Wayward Son (38 page)

Apollo shrugged. “I ain’t the merc type, man. You know that.” He paused and stared off into the darkness. “The hardest part is not saying goodbye.”

“It’s probably for the best, brother. There’s a lot of people at the base that won’t be happy…we haven’t told them what we decided yet.”

Apollo fought the urge to get misty. He sniffed back the tears and nodded at Spalding. “I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand. I just wish there was some way to turn back the clock, ya know?”

“I know. Believe me, buddy, I know.” The two stood in silence for a moment longer then Apollo turned and motioned toward the main doors of the hangar. “Come on, Sheridan’s crap is in the office in here. Probably got contact info for that Simmons cat.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Spalding fell into step with him and the two began working their way across the expanse.

A muffled shot echoed in the darkness, the flash hidden by the suppressor attached to the barrel. Apollo jerked suddenly and froze in midstep, his eyes dropping to his chest.

Spalding stopped and turned to him. “What’s wrong, buddy?” He didn’t notice the fresh blood splatter on Apollo’s tactical vest. He was covered in blood, flesh and spittle from the wolf attack earlier.

Apollo turned and stared at him blankly, his mouth opening to say something, but the words never came. A second shot hit him in the temple, dropping him where he stood.

Spalding leapt to the side, catching the big man before he hit the pavement. “Medic!” His scream was instinctive, from years in the field, as no medic had ever gone out with the squads before.

Spalding cradled Apollo as he quivered and shook, his nerves firing, causing his body to jerk. Keying his throat mic, Spalding screamed into the coms, “Stand down! Stand down! Hold fire!” He lay Apollo down gently on the ground, “Stay with me, buddy! Stay with me!” He glanced around with desperate eyes, “I need a medic over here! Man down!”

Jacobs and Lamb rushed to his side, pulling their emergency packs as they slid in beside Spalding. “What happened?”

“Gunshot!” Spalding stepped back as Lamb and Jacobs did their best to stench the flow of blood. Lamb gently turned Apollo’s head only to realize that the other side of his skull was missing. He turned shocked eyes to Spalding and shook his head. “There’s no way, Spank.”

Jacobs pressed his fingers to the big man’s neck and felt for a pulse. “I got nothing.”

Spalding slowly came to his feet and stared off toward the points where his Bravo members supposedly sat overwatch. Hatred flashed in his eyes and he ground his teeth as he tried to calculate which man had murdered his friend.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Heath Stallcup was born in Salinas, California and relocated to Tupelo, Oklahoma in his tween years. He joined the US Navy and was stationed in Charleston, SC and Bangor, WA shortly after junior college. After his second tour he attended East Central University where he obtained BS degrees in Biology and Chemistry. Heath then served ten years with the State of Oklahoma as a Compliance and Enforcement Officer while moonlighting nights and weekends with his local Sheriff's Office. He still lives in the small township of Tupelo, Oklahoma with his wife and three of his seven children. He steals time to write between household duties, going to ballgames, being a grandfather to five and being the pet of numerous animals that have taken over his home. Visit him at heathstallcup.com or Facebook.com for news of his upcoming releases.