Thompson - The Z Directive (Book 1): Extraction Point

Text Copyright Chris Thompson 2019

Cover created by Chris Thompson and is Chris Thompson 2019, and is an original image.

T he following is a work of fiction; no likenesses to persons, living or dead, or events is intended or inferred. The subject matter is suitable for mature audiences and features scenes of violence, adult language and horror. If you do not enjoy such content, or find it offensive, then do not read any further. Reader discretion is advised.

Chapter One

J ACK RAMSAY HEARD THE helicopter coming even though it was still a long way off. The heavy, dull roar of the engine carried quite a way through the forest, and through previous experience, Jack knew this was a bigger vehicle than the private ones which occasionally passed over the rather scenic surroundings of Bell Valley. Jack slammed the axe into the tree stump and gathered the split logs, taking them back up the well-worn path to his cabin, created by his daily journey to chop wood. His home consisted of three rooms, the primary being one large, open space with the kitchen-diner on the right and the living area on the left. Directly across from the front door was the closed door to the larger of the two bedrooms and, after depositing the logs by the stove in the kitchen, thats exactly where Jack went. The room was spartanly furnished, just a bed under the small window facing the door with a wardrobe on the left and the metal locker where his weapons were kept on the right. He deftly tapped in the four digit code on the locker, opened the doors and quickly retrieved his loaded pistol, slipping it in the back of his jeans before grabbing the assault rifle and slipping the strap over his head so it hung off his side. He didnt feel the need to collect any other weapons at that moment as he didnt know for sure that the occupants of the helicopter were seeking him, but in his former life hed made enough enemies to make him cautious any time something sounding heavy enough to be military grade came in the direction of his home. And almost as bad as his enemies were his former friends.

Heading back outside, he started towards the place he knew would be the most logical for a landing zone. There was a clearing about five minutes walk north of where hed built his home in the forest; thats where theyd land, and thats where hed be waiting. He had set up a hide in a large tree that gave a perfect line of sight of the whole clearing, so he jogged to the rope ladder that allowed access to the platform hed constructed, climbed up and pulled it up behind him. Now, all he needed to do was wait. He made a few quick checks to make certain he was concealed, such as ensuring the camouflage sheet hed placed over the top of the construction was firmly in place, then he hunkered down, the assault rifle aiming out towards the open space below. Jack knew he wouldnt have to wait long.

Ten minutes or so passed and then he saw the large, black helicopter settling down onto the dirt. It bore no markings - no indications to which branch of the military it might belong - and that let Jack know exactly who had come to pay him a visit. He clicked the safety off his weapon and took aim down the sight. The pilot disengaged the engine and the rotors started slowing down; as this happened, the left door of the transport opened up and a trio of armed men in forest fatigues hopped out. They were fully armed and armored, and immediately began sweeping the area to establish a perimeter. Once the three were settled one more passenger stepped out from the gloomy interior of the helicopter; he was an older man with white hair that had deserted the crown of his head, who wore standard army fatigues with a Generals insignia on the sleeve. He took a look around as he retrieved a cap from his belt, which he slowly put his head. Jack recognized him. He was Tobias Maxwell, and he was part of the reason Jack had chosen to live in exile.

Maxwell took a few steps away from the helicopter, looking disdainfully at the dirt which rose with each footfall, as though offended it was soiling his uniform and boots.

Couldnt have found a cleaner place to retire, Jack? He called out loudly, lifting up his boot and examining the sole before stomping it down and looking around the clearing. The helicopters rotors were coming to a complete stop, whining as they powered down.

Jack didnt respond. Maxwell wasnt an idiot; if hed sought Jack out then he had to expect the reception hed receive, and yet hed come anyway. Whatever was wrong, it had to be bad.

Are you going to shoot me Jack? Maxwell demanded; his voice more easily audible now that the rotors had ceased spinning. Honestly, it might be easier for me if you did, given whats going on out there.

Jack examined Maxwells face through the scope on the weapon. There was something wrong; in all the years theyd worked together, all the crisis theyd dealt with, Maxwell had never once looked as haggard as he did now. Still, Jack said nothing.

Do you even know whats going on out there? I cant imagine you get good reception out here.

As tempting as it was just to shoot him then and there, Jack found a gnawing curiosity eating at him with regards to why Maxwell would risk catching a bullet to come and see him.

What do you want? Jack asked loudly. The soldiers twitched, looking around the space for the source of the voice.

I guess that means youre not just going to shoot me? Maxwell questioned, his voice sounding a little hoarse from shouting.

I havent decided!

Fair enough. Ill come alone to your cabin, we can talk there.

Dont move!

Jack, I didnt come all this way to lose my voice shouting at trees! Maxwell told him dismissively, starting forward. He made a simple hand gesture to indicate the soldiers should stay in position, and then continued on in the direction of Jacks cabin.

Jack kept Maxwell in his sight for a little while longer, then with a reluctant sigh, he clicked the safety back on and, without being seen or heard by the three soldiers, left the hide, climbing down the ladder and taking a slightly different route back to his home. He moved quickly, to arrive there before Maxwell, going to the front door and leveling his weapon as soon as he saw his former boss.

Jack! Its good to see you. Maxwell announced once he set eyes on him.

I wish I could say the same.

Are you still sore about what happened?

Its crossed my mind from time to time.

I can imagine. Maxwell said with a chuckle. He reached into his jacket and retrieved a packet of cigarettes. He took one out then pulled a lighter from his pocket. After drawing heavily on it, he blew the smoke into the sky.

I thought you quit? Jack asked.

I take it that means you havent seen the news?

I dont have a television or a radio.

So what do you do out here?

Jack shrugged.

I read. I do a little woodwork.