Slaughter at the Oasis
Henrietta was the highest-ranking military personnel and she gave the orders to camp about 800 yards from the camp inside the oasis and prepare for the onslaught. Samson would use the M107 killing as many as he could before they went to battle at close quarter. Samson would remain at a far distance as sniper cover for those at close quarter fighting until all were dead. There would be no captives for this terrorist group must be eradicated in its entirety.
Noise from the camp indicated chaos and confusion of what transpired in their absence with a meeting with the survivors who failed to keep their leader from being killed. Three were executed when they failed to give the correct answer as others were beaten and questioned extensively about letting the females get away. The one assuming command stepped forward in the middle of the group raising his hand for silence. The seven feet, ten inch Syrian was part Turkish, Syrian and Sudanese whose temperament was indicative from each culture. Built like an ox with arms the size of large thighs bellowed from a mouth that could bite a grapefruit in half, “This is what happens when you have a weak leader being overwhelmed and killed by the same females you fucked. I am no such leader. When I find them I will personally see to their execution up close and swiftly. From now on, all who fail will be punished with death. Do you understand?”
There was no response. To demonstrate his intentions a huge hand snaked out grabbing one of those he interrogated by the throat choking him to death with the same hand throwing the limp body into the crowd. He spoke again, “Now, do you understand me?”
This time there was a response as all yelled in unison, “Yes sir!”
“That is better since we have this understanding making it easier for us to bring this little coup with these women to an end and get these weapons to Baghdad. We will search and destroy them at first light. Goodnight gentlemen.”
The band of fighters went their separate ways to quarters of their own to retire for the night after sentries were posted. A yellow moon was half shaded by dark cumulus clouds moving over starless sky. A breeze-rippled cloth that was hanging from a makeshift tent mingled with an occasional bark of a dog at some runaway critter.
Two hours passed into the night marching close to the midnight hour when Henrietta roused her troops for battle. Getting acknowledgement from each soldier of their assignments, they moved slowly into camp with the purpose to kill any and everything that moved, there would be no survivors of those who was on open ground. The females locked in their rooms were to be spared; any outside entertaining would be killed for she could raise alarm and the entire mission jeopardized. It would be a regretful situation but what must be done, must be done.
Henrietta was strapped with two military knives, an automatic rifle and service .45 caliber pistol with a black headband around her head. Raising her hand indicating to march forward, she and her female soldiers moved in as Samson watched as their guardian angel with his M107 with an infrared night scope and silencer. He would pave the way for them to enter as he sighted the first two obstacles, sentries marching as security for those who slept or was occupied entertaining a female guest. This would be their last march as Samson watched the electronic crosshairs merge pulling the trigger delighted to see a head explode as he swung the big gun 37 degrees south taking out the other sentry.
Using the radios taken from fallen enemies, an unsecured channel was used as he talked to Henrietta, “two boogies are down. Do your thing for the way is paved.”
Henrietta secured her rifle to her back as she made a trot forward with wolf eyes seeking prey with two knives in her hands. A soldier outside for a smoke spotted her coming and made for his gun but his hands never made it for the big heavy knife had penetrated his throat from the near perfect throw of Henrietta. There was no need to examine whether he was dead upon seeing both ends of the knife coming out of his throat saving time as she pulled it out having two of the women drag him behind a Levi of sandbags. The number of insurgents inside the Compound was unknown but they would have to act swiftly before they were detected.
Henrietta paired the other females to go separate directions as she and Shiva worked alone for they could handle any situation since they were soldiers. They made quick progress and were near the last three tents when a dog ran out barking making it necessary for weapon fire to stop it. This raised alarm when Shiva and the other females were captured and taken to a building that looked like an arena. Henrietta remained in the shadows to see what transpired awaiting a chance to rescue them. A giant of a man step into the clearing at least 7 feet, ten inches tall of Turkish, Mongol and Syrian heritage, 485 pounds of raw muscle brandishing a six feet tulwar or curved broadsword of fifty pounds with a scar across his left cheek. Looking upon two of the females with disdain, he walked away about five feet turning swiftly beheading both with the same stroke saying, “Since you two abhorred my lovemaking so badly, I have sent you where someone will fuck you 24 hours whether you like it or not.”
