Read Online The Protocol: A Prescription to Die by John P. Goetz - Free Book Online Page A

towards the ground. He returned his attention to the crazed suicide bomber running in his direction.
    “Stop!” he yelled in Pashto then again in English. His voice boomed across the field.
    The locals in the crowd had experience in suicide bombings, and knew what was going to happen. They had no intention of being heroes. They all scattered in directions away from the area closest to the kids. Not a single parent came to rescue a child. The kids didn’t run, but stayed huddled behind their coach. Their trust was with him, and no one else. He was Big Sergeant Butch, after all.
    Butch pulled out his gun, assumed the proper firing stance, and took aim. He gave the man one more chance and yelled again, “Stop! Get on the ground!”
    The man kept running. And yelling. His thumb still on the button.
    Butch pulled the trigger and planted a bullet into the ground in front of the approaching bomber. Dirt sprayed the man’s face. Granite splinters drew blood. The bomber wiped his face clean with the hand holding the trigger. The wires tightened.
    The adrenaline pulsing through the man’s body must have been toxic; he was undeterred, hell-bent on the one-way trip to Paradise. The distance between the C4 and the kids was quickly becoming smaller.
    “Stop!” Butch warned again as he adjusted his aim upwards.
    Again, there was no response. He was just getting closer. Every second Butch hesitated took time away from ensuring the safety of the kids. He could hear cameras clicking in the background.
    The bomber made Butch’s decision simple as he screamed again and raised his hand that held the trigger.
    Butch pulled his trigger again, and made a lead deposit into the bomber’s head. Based on the resulting explosion and pink mist that puffed behind him, Butch was certain the he was dead before he hit the ground. Luckily his reflexes didn’t have time to push the button before he died.
    Butch immediately turned to the kids and took inventory. His team was safe, and every child was accounted for. No one was hurt. A small boy he had affectionately named Digger clung to his leg, crying, wiping snot on his uniform. Butch knelt down and calmed his team. He cupped each face within his hands.
    “Good?” he said as he moved from face to face. He tried to smile.
    Each child shook his head. Some still in tears. Most through quivering fear.
    There was a slight problem though. The man wasn’t wearing pounds of C4 on his chest. It was only a decoy of cardboard and duct tape. The man wasn’t a suicide bomber. He simply wanted to commit suicide at the hands of an American in front of the American media.
    Butch Rheumy was his victim.

Chapter 11
    Carl had always held a fascination with death. He preferred watching people anticipate the event rather than dealing with its aftermath as he had to now. Watching death had always provided him with an almost sexual release. Working where he did now, death had already taken place, and the corpses didn’t even put a bump in his heart rate.
    Where was the fun in that?
    The dead were already dead. They didn’t react. Watching the surprise in a person’s eyes when he realized that death was mere moments away? That was an adrenaline rush beyond words, and was something that could still make his heart beat faster.
    He started with his mother’s cats when he was ten. To her dying day, his mother never knew why all of her cats ran away so frequently.
    “Running away” was such a broad term.
    Carl enjoyed himself growing up.
    His mother’s cats didn’t.
    Carl looked down at his arm and ran his finger against the long scar that travelled from his wrist to the pit of his elbow. He’d never known a cat’s back claws were as strong as that tom’s had been. It hurt like a bitch for a week after he was scratched, and it even became infected, but what he did to the cat, he was sure, hurt just as much, perhaps more, but definitely not as long.
    He started off slowly and experimentally. He’d take the latest