The Soldier's Christmas Romance.

Chapter Five.

Chapter Five.



The message on the screen flashed ominously as for the first time since joining the top-secret group of highly trained men and women, neither Leon nor Matt wanted to open it.

“It may be info on your mission,” Leon said, clinging to hope, but knowing there was no way the umpire would contact them via the untraceable encrypted messaging system the game offered, unless it was something else that had reared its ugly head, and was highly urgent.

“We are not going to find out sitting here staring at it,” Matt grumbled, as Leon let out a frustrated sigh, before clicking on the message.

Phantom Ninja 2 – Munchkin 2, load up the Crash Map, follow the invite.

The last tiny shred of hope that this was not a new mission evaporated as Leon saw his unique call sign in the message. He clicked on the invite and joined the ‘Crash Map’ game, placing his headphones on, and shaking his head slightly at Matt, and watched as his brother walked out of the room, into the kitchen, giving Leon the privacy which was expected and required when receiving mission details.

“Who am I?” the deep Scottish accent enquired.

“The Umpire,” Leon said, attempting to keep his tone professional, but given the new Umpire was Stan, a long-time family friend, and another of his ‘uncles’ when he was a kid, he knew he was not fooling the Glaswegian.

“Sorry Leo, but I need to send you out on a mission,” the Umpire declared.

“It is a long one, so I cannot send Matt, given he has his own to attend on the 29th,” he continued, sounding extremely apologetic.

Immediately, Leon flicked the switch that was inside his brain, and morphed from mischievous man, who still had a penchant for acting like a kid, into the highly trained professional he was.

“Sir,” he simply responded, his tone resolute.

“It is a protection detail,” the umpire informed him. Leon closed his eyes, he was missing Christmas with his family, for babysitting duties, however he uttered not a word of his thoughts on that subject.

“Details,” Leon simply responded, the excitement in his eyes fading into the stoic mask of a man sent on a mission.

“Truss. His missing daughter,” the umpire said.

Leon furrowed his brow, unsure what the umpire was referring to.

“Leonard Truss, the up-and-coming MP, with questionable backing. Three years ago, his daughter Safron Truss disappeared. Officially, the Truss family declared that she was heading abroad, to find herself, and information on her birth family to see if she could find a father, after the death of her mother, and wished for privacy,” The Umpire continued.

“However, it came to our attention, that she had not gone off under her own fruition. Leonard had ‘gifted’ her to a human trafficking ring for the rich and famous. We infiltrated that sect of perverts six months ago, and the operative uncovered that she had been potentially killed, by Prince Nabil Aziz. However, after more investigation, we found out that she was not dead, but not far from it, when one of the male servant’s took pity on her, and dumped her badly broken body on the Isle of Ronsay, off the coast of Scotland. I received intelligence that the owners of that island, Hamish and Douglas McDougal found her discarded body and they nursed her back to health, before finding her safe passage back to the mainland. It has taken some time for us to track her, but I have a confirmed sighting from just thirty minutes ago. She is in London, and I am organising for her to be picked up,” the Umpire stated.

“She is a key witness against these fuckers and must be protected at all costs. Also, she is not who she thinks she is,” the Umpire continued.

“Who is she?” Leon asked.

“Classified, even for your ears,” the Umpire stated, as Leon nodded his head, even though Phantom Ninja 2 could not see him.

“Tread carefully on this one. She has experienced more horrors than you can imagine. Also, another issue. Given Truss has access to a list of our safe houses, we have none in the UK to ship her too. Therefore, we have organised transport from the old airstrip, RAF Merryfield, to fly you out to a tiny and secluded island just off cape cod, in Massachusetts. It has 11,000 residents, and remote areas, ideal for this mission. This maybe a babysitting job, but it is the key to bringing down corrupt business leaders, and world leaders, which is why I need the best of the best on this. There is more at stake here than you can ever imagine. Just because you are far away from her adopted family here in England, do not let your guard down, not even for a second,” the umpire’s voice dropped an octave, a clear indication of how serious the mission was.

“When are we leaving?” Leon asked.

“02 hundred hours. I will meet you personally. This information is highly classified. You have 16 hours to prepare,” The umpire stated, then disconnected the VoIP call.

Leon blew out a heavy breath, then headed directly to his room, and began to gather his kit, as Matt followed him.

“How long have you got?” he asked.

“A few hours,” Leon said, not even giving his brother the exact information.

Matt bobbed his head.

“Mam is going to be devastated,” the younger brother muttered under his breath.

“She will rally; she always does. She gets it, as do all our family,” Leon sighed, as he grabbed his spare tactical backpack, filled with everything he might need. He walked to the large picture which hung on his wall. It was one of him and his brother when they were younger, he was holding Mia, and Matt was holding Elizabeth. They were young boys, the girl’s mere babies, the picture taken the day Izzy and Cigs had adopted Elizabeth. He moved the picture, revealing a large safe and armoury, and punched in the code. Leon glanced at the documents inside, choosing a range of alter ego’s for the mission, along with a wad of around three thousand dollars. He knew that there was already a bank account set up, in the USA for missions such as these, under the pseudo name, the umpire would give him, which would be loaded with all the money he could need for the mission. However, it always paid to have cash, and his own documents separated from everyone he worked with, in case he was compromised at any given time. He bundled the cash, and documentation into the black tactical backpack, before grabbing fresh clothing, a first aid kit, and placed a dismantled A2 rifle, ammo, a Cz75 handgun, along with a silencer into the bottom section of the bag, before slinging it over his shoulder.

“I am heading over to Kermit and Kyla’s place. I want to spend time with Mam and Dad before I leave,” Leon simply stated, his blue eyes now ice cold, and emotionless.

He stepped into the thatched cottage, his mother and Kyla laughing in the kitchen preparing food.

“Hey, your Uncle Stan is in the area, no Haley though, he is bobbing in for dinner tonight, and to exchange gifts,” his mother smiled, turning to greet her son. Her smile froze in place when she noted the tactical backpack slung over her youngest boy’s shoulders.

“s**t,” she whispered, the real reason for her friend’s sudden visit now clear and obvious.

Kyla turned to look at Leon, then placed a comforting hand on his mother’s arm. Gathering herself, Vicky turned to the kettle, picking it up and filling it.

“Cup of tea?” she asked, not mentioning the undeniable fact that her full family Christmas was up in smoke.

“Coffee,” Leon simply responded, before heading into the living room, where his father and Kermit were mid game.

“What’s the matter, too scared of the oldies to face us?” Tank teased, chuckling, before turning his attention from the TV screen to his son.

“Oh,” the ex-special forces soldier said, as Kermit turned to look at Leon.

“Be safe,” Kermit stated, as Leon nodded his head. He now had 15 hours, and he was going to enjoy what time he had left with his family. He walked to the Christmas tree, grabbing the gifts for his father, mother, brother, Kermit, and Kyla, handing them out, as Tank grabbed the gift he had for his son.

Leon shook his head.

“Keep it for when I get back,” he stated, as his father bobbed his head in understanding. Each soldier dealt with a mission in their own way. Leon’s was always to have something remain at home, something for him to come back for.