Trident's First Gleaming by Stephen Templin

Author:Stephen Templin [Templin, Stephen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Crime, Thriller & Suspense, Sea Adventures, War & Military, Genre Fiction, War, Men's Adventure, Thriller, Travel
ISBN: 1500538639
Amazon: B00LA95A0A
Publisher: Stephen Templin
Published: 2014-09-08T23:00:00+00:00

19

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All over the fence now, Chris led them across the compound in search of the TOC. Car tires burned like misshapen donuts from Hell, long, flaming tongues tasting the paint of the vehicles as smoky flames gutted the interiors, casting impish shadows in the parking lot. Beyond the broken windows of the main building, the flaming interior raged from hot white in the center to burning yellow, fiery orange, and caldron red before fading into the black abyss of night. Except for the fires, the compound was eerily quiet. Chris led them across the compound in search of the TOC.

He stopped in front of the steel door of a small building that was separated from the others and hadn’t been burned—most likely the TOC. Sonny tried his master key, but it didn’t work. He kicked the door under the doorknob and reinforced lock. The door opened a crack. Sonny stepped to the side, and Chris took a kick at it. With a loud thud, the door budged open more, but it was still locked. “My turn,” Hannah said. When her kick struck the steel, it sounded like thunder. The door flew open, taking it off one of the hinges. It dangled on the remaining hinge like scrap metal. Chris had known she had it in her; even so, it was heart-juddering to behold. He held back a chuckle as Sonny stood slack-jawed, staring at her. Hannah walked through the door as if she’d done nothing special.

“United States Government!” she shouted when inside. “We’re here to help!”

“Damn, she’s hot,” Sonny said.

The trio proceeded through the building methodically clearing their way with their AKs. In one room, video of the compound streamed live on a panel of monitors. Beyond the surveillance room, they reached the armory, where Chris and Hannah found their weapons and ammo.

Chris was infectiously upbeat to reunite with his old friends: HK416 and Glock 19. Feelings of power and safety rushed through him once again, that spiritual connection energizing him. He took care of his weapons, and they took care of him. His firearms instructor, Ron Hickok, had once confided that he had a similar feeling for his firearms, and he’d said it was a necessary bond to achieve a level of shooting that transcended the capability of the individual and the weapon as separate entities.

Next to his weapon, he found his lighter among other items. He didn’t smoke, but he carried the lighter as a memento from darker days and a survival tool.

Chris liberated his ammo along with extra from the diplomatic security’s cache. Hannah did likewise. Sonny inspected an M4 rifle and compact .45 pistol. He took them and laid down his AK with a look of scorn.

“Commie piece of shit, anyway,” he grumbled.

They grabbed assorted grenades, breaching explosives, holsters, rifle slings, backpacks, energy gels, and more. Hannah found the most important pieces of gear—the two GPS trackers. She kept hers and tossed Chris the one he’d taken from Jim Bob and Victor. On a nearby table, they also located Jim Bob’s laptop and Victor’s cell phone.

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