The Survivor

Chapter 35

As I'm walking out to the van that'll take me to my next destination I can't help but think about my family. I look down to my watch, which I have the time set to back home. They should be in the meeting with Dr.Miller by now. The drive there isn't too far.
By the time I get there, it's pitch black outside. They end up dropping me off at about five miles from my target. "I have to focus on the mission," I remind myself. I trek through the desert, and I come up across the village. The houses are made up out of stone and wood.
There's a big bonfire in the middle of the little village. There are kids running around and dancing to music. That's when I spot him. Governor Zahar Baldikave. Tonight will be his last night.
I get into the village without being seen, hiding in the shadows and keeping quiet. Eventually he heads into his tent. I wait for the light to go out and after about five minutes, it does. That's when I take my window and creep inside. I go above his sleeping figure and start to choke him. "Aghh,"she chokes out. "Where are the blueprints?" I ask in a deep menacing voice. Completely getting rid of my southern accent.
"I-I don-don't have the-them," he tries to breathe. But that's when his eyes quickly look over to a box. "Too easy," I say in Persian. I grab my katana and slice his throat. Getting blood on the cloth of the tent. I walk over to the box and open it to see the blue prints. I grab them and sprint back to the van.
As I'm running, I can hear screams in the distance. I hop in the van and we drive away. "The blue prints," one of the guards ask for, handing out his hand. I don't give it to him, something is off about him. Instead my blue eyes just stare into his black ones.
"You dare disobey me?" He questions. I don't respond, until I spot it. It's a false pin, one that's been made wrong. The pins that the men here wear are silver all around, the one this man wears is gold. I grab out my gun and shoot him right in between the eyes.
Suddenly the van stops. I hear two doors slam and two men come out back and open the back doors. "WHY DID YOU KILL HIM?!" The one yells in Arabic. Ha, they should be talking in Persian, not Arabic. They suddenly realize their mistake. Before they can act I kill them. I through them in the back of the van and drive off to the base.
Once I get back to the base, Hassan is standing right there. I hop out of the van and salute him. "At ease," he gives permission. I hand him the blue prints and he gives me a smile. "Well done my soldier." Then his smile drops and goes into confusion and anger. "Where did the rest of the men go?" He asks in an angry tone.
"They were not loyal to you sir. They were moles. I have proof for you," I tell him. I walk to the back of the van and open up the doors. There's blood all over the place. I hop in and show him the pins that they wore. "The two spoke Arabic as well which gave them off," I inform general Hassan. "Good catch, but who are they?" He asks. "Lieutenant Bukhari is not the man you think he is. In the tent, there was a picture of him and the target together. They were with Iraq," I state.
"Good work Khor Khoher, soon everyone will know of you and fear you. You are dismissed. You are free to go," he commands. Two guards escort me to my cell. Once I'm in and they close the door I walk over to my cot and lay down. I hear three bangs against the door, making my jolt up. I quickly grab my shemagh and wrap it around my face. Once it's on Hassan opens the door and walks in. "Good morning. Do you know what day it is?" He asks me. "No general Hassan," I reply.
"Today we will be testing your training and durability. In other words we're going to put you through hell and see if you can climb out of it, or fall deeper," he says with a vicious grin. This will be fun. "Here, throw this on," he says, tossing me clothes. Black cargo pants, and a black long sleeve Under Armour shirt.
After seven hours of non-stop fighting, I'm finally done. It started out with just simple hand to hand combat, then to severe obstacle courses. Then to see how long I could go without spilling information. Which I thought I already showed them. Then to a fifty verse me fight. I had my swords and they had their guns. Let's just say that no one came out of the fight alive except for me. Who came out without a single hair out of place.
"Very good, my soldier. You will be the story that parents tell their children at night. You will be the face of the Looloo," Hassan says, pleased with me. "Now, if you follow me. We have some patching up to do," he says.
I end up following him to the hospital wing. The moment I enter the room, my head is filled with so many memories. I take a deep breath and suppress all the memories. It doesn't matter any more. I walk into the room and see that there's that iconic metal table in the middle of the room. "Have a seat," Hassan says. I do as he says. I start to feel scared and I can feel myself start to shake. "You look nervous, Khor Khoreh," Hassan comments.
"No sir," I lie. I push down my feelings. I need to do better. "Good," he smiles. About a minute later a doctor comes into the room. This time though, instead of feeling scared I welcome the doctor. So to speak. The doctor that walks in is a woman, she has long, lavish brown hair. She's short, she stands at about 5'1, without the heels which give her three extra inches. She has a lovely olive skin tone and bright hazel eyes. She weighs about 118 pounds. I watch her put on her white lab coat. She walks over to the counter and opens up a drawer.
I watch her grab out a drippy bag and fill it up with water. She then pulls out a big container filled with a white powdery substance. What is that? I watch her shake the bag and the white substance dissolves. She grabs a needle and a tube and hooks it up to the drippy bag.
"Can you take off your shirt?" The lady asks in Persian. I do as she says and lift the shirt up over my head. She covers her mouth with her hands and says something that I can't quite understand. She grabs the bag and takes my arm. I look to where her eyes are and see that they're on my torso, it's the long one. The scratch mark, from the top of my torso to the end.
Hassan clears his throat, and she gets back on task. She grabs the needle and puts it in my arm. She grabs a pole and hangs the drippy bag on that. Hassan then walks in front of me. "This will be your nutrients from now on," he says. I nod. Hassan ends up leaving the room. Leaving just me and my thoughts.