Chapter 12 - THE TRAP IS SET
The clock on the wall of the abandoned military armory at the edge of Fort Meade ticked steadily toward 11:00 PM. The building was dark, hollow, and filled with old wooden crates and dust-covered military vehicles.
Nate stood in the center of the dark floor, wearing his combat gear, a single tactical light illuminating his immediate surroundings. He had deliberately leaked his location through an unencrypted radio transmission two hours prior, knowing Vance was monitoring local military frequencies.
Footsteps echoed softly from the upper catwalk floor.
"You always were too brave for your own good, Walker," Colonel Vance's raspy voice echoed from the darkness overhead.
Vance stepped into the light on the high metal catwalk, holding a high-caliber sniper rifle aimed directly at Nate's chest. Vance looked wild, unkempt, his uniform torn and filthy, his eyes burning with maniacal hatred.
"You ruined everything," Vance hissed down at Nate. "Thirty years of military service, a multi-million dollar empire... destroyed because a low-grade sergeant couldn't let one dead soldier go."
"Daniel wasn't just a soldier," Nate said calmly, keeping his hands visible at his sides. "He was a better officer than you could ever dream of being. You betrayed your country, Vance. You betrayed your oath."
"Country?" Vance laughed crazily. "Patriotism is a story we tell fools so they die in foreign dirt while men like me run the world! And now, I’m going to kill you, then I’m going to find Major Carter's little girl and make sure his bloodline ends forever!"
Nate's eyes turned to ice. "You're not finding anyone, Arthur."
Nate raised his left hand, flashing Daniel's titanium wedding ring under the light. "Daniel always told me... when an enemy high-value target takes the high ground, you don't look up."
Vance frowned in confusion. "What?"
"YOU LOOK DOWN!" Nate roared.
Nate threw himself behind a heavy steel storage crate just as three hidden sniper shots from Federal Marshals stationed on the roof shattered the glass windows above, striking Vance in the shoulder and leg.
Vance screamed in pain, dropping his rifle, falling heavily onto the metal catwalk floor.
Federal Marshals flooded into the armory from every exit with high-powered flashlights and tactical gear, surrounding the catwalk.
"DO NOT MOVE! HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!" barked the Tactical Team Leader.
Vance lay on his back, gasping for breath, bleeding heavily, as marshals secured him in iron restraints.
Nate stepped out from behind the steel crate, walking slowly up the catwalk stairs until he stood over the defeated colonel.
Nate knelt down, looking into Vance's terrified eyes. He reached down and cleanly removed the Colonel rank insignia from Vance's bloodied collar.
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"Major Daniel Carter sends his regards," Nate whispered coldly.
***