The giant sneered ordering the remaining eight in the Compound to take them to the arena and shouted, “If they are here to fight and kill, then let them fight to the death hand to hand in the arena. No one will leave alive.”
Henrietta was shaken by the turn of events but more so as a hand clamped upon her shoulder causing her to drop to the ground and rolling to her feet with the knifes in her hands. “Samson, you almost startled me to death and not to mention the harm I was getting ready to inflict on you.”
“The giant was right about no one leaving alive and that meant even him. He is mine Henrietta, you are welcomed to the rest.”
“No problem.”
“Then let’s go and put an end to this shit once and for all.”
Using the cover of the clouds beneath a yellow moon, stealth took them inside an underground labyrinth next to the pool of water at the oasis. The ground was hardened no doubt fed by an underground stream that kept the dirt from drying out becoming desert sand. Torches in sconces illuminated the downward spiral that broadened at the base with flat surface and a musty smell greeted by an inhabitant pissed that someone had cross the line, a rat let out a squeal of displeasure.
Noise of another kind filled the air of males taking their pleasure of females and they in turned showed their hatred of the act of those who performed them. A couple of Syrian soldiers had gotten their pleasure and was zipping their trousers up as another two covered the nude females in haste to reach orgasm thrusting furiously. They threw caution to the wind in their lust and did not hear nor see Samson and Henrietta as they entered standing in the shadows of the torches.
Gargoyle, the name of the giant man had a woman’s head sandwiched between his thighs giving him head throwing her to the side as a discarded dishrag as he reached an orgasm standing up bellowing, “Kill the bitches and throw them outside when you finish, we don’t need them around to contaminate the ones who obey without question. You there, the one called Shiva, I want you to understand that no Syrian woman ever make a move toward us men.” Motioning a soldier he barked, “bring her to me for I want to take care of her personally to set an example that this kind of insubordination will not be tolerated.”
Shiva was not about to bow to him and attacked head on but it was like running into a brick wall. Gargoyle’s hand shot out grabbing her around the throat lifting her with one hand strangling her slowly as her legs began to scissor as if treading water, using both hands trying to remove the choking hand to no avail. Her eyes began to bulge and tongue protruded out of her mouth with tears trickling down her cheeks. Samson had seen more that enough stepping out of the shadow yelling, “Release her and at this moment!”
Amused at the situation, Gargoyle began shaking Shiva from side to side laughing as he watched Samson advance. The other soldiers began looking for their weapons but they were in a pile near the stairwell out of reach when they saw Henrietta step out of the shadows.
“So we have two gnats to ruin our festivities,” Gargoyle chanted.
The eight soldiers were inching their way toward the gun pile but Henrietta had blocked their progress.
With a crooked smile, Henrietta said, “You see something you want, come and get it.”
“Get your bitch ass out of my way,” one of the terrorists demanded as he moved forward intent on bringing Henrietta down. He found he made a mistake as Henrietta leaped into the air with the knife held high feinting for a downward stab but landed in a crouch stabbing him in both feet and before he began to fall forward stabbed him in groin with an upward slash and slitting his throat on the way down before landing with a loud crash as dust billowed in their midst.
The others hesitated out of fear eying both Henrietta and Gargoyle for directions of their next move. Gargoyle said nothing but gave a look that most could not bear the stare, but looked at Henrietta with a newfound respect, “very well done,” he said in a booming voice slamming Shiva to the dirt floor. Shiva was not dead but very close to it as she closed her eyes passing out.
“What are you waiting for you bootlicking cowards, get her!”
Three made their move simultaneously and did not see the dirt Henrietta had in her hand but felt the effect as two were temporarily blinded as she threw some in their eyes slitting each throats in the process. They would have no need of sight where they were heading as they kissed the dirt next to their fellow soldier who preceded them. The third caught her off guard grabbing her knife hand and with a shuto knife hand broke her wrist and delivered a backhand punch to her face knocking her half crazy. He lifted her over his head slamming her to the floor using his heavy boot stamping her in the chest. He dropped to his knees preparing to deliver the killing punch but before he could finish Samson delivered a sidekick to his neck breaking it. You could literally hear the bone crack from the impact of the kick.
