Whether it was Jack or Reacher's special investigators, they had fully anticipated retaliation after last night's hornet's nest-stirring operation. They'd even drawn up a whole series of contingency plans: feigned exposure, baiting the enemy, drawing them out. But even so, the enemy's ferocity and speed still managed to catch everyone off guard.
Considering it had only been five or six hours since their "heist" at New Era Technologies, Jack leaned toward the idea that this attack had been premeditated all along.
But at the moment, that didn't matter. As soon as the first bullet flew, instinct kicked in. The ex-military team immediately understood: they were the priority targets. Rather than aid others, they first moved to draw fire away from the mourners, forming a combat formation using tombstones for cover.
In Jack's previous life, a certain group of opportunistic pseudo-intellectuals once dominated discourse around a certain war in the East. Ignoring casualty ratios and battlefield realities, they attributed the victory of a poorly equipped volunteer force over the United Nations military to one thing: "human wave tactics."
As if sheer fearlessness and numbers alone could allow peasants with rudimentary weapons to crush or stalemate a modern military. Some even painted American losses as the result of mercy—like in that one film where a U.S. pilot, after strafing waves of enemy soldiers, is so impressed by their bravery that he chooses not to finish them off.
Anyone with a functioning brain knows better. When that war ended, both sides walked away with important lessons.
One side developed a deep-seated fear of "insufficient firepower" and began pouring resources into heavy armor, massive artillery, and high-tech integration.
The other—America—learned agility. They started emphasizing wide maneuver sweeps, flanking tactics, nighttime combat, and a more flexible, squad-based doctrine. Even after the brutal European campaigns of WWII, the U.S. Army remained tactically rigid—relying on artillery and air power to flatten defenses before advancing. Korea taught them pain. And they adapted.
But after the Gulf War and decades of "forever wars," the U.S. Army seemed to revert. In modern conflicts, the go-to response to an ambush was to hunker down, radio for air support, and wait for precision-guided salvation.
Reacher's team wasn't built that way. These weren't regular grunts—they were military police, trained to fight soldiers.
The moment they realized the attackers had assault rifles while they only had handguns—and were at a range of over 100 meters—they didn't sit still. They advanced.
Reacher and Dixon formed one fireteam. Nigeli and O'Donnell the other. Using leapfrogging movement—one pair advancing while the other provided cover—they began closing the gap.
Their pistols were effectively useless beyond 50 meters. So they didn't shoot. They just moved. Every bullet mattered.
On their flank, JJ and Hannah were still providing suppressive fire from further west, but the assailants had superior elevation and visibility. They had even managed to disable Jack's Challenger Hellcat—flattening two tires and riddling it with holes. Thankfully, the car's bulletproof panels held.
Meanwhile, Jack had charged into the woods. With no comms, no tactical syncing, and no time for coordination, he defaulted to American-style heroics.
If they didn't have synergy, he'd just go lone wolf.
He sprinted up and around the high ground, using the cemetery's hilly terrain for cover. He wasn't just flanking—he was aiming to cut off the enemy's escape.
They weren't walking away from this. Not without leaving two breathing witnesses for questioning.
Back on the road, Hannah had taken a grazing wound across her cheek. A 5.56mm round had shattered a side mirror, and the glass had slashed her. She and JJ were the first to spot the grey BMW approaching from the treeline. They froze—unbelieving. Who in their right mind would start a gunfight at a funeral?
By the time they'd dropped their seats and retrieved rifles from the trunk compartment, the gunmen were already in the woods.
No screaming. No phone calls. No time.
Just gunfire.
Hannah opened fire first, using the sound of ceremonial rifle shots to mask her own. It worked—barely. Her quick reaction forced the attackers to adjust, ruining their first aimed shot and possibly saving lives.
But now she and JJ were pinned. Their cover: a road wide enough for two cars—open ground. Only Jack's Hellcat stood between them and getting cut down. Thankfully, the car's armored doors—Kevlar-reinforced and steel-plated—held up under the rifle fire.
Still, the shooting intensified.
A stable triangle formed on the battlefield:
To the south, Reacher's four-man squad advanced from the lower ground. To the west, JJ and Hannah hunkered down behind the Hellcat, under constant pressure. To the north, the gunmen held higher terrain, using trees and headstones for cover.
All three points were about 100 meters apart.
Deadlock.
What they needed was a breaker—someone to shatter the triangle.
And Jack was already in motion.
He had circled in from the east, flanking wide and fast. Sprinting through muddy slopes and over tree roots, he moved like a shadow, closing to within 70 meters before stopping to steady his breath.
He raised his FK BRNO 7.5, aimed carefully, and fired.
CRACK!
Among the cacophony of assault rifle fire, his single shot stood out—a crisp, high-velocity snap.
One of the attackers staggered. A bloody flower blossomed on his left shoulder blade. He fell hard, weapon clattering against a granite headstone.
The triangle cracked.
______
(≧◡≦) ♡ Support me and read 20 chapters ahead – patreon.com/Mutter
For every 50 Power Stones, one extra chapter will be released on Saturday.