Chapter 1

Having read the previous stories in this series will help with your understanding of the characters and action. This story picks up two weeks after the events in Zack and Melisa Reunion.

Go, Go!

Zack expected the roadblock, and it was there as soon as he made the turn. He slowed, letting off the gas as he scanned the road ahead and to the sides. A high dirt shoulder led uphill with tall pine trees on his left, more trees, and a deep ditch along the edge of the hard asphalt road to his right. A glance told him that his partner in the passenger seat, Olivia, was doing the same, scanning ahead and to her right, preparing herself. She might have even grinned, ready for action.

The roadblock was about 50 yards in front of them, one old sedan and a pickup truck blocking the two-lane road at a natural chokepoint where the road was at its narrowest. In front of them, a large truck tire blocked the right part of the road forcing Zack to steer left and another tire in the road further along would force him to slow more and steer to the right.

Three men beside the vehicles, one off to the left at the front of the old red truck and the other two to the right on the dirt shoulder. Two of them carried long guns while dressed in jeans and old military-style jackets. The third he could not tell yet, but he looked to be the leader as he stared at them from behind dark sunglasses, hands on his hips, and a sweat-stained straw cowboy hat on his head.

Zack did as he was trained, analyzed the situation, and then made quick decisions while communicating with his partner. Behind the big dark sunglasses that wrapped around and protected her eyes, Olivia was doing the same thing, looking at the obstacles blocking the road, registering the men, and communicating. She had already unzipped her gray lightweight hooded sweatshirt revealing her tight olive-colored tank top. Her breasts were small but firm, her right hand gripped the black Sig Sauer semi-automatic pistol in her lap.

“I’m going for the truck’s rear axle.” He said in a low calm voice. Calmer than he felt as his heart tried to beat its way through his chest.

The men had screwed up when setting up the roadblock. The truck was on the left, blocking half the road with its front wheels on the dirt shoulder. The beat-up-looking green four-door sedan was parked facing the rear of the truck with about a foot of daylight between them. Zack could see the opening and would aim for the rear of the truck at its axle where it was lightest.

“Sounds good, I’ve got this,” Olivia said as she turned in her seat to face the man in the cowboy hat as Zack slowed now on the right-hand side of the road.

Zack touched the buckle of his seatbelt confirming it was locked tight, he saw Olivia do the same with her left hand. Next, he adjusted the butt of the pistol tucked under his right thigh. Hopefully, he wouldn’t need it. His sunglass-protected eyes told him all he needed to know. A glance in the rearview mirror told him a fourth man carrying a scoped bolt-action rifle had stepped into the road at the spot where they made the turn so no going back.

The car windows were down. Zack’s hands were on the steering wheel, 10 and 2, eyes scanning the road ahead.

“Hola,” Olivia said to the man in the straw cowboy hat. He was older, in need of a shave, standing about four feet from the passenger window. His partner carried what looked to be an old Russian made AK-74 rifle in the low ready a few feet behind him. A piece of plywood over two old metal oil drums acted as a kind of table off to the right, further blocking the right side of the road. Tacked to the edge of the makeshift table, which was covered by half a dozen empty beer bottles, was a faded and torn red Soviet flag, a gold hammer and sickle in the upper left quadrant, that had seen better days.

Zack decided the man with the shotgun on the left about twenty feet away was not an immediate threat, nor was the man behind them on the road.

“Hola,” Cowboy hat said bending down to look in the car but keeping his distance. Zack could see the butt of a pistol tucked in his waistband under his old green fatigue jacket.

“Pistol waistband,” Zack said quietly, making sure Olivia had marked it. Not assuming.

For the moment the man and Olivia conversed in Spanish with Olivia shaking her head a couple of times.

“Be ready,” she said in a low voice. “He wants us to get out. The ‘Commander’ wants money and to search the car for contraband.”

Zack just nodded his head in agreement as he scanned the road ahead of him, letting Olivia work. Not a chance they were getting out of the car.

Olivia twisted in her seat toward Cowboy Hat pushing out her small chest attempting to distract the older man with her braless chest and pretty smile. Her pistol held tight in her right hand just below the window, out of sight.

Zack was ready. They had trained for this as soon as he hit the gas all hell would break loose.

Cowboy hat took another step toward Olivia reaching a hand for the car door. His partner grinned behind him hefting the old Russian assault rifle, threatening.

“Go, Go,” Olivia said, leaning back further and bringing the pistol up as her left hand met her right steadying the pistol now pointed out the window. Cowboy hat backpedaled in his boots, his right hand reaching for the gun in his waistband.