The remaining four charged at once weighing their chances as a gang but found that it did not help as Samson used every form of martial arts killing all four within a matter of seconds.
Gargoyle for the first time in his life knew fear. He was accustomed to meting out fear, never a recipient. He was a born fighter, no killer is the correct word and he took pleasure in killing man or beast. His greatest triumph was when he was in the Siberian Mountains and killed a rare white tiger barehanded in a chokehold. It seemed the mountains began to hum when the last breath left the animal as Gargoyle roared in victory.
There was something about this man Samson that was foreboding. He looked like any other white man, muscular that posed no threat for him for he had beaten many with the same physique. This was different for he could feel danger exuding from his very being. Gargoyle wanted to call off this fight but could not because his reputation would be damaged forever. Without it he would become a worthless animal just like those being used to pull a cart. He would rather die than become useless as a farm animal.
Gargoyle would try a different strategy rather than running head on with brute force. He would try to get to know this man maybe he could learn of a weakness of his to employ in his favor.
“They call me Gargoyle by name, but my birth name is Cretus. Many have wondered about my size and how did I become so, well it is that I came from a family of large people and ate food from good stock on a farm. I did not remain on the farm but ran away at an early age living on the range in Siberia scrounging off the land with a dwelling in a cave. I lived like that for years and finally had to leave when I fought a Siberian white tiger killing it with my bare hands. This is how I got this scar across my face from the tiger’s slash.”
Samson was not impressed with where and how he got his scar but wanted vengeance. “I don’t care how you got your scar, I am here to collect bounty for all those souls you have killed and they are screaming across time for me to exact retribution.”
“So you plan to kill me because I killed some poor fools who are better off dead. Spare me the humiliation man they are not even worth using your energy and skills on me when they could be employed on something far worthwhile with more pay.”
Shiva had gained consciousness and heard part of the conversation urged Samson, “Killed his ass before he hurts someone else. Do it fast Samson and have no mercy.”
Samson began taking off his clothes until he was in his shorts, a masterpiece of humankind, massive muscles stacked on top of each other with legs like pistons. He looked at Gargoyle and said, “You are not the first and will not be the last that I exact punishment for the atrocities you have done, killing for your personal pleasure. I hear the screams of my father and family, those executed by those who had no compassion for the helpless praying to God for someone to champion their cause. I want you to know that I am that champion. Would you like to take time to say your last prayer, at least I can grant you that.”
Growling and walking from side to side, Gargoyle slammed his tulwar blade knee deep into the dirt exclaiming, “I pray nor answer to no God. The so-called God’s are weak in that they cannot even protect those who serve them. Pray, pray, I suggest you pray,” as he grabbed and swung the big sword at Samson. Samson moved back a few paces as the blade swished past.
“I have given you all the words you’ll ever hear from me. Now you shall feel the wrath of Samson.”
“Puny fly. What makes you think you can harm me? I’ve swatted bigger flies than you.”
Samson remained mute as he indicated but picked up one of Henrietta’s knives that lay in the dirt. The ten-inch sharpened blade with fine grain Woodstock became part of his hand.
“You plan to use that toothpick against my tulwar. I think not,” as he stepped forward with a downward strike that would have split Samson in half if not for his panther like speed leaping in the air at the last moment out of harms way. He continued the vigil until Gargoyle’s arm was becoming weary swinging the big broadsword. Samson did not jump far on this swing but let it descend jumping sideways stabbing Gargoyle in the hand causing him to release the sword as he grabbed the wrist on the injured arm holding it with his right hand delivering a sidekick to his leg which caved in but did not break. Shock registered on Samson’s face for the kick would break a two by four. He would have to keep hammering on that leg until it gave in. Since Gargoyle and his people were terrorists, he would have to teach him a lesson in terror before he killed him.
“So the fly has a sting and can scramble,” laughter issuing out of Gargoyle’s mouth as he moved from side to side, eyeing Samson’s every move. A measure of additional fear crept into Gargoyle’s heart for he was running out of options. He grabbed Samson locking him in a frontal bear hug that was like a steel vise. Like Anaconda coils, Gargoyle’s arms snaked their way ever tighter forcing the air out of Samson’s lungs and inhibiting his intake of air.
