5 weeks later, Thursday. 16:00 Armstrong Lecture Hall

No sooner had John sat down than a quiz appeared at his student terminal to his right. He sighed, stowed his backpack under his seat, and began working on it. He was ten questions into it when Kristin sat down. Her confusion about what was happening was soon answered with a sigh, some swearing under her breath, and eventually acceptance by starting her quiz.

John finished the quiz in about half the time that was allotted. After he had submitted it he opened his tablet, secured it, and then began reading any updates made to the investigation. There were still no arrests made but progress was finally being made. Though the originators of the conspiracy have not been identified, several more people across the Confederacy have been connected to it.

Eventually, John had to focus, or at least appear to be focusing on the lecture throughout the rest of the class. Thirty minutes later the professor ended the class a bit early, but let them know that class was still on for Friday and that skipping class would result in a five percent reduction in their final grade.

“What a kick in the nuts,” John muttered as he left the room.

“To be fair, we weren’t planning to leave until 18:00 tomorrow,” Kristin said.

John shook his head, “It’s not that, it’s that he would deduct five percent of your grade. That’s just a dick move.”

“I like how you said that out of earshot,” Kristin said smirking.

John shrugged, “I’m smart enough to know when and where to say certain things.”

“True, so did Alice shoot down the chartering of a plane?”

“Yes, so it’ll be her fault when we wait at the airport for fucking ever tomorrow evening.”

Kristin sighed, “Think you’ll be able to convince her otherwise?”

John started to laugh, “The only person I know that is more intractable in their views than me is my wife.”

5 Days Later, Tuesday. 01:30 Tampa Bay Gulf District

Spring break was underway, but it had been a dumpster fire from the get-go. Things started out with a three-hour delay in their flight. When they got to the rental home and found the groceries they paid to have delivered were left outside to rot. Then the entry code to the rental home worked to shut the security system off but not open the door. One of the rental cars didn’t start after they got to their home away from home. The other one they took got backed into at the store. Alice and Andern both dropped wine and liquor bottles. The grill at the house was also out of propane and despite assurances that there’d be backup tanks, there was in fact no replacement tank.

After dealing with all of that plus some pretty awful weather that severely limited what one could do outdoors the group collectively said ‘fuck it' and decided to go to a bar and get blackout drunk. Because nothing bad can happen to you when you are that drunk. Naturally, some punks decided to try and rob the place and John was feeling particularly belligerent.

“You know, it’d be really nice if I had a gun,” Thomas said quietly before exploding, “YOU KNOW TO SHOOT BACK AT THEM!”

“Not my fault,” John said calmly despite him burning up inside with anger.

“We’re fine over here,” Andern shouted, “For now anyway.”

“This has been a terrible trip so far,” Alice said.

“Right? Can someone do something about the thugs shooting this place up?” Theresa said with a sense of urgency.

John was sick and tired of all the bullshit leading up to the bar trip. That some gang decided to descend upon this bar and target someone there was just the icing on this shit cake that had been served to them.

“Fine, if y’all want guns, then I’ll get some fucking guns,” John gritted his teeth.

He grabbed a knife from the cubby hole nearest him by the beer cooler. He jumped over the bar and ran to the nearest man, catching him completely off guard. They didn’t believe anyone would attack them back. The young man didn’t see John attack him, but he felt the knife pierce the back of his neck. Then he lost control of his arms and legs.

John grabbed his right arm and took the gun from him. There were three other attackers in that room. One caught notice of the attack in their peripheral vision. But they didn’t respond to John’s aggression quickly enough. The other two were alerted to someone fighting back when three quick shots were fired.

The bullets flew true, as was the usual case with John, and caused the man to fall over backward slowly and bleed out on the floor. One round had ripped through his liver, another a lung and the struck his heart squarely.

Three more rounds were fired at the farthest man. One missed as he was turning to face the direction of the gunfire but the other two struck their targets. The second round was a flesh wound that ripped between the membrane between ribs but missed organs and bone. The final round fired at the man struck him just below his left eye.

