Death
By GodsillY

Story behind the story:

The inspiration for this story is from John Ringo's books especially Ghost. However this book and his book are very much diffrent. Also I'd like to dedicate this book to the girls who gave me inspiration for the characters.

Thank You to my old next door neighbor and my best friend Ashley for inspiration for Ashley. Thanks to the little girl from my church who thinks I'm "the funnest person ever" for inspiration for the Character Makenna (and it is spelled like that on purpose) and thanks most of all to Abby from the camp where I worked for inspiration for Ally, and for encouraging me to write this story and make it the "best story anybody has ever read in their lives."

This story was originally a lot more graphic and had more swearing, I didn't like it that way and toned it down, but if you see too mcuh swearing or something you find to graphic please point it out, I will most definatly edit it out or make it less graphic. Finally if you want to tell me what you think BE HARSH I can take it. If you have questions about the plot or any of the like, ask me.

Introduction:

“Mommy,” the little girl said as her mother tucked her into bed pulling her Hannah Montana sheets up over her chest and kissing her on the cheek.

“What’s up sweetheart?” her mother asked smiling.

“How come the only time I have ever seen or heard of grandpa was at his funeral, you never talk about him. Never ever.”

She stared at her mother as she zoned out, her daughter bringing back memories that she had tried to forget all these years.

Chapter One:

“Mister President sir,” the General said standing up and looking the president in the eyes as the joint chiefs listened intently. “They are his daughters!”

“He’s in federal prison,” the national security advisor said slamming his fists on the table. “You can not let your personal feelings for your bestfriend get in the way for doing your job general. I don’t think either one of you should be involved in this decision, he’s your cousin Mister President, and he’s the general’s bestfriend.”

“Excuse me I am doing my job, that’s getting these girls out alive. The best man we have to do this job is sitting in solitary doing time for crimes he probably never actually committed. He’s the best soldier America ever had, and he’s a hero weather you want to admit it or not. He saved our lives, and went to jail for it.”

“What makes him the perfect fit for this job General Smith? Tell me now, give me some legit reasons and not he’s my bestfriend I trust him.”

“Let’s see, when the government finally arrested Death and threw him in prison what was the only thing he cared about? His daughters, he told the FBI he would co-operate if they protected his kids and allowed them to legally become my kids since his wife is dead, and he knew he was going to jail for he rest of his life. He always did anything for the mission, but now it’s high stakes, it’s his daughters who he hasn’t seen in three months, he’s not going to let anything or anyone stop him from getting them out alive. He’s got the background, ten years in the marines, four of those spent commanding the black ops group The Five, he’s stealthy and smart, and he knows how to fight. He’s dealt with hostage situations before on numerous occasions, and only once have those hostages died, and he was thrown in a dungeon for that mistake. He hates terrorists more than anyone, and if he takes out these guys this administration can finally rest in peace.”

“As much as it pains me to say this, we are going to Wyoming General Smith, we’ve got to convince Nate Watson to work for us again,” the president said frowning. “You better hope your right, or heads will role.”

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“Where am I?” a seventeen year old girl said as the drugs wore off and her vision slowly became less blurry. Her head felt like she had just rammed it into a brick wall a thousand times. She looked around seeing her five younger sisters paralyzed and knocked out by some sort of sleeping drugs as they lay on the cold cement floor in god knows where. The last thing she remembered was taking her sisters to buy some ice cream from an ice cream truck shortly after General Smith had left for work. Her legs and arms were still immobile as she looked around the small room, it looked like a storage closet that had been turned into a makeshift prison, the only thing protecting the escape of the girls was a locked metal door and fear, there was one bed, a sink, a toilet, and a prison door. There were three green walls and a small window that let in little light. There was a hanging light, but the bulb was dim, it was dark, bone-chilling and damp. In the left corner of the room was a security camera watching there every move. Her sisters woke up slowly, barely able to push themselves up off the floor as the drugs were still in effect. Her littlest sister looked terrified as she leaned against her shoulder.

“Ashley what’s going on?” She asked her oldest sister. She was no more than eight years old with brown hair that flowed down to her shoulders. She was wearing a pink and white plaid hello kitty skirt and a white hello kitty shirt with pink cuffs and collars. She was the cutest little girl anyone had ever seen.

“I don’t know Makenna,” Ashley said trying hard not to cry. She had blonde hair with pink streaks dyed into it. “I wish I could tell you I really do.” She crawled over to her sister struggling against the sedatives and drugs. Her hair went down to her mid-back she had stunning blue eyes, and she was gorgeous. “It’s okay Kenna I’m not going to let anything happen to you, we are going to be okay.” Makenna’s head lay against Ashley’s shoulders. She was crying as Ashley tried to comfort her, and make her settle down. “Shhh it’ll be okay,” she said. Ashley was wearing baggy faded blue jeans and a baggy grey t-shirt with a large sparkly skull on the side. She had a beanie on, and was wearing a very expensive diamond necklace that her father had bought her before he was arrested. “Where the hell are we,” she muttered as Makenna fell back asleep against her.

