"But I love you!" Deshavi said looking miserable.
"I love you too darling, but this is the way it's got to be!" Trent started to turn away, but Deshavi grabbed a hold of his neck and kissed him.
I understood her emotion, but bullets were cooking. I helped pull Deshavi loose and Trent said, "This isn't goodbye Deshavi!"
We left her there crying with the rope clutched in her hands.
Adrenaline pumping through my old veins helped me churn my way through the deep snow, as I made my way around the hill and through the forest, as fast as I could go. Bullets started going off and then a mass volley of fire erupted. The sound of the gunfire further aided me in my mad dash through the deep snow. I wasn't going to let Trent face this fight alone.
Huffing and puffing I kicked my way down hill to the forest's edge. Trying to gather my breath, as my heart felt like it was about to pound out of my chest, I peered around the trunk of a tree. My grip on my rifle was sweaty despite the cold.
Several snowmobiles were pulled up and about fifteen men stood in a semicircle around the front of the dugout filling it full of lead. Trent must've put the fragile dynamite up higher than I had imagined he could have, because the dugout was literally riddled with holes everywhere. It actually looked like it was on the point of collapse.
The heavy firing finally ceased.
I glanced at the snowmobiles. They would have needed a transport chopper to bring those along. They must've set it down in a clearing back a ways from us. Mentally I was ticking off the seconds, as Deshavi would be doing right now. Two men detached from the group and approached the dugout's shattered door. They kicked it inward and stepped inside. They were gone for a moment, but then reappeared and started to say something to those gathered outside, when the dugout blew sky high.
The two men were instantly vaporized in the fiery blast, even as the thirteen remaining men were knocked flat into the snow. I didn't waste a moment in adding to the death toll. I started firing upon the downed men, even as another rifle belched flame from the tree line at the opposite side of the clearing.
The men caught out in the open tried to recover, but rose only to be ripped apart, as their blood sprayed outward to stain the snow crimson. It was over in a minute or less.
I shifted away from the tree I had been leaning against just as a bullet slammed into it were my head had just been. I wheeled around firing from the hip and caught a native looking man with several bullets to the chest. He would have been one of the trackers, which meant there could still be more scouts out in the forest!