The slide on John’s gun locked back, indicating he was empty. As the third man John had attacked was falling down, his body spasmed causing him to fire into the ground. John used that momentary distraction and threw the empty gun at the lone attacker and charged him.

“WATCH OUT!” screamed Kristin.

John grabbed the gun tight and pushed it toward the ceiling. The final attacker pulled the trigger sending the bullet into the ceiling above the two. But the slide stayed put, which meant the spent cartridge was still in the chamber.

“The fuck you doing holmes?” the attacker growled at John.

“If you stop now I promise you won’t be dead,” John said through clenched teeth.

“Nah man, I’m gonna pop a cap in your ass.”

John stopped playing and pulled the gun up and toward the man. This wrenched the gun from the man’s grip. He kicked the man in the chest to make some space between the two men. John’s left hand sprung forward to grab the slide. When his right hand was on the grip he pulled the slide back and let it fling forward. Then as he pushed his right arm forward he gripped the pistol with his left hand.

He fired two shots into the man’s chest, then doubled tapped his head. Brain matter and blood covered the white wall behind him. He fell awkwardly to his left and bled out on the floor. The third man then coughed, but John leveled the gun at him and fired two more rounds at him. The bullets pierced his head and embedded themselves in the wall the man was leaning up against.

“Everyone alright?” John shouted.

John then bent over and picked up the other two guns from the descendants along with the empty one he had thrown. He brought the guns back to the bar. John set the three guns down on the bar exempting the one he still held in his right hand.

“Thomas, why don’t you take one since you wanted one so god damned badly,” John said.

“I was being shot at, it’s not normal to be shot at,” Thomas was shaking his head.

“Cops just showed up,” Alice said as she heard the sirens outside, “OH MY GOD!”

Alice dropped the phone and snatched one of the guns from the bar and quickly fired four rounds towards where John had dispatched the gang-bangers. Two of the spent cartridge shells careened off Thomas and Brian. One managed to go down the back of Andern’s shirt, which caused him to jump onto the floor trying to get the burning hot shell away from his skin.

There was a fifth man that ran inside when he had heard the gunfire. Two of Alice’s rounds struck the man but were not killing shots. John turned around and fired two more shots before the man had a chance to react, both hit the man in the neck.

The gun fell out of the ganger’s hand as he fell to the floor holding onto his neck. He was young and not as tattooed up as the others. It was highly likely that he was a new or probationary member. John would never forgive anyone that attacked him, but he would reap a bloody toll against anyone that would attack his loved ones.

John walked over to the man and stood atop of him, “You made a lot of dumbass decisions in your brief life. The first was joining this crew, the second was coming along with them to this robbery, but the biggest was holding a gun and beginning to aim it at my friends and admittedly more importantly my wife.”

John pointed the gun at the young man and pulled the trigger four times until the slide locked back. The back of the young man’s head may have looked as if it had exploded. Brain matter and gore were spread all over the floor. John sighed deeply, this was yet another of many cases that his awareness was now that of a seasoned veteran.

“Hands….” a cop had entered the room.

John tossed the empty gun on the floor and stepped over the dead man and walked back to the bar.

“Up. Ok, clear in hear,” the cop saw ten young adults in the room then spoke into his mic, “Yeah we’re clear in here. The patrons went Rambo on these fucking idiots. Roll the coroner and a cleaner. Jesus fucking Christ.”

John turned the faucet on and washed his hands slowly and methodically. When he was content his hands were clean he grabbed a clean glass and poured the most expensive scotch, which was only a twelve-year-old Balvenie Sherry Cask, then took a healthy drink from his glass. John set the bottle down and leaned against the bar while looking at the floor.

Alice hugged him and whispered, “Thank you.”

Thomas slapped John’s shoulder, “You know I was only joking about wanting a gun.”

“I know.”

“Stress reaction and all, but thanks again.”

Nathan was spinning around in a chair, “So that’s thirteen baddies you’ve put on ice already this year?”

