Page 130 of The Fourth Option
“I’m not getting in that fucking thing,” Walker replied.
The butt of the AKM connected with his lower back, dropping Walker to his knees.
As he doubled over in pain, his left hand went to the lanyard at his neck, moving to the silent dog whistle. He blew four quick blasts.Attack.
His other hand went to the Regiment Blade in his waistband.
Come on, Paladin, come on.
“Get in,” Babineaux ordered again.
Walker’s back was to three of them. The man who had opened the CONEX box stood by the door, ready to close it once Walker was inside. The SEAL turned his head slowly toward his aggressors, his empty left hand indicating that he was getting up.
Beyond Babineaux, fifty yards away and closing like a torpedo, came Paladin.
Walker struggled to his feet still bent over in pain, his left hand now on his lower back where the AK had connected.
“Don’t fuck with us!” Babineaux yelled. “Get in the damn container!”
Walker faked a stumble, hesitating, drawing the man who had hit him with the AK closer for another blow. He saw him turn the rifle around and rear back.
Walker met Paladin’s fiery eyes. The dog ran silently at full speed, mouth open, tongue flapping. Fur missile inbound.
Three… two…Paladin was airborne.
Babineaux went down hard, the dog tearing at the arm still holding the shotgun.
Walker spun, knocking the butt of the AKM offline and thrusting the curved blade into his captor’s stomach, then quickly extracting it and punching it in and out of his body, working his way up his torso. Three quick punches pierced his heart. Two more to the throat finished him, covering Walker’s face in blood as he severed the carotid artery.
Trained to eliminate the next threat, Paladin was off Babineaux and ripping the arm of the man with the AKM at the CONEX box door to shreds.
José was raising the Glock he had taken from Walker when the blade sliced across his wrist. As the pistol fell to the ground, Walker reversed the direction of his attack and sliced through Jose’s bicep, cutting to the bone. José’s working arm flew to the site of the pain, leaving him defenseless. Walker jabbed twice. The knife was designed to function as a natural extension of the hand. The weapon punctured José’s neck. He opened his mouth to scream but his larynx was already separated. Walker’s hook, which sliced across his bloody throat, finished him off. José was dead moments after he toppled to the ground.
Babineaux was in bad shape, bleeding from his arm, chest, neck, and face; what was left of the skin on his jaw barely covered the bone beneath. He writhed in pain reaching for the shotgun as Walker passed him, kicking him full force in the head with the toe of his Iron Ranger boot.
Paladin continued to maul the man by the CONEX, who was doing his best to fend off the Belgian Malinois intent on subduing him.
“Los,” Walker ordered as he approached. Let go.
Paladin stopped immediately.
“Fass,” Walker said, pointing at Babineaux, telling the dog to bite the fat man on the ground.
Walker knelt and jabbed the blade into the AK man’s lungs, heart, and throat. He was dead in seconds.
He stood and turned back to Babineaux, who less than a minute earlier had held the upper hand.
“Los,” he ordered. Paladin took two steps back, mouth open, panting.
“Good dog,” Walker said, as he knelt and switched his attention to the wounded man. “Tell me about Bates.”
“Fuck you, soldier boy.”
“I’m going to make this easy on you, Babineaux. Tell me about your arrangement with Bates and I’ll let you live. If not, I’ll do something our Afghan friends used to do to prisoners when we turned our backs. Do you know what that was?”
Babineaux spat blood.
“They would put a blade, not dissimilar to this one,” Walker said, holding the Regiment Blade up for Babineaux to focus on, “up to a prisoner’s cock and balls. If they didn’t get a coherent answer, they would slice them off and go to the next guy. He was usually more cooperative.”
