***FLASHBACK***

"SOMEONE CALL DOWN AIR SUPPORT!!!" one of his men shouted.

"THEY'RE ON THE WAY!!!" someone else shouted back.

"Shit, Sarge! We might not make it out of this one!"

Jaxson looked to his left, where his friend was, to see that a bullet had ripped through his face and another had gone through his throat, killing him almost instantly.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Intelligence has said that it would be easy in and easy out. F**king idiots. Military intelligence was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. Now his men were paying the price for that stupidity.

If he made it back, he promised himself that he would choke the ever-loving sh*t out of that asshole that put them in this situation.

The mission was supposed to be to go in and capture the head of the local terrorist cell. A big guy, high up in their hierarchy. A general. No problem. His unit did stuff like this all the time. Dirty little jobs that needed a small, specialized group that moved easily through a town, city, or even a secluded village.

The intel had been completely wrong from the start. There was supposed to be only the target, a few soldiers, no more than ten, a cook and some animals and one vehicle.

It didn't go down that way. This was a small fortress with gun towers for security, thick mud walls, and at least fifty men waiting on them. They had actually known they were coming. This high in the mountains in the Middle East, technology still reigned supreme and they had found a way to locate them. Jaxson wasn't sure how, but the more he thought about it, the more certain he was that the little desk jockey CIA analyst that had briefed them was going to die if and when he made it back.

A 12 man unit decimated because of bad intel. He and the corporal on the other side of him were all that was left. Jaxson was fuming! His men! His friends! His responsibility! These men had wives, children, families! It was his job to keep them alive, and he failed.

Overhead, the sound of a helicopter gunship firing on its target could be heard. It didn't take long for it to get quiet. The gunship had cleared the area to be able to land.

Since the target and enemies had been killed, Jaxson stood to his full height of 6'5 and took out his combat knife and cut the extra dog tags off of his men. Ten men. Ten friends. Gone. After gathering the dog tags of his fallen brothers, he began to help load their bodies into the helicopter to take back to the staging area. From there they would be taken to the unit's base and given a hero's send-off.

The gunner tried to talk to him on the flight back, but Jaxson just tuned him out and sat in stony silence. He sat there feeling the weight of his guilt weighing on him. Someone grabbed him on the arm and wouldn't let go. Turning, he looked at the corporal who had survived, only to see blood dripping out from under his body armor. looking him in the face, he said, "Shit Sarge, I thought it missed me." and fell over with his eyes still open.

Jaxson leaned over and gently closed the corporal's eyes. The last survivor of his unit.

Why?

"Here you go, Jaxson. That's all I have." Then remembering something, she added, "Oh! Wait a sec. You got a package yesterday."

Jaxson quietly thanked the elderly female postal worker. Leaving as quietly as he came in, he walked over to the grocery store to pick up some things. Many people passed him. Some cutting a wide berth around him. Due to his size and quiet air of menace, not many people bothered him. He could see the sheriff walking up to him, and knew just from his demeanor that he wanted to talk.

"Jaxson, good to see you. I need you to stop by the Sheriff's office on your way back to your place, please. I have something important that I need to discuss with you." Jaxson merely nodded to the other man.

Walking into the grocery store, he could hear the cashier gossiping with the customer who was checking out. "Freaky, I tell you. She showed up last week and would only go to the diner and then back to her room. Mavis said she never went anywhere and paid cash for the entire stay. This morning, she goes to clean the room, and BAM! Blood everywhere. Mattress, pillows and the carpet ripped up. Furniture turned over, drawers pulled out and smashed to pieces. Neither hide nor hair of the girl. Little thing, she is too. Maybe 5'3 and 120 pounds soaking wet. I tried to talk to her one night at the diner and she looked so scared I felt sorry for her."

"Well, what happened?" the customer asked.

"Funny thing. She jumped up, paid for her meal, and left. Poor thing hadn't even hardly touched it. Scariest thing about her is the fear she wore like a mask. She was constantly watching her surroundings. Like she was watching for someone she didn't want to see." The customer didn't answer and simply paid for her items.

Jaxson walked up and placed his items on the counter. The cashier was so afraid of him that she rang up his purchases quietly and didn't offer to speak to him. Which was fine by him. Friendship was not something he was in the market for. He didn't deserve to have friends. The last time he had friends, he let them die. Oh, it was argued that it wasn't his fault, it was the fault of the agency that had provided the intel. But, that was beside the point. Those were his men. His friends. and they had all died on his watch.