“Nah, one of them at the corporate building survived,” Andern said, “He was at ten already right?”

“Fifteen. Good lord dude,” Kevin said cathartically.

“On the plus side if this whole military thing pans out he’s could be a career assassin or hitman,” Theresa said as she squeezed Kevin’s hand.

“Y’all need some real fucking help,” the cop said as he walked up to the bar, "People don't normally react this way to crime."

John pushed off the bar and grabbed his glass and chugged the scotch, “Damn wasteful way to drink that stuff.”

He pulled out his Naval Intelligence identification and handed it to the cop.

“Holy shit, it’s the license to kill,” the cop said, “Let me validate this, if so, y’all can get the hell out of here.”

The cop walked back to the gore-filled entryway and called it in. He received an answer within a minute and walked back to the group. He told them to head out the back and that he’d work with Naval Intelligence for anything he needed.

03:15 Rental House

Alice clung to John on the drive home. He assured her that she didn’t do anything wrong and that she did well. By the time they got back to the house, they were all feeling the effects of the adrenaline wearing off in their systems. John got Alice into bed then cleaned up. She was sound asleep as he changed then left the room.

“Not everyone needs to die that targets you, you know,” Andern said leaning by the gate.

John’s eyes appeared as if rage had possessed him yet he spoke calmly, “They targeted us, they targeted Alice.”

“Need my help?”

John smiled and walked over to his friend, “You haven’t crossed this line yet. Being ordered to shoot enemy troops and ending someone in cold blood are radically different things. Trust me when I tell you that I don’t want any of you to go through that.”

“I figured you'd say that, but come back safely. We all want you back.”

John shook Andern’s hand, “Do me a solid and keep this between us.”

Andern grunted, "Right, like your going to be able to keep this under wraps."

Andern turned as John walked to the rental car. He walked back to his pool cabin and wondered what John was going to do. It was likely going to be violent and bloody.

04:15 West Side Projects – Cambridge Building 2, 17th Floor

John caught the man guarding the stairwell exit by surprise. The man was flailing his arms about but John squeezed his arm tightly against the man’s neck and twisted the man’s head. A sickening crunch was made and the flailing stopped. John set him down quietly.

He opened the door slowly and peaked down the hallway. Unfortunately for John, the target room was midway through the hall. On the other hand, the building was in disrepair and had been taken over by the gang. Not all of the rooms had doors to them. Several of them had holes in the wall that allowed John to creep through the floor undetected.

Three more gang members were eliminated in a similar violent fashion. He borrowed a pair of firearms to have just in case. John peaked out both ways down the hallway. No one was there but he could hear voices in the different rooms. He walked out and tried to open the door, but it was locked.

He pulled out his lockpicking kit and got to work. He was slower than normal because he was focused on his surroundings more than normal. Eventually, the lock was picked and he slowly opened the door. He put the kit back in his pocket and pulled one of the guns from his waist. He could hear an animated argument. He turned around to lock the door.

“Look man, our brothers are dead, we need to retaliate,” one gang member said.

“That bar was defenseless and we’d never had any problems hitting it up before.”

“Who the fuck was there?”

“My cousin is telling me some Navy brats were there. Didn’t think they knew how to do anything except push paper.”

“We need to track them down and make them pay,” the leader of the group said.

John pushed the safety on the gun off. The gang sealed their fates with that idiotic decision. John slowly walked into the crowded room. His gun was held at the high ready position.

“No, no you won’t be doing that,” John said.

The eight men in the room were not prepared for a great many things that night. The least of which was the living embodiment of the Grim Reaper. John aimed his gun at the closest man and double-tapped them. He went from man to man. When the gun’s slide locked back he dropped it and drew the remaining gun from his waist.

Three of the men were dead, two were clinging on to life, two more were frantically trying to draw their guns. The leader, through some miracle or sheer happenstance, was the only one that didn’t get shot. But he was so shell-shocked at what had happened that he froze.

