Breaking Point By Katherine Rochholz Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved

Everybody has a breaking point.  Everybody.  Even I do.  Mine may be higher then most, but they are about to push me to my point.  When that point is reached, stay out of my way.  My advice? HIDE.  RUN.  DIE.

The day started out like any other, well like any other these last twelve months.  I came back from my latest tour of duty, and my husband celebrated in true style the night I came back.  We had gorgeous twins, named after our parents.  I just had a doctor’s appointment giving me the okay to go back to work if wanted too and was at home cooking dinner, waiting for my family to come home when the phone rang. 

The chills ran down my back.  It was my cell phone that was ringing.  The number of people that know that number, I could count on one hand, the reasons they would call that number needed only two fingers.  And I know we hadn’t declared war.  So it meant I had lost someone.  I picked up the phone that was never more than a few inches from me, and said “hello.”  I listened to what seemed forever, though it was only moments.  In moments my world fell apart.

            My husband, brother, and my children were killed; the message left with their bodies was to me.  Telling me I killed their family they killed mine, and I was next.  Well I was not going to allow that to happen.  I went to my study, I went right up to the wall, were there was a keypad, I put in my code and the wall opened.  Revealing my weapons,

            I knew if I didn’t kill this team of killers then they wouldn’t stop until I was dead.  They already took my life.  They didn’t realize they also made the biggest mistake of theirs.  I called my contact back and asked for all the information we had on the team.  I was told they had always left the country going into South America.  I knew I would follow.

            I grabbed all I needed and jumped into my truck and was off before my cell phone rang again, with my boss telling me to stay put.  Just twenty four later the hunt was on, as I stepped of the plane in Brasilia.  Within just a few hours I found someone willing to sell out the group of people that took my life from me.  I knew that going into the warehouse I was standing outside of was suicide but what did I have to live for?

            For the night I just stared at the building that I knew held the people that had destroyed my soul.  That had caused me to reach my breaking point.  I knew if I did what I did, I might be facing some really serious charges, regardless of the fact I was a jarhead, but I might be in more trouble by being who I was, then if I had been a normal civilian.  I also knew that I had a five hour window.  I had five hours to make it out of Brazil after I killed the group of men in that warehouse.  That is if I made it out alive.

            I walked right into the warehouse with my guns pulled, within moments there was nothing but the sounds of guns shooting and the flash of the bullets leaving the guns.  I felt them miss me, and I could see mine hitting my targets.  I was down to the last guy when a bullet got me in my left shoulder, and I knew it was bad.  I continued searching for him, when I heard babies crying.

            “LEAVE!  Or I kill them.”  The man, whose eyes were blacker then his soul with hair to match, stepped out from behind the shadows and I felt my heart stop.  My babies, they were alive.

            “Put them down and I will allow you to walk away.”  I stated knowing even as the words left my mouth they were a lie.

            “I want you guns on the floor.”

            “Fine.”  I stated putting all my guns on the ground.

            “I know with that wound you won’t get far!”  He put the children on the ground and started running to the door.

            I looked at my children, knowing that they allowed me to think them dead; they had killed my husband and my brother.  I pulled a knife from my sleeve and threw it.  It seemed like time stopped, even for just that moment it did, as I watched my knife hit him in the back of the neck.  He fell to the ground and struggled to take his last breaths.  All too soon the silence filled the warehouse.  The only sounds were the breathing of my children and the heavy breathing of myself.  And I knew I had a serious wound that would need immediate attention, but I didn’t have that luxury.  I needed to get my children and myself out of Brazil.

            I pulled another knife out of my sleeve and as I started the fire that would burn the warehouse down I put the knife in the flame then touched it to my wound, feeling the pain of the burn, knowing it was my only real chance of making sure my children made it out of Brazil.  After that I grabbed my children and walked out of the warehouse, as the flames consumed it.

            It didn’t take me long to get home, after all I had left the weapons I had brought in the warehouse.  As soon as I landed in Dallas, my boss was there to meet me.  “General.”  I stated saluting him. 

            “Gunny, only you could bring down who you did.  Now off to the hospital with you and your children.  Next time pick up the phone.  You would have known your children were alive.  We were going after them.”

            “There will be no next time sure.”  I stated as they loaded me and my children into the ambulance.  “No there won’t be a next time.”  I laid back and smiled at the only two people in my life that could save my soul.  Or cause me to break and lose it.

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