Bones: Enemy Mine
Title: Enemy Mine
Chapter: 4/?
Author: Insomnfreak
Rating: Teen
Disclaimer: I've been attempting long distance mind control over KR & HH but they seem to be resisting, thus Bones is sill not under my control.
Summary: Sometimes your past comes back to haunt you in ways you least expect it.
IV:
Penry Lake, Virginia- Next Day
The crystal blue waters of Penry Lake sparkled in the late morning sun, its peaceful surface barely stirring as a man cast his fishing line into the water. Adjusting his ball cap, Ray Miller settled in, prepared to wait the fish out. He’d been at it for two hours and had caught two good sized bass for his efforts but he had saved his lucky fishing spot for the last and was happy to find it deserted. Of course, Wednesday morning wasn’t a big fishing day, which was why Ray had picked it.
He had been on vacation for eight days and for eight days he had gotten up at 5 a.m., taken his morning run, prepared breakfast for his wife and made a few sandwiches and a thermos full of coffee for himself. Ray would then walk down to the lake with fishing gear in hand and set out in his aluminum John boat, enjoying the peace and beauty of the private lake.
When his wife, Dawn, had suggested they get away for awhile, Ray had initially bristled. He felt too keyed up to go somewhere and lay around all day, but when Dawn had mentioned his grandparent’s cabin, Ray had slowly come around. The cabin and lake were in stark contrast to the harsh environment and living conditions he had endured for the past six months while working in Afghanistan.
As a security specialist for Dunbar & Croft, Ray Miller had been tasked to protect an elected official and his family from being the latest casualty of the Taliban. His charge’s predecessor had been unfortunate enough to catch six AK-47 rounds in the back but that was only after his wife and children had been slaughtered in their home. Aside from the occasional piss poor shot from a wannabe assassin hidden behind some rock, Ray and his team had found their assignment relatively easy.
But, as is the case in such troubled places and times, there is always someone willing to go the extra distance to try and finish the job. In the case of Atash Farzam and the men that wanted him dead, that meant a car bomb as the man left the local mosque. It might have worked if the bomber had used properly coated wiring to build his bomb; instead a shorted wire caused the bomb to detonate too soon, saving Mr. Farzam from a gruesome death.
A mother and her four young children passing by were not so lucky.
A nibble on the end of his line had Ray quickly abandoning the ghastly memories of Afghanistan as he sat up abruptly, his eyes zeroing in on the red and white bobber in the water. One, two, three nibbles and then a bite and Ray was reeling in his last catch of the day. His wide smile beamed on his tan face, his blue eyes alight behind his Ray-Bans, as he masterfully brought the fiesty fish in closer to the boat.
The familiar sound of a far away pop caught the fisherman’s attention a split second before a bullet slammed into his back, propelling him forward. His hands came up, covering the hole in his chest just before Ray Miller toppled into the quiet waters of the lake. His last thought was of his wife and wondering whether she had found her breakfast in the microwave, and then there was nothing.
Chapter: 4/?
Author: Insomnfreak
Rating: Teen
Disclaimer: I've been attempting long distance mind control over KR & HH but they seem to be resisting, thus Bones is sill not under my control.
Summary: Sometimes your past comes back to haunt you in ways you least expect it.
IV:
Penry Lake, Virginia- Next Day
The crystal blue waters of Penry Lake sparkled in the late morning sun, its peaceful surface barely stirring as a man cast his fishing line into the water. Adjusting his ball cap, Ray Miller settled in, prepared to wait the fish out. He’d been at it for two hours and had caught two good sized bass for his efforts but he had saved his lucky fishing spot for the last and was happy to find it deserted. Of course, Wednesday morning wasn’t a big fishing day, which was why Ray had picked it.
He had been on vacation for eight days and for eight days he had gotten up at 5 a.m., taken his morning run, prepared breakfast for his wife and made a few sandwiches and a thermos full of coffee for himself. Ray would then walk down to the lake with fishing gear in hand and set out in his aluminum John boat, enjoying the peace and beauty of the private lake.
When his wife, Dawn, had suggested they get away for awhile, Ray had initially bristled. He felt too keyed up to go somewhere and lay around all day, but when Dawn had mentioned his grandparent’s cabin, Ray had slowly come around. The cabin and lake were in stark contrast to the harsh environment and living conditions he had endured for the past six months while working in Afghanistan.
As a security specialist for Dunbar & Croft, Ray Miller had been tasked to protect an elected official and his family from being the latest casualty of the Taliban. His charge’s predecessor had been unfortunate enough to catch six AK-47 rounds in the back but that was only after his wife and children had been slaughtered in their home. Aside from the occasional piss poor shot from a wannabe assassin hidden behind some rock, Ray and his team had found their assignment relatively easy.
But, as is the case in such troubled places and times, there is always someone willing to go the extra distance to try and finish the job. In the case of Atash Farzam and the men that wanted him dead, that meant a car bomb as the man left the local mosque. It might have worked if the bomber had used properly coated wiring to build his bomb; instead a shorted wire caused the bomb to detonate too soon, saving Mr. Farzam from a gruesome death.
A mother and her four young children passing by were not so lucky.
A nibble on the end of his line had Ray quickly abandoning the ghastly memories of Afghanistan as he sat up abruptly, his eyes zeroing in on the red and white bobber in the water. One, two, three nibbles and then a bite and Ray was reeling in his last catch of the day. His wide smile beamed on his tan face, his blue eyes alight behind his Ray-Bans, as he masterfully brought the fiesty fish in closer to the boat.
The familiar sound of a far away pop caught the fisherman’s attention a split second before a bullet slammed into his back, propelling him forward. His hands came up, covering the hole in his chest just before Ray Miller toppled into the quiet waters of the lake. His last thought was of his wife and wondering whether she had found her breakfast in the microwave, and then there was nothing.