As the pistol slipped from his companion’s shaky grip, Taz’s heart seemed to stop. Before he could revive Kurtz, he saw the barrel of a rifle peering down at him. A curse flew from his lips as he glared up at the Ultranationalists who had found them. So much for fighting their way out of this one. They would be held captive and tortured, they would be tortured on the spot and killed, or they would be killed right away. Whatever the outcome, Taz was not going to go out without taking some of these bastards with him.
He lowered his pistol to the ground and held his hands up slowly. Adrenaline raced through his veins but he maintained a collected composure on the outside. His senses were heightened and he wanted nothing more than to attack the enemy.
“Поиск них,” came the order. Four Ultranationalists grabbed both him and Kurtz and roughly hauled them out into the open. Kurtz looked completely unconscious; his limp body was thrown down beside him and Taz’s anger rose even more. “Fuckin’ assholes, watch it!” he growled at them. This outburst earned him a punch in the gut.
He clenched his jaw as his gear was wrenched from him and ripped from his holsters and belt. It didn’t matter to him; he could still take these guys on with his bare hands. And so he waited as he was searched.
The Ultranationalists’ final mistake was when one of them reached into Taz’s jacket. He could feel the enemy’s hands searching for another weapon. What the man found was Taz’s weak spot. And when Taz’s weak spot was discovered, he would explode like the tazmanian devil he was named after. The Russian’s fingers closed on a thin plastic pouch. Taz stiffened and held his breath. The enemy pulled the pouch out slowly, looking at its contents curiously. It was a picture of Ava and Taz on one of their camping trips in Yosemite. Her hands were thrown around Taz’s neck as she hugged him from behind. Both of them were laughing, happy, and carefree. The memory was caught forever in the thin, slightly worn photograph. It always gave Taz strength on missions.
The sight of the Ultranationalist invading his privacy in such a way was the last straw. Taz snapped. He barreled into the enemy like a rhino and rammed the man’s own tactical knife into his stomach. The Russian soldier looked at Taz in surprise and pain as the life gurgled out of him. The other enemies screamed at him in Russian, their words echoing everywhere through the trees. He used the dead soldier as a shield while the others fired on him. Without thinking how foolish this was, he ran forward at the closest enemy with the body still held up before him. He shoved the body at the soldier and grappled with him for the rifle he held. Taz kicked the Ultranationalist’s legs out from under him, wrenching the rifle away and ramming the butt of it into the soldier’s skull. With a shout of rage, he fired upon the others. Three bullets caught him simultaneously in his right arm, shoulder, and thigh. The adrenaline which still coursed through him powered him through the initial pain.
Once he stopped seeing red and regained his head, one thought returned to mind. He had to get Kurtz out of there. Just as he was about to move, an arm wrapped itself around his neck, beginning to choke him. Taz reached back over his head to grasp the enemy from behind. As he did so, he rocked forward and used his momentum to flip the enemy forward. The Ultranationalist crashed to the ground and Taz kicked him heavily on the side of the head.
An ominous click sounded in the sudden silence. A gun had just been cocked. Taz stood immobile over his latest victim.
“One move and you die,” the Ultranationalist spoke in a low voice. Taz’s mind reeled as he began coming up with a plan. He didn’t need to, though.
“Same goes for you, laddie,” a familiar Scottish voice sounded, the speaker remaining out of Taz’s sight.
Russian curses flew around, and several more weapons were cocked as the Ultranationalists faced their new enemies.
“You bastards picked the wrong team to chase,” Soap stated. “Now!” he shouted.
Every member of the 141 moved all at once. Taz spun around to face his captor and ducked to the side just as the gun went off right by his injured ear. Sound faded away once more, but he did not slow down as he knocked the gun out of the Ultranationalist’s hand and turned it on him. He fired and took down another enemy who was about to attack Soap with an RPG. The RPG screamed upward over everyone’s heads and exploded against the side of a rock face, showering shards of rock on them all. Taz dove over Kurtz, shielding the lieutenant from the explosion.
“C’mon, we gotta get him out of here!” Taz yelled out. He saw the plastic pouch with the photo in it lying on the ground and quickly slipped it into his pocket as he gathered the rest of his and Kurtz’s gear.
Everything became a blur as Taz’s own injuries began to grate on him. He and Soap pulled Kurtz up, slinging one of Kurtz’s arms around either of their shoulders. The gauze pieces over each of his wounds were all darkened with blood. Time was running out for them all.
“Shite, they’ve brought back-up! Double-time it! We! Are! Leaving!” Soap shouted out to the 141 soldiers. He and Taz moved quickly with Kurtz between them. Taz shook his head, every sound coming in and out of focus and making him feel dizzy. He couldn’t stop now; he owed it to Kurtz to get him to safety. They had come this far and he was not about to give up.
The helicopter landing in the clearing was like an angel descending from the heavens. They loaded every team member in and took off while being fired upon by the Ultranationalists.
“These fuckers just don’t give up,” Taz muttered. It didn’t matter; they flew out of reach and were racing back to base in no time.
Taz remained at Kurtz’s side as the medics worked on him. “You’re gonna be okay, man. What’d I tell you? You’re not gonna die today, Kurtz. Not on my watch,” he called out to the lieutenant as he gripped his hand. He felt the pressure which Kurtz maintained on his hand and he knew the soldier would be just fine. Taz finally allowed himself to smile. No one on the team had died. Sure, he and Kurtz were pretty banged up to say the least, but they were alive. Just another day at the office.
