Tampa Star (Blackfox Chronicles Book 1) (26 page)

This was not going to get any better with time and that same constraint meant his plan would have to be simple. Kyle instinctively reached for the personal sidearm he customarily carried and cursed as he remembered that he hadn’t taken it with him to Utah. He figured that sooner or later, the teens would notice one of the
cowering patrons and the body count would start. Kyle exploded forward from the crouch, closing the approximate 40 feet between him and the shooters in about three seconds―it seemed like forever. He specifically targeted the larger teen as he appeared the greater threat.

The teen partially had his back to him, pointing the weapon at a blond haired youth sprawled on the floor in front of him. Kyle drove his shoulder into the middle of the fat teen’s back with the linear force of 220 pounds of lean muscle mass moving at
fifteen miles per hour. The impact sent Lindy careening forward, his chin hitting the tile floor with an audible crack. One of the pistols clattered to the ground and Kyle scrambled after it, snatching it off the floor and leveling it at the other teen, just as a forty five caliber round struck him in his right shoulder.

Kyle uncharacteristically swore under his breath and felt the pistol begin to slip from his hand.
Luckily, MARSOC had trained him to fire with his weak hand. He reached over with his left hand and grabbed the Glock from his now lifeless right arm.

Another round shattered against the tile wall behind him and Kyle knew he didn’t have much time. He raised the
Glock toward the skinny teen and squeezed off three rounds in rapid succession.

All three bullets struck Ralphie in his birdlike chest, killing him before his body reached the floor. Kyle
visibly sighed in relief and then felt the cold rush of adrenaline induced anxiety when he realized he had forgotten about the other teen.

He turned just as Lindy fired the AMT Backup until it was empty―four of six .380 caliber rounds struck Kyle in his midsection. He felt the impact of the small rounds followed by the immediate pain associated with a gut wound, and knew it was bad.

Even in dying, there was always something left to do and Kyle felt he would be damned forever if he let this unrepentant sinner escape divine justice delivered by a human proxy.

He
expertly aligned the front sight post of the Glock with the rear sight and emptied the remaining rounds into Lindy Ray Boylin’s chest and head―thus prematurely ending a misguided and wasted life before it could do any more damage.

The police cars arrived on the scene twelve minutes after the first 911 call was made. The first two man patrol to respond found little more than a bunch of hysterical shoppers and three dead bodies. Had Kyle
Christiansen not been there, a lot more people would have died. A detective removed Kyle’s wallet from his body, found his military ID and called Hill Air Force Base to see if he was assigned there. “A Marine Captain,” he said to no one in particular. After a few minutes, he got his answer.

The detective made a cursory inspection of the bodies of the teenagers and found the bullets had been delivered with the exactness of someone well versed in precision shooting. He interviewed several witnesses and began to take statements and they all basically said the same thing. “It would have been a lot worse, had it not been for a good guy with a gun.”

The detective looked at the dead body of the Marine that one of the uniformed cops had covered with a blanket acquired from a nearby store and then did something he hadn’t done in over a decade. He smartly brought the heels of his rubber soled shoes together, conveyed the knife edge of his hand up to the side of his head and saluted the dead Marine. “Godspeed, Sir!”

At eight thirty five that evening, the duty officer at the MARSOC Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility was notified by the staff duty officer that an incoming team member for a pending contingency mission had been killed and was therefore, no longer available for temporary duty at the Command.
.

Starfish Prime is available for sale at

http://www.amazon.com/Starfish-Prime-Blackfox-Chronicles-ONeil-ebook/dp/B00IQXL2LO

T.S. O’Neil writes about heroes with a few chinks in their armor. He is a retired Lieutenant Colonel (LTC) from the Army of the United States and a former Marine. He served twelve years on active duty and an equal number in the reserves of both the Army and Marine Corps in various occupational specialties including Civil Affairs, Military Police and Marine Corps Infantry. He is married to the lovely Suzanne O’Neil and lives in Seminole, Florida. He is also the author of
Tampa Star
and he will be publishing his next book,
Mudd’s Luck,
in early 2015. Follow him on Twitter at @tselliot3 or email at
[email protected]