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The man sat in solitary confinement at a federal prison in the middle of absolutely nowhere his face buried in his hands as he thought out loud muttering under his breath. He had on the typical prison clothes, as he was confined to a six by nine concrete cell with little more than a slot on the door to dispense trays of food and drink, with no contact with the outside world at all. “You took everything away from me,” the man said. He had dark brown hair the top dyed a fire red. “I shouldn’t be in here, this is torture, I didn’t do anything wrong.” The door creaked and opened slowly as armed guards entered the small room.

“Someone is here to see you Mr. Watson,” the guards said leading him out of the cell and down the hall. He was shown into an interrogation room, his bestfriend General Jake Smith, and his cousin the President of the United States sat across the table. He turned to leave, wanting nothing to do with his cousin.

“Don’t you at least want to hear what we have to say?” the President said with no hint of emotion. He turned around and took a step into the room.

“Not really, but Smith is here and I don’t know if it’s because this is good for me or if it’s because you knew that bringing my bestfriend with you would almost force me to listen.” He stood in the middle of the room staring his bestfriend in the eyes. “Ah WTF anything is better than being stuck in that concrete cell.” General Smith stood up walking over to his friend and looking him square in the eyes. He saw fear, pain, and jealousy, rage and a deep burning and deadly passion that frightened him.

“It’s very important, but it’s not good news, it’s going to piss you off. However, I need to know why you beat the crap out of that prison guard? He’s in the hospital in serious condition, if he did something to you I will personally lock him in solitary and throw away the key, nobody will ever hear from him again.”

“He didn’t do anything worthy of jail time. He stole the pictures I carry with me in my pockets everywhere, you know the one’s of my daughters, and of my cousin and whatever. The pictures that keep me alive, I left them in my cell with the letters I’d received from my little angels, he stole it all. When I asked him about it he responded rudely. I didn’t take to kindly to his answer, and I was already pissed that I’d lost everything that matters to me. I turned and began to walk away and he pushed me so I turned around and struck him in the jaw. He fell to the ground and I couldn’t resist the urge to kill him, so I alternated kicks to the abdomen and forehead until something like five or six of the inmates and guards pulled me off him. The first guard who came was alone when he tried to stop me from my onslaught and I punched him in the face and broke his nose. A bunch of the inmates jumped in and helped the two nearby guards pull me down, I guess they got just a few months left and figured helping the guards would get them out for good behavior I don’t know. Anyways they took me down and threw me into solitary immediately, but nobody talks about my baby girls like he did, nobody. They keep me alive, they are the only reason I am standing here. Anyways who cares, I just want to know why the hell you’re here.”

“We need you to do us a favor, we need you to be a hero,” the President said as the General and ‘Death’ sat back down at the table.

“Let’s think about this for a second. Last time I did a ‘favor’ for you I ended up becoming a ‘murderer’ and a ‘threat to America’ the FBI busted down my front door and arrested me in front of my daughters and than I was thrown in a **** hole never to be seen or heard again. WHY THE HELL WOULD I HELP YOU AGAIN?!”

“Death…” the general began before being quickly cut off.

“Not done yet, sorry. You took everything away from me, and threw me in a federal prison because you knew that I was your only threat. You knew I had the knowledge that would get you kicked out of office instantly and you knew I would use it because it killed 90% of the forces under my command. Therefore you came up with a way to pin the deaths of the forces on me and call it murder throwing me in prison and saving your life and your presidency. The five people that survived the battle, however, are very close friends of mine so you had to shut them up, and you found ways to do that as well, and when they did talk it was just excused as soldiers trying to protect their commander. You knew that throwing me in jail would drive me insane and I would do something stupid or I would try to escape and you had hoped I’d be killed doing it. You knew that if that didn’t happen I’d end up in solitary and that would cause me to go insane because my children mean the world to me and not seeing them causes me to become depressed and suicidal, and you knew eventually I would kill myself and it would happen long before anybody found out what happened was your fault. With the only liable threat out of the way there would be no trial because there would be no evidence because I was the only one who had it. You’re a S.O.B. and I hope you rot in hell. Now give me one good reason to help you, and I want you to say it not Jake.”

“Fine I’ve got six amazing reasons for you to help us out. Your daughters are being held hostage in a storage closet at a secret underground facility by a group of Russians, Cubans, and Islamic coalition forces who work for terrorist organizations in there respective countries and very much hate me. If yo…”

“Shutup, I get the point and you already knew that I couldn’t say no to this. You are a complete *censored* and I hate you. You always find a way to get me to do your *censored* for you.”