said to the biker in a serious but monotone voice.

The biker turned and looked at his rider, a large-breasted, plus-sized woman with teased out blonde hair. Her tank top was two sizes too small; her tattoo covered breasts were spilling out of it. She took a long drag from a cigar, blowing the smoke in Trevor’s direction. The biker chuckled, and turned back to Trevor.

“You forgot the magic word,” he said.

“Please,” Trevor replied.

“Piss off!” the biker barked.

“It’s not a request,” Trevor said, glaring at the biker. “Look, I’d rather not embarrass you in front of your woman, but I need to borrow your bike. I’ll bring it back--- you know--- in a while--- hopefully.”

“Listen, asshole,” the biker began, pointing his finger at Trevor’s chest. “Back the fu…”

Trevor cut the biker off mid-sentence with a blow to the Adam’s apple. The biker grabbed his neck as Trevor pulled him off the Harley by the head of his hair. The Navy SEAL flashed the woman an icy stare, “Off,” he said. “Now.”

The woman looked at her boyfriend, now writhing on the ground holding his own neck. Her eyes widened in fear. She quickly dismounted. Trevor hopped on the bike and fired up the engine. He looked down at biker, still writhing in pain.

Two more bikers who had witnessed the incident approached Trevor. He stopped them in their tracks with an icy stare. One of the men looked at the SEAL, then at the fallen biker. Trevor shook his head at them. Both men backed away slowly. Trevor looked down at the fallen man.

“Try to relax,” he said. “I didn’t hit you that hard. You’ll be good as new in fifteen minutes… maybe thirty. With any luck, I’ll be back within an hour. If not, well… sorry.”

Trevor revved the engine and hit the gas, fishtailing before heading out. He began to systematically weave through the cars, trucks and motorcycles, looking for Barkley’s truck. He drove along the long line of cars and trucks moving at a stop-and-go crawl, waiting to leave the premises. He was just about to give up when he saw the black Ford making its way through the exit, turning right. The right turn seemed odd. The only road leading back to town was to the left.

Trevor revved the engine of

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