The Valley of Death

He knew they were coming before they had even breached his borders. True they weren’t exactly owned by him, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t feel responsible for the goings on involved. He didn’t know, however their exact purpose in coming here, but from their appearance, he could safely say it was nothing he would enjoy.

Shifting his weight, he looked through the scope of his rifle as he tracked their progress down the path. From here he could see a man with salt and pepper hair; and a young woman, her hair contained beneath a black beret. They were dressed in simple clothes, but he could see the bulges where weapons were concealed. That and when the young woman of the pair turned to look around, her coat flared to one side and revealed the shoulder holster with a rather large calibre handgun. This got his attention and made him smile wickedly to himself.
“What are we even doing out here, Daniels?” the young woman asked her counterpart. Thanks to the directional microphone he had set up next to him, he could hear everything they were saying. He could hear the anxiety in her voice. And the uncertainty in her movements. Despite the weapon she was carrying, it was obvious she was not a field agent. He guessed they grabbed some rookie straight out of the Academy. Some pretty face to try and get his attention. If it weren’t for the fact that he was a former alumni of the same academy, it would almost have worked. Almost.

“Because Agent-in-training Frost, this guy is the best in the business, if not the world. And we need his help. I’m hoping we can try to convince him to help us” “And if he doesn’t want to? If this guy is as dangerous as you claim, wouldn’t he be ancient and a little paranoid by now?” she asked, her head suddenly looking up at the nearest hill. Ironically where he was perched. He grinned widely to himself as he lined the scope up with her face.  “Clever girl. Let’s see how smart you really are.”
Finally the two agents reached their destination. It didn’t look like much. A pleasant looking two story house. The frontage was well maintained. A simple stone path led up to the front porch. There was a lone figure kneeling in the gardens. Worn leather boots poked out from frayed and aged pants. A floppy brown leather hat protected the wearer from the glaring sun. Their head turned slightly at the sound of gravel crunching behind them. Standing slowly but with their face hidden in shadow, they gestured for the two agents to follow them inside the house.

Just as they reached the threshold, the figure gestured to a sign next to the door above a large box which said “Price of Admission: Empty Holsters”. Not wanting to offend their host, Daniels and Frost emptied their holsters and placed their handguns and extra clips of ammo into the box. When they went to walk away from it, they were stopped by the figure as they gestured again to the box. Hanging their heads, they once again divested themselves of their spare guns and hidden throwing knives.

Making it past the “security” they were seated in two rather large and worn black leather armchairs. As they waited, Winters looked around the room. The floor was polished wood; walls the same. It seemed aged without being damaged. Everything in this house had a feel to it. It was a place of comfort; an island away from the world. She suddenly began to understand why he lived in such a remote location. As she looked out the windows, she admired the view that was presented to her.

“Quite the view isn’t it? I can see everything that happens down there from up here” a voice like gravel said out of nowhere. Much to her pride, and slight amusement, Daniels jumped higher than she did. After her heart stopped trying to escape her chest she took in the stranger.

True he was older than she was. But he was still in the prime of his life. Hair hung down to his shoulders in a ragged fashion, as did his facial hair. It looked like he cut it himself with a combat knife. Which conveniently enough, hung at his side in a worth leather sheathe at his side. But more worrying was the look in his eyes. She knew contempt when she saw it. And right now it was pointed at Daniels.

He swiftly made his way over to the third leather chair positioned in front of them. He was wearing the leftover parts of an improvised camouflage outfit. Leaning back in the chair alone showed how little a threat he felt they presented. She was intrigued and entranced. Daniels cleared his throat and said “Sir, my name is-““Senior Agent Frank Daniels” the stranger interrupted. “And the young lady is Agent-In-Training Ashely Frost.” Daniels spluttered in shock as he realised what this meant. “I’m assuming the youngster here has been briefed as to my name and former position?” the stranger asked. Ashely nodded and replied “James “Hawkeye” Peterson. Former Leader of Sniper Battalion 5. Famous for most kills in the history of the regiment. Along with the rest of his squad left the battalion with honourable discharges after 15 years of service. Served with distinction in the Information Directorate under CONOPS program. Rose to the rank of Colonel. Eventually branched out to become instructor. Well respected by his students and fellow instructors. Left the Directorate with honours. No word since.”
“Good girl. So what does the Directorate want with me and my boys? Last I heard, we weren’t designated for a kill order. And I haven’t been outside this valley in years so I doubt they would have thought I was a threat. So that means you lot screwed up somewhere and you expect me and my boys to clean up your mess. From the look of guilt on your face, Winters, that is exactly what you want. And I want you to do something in return. I want you to go back to your bosses and tell them I am not their janitor.”  Hawkeye then stood and walked away, leaving the two agents to desolately make their way out the door under the secret cover of snipers hidden all over the property.