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Nolan Clay was convicted of murder and dishonorably discharged from his marksman position in the Navy SEALs all in one night...for a crime he didn't commit. After spending ten years in prison, all Nolan wants to do is live a...
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***This is an edited chapter! I'm taking the story in a bit of a different direction, but needed to remedy these last few chapters***
Grace was pacing back and forth across the waxed tile floors. As expected, the airport had temporarily canceled all flights due to the terrorist attack nearby.
It had almost been two hours since she, Jim, and Collin had left the small town and it was already eleven o'clock in the morning.
Where was Nolan?
"Hey, Grace."
Grace turned to see Collin carrying a packaged sandwich from a kiosk nearby. He tossed it to her and gestured towards a seat in the gate area of their plane. "I figured we could have a bit to eat while Jim's talking to his wife."
Grace took the sandwich with a forced smile and sat down. She fingered the plastic wrap distractedly.
"He'll be here soon," Collin said, opening a water bottle.
"I hope so," Grace murmured, and then sighed, "He basically gave himself up to those guys. The best we can hope for is that he was captured."
"Nah, that man could outsmart a fox."
Grace cast a nervous glance at the airport's entrance. "I hope you're right."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nolan limped to an empty car parked in front of an old honey stand on the side of the road.
He collapsed on the grey hood with a groan and looked down at his chest. A bullet had injected itself below his shoulder, just above the heart.
He pressed a rag against it again and clamored into the car. Slowly, he hotwired it to life and started the engine, gritting his teeth as he made his way down the road again. The airport was only ten minutes away, he remembered Grace saying.
That was good.
He should have enough blood to make it there.
Nolan groaned again and glanced at the medical bag he'd found in an eye clinic. He'd deal with that later once he had some distance between him and the terrorists.
His mind flashed back to half an hour ago. He knew he wouldn't make it far if he tried to bolt out of the city, so he decided to do what he did best.
He found a good position in an apartment building and began picking off men as they came near.
There were two truckloads of soldiers and Nolan suspected about twenty men in total. It made a formidable squad, enough to overrun a town, but since Nolan was alone, he was harder to target. The first ten minutes of holding his position was easy since it took a while for the terrorists down below to locate where his shots were coming from.