John fired at the men that were frantically trying to find their guns and then executed the two clinging to life by firing a single shot into their heads. He walked up to the leader of the gang and pistol-whipped him.

“I’m disappointed, I figured you’d been in a gunfight before. Looks like you’ve never been on the receiving end,” John punched the man, “Unlock and hand me your tablet now.”

The leader complied and handed his phone to John, “Killing me isn’t going to solve anything.”

“You’d be surprised by what your death will accomplish,” John smirked.

He put the tablet on the arm of the chair to his left and pulled out a voice modulator with an electronic disguiser from his pocket. He didn’t want his voice connected to anything and any electronic device attempting to record him would show him a blurry mess. Afterward, he picked up the tablet and began a live stream that was shared with everyone that was on his contact list.

“Stand up and walk over to that window,” John ordered as he began the live stream.

The tablet was resting against a light across from the gang leader. He wore an odd combination of fear and defiance on his face. Then John stepped into the frame.

“This idiot sent some of you to rob a place my friends were at. Your friends got killed for their idiocy. Now he was planning on retaliating against those who fought back. We take exception to that.”

John then punched the man and before the leader had a chance to say anything or react to the punch John picked him up. He then slammed him into the wall and then threw him out the seventeenth-floor window.

“Anyone who comes after them will wind up like the fuck face that just tried to fly. When we're done with y'all we’re going to come after your friends and family too. The toll we will reap will be unlike anything you stupid fucks have ever done yourself.”

John then grabbed the tablet and threw it out the broken window. He took off and turned off the modulator and walked back into the living room. He found three of the men had the same gun, so he acquired that gun and two spare magazines for his troubles.

Not surprisingly there was banging at the door. Some of the gang was in the building and were trying to help out. Or take revenge for the dead. John could make out at least four different voices.

“Where the fuck are the guards?”

“Stop talking and open the fucking door.”

John slowly walked into the kitchen and hid behind the fridge. He wanted as many in the room as possible before he attacked them.

“Open the fucking door bro, Jesus Christ it doesn’t take that long.”

“Got it, let’s ice this mofo.”

The door swung open, and four men ran in, looking forward. John crept forward and pointed his gun at the last man to enter and fired a single round at his head. He then shot at the other men and dropped all three of them. One of them was struggling on the floor but John walked over and executed him.

He bent over a picked up another spare magazine and poked his head out of the door frame. No one was coming, all of the available reinforcements had already been sent to help the gang members. John didn’t feel the need to stay around any longer than he had to. He sped off down the hall and got to the stairwell. He stopped, closed his eyes, and listened. He would run down a few stories, stop, and listen several times on his way out.

07:30 Rental Home

John was cleaning up and making breakfast for his lightly hungover and hungry friends. The group was having an argument about what they should do for the day. Nathan walked over to the couch and turned the TV on. The local morning show was on.

“In other news, fifteen gang members are confirmed to have been killed in a slaughter in the evening hours. A live stream apparently showed their leader being thrown to his death. The police are investigating whether or not this was linked to the attempted bar robbery that ended in five gang members' deaths earlier in the evening.”

“Weird how more gang members ended up dying,” Nathan said.

“Yeah, that is so weird,” John said unconvincingly, “Who wants waffles?”

“ME!” Andern shouted as he grabbed a plate and butted to the front of the queue.

“Dare I even ask?” Alice said from the end of the kitchen island.

“I had a hunch that their crew was going retaliate. I was right.”

“Alice, you gotta admit that while overly brutal and lacking any subtlety, his methods do ring true to the criminal world,” Kevin said as he gave Andern the look for butting in front of him.

Alice got up and walked over to John, hugging him tightly. She may not have liked or even agreed with him running off to put himself in danger. Alice couldn’t argue that he was doing bad things to bad people for a good and just reason.

Naval Intelligence would concur later in the day. They considered the gang members’ deaths at the housing project as collateral damage. No reprisals would come from the gang, largely due to its senior leadership all being killed that morning. All they could do was rant online and rage in private with one another.