Brothers In Blood: For Country

From the Slopes

Adam Banna was flying down the slopes, sending powder up in a high rooster tail behind him. A double black diamond and a snowboard. ahh, sweet bliss. He attacked the jumps, sailing over the others who were clinging to the cold slopes. he whooped when he landed, gliding smoothly down the mountain. The sun was setting, and the runs would be closing up soon. He wanted to get one more good one in before the day was done.
He got in line for the ski lift back up to the top. The guy next to him was dressed in a sleek white camouflage suit, with odd looking skis. The man studied Banna for a moment. “Does the name Scud mean anything to you, Mister Banna?”
Scud nearly fell off the lift. No one outside of the Tribe called him Scud or even knew about the nickname. This dude wasn’t any of the boys, even in a disguise. “What if it does, bub?” Scud took the offensive. He wanted to know who this guy was before he answered any questions. The man just sat there, staring off into the trees. In his hand was a piece of paper, with Scud’s name on it. Glancing behind him, Scud took the note. It took a second to sink in.
‘Adam Banna, the Secretary General of the United Nations has decided to extend the hand of friendship to you in order to gain your help. he is currently obtaining the aid of John Lynch, your former commanding officer. This appointment will bring you rewards and power beyond your greatest dreams. Gregory Dickerson has refused our offer, but we intend to procure all of your former unit to help us in our mission. Give your answer to the man before you.’
It was then that Scud noticed the ankle holster, pushing out the fabric of the man’s camo pants. Then, he looked down from his perch into the trees passing below. He slid from the seat and plunged into the forest. Overhead, he heard a cry of surprise and a growl. Seconds later, the UN operative dropped to the slope behind him. They zipped through the trees, Scud dodging bushes and bullets. “If GD don’t want to join up, bub, I never will!” He yelled behind him. “You sleaze bags ’ll never get Jack neither. Ol’ Jack ’ll show your boss-” Hot lead whizzed past his neck. “-that blue-blooded American boys never give in on their country. And for another thing-” Another whined by his ear. “-None of the other boys’ll fold!”
“That’s what you think!” The gunman swished through the brush, balanced delicately on his skis. “One of your tribe has agreed to our terms!”
Scud swung his board into an interception course. He hit the gunman while he was still reloading. “You don’t ever accuse one of my brothers of betraying his country.” They fell in a tangle of arms and legs. The man jabbed something into Scud’s leg, but it fell away. When they stopped, the man’s neck was broken, his head laying in the snow at an odd angle. Scud buried the operative and hurried on back down. The sun had just set when he heard the beat of a helicopter buzzing the mountain. he looked behind him and wished he didn’t. It was a small, two-blade job, with machine gunners hanging out of both sides. Scud crouched and ducked, trying to stay ahead of the bullets.
The chopper bore down on him, and he braced for the impact. Red exploded all around him, bathing his face and body. The smell was overpowering, the popping noise and the thuds as they hit his body confirmed his worst fears. He fell to the ground, waiting for the blackness of death to take him away, but it never came. The chopper landed a hundred feet away, and the two gunmen got out and walked over to him. Then, he recognized the guns they had; paintball guns.
“Hey, Snowwalker, what’s up?” The heavier of the two pulled off his helmet and shook out his hair. Joseph Michael, known as Mean Joe to the men in the Tribe, picked Scud up out of the snow. Scud brushed the snow off his suit, then rolled around in it, trying to get the red paint off.
“Hey yourself, Joe,” He said while crushing Joe’s ribs in the rough bearhug that was their traditional greeting. “Dude, you wouldn’t believe what just happened.” he went on to relate the story of the past two hours. Joe listened intently, but he didn’t seem that surprised by the news.
“yeah,” Joe said, “I got a visit from the Feds the other day, askin’ me if I would lead some kind of secret military op. Told’ em I’d only work with the Tribe, and they said they’d get back to me. Sounds to me like there might be a connection.” he looked back at the chopper. “Look, Scud, I’ve got some stuff I gotta finish up before I go to GD’s. Whip’s waiting for you at the entrance, and he’ll give you a ride out. I’ll be there in a few days.” He extended his hand. “See you then, brotha.” Scud gripped his hand, then the two parted ways.