Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Colonel's Liberty - 3. Vigilance
Cameron took the gap between the buildings in a single leap. If he had tried the jump six months earlier, it would have been impossible and he would be pancake on the street below. Even if he had have made it, the force of the landing would have broken both his ankles.
The area he was patrolling was not a usual haunt, and in truth, there was little going on. Cameron told himself he was being watchful, doing what a good vigilante was supposed to. It didn’t matter what part of the city he was in, he would do everything he could to stop the bad guys interfering in the lives of ordinary, decent people.
Shortly after 2100 Hours, the real reason he had been hanging around the relatively upmarket part of town emerged from one of the bars. Cameron watched as Colonel Haverson, attired in the same uniform from earlier in the day, waved goodbye to someone still inside and step out onto the sidewalk. Cameron followed the older man along the rooftops.
After the backslapping for the Colonel had subsided on the hillside, a quick inspection of the runaway truck revealed the brake lines had been cut. As Cameron had suspected, it was no accident. HQ was immediately informed and the rest of the exercise was quickly cancelled.
Unsurprisingly, the Colonel had played down his heroics in saving the truck even when alone with Cameron. As they drove back to the base Cameron felt as he needed to bring the subject up once more. John had tried to stop him but Cameron had continued unabated. “One of the bravest things I’ve seen, Sir.”
John had chuckled but continued to be dismissive about his role. “The second it looked like I couldn’t save it, I was bailing out. Really, there was nothing to it, Corporal.”
Cameron didn’t just want to discuss the Colonel’s bravery. He had his suspicions about Major Boothe and the obvious sabotage had not allayed his concern. He wanted the Colonel to bring up his own thoughts on the matter but John said nothing. Whether he didn’t suspect or simply didn’t want to raise the matter in front of his subordinate, Cameron wasn’t sure. For now, he was stuck.He had no proof and despite the Colonel being a warm and affable superior, he would not entertain the thought of a Corporal accusing a fellow officer, and a friend, of such a deed.
It was a mild night, giving way to dusk. The streets were quiet, with only the odd vehicle passing through. The Colonel had decided to forgo a cab, instead electing to walk home. Cameron watched admiringly from a distance. John stood tall and erect as he walked, muscular arms swinging with an easy confidence as his gold watch glinted with the fading sunlight.
Cameron idly wondered how long he would let himself watch the older man when a movement ahead of John caught his eye. A dark figure waiting in the mouth of an alley saw the Colonel approach before ducking back into the alleyway. John had either not noticed, or not deemed the man a threat. Cameron supposed if you stood somewhere close to the Colonel’s six foot, two hundred pound frame, it was easy to be overconfident or to let your guard slip.
Moving quickly to get a clearer view, Cameron jumped another gap, rolling with the motion as he landed. As the Colonel passed the alley the figure suddenly jumped out from behind, seizing him roughly. John’s shout of surprise was immediately muffled by a hand clamped over his nose and mouth as he was dragged into the alleyway.
Cameron vaulted the lip of the roof and landed three stories below in a crouch. He sprinted across the empty street into the alley.
John was already down, lying unmoving at the feet of his attacker. “Colonel!” Cameron called out instinctively before he could stop himself.
The man who had jumped John turned in surprise to find the costumed man behind him. h He was dressed like a thug, wearing a black bomber jacket and scruffy blue jeans. He was young, of a similar age to Cameron with blonde hair shorn close to the scalp and pale blue eyes that blazed with cold ferocity. The blade of a knife danced in his right hand.
Cameron allowed himself a glance down at John. The Colonel was sprawled on his back, his eyes closed. To Cameron’s relief he saw the slow rise and fall of John’s chest.
The Colonel’s attacker was not a large man, perhaps just a shade heavier than Cameron himself. The fact he had so easily managed to drag the Colonel into the alley and render him unconscious in seconds, told Cameron he was not dealing with an average mugger.
“Step away from the soldier,” Cameron ordered, his voice dropping easily into the Liberty character. The man circled away from John, keeping his eyes focused on Cameron.