Zack hit the gas. But unlike the movies, he had about 10 feet to go until he hit the truck and didn’t need much speed, just about 15 mph. Once he was through the kill zone, he would punch it.

He heard the report of Olivia’s pistol, crack, crack, as their sedan shot forward.

More cracks as her pistol fired.

Off to his left shotgun guy raised his weapon from his hip and Zack saw the flash as he fired. By then Zack had hit the truck with the left side front of his car and was pushing through his right foot on the accelerator. The truck spun out of the way as Zack created space to pass around the green car.

Olivia was yelling as she turned, continuing to fire.

“Both are down,” she yelled. “Go, go!”

Zack glanced behind him at the man with the shotgun who was still up but running across the road to his friends and no longer interested in them.

He slowed as he took a turn to the left. His heart was racing as he let off the gas. Zack looked at Olivia, she was smiling and raised her left hand in the air. He high fived her with his right, the smile on his face matching hers.

“End Ex, End Ex!” the voice over a small speaker in the dash said. “Great job you two. Come on in, while we reset for the next team.”

Zack gave a thumbs up, that he knew would be seen by the in-car cameras that captured every move and sound they made.

“Zack, they never even got a shot off, fucking aye,” Olivia said uncharacteristically cussing in her excitement.

“You were great, and that tank top trick was a nice touch,” he said.

He turned left again this time on a dirt road until he came to a double-wide trailer that served as the command center/office for the tactical vehicle course.

Behind him, he knew Heidi and Eva were paired up and ready to go. Followed by his parents Brock and Julia for the final run of the weekend for their group. The roadblock scenario was the final exam for the weekend of tactical training.

Each would get a slightly different scenario.

A few days ago, his dad had announced they were having a family weekend away and to cancel all weekend plans. As COO of Pegasus Group, Brock needed to give final approval to a new personal security course that he hoped to soon offer to employees and their families. Olivia was invited to round out their team to six; over the summer she was made to feel a part of the family and was a pretty good hand with a pistol now. There were also two other groups of six from Pegasus out in the North Carolina woods this weekend trying out the training. The men Olivia had ‘shot’ with the paint-filled Simunitions were retired ‘operators’ and friends of his dad and grandpa as far as he could tell from the lively conversations over the last day and a half.

Zack parked the old car next to other newer SUVs and trucks in front of the office. Stepping out of the car he holstered his modified Sig Sauer pistol in a hip holster under his coat. Out of respect, he tossed a salute at the American flag flying from a flagpole near the steps.

“Thanks, Zack,” Olivia said as she came around the front of the car, holstering her pistol on her hip. “Today is in the running for the best date ever,” she said followed by a big smile before taking a deep breath and steadying herself.

She looked flush and happy with her sweatshirt still unzipped letting him see the hard nipples of her breasts imprinting on the thin fabric of the tank top that ended just above her tan belly button. Her dark hair was in a tight ponytail hanging mid-back and like him, she wore blue jeans and hiking shoes. Instead of a sweatshirt, Zack wore an old hunting jacket he had borrowed from the gun range; the better to get shot with and bore the blue and red marks of his learning curve this weekend.

Olivia took off her sunglasses which were just fancy shooter eye protection, and he did the same. Without much thought, he leaned in for a kiss. She wet her dry lips with the tip of her tongue before she gave him a nice kiss.

After a few seconds, they broke from the kiss and headed up the wood steps to review their work and see the next runs. Kissing after a gunfight was the best! Inside he knew they would be able to watch the other teams do their runs captured on HD video camera feeds and a drone loitering overhead.

He took one look back at her sweatshirt, “You going to zip up?”

“Na, I’m good, feeling a little warm,” she said with a grin. For the time being not bothered by her sexed-up appearance.

Wait until the cold air-conditioned air in the office hits those nipples and sweaty skin, Zack thought.

Zack opened the door stepping inside, the first thing he saw was a big wall-mounted video monitor. On the screen, the next sedan with his sister behind the wheel and Eva in the passenger seat sat idling at the start line. On the split-screen views, they could see the instructors and role players were finishing up resetting the roadblock scenario. Changing the position of the car and truck and repositioning themselves, presenting a new look for the next team.

Olivia took a couple of cold sports drinks from a small refrigerator, handing him one, as they took a seat on a bench behind the big monitors staying out of the way of the technicians and instructors running the course.

Zack smiled to himself, seriously, this was way better than playing Dungeons & Dragons with his friends on a Sunday afternoon.

