Jean Broody vs. Bradley Jackson: When suppressed desires explode…
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Lt. Bradley Jackson crouched low, aimed his sleek TrackingPoint bolt-action rifle at a group of fierce-looking, gun-wielding men, and then fired in rapid succession. Their screams of pain brought a smirk to Bradley's mouth. Those crooks had no idea who they were up against.
Bradley was a member of the Arrowheads, a Classified Black OPs task force division of the FBI, whose members were drawn from elite Navy Seal teams for special operations, and then released to join their own teams afterward. Its operations were unknown to many inside the organization. It was headed by a Navy Admiral. The Arrowheads were usually called upon whenever there were specific dangerous operations that were usually almost suicidal in description. They were the best of the best. What was different about Bradley's current mission, however, was that it wasn't authorized. Lt. Bradley Jackson was working on his own without any authorization from his Admiral or the knowledge of anyone in his squad. The plan to go solo and find some well-needed answers had been hatched by Bradley on his last mission.
On Bradley's last mission, which had been headed by him since his immediate supervisor hadn't been available, the Arrowheads had lost two of their men. They'd been investigating an underground black market gun sale. Much as losing his colleagues had been a big blow, Bradley had been even more confused because it was obvious they'd been betrayed from the inside. He had, therefore, made it his personal goal to find out who was behind their failed mission. Someone had to pay. In his quest to know the truth, the SEAL had uncovered a deadly secret that had shocked him to the bone. A very high-ranking military person...a three-star general, was the brain behind the underground, black market gun sale. In fact, those guns were stolen from the state and sold illegally.
Immediately he'd uncovered that deadly information, Bradley knew he had to act fast and alone. It was important that he acted alone because apart from the fact that he didn't know who to trust, people that he loved and respected could lose their lives if he involved them. One thing was very clear to Bradley, however. If he wanted to stay alive, he couldn't include that information in his report because he'd be dead immediately he filed that report. He knew that the only way to expose such a high-ranking official would be to get some proof. Till he got proof that could put the corrupt general away, that illegal operation would continue to grow from strength to strength. He also knew that immediately he began to dig for proof, he was a dead man...unless of course, he was able to outsmart and outplay the enemy. In spite of the danger, he knew he'd be in if he went ahead with his plan to expose the general and his syndicate, Bradley was determined to do it because not only did he detest corrupt officials, he also owed it to his dead colleagues.
Bradley had been relentless in his search for proof that could put the general and whoever he was working with, away. After working assiduously for weeks, his diligence had paid off. He finally knew exactly where to find that proof...a shed on a large estate that belonged to General Christopher Grupert. To say Bradley was surprised he'd been able to get that far without getting killed, would be an understatement. The person he was seeking to expose was a three-star general for fuck's sake. The danger he was in could therefore not be overemphasized. But then, Bradley was used to the suicidal nature of his job. After all, he was an Arrowhead.
He'd gotten onto the General's compound with cheeky ease. Everything had been going on smoothly till he'd gotten a distress call from one of the General's accomplices, who he'd blackmailed into pointing him in the right direction. General Grupert was onto him. Even as the man spoke, Bradley had heard a gunshot...then silence. But he could have bet his last cent the bad guys didn't know who he was. They only knew that someone was on their tail. He'd been very careful...at least he thought he'd been. Busted or not, however, Bradley had been determined to finish what he'd started. He'd quickly broken into the shed and grabbed all the documents he needed to prove his case. By the time he heard the first gunshot, the evidence was strapped securely to his back. And that familiar excitement that never ceased to pulse through his veins whenever an opportunity to dispose of an enemy presented itself, was causing through him in spades.
Bradley wasted no time incapacitating the first sixteen armed men who came close to the shed. He didn't have to be a genius to know that they were all military guys. They looked experienced and angry enough. What they obviously didn't know was that an Arrowhead on a mission was a beast. The general's men didn't stand a chance. Each man received a nice gun wound on the hand wielding their gun. If any of the groaning men was strong enough to grab his gun with the other hand, that hand got shot as well. Much as Bradley knew that most of those guys were in on the general's shady deals, he also considered the possibility that some of them might only be following orders. He, therefore, made it a point not to shoot to kill. The wounds would also make it very easy to identify all those military guys who were trying to kill him. After all, no one could possibly hide a gunshot wound to the hand.
"You better surrender, whoever you are." Bradley heard someone bellow in a threatening voice. "We just want to talk. Hey, it's obvious you are a skilled marksman. What are you? A marine? SEAL? A mercenary? Vigilante? Come on, let's talk." The voice had become coaxing. Bradley had to stop himself from bursting into laughter. "We think there's been a misunderstanding. We won't harm you. We just want to talk."
Yeah right, Bradley thought with amusement as he watched a new set of armed guys converging on where he was crouching. The new set was not only armed with very sophisticated guns but was also in full-body armours. He let go of the rifle so that it hung at his side, and then drew out two FN Five-seven pistols which were famed for its ability to penetrate many types of body armour and could fire a hundred rounds per minute. It was supposed to be so powerful, in fact, that it was usually available to only military guys who handled special assignments. Well...if an Arrowhead's assignment wasn't special, then what other assignment was?
"Come to papa, bitches." Bradley muttered as he stood up and began to pick off the men, one after the other.
Their protective gear definitely didn't shield them from Bradley's quick-action pistols. Even as he fired, he inched towards the edge of the property. He knew he had to act smart or get killed. Well, Lt. Bradley Jackson didn't plan on getting killed. Definitely not before he exposed the evil within the military that was bound to grow like a cancer if it wasn't weeded out. Fucking up was definitely not an option.