The Dark Side of Neon

            Jake's thoughts turned to Annie.  He hoped he’d be alive tomorrow.  He wanted to see her face and hear her voice.  He wanted to know her when all this was over.  On second thought, maybe he’d pull a Humphrey Bogart and walk away.  As he pictured himself emulating the strong, silent type he once again checked his ammunition.

            The wind blew gently across the darkening mountains.  Far below, the neon began its nightly infiltration of the valley floor.  Jake was sweating.  Watching the neon lights spread out across the valley, he was only too aware of the tactical odds they might have to overcome.  If Hank’s information was wrong, if there were more exits from the mountainside bunker than they had covered, if the men inside decided to fight till the death, if, if, if.  Looking out across the vastness of the valley, the desolate terrain of the desert and the ruggedness of the mountains casting shadows over the earth as the sun settled behind them, his brain switched into survival mode.  He judged the terrain, the men who were at his side and his own competence.  He knew they were ready and he silently begged for the action to start.

            Jake watched as Harry took a deep breath and steeled himself for what lay ahead. He picked up vibes that emanated from Harry and he could almost read his friend’s mind.  Harry’s body language said it all.  This was his war and by God he wasn’t going to accept anything but victory.  He’d lost too much over the years to settle for anything but triumph over the sons of bitches that were deep inside the towering mountain.  He wouldn’t let doubt enter the arena of combat, not tonight, not with so much at stake.

            Harry said a small prayer, more to his dead wife Carol than to a God he wasn’t sure was listening.  He surveyed his troops one last time, then with a slight movement of his head he started their assault on the house that lay beyond the wired fence.

            Jake was ready.  There were no prayers from his lips.  He had waited for action and he was ready.

            The compound lay directly in front of them.  Harry stopped at the edge of the trees that offered them a minimum amount of protection.  The men followed his lead and stopped in their last footprints.  No one moved.  The next few minutes would set the tone for the mission.  Entering the compound area as quickly as possible without detection could mean fewer body bags on both sides of the fight.

            Harry answered his vibrating cell one last time and then he turned slowly and raised five fingers above his head.  With exacting precision, he lowered them one at a time.  When his last finger curled into his palm, he pumped the newly made fist and on cue the flashing green lights on the security post blinked no more.