Saturday Night- The Previous Day

It was after 8 pm by the time they all got back to the Marriott Residence Inn they were calling home for the weekend on the outskirts of Asheville, NC.

They were all sharing a spacious suite with two queen-sized beds. His dad had insisted they all stay together, something about team building and his mom had not argued the point. That meant there was a line for the bathroom and shower. Guess his dad had not thought about that, sharing a room with four women. But on the plus side were the sleeping arrangements and who he got to sleep with. Last night he had slept with Olivia and Heidi, none of them wore their pajamas to bed.

Zack took a seat on the room’s small couch and picked up the TV remote as he kicked off his hiking shoes while watching Eva and Heidi already naked and heading into the shower together. His dad was on a call and stepped into the hallway, while his mom lay back on the bed with her eyes closed as she slowly unbuttoned her dirty tactical pants and pushed them down her hips. Olivia had gone to the toilet. Her dirty clothes were in a pile at the foot of their bed.

Training had gone until 5 when the lead instructor let them know they were done for the day. He directed them to a large outdoor deck that held a BBQ area, a small bar, and picnic tables behind the impressive multilevel concrete and steel building that was the training facility’s headquarters and armory. It looked like an old-school European ‘castle keep’ from the Middle Ages designed for a last stand while still blending into the mountains behind them.

The 18 ‘trainees’ were all from Pegasus Group’s main office in Tennessee or satellite office in North Carolina. They jumped at the opportunity to socialize while they ate an excellent North Carolina meal of ribs and chicken prepared by the staff on the large outdoor grill. Their instructors joined them for dinner mixing in with the students at the tables. Many a ‘war story’ capturing the real-world experiences of their instructors was shared with the students over drinks and good food.

Zack had been impressed by the quiet competent older guy who sat down next to him and Olivia with a plate of ribs and a beer. Mark was retired from the Army having served in its elite special operations units for decades, so Zack had learned. Over ribs, soft drinks, and beer Mark had listened with few interruptions to Zack talk about his own experiences with violence. Olivia sat by his side listening to him talk about the 2028 war in Poland and his recent experience in Israel being under rocket and drone attack.

Returning with three bottles of beer, Mark turned his attention to Olivia. Despite not having a driver’s license and having only recently started to learn to shoot, she had been impressive on the tactical vehicle course and later at the gun range. As the three drank Mark asked Olivia about her family. Zack watched Mark, he was smooth as he changed the topic of the conversation, bringing the beer, and setting the stage for his questions.

Olivia played with her bottle for a moment looking at the setting sun off to the west. Zack had his eye on her too. He did not know much about her family’s history either. Zack knew her dad died when she was little leaving her mom a widow who did her best to support Olivia and her sister. He had gotten to know Olivia because of Hannah and of course, Brothel Night had brought them even closer. Followed by a summer of Friday night dates.

She organized her thoughts and began, “My heritage is mostly Cuban at least that is what my mom told my sister and me.” she took a drink of beer and looked at Mark, “My great-grandfather came to the United States from Cuba in the fifties before Castro ruined the place. Mom told us he needed a job, so he joined the Navy for a couple of years before settling in South Florida.”

Zack took a drink while watching her exchange with Mark. Mark just nodded, pulled out his device, set it on the table, and spun it so Olivia could see the image on the screen. A black and white photo is all Zack could see.

“Is that your great-grandfather?” Mark asked in a friendly, curious manner as his big finger touched the screen pointing at the photo.

Zack was pretty sure Mark already knew the answer. Zack wanted to see the photo but waited. Olivia touched the screen zooming in and out. She swiped left to another and stopped.

“Yes, that looks like the pictures I’ve seen of him. I was really little, and he was quite old when I last saw him, years ago.” She continued to play with her bottle, “where did you get that, he looks different and who are those men with him?” she asked Mark.

Mark pushed the device over to Zack.

“We do background checks on everyone coming here. Even you, a vouched for guest of Brock’s.”

Zack looked at the first picture. A group of smiling, serious-looking men in camouflage military fatigues holding various weapons as they posed for the camera. M1 and M2 carbines, Garand rifles, pistols on their hips, and a .30 Browning machine gun on a tripod at their feet. The background looked to be a jungle setting. He didn’t know who he was looking for. He swiped to the next photo a black and white, probably from an ID card, of a smiling man, tanned, good-looking, wearing an open-collared shirt. But no name. He swiped back to the group photo thinking he saw the same man, holding a carbine, the dungaree cap on his head pushed back, smiling like the rest of the group.