Samson bit Gargoyle in the chest taking a plug of flesh out of it spitting it in his face forcing him to release Samson as he bellowed in pain clutching the gaping hole in his chest. Blood oozed between his fingers as he tried to look at the hole in his chest wiping the blood on his clothing. “I am going to fuck you up something bad for what you’ve done.”
Samson said nothing but prayed in his heart that God give him the strength to perform his duty. Samson from a southpaw position made a sliding sidekick once again to the injured leg this time causing damage as the face of Gargoyle grimaced. Gargoyle made a mistake by bending over to massage the pain in his leg as Samson sent an upper cut punch to his chin that staggered him backwards. This seemed to awaken Gargoyle because he came head on with a punch of his own to the midsection of Samson forcing the air of his lungs. Twice he made it hard for him to breathe and it was time for him to deliver his punch to the same area causing Gargoyle to double over exposing his head to Samson’s roundhouse kick that pummeled him to the dirt floor. Samson followed him there grabbing his arm with the knife wound re-injuring the cut as he put it in an arm bar hold intent on breaking it. Gargoyle was so strong that he used that arm to lift Samson off the ground as if he was just a bag of potato chip locking his big hand entirely around Samson’s throat, squeezing.
Delight crept into Gargoyle’s face and his eyes showed glee for the first time since this fight for he had Samson in his favorite chokehold. Samson could not breathe so he did not focus his energy or chi on that but slowed his heart beat and breathing to almost nothing and focused his energy into his claw hand that jutted forward sinking into Gargoyle’s larynx.
Gargoyle laughed at Samson. “So you have a choke of your own, huh? It will do you no good. What, you cannot speak. To bad my little fly because it has been fun toying with you, but you must pay the price for messing with Gargoyle!”
Samson’s eyes were peering into Gargoyle’s with great intensity forcing Gargoyle to double his effort by using both hands. Samson had not breathed in nearly five minutes and had begun to grow weak, but now his hand was on fire with Dim-Mak power as his fingers began to dig into the flesh, slowly penetrating until contact was made with bone. Gargoyle now was experiencing breathing difficulty as he began to expend so much power that he began to shake with raw strength. Samson’s clawed hand had inched its way around the larynx bone, digging, digging deeper and pulling forward as Gargoyle’s throat was making gagging noise. He tried to pull his head back but could not because it would aid in dislocating his larynx. He eased Samson to the ground releasing him throwing a hammer fist to the side of his head causing him to stagger. Gargoyle knew he made a mistake because it propelled Samson backwards giving more leverage to dislodge his larynx. He began using his two hands on Samson’s arm trying to break it loose from his neck as energy and air was creeping back into Samson’s body.
Samson jumped into the air locking his free arm around Gargoyle’s pulling him toward the ground ever exerting more force to pull out his larynx and said, “I said I would never say anything to you because I had preached your sermon. This I say is coming from all those you killed and those whom you employed have killed for they are screaming across time for me to send you to them. Scum like you are responsible for my Father and families death and it is time for you to pay. I see terror in your eyes. How does it feel? Not too good huh. What did you just tell me, Cat got your tongue? Well this is no cat here but I got something more deadly than your tongue, your larynx,” as he pulled it out with a snap of the bones holding it before his eyes watching Gargoyle gasp for breath that he could not intake.
Somehow and from somewhere, the giant let out a roar as hatred in his eyes reached out for Samson as he fell face first into the dust on the dirt floor of the arena.
Shiva and Henrietta shrieked in terror to see such a spectacle and happy it was in Samson’s favor.
They exited the arena and killed all stragglers and freeing the women who were incarcerated within their lodgings. Each was given an animal to ride to wherever they chose. Bidding each goodbye, they went separate ways as Samson, Shiva and Henrietta entered the All Terrain Vehicle driving through the camp setting fire to anything that could burn leaving no trace of what was a terrorist camp and headed back to the military base Camp Diamondback to report mission accomplished.
At the crest of a sand dune, a lone female looked back making a sign with her hands, for she was an emissary from the Cult of Dehutu preparing to make a report that their enemy was still alive and prepare to strike when the time was right.
