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“May those you’ve harmed find solace in your death.” I stare into Artemus’s eyes as the sudden realization of what’s going to happen hits him.
“Do you think killing me will make a difference? There will always be others like me. You can’t stop it.”
“Maybe not, but I can damn well start with you.” I stand before him, the embodiment of justice and vengeance, the hand that will deliver the final blow. There’s no room in my heart for compassion or forgiveness.
As Artemus’s voice fades into desperate pleas, I block out his words and squeeze the trigger.
“Nooooo!” His mother leaps in front of him as the gunshot shatters the silence. She crumples as the bullet pierces her heart.Shit! Right behind her, Artemus falls; the bullet completing its deadly path. It punches through his heart as well.
I feel bad for the mother, but not Artemus. With his life extinguished, his reign of terror is gone. Maybe it’s good his mother is dead. With her evil disposition, she probably would’ve carried on her son’s despicable trade. If it was everhisto begin with.
Somehow, my gut says she was always the one in charge.
The room fills with a profound quiet. It’s a moment of victory I will never celebrate because it comes at a price—a reminder of the darkness that exists in the world.
Are my actions justified?
Many would agree, but do I want that kind of power?
The truth is, I don’t. I’m happy to be the pointy tip of the spear. I’m happy to be the muscle that puts our enemies down. What I’m not happy with is being judge, jury, and executioner. I don’t want the weight of that burden.
As I stand here, surrounded by my Bravo brothers, I can’t help but feel a profound sense of closure. The chase is over. Artemus is gone. And though the echoes of his actions may linger in his victims, they can take solace in the knowledge justice was served.
I’m the one who will carry that black mark upon my soul. All I can hope for is when the time comes, and the weight of my actions are measured, that my actions are justified.
“Command, Bravo-One.” Brady’s voice sounds steady through the comm-link.
“Go ahead, Bravo-One.”
“Mission complete. What are our instructions?”
“Head to exfil.” CJ’s voice sounds over the comms. “Pickup team is inbound.”
“Copy that.” Brady thumps me on the back. “You good?”
I look at Artemus’s body and lift my weapon to fire a shot between his eyes.
“I’m good.”
I rejoin my Bravo team brothers, a sense of unified purpose filling the air. We stand together, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead, committed to protecting the innocent and doing whatever it takes to rescue them.
But all I care about is getting back to Barbi and holding her in my arms.
THIRTY-FIVE
Alec
As the rescuessettle into their seats, finding solace and safety in the Guardian’s private plane, I take a moment to catch my breath. Barbi, my guiding light through the darkness, rushes to my side.
“We made it.” Barbi’s voice is filled with a mixture of relief and exhilaration.
“All I care about is holding you in my arms.” I grip her tightly, savoring the warmth of her presence, and the knowledge she’s finally safe.
“I can’t believe we rescued so many.” She watches those we rescued settle into their seats, guided by Guardians and medical team members.
I can’t help but feel a surge of gratitude for the organization that is Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists. We not only rescue those who’ve been taken, but we provide a safe haven for those who endured unimaginable suffering. We do what we can to help them heal and give them the resources they need to rebuild their lives.
But it’s the strength of the survivors that truly amazes me. Then, I notice the absence of one person in particular.