He walked out to his Jeep, where the sheriff was waiting on him. Jaxson raised one eyebrow standing in front of the man.

"Yeah, I know. Kinda tells you I either don't trust you or what I have to say is too important. A little of both actually. Come on, put your stuff in your Jeep and I'll walk you over to my office." Jaxson never uttered a word, just nodded.

As they entered the office, Jaxson took in his surroundings. Paintings of the mountains and local native artifacts, as well as newspaper articles about the wildfires that had almost destroyed this area because two kids thought it would be fun to play with matches out in the woods.

Bill tossed a thick file stamped TOP SECRET across the front of it, onto his desk. "I know who you are, Jaxson. And I believe I know why you're here. Your grandpa was a good man and this town survived several economic crises because of him. I haven't told anyone who you are yet. I figured if you wanted them to know, you would tell them. But, this file kind of answers a lot of questions for me, though. Like, why you never try to speak to people any more than you have to. But, son, hiding from the world won't bring them back. Nor do you do them any honor the way you are living." Bill could see the young man getting angry, and held up one of his hands in a placating manner. " I know. You don't want me nosing around in your business. But, when someone we don't know comes into to town and stays, you better believe that I look into them, real good."

"How did you get that file?" Jaxson demanded.

"Son, I have a lot of friends. I was in the military for twenty-five years and did a lot of "dark" operations. It netted me some very close friends and more than a few favors. I pulled a string or two and got that from a General friend of mine. He was very forthcoming about what he thought of you. Your entire career, as a matter of fact. Right down to where you almost killed that government spook that provided you and your team with the bad intel on your last mission two years ago." Bill shook his head. "Hell, I probably would have done the same thing. Military Intelligence! Huh! What a joke."

"What do you want from me?" Jaxson asked through gritted teeth.

"I am going to possibly need your help." Jaxson opened his mouth to refuse and the sheriff held up his hand again. "I know what you're thinking. I've been there. You are good enough to help people. But, I ask that you hear me out first." At Jaxson's nod, Bill continued. "The girl that everyone is talking about? The one whose motel room was destroyed and left bloody, I just need you to keep an eye out for her and anyone who looks out of place. You know the type, three thousand dollar suit, twelve hundred dollar shoes, five hundred dollar haircut, etc...."

Jaxson cut Bill off and said two words, "Drug cartel."

Bill nodded. "Unfortunately. I know you are staying out on your grandpa's farm, but you are trained to see things. I have watched you when you come into town. You automatically scan for any threat before getting out of your vehicle, entering a business. Hell! You even did it walking in here. Look, all I'm asking is for you to keep your eyes open and let me know if you see anything suspicious or anyone that you know doesn't belong."

Jaxson nodded to the older man. "I can do that. But, you know I only come into town about once every two weeks."

"That's fine. I just need extra eyes." Standing, Bill reached out his right hand to shake the younger man's and could see surprise in his eye, just for a split second.

Jaxson drove out of town as he mulled over his day and the details the sheriff gave him.

New. No one had seen her before. She had been staying at the local motel for the last week and just up and disappeared. Her car was still at the motel, her things strewn about the room, furniture ripped, drawers pulled out and dumped.

After an hour of driving, he pulls into the shed where he keeps his bike at his place. He actually enjoyed where he lived. He had fresh flowing water, plenty of game to hunt, a place to grow what vegetables he needed and a small amount of livestock. As he was walking to his cabin, he noticed buzzards circling overhead.

Realizing how close they were to him, he decided to go and check it out. After all, he didn't want predators coming after his meager livestock. Putting away his purchases, he grabs his rifle and a box of ammo and takes off on foot.

Just thirty minutes walk from his cabin, he was directly under the circling birds. He didn't have to look far to see why, either.

She was badly beaten. Her face was a mass of bruises and so swollen that she was almost unrecognizable as a female. Blood had pooled and was drying, caking her hair. She looked like she had been shot at least twice, and stabbed multiple times. Working fast and relying on his military training, he quickly scanned the area making sure that he wasn't being watched. Having known that feeling well. Realizing that the girl was just this side of death, he worked quickly. He shouldered his rifle across his back with the attached strap, put away his knife, and reached for the girl to gently roll her over. When he did, his blood ran cold.