Suddenly, the knife shot out, Cameron was quick enough to parry the first attack but not the backslash. Searing pain flashed across his hand as the knife nicked his palm.
Cameron pivoted away, putting distance between himself and John’s attacker. He felt the warm rush of blood as droplets fell began to drip from his injured hand. He took a breath to steady himself. Since he had become Liberty, few men had been anywhere close to matching him for speed.
Sensing the advantage his adversary pressed forward. His next attack was too wild, too eager for victory. They pair came together in a tangle of limbs. Cameron managed to get control of the man’s wrist and twisted hard. The attacker gave a strangled yelp of pain as the knife fell from his hand.
Kicking the knife away, Cameron used the same motion to drive a knee up into the man’s stomach. The force of the blow lifted the thug from his feet. He rolled as he landed, pulling himself up to his feet before sagging against the alley wall for support
Cameron took a step forward but the fight was gone from his oppenent who turned on his heel and ran.
Normally Cameron would have followed but his immediate concern was th e Colonel. He moved back across the alley to crouch next to the unconscious man, checking for injury. There were no obvious wounds, aside from a graze on John’s left temple. The Colonel’s breathing was steady and his pulse strong.
Huffing a sigh of relief, Cameron looked down at John. Even when unconscious, the man still looked good. His strong, square jaw was set almost defiantly and the struggle had barely knocked a hair out of place. Cameron leaned in closer. “Colonel?” The gentle touch of Jon's breath was warm against Cameron’s skin. The scent of coffee and natural sweat mixed pleasantly with the Colonel's smokey aftershave. He ran a hand through John’s hair as he entertained the thought of stealing a kiss from the unconscious older man. Sense quickly got the better of him and he scolded himself for even considering the foolish notion.
Removing one of his gloves, he placed his hand on top of Jon's. The Colonel's hand was strong and could have almost enveloped Cameron’s. He could feel the touch rough callused skin courtesy of a life of real work. He squeezed gently and was rewarded with a low moan from the Colonel. Slowly, John’s eyes fluttered open. “Ugh..” His hand went to his head as he slowly sat himself up.
“Are you alright, Colonel?”
“I’ll be ok,” John replied with an embarrassed sigh. It took him a moment to realise the man kneeling next to him was dressed in costume, complete with stars, stripes and a fetching blue mask. He looked away as he gave his head a shake. “I’m not even sure I’m awake yet,” he said with clear disbelief. “ Liberty?”
Cameron couldn’t hide his smile at the mention of the name. The Colonel knew who he was. “You’ve heard of me then,” he said, reminding himself to keep his voice low to stay in character.
“Me and every other serviceman. What are you doing here?”
“All part of the job,” Cameron said, “Rescuing handsome Colonel’s.” Feeling emboldened by the costume and still on an adrenaline high, Cameron placed a hand on John’s shoulder. “Glad to see you’re ok, Sir.”
John managed a rueful smile. “All thanks to you. That was one tough mugger.”
Cameron’s smile faded. “That was no mugger, Sir. Had to tangle with him myself. Too well trained. The way he took you down speaks to that. ”
John’s brow furrowed. “If not a mugger, who?”
“I’m not sure, Sir,” Cameron replied. It felt strange to be talking in such an authoritative voice to the older man. “My best guess is he was going to rob you to make it look like one thing and then dispose of you.” To his credit, John did not seem shaken by the hypothesis. “Is there anyone who would wish you harm?”
“I’ve made a fair share of enemies in this line of work,” John admitted. “Although most are either dead or behind bars.”
Cameron thought on that. “A new enemy then.” He thought back to the brake lines and how Boothe had hurriedly left the Colonel to oversee the scene of the future accident. “Sounds to me, Sir, that you need someone to watch your back.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Of that I have no doubt, Colonel.” Cameron gently squeezed the shoulder he still held on to. “But, for my own peace of mind I hope you don’t take it as an insult if I keep a close eye on you.
John took the time to look the costumed man up and down. “I don’t think I’d mind that at all.”
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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