Unbeknownst to his wife, Dave has quite an arsenal at his quiet little homestead. Set back from the slightly traveled country road, Dave's house was out of the way, barely recognizable to even the most vigilant passerby. Dave owned over seventy acres of land. A third of that land was woods, where Dave liked to enjoy deer hunting and a lot of the time, or just taking a casual stroll in the woods. They were his element. No where on earth did he feel more comfortable than in the woods
Dave's Love for the woods stemmed from his military service where he developed a deep hatred for the desert. Spending month after month training in the scorching desert sun of Arizona, preparing for the U.S. invasion into Iraq, the woods became a symbol for him. Being the exact opposite of the desert they helped him put away all the horrors that he faced during his long combat tour.
With weapons scattered about his entire house, ready for any eventuality, Dave knew he still had some preparations to make. Making his way into the small kitchen for one, he opened the silverware drawer, reached in, and pulled out a Colt .45 caliber pistol that was secured in places to the bottom of the counter top. Making his way across the kitchen, he opened the cupboard to the left of the stove and pulled out an unopened box of his late son's favorite cereal, Lucky Charms. Reaching into the bottoms of the box, he pulled out three High Capacity magazines for the pistol with 9 rounds already loaded into each. This being only one weapons point, and one ammunition dump, Dave had dozens strategically placed throughout his entire house and detached garage.
Armed with pistol, ammunition and lethal rage, Dave had plans to set out into Cleveland. They want a drop point in Cleveland, well he was going to go and do reconnaissance on every possible drop point that could before his two weeks were up. The more information he knew about where his enemy might be the better off he was.
Making his way to his garage that was set north of his house and slightly back from the road, He was going to drive into the city, park and walk around and observe the city for what it was. He had not even unlocked the door to his car before he heard the crunch of tires on gravel. A car was making its way up his driveway.
Luckily for Dave his driveway was long. Even then he knew something was wrong. The sound was off some how. Before he could try to make out what was wrong with the car, it was skidding to a violent stop in front of his house. Three men in suits quickly jumped out of the car. He knew who these guys were. The same guys who had just recently called him on the phone demanding 300,000 dollars. What made Dave scared was not that these three burley men in suit had guns, but that they didn't have guns.
The first out of the car was wearing an olive green suit with a white shirt and a light green tie. Armed with a rusty looking crowbar that looked to have had some use in its day, he ran to the back of the house, evidently to make sure Dave didn’t try and escape.
The suited Russian sitting in the back seat was second out, wearing a navy blue blazer of some quality and khaki slacks to go with it. He quickly made his way to the front door brandishing and extremely crude baseball back that seemed to have been wrapped barbed wire. Once he got to the front door he wasted no time in kicking the door in and proceeded into the house searching for Dave. Maybe looking to do a little reconstructive facial surgery on Dave with his baseball bat of joy
"It's not locked ass hole." Dave thought as he watched all this from window on his garage.
The driver of the vehicle was the last out, and seeing as how two of his men were already going through the house it looked to Dave like he might leisurely go and check the garage. As he strolled from the car to the garage it gave Dave time to think. His first Instinct was to go for the gun, but he thought differently because he was out numbered. As long as he still had the element of surprise on his side, he still had a chance.
With barely seconds to spare, he raced to the other side of the garage, frantically pulling open one of the drawers out of the work bench. Reaching under the drawer, fingers searching, not finding what they were looking for, terror gripped his mind. Could he have opened the wrong drawer? If so he would not get a second chance to open another one. He could already hear the third man whistling right out side the door.
"Where-is-the-knife-where-is-the-knife-where-is-the-knife....." Pounding through his brain repeatedly.
It wasn't there. Fingers still desperately searching for the 8 inch combat knife, honed with a razor sharp edge, that wasn't there, the door to the garage was pulled open by the driver of the vehicle.
The drivers whistling stopped. His lips still puckered like a fish, he stared at Dave in shock, obviously not expecting to find him in the garage. Attributing to his shock was the fact that he was a man looking death straight in the face. The black cycloptic eye of the .45 held the promise of his death.
Not being able to find the knife he was searching for, Dave was forced to abandon his plans of taking this enemy with stealth. Regretfully giving up his element of surprise, he unleashed the cold death that was in his hand. Three quick reports, fired in succession, took less than two seconds. All three makers of death founds their intended mark with two bullets slamming into the chest of the driver and the third taking him in the throat. The driver was blown several feet back from the force of the rounds and lay still on the ground right outside the garage door.
Dave wasn't about to kid himself. His element of surprise was the only thing going for him against these thugs and now it was gone. These were experienced men. Of course they had guns as well as the crude instruments of torture they brought along with them. With every tactile advantage set against him, Dave did the only thing he could do. He unlocked his Jeep and got in, not waiting for the door to go up, he drove right through it. He was going to continue as planned. His destination was the city of Cleveland and he was determined to know it like he knew his woods.