Free Easy Day for the Dead by Howard E. Wasdin and Stephen Templin

“We’ve got company.”
    Leila looked in her rearview mirror. “It is him.”
    â€œHim?” Alex asked.
    She repeatedly glanced in the rearview mirror. “It is the basiji.”
    â€œAre you sure?” Alex asked.
    â€œYes. I think.”
    â€œYou think. So it might be someone else.”
    â€œWhat should I do?”
    â€œJust keep driving normal. Ignore him.”
    Leila did.
    Alex glanced behind. The vehicle’s lights came closer. Then the driver honked the horn and flashed the lights. Not good. As the vehicle neared, Alex could see it was a red SUV. The SUV pulled up beside them on the left, still honking and flashing its lights. The driver leaned out and shouted something in Farsi.
    â€œIt is him. He wants us to stop,” Leila translated.
    â€œStop, but don’t turn your car engine off.”
    She slowed to a stop. Leila kept the engine running. She seemed to be keeping her cool.
    The basiji stalker stopped his vehicle, too, turned off the engine, stepped out, and approached Leila. Two other occupants remained in the vehicle. The basiji stalker was a handsome man. His eyes squinted at the SEALs, then at Leila.
    Alex readied his AKMS rifle. He knew his Teammates were doing the same. A great SEAL op often didn’t involve shooting. Usually a perfect op was one where the SEALs crept in, accomplished their mission, and sneaked out without anyone knowing. If this guy sucked them into a firefight before accomplishing their mission, the SEALs might not have enough ammo to reach the target, let alone enough ammo for going home. This is looking less and less like a perfect op.
    Although Leila remained calm, the basiji stalker became louder and louder. He shook his fist. The calmer Leila remained, the more infuriated he became. The stalker moved over to Alex’s window and started shouting at him and waving his AK-47. I don’t have time for this.
    The basiji stalker pulled on Alex’s door handle, opening it.
    â€œLeila, keep the engine running,” Alex said. “John, come with me.”
    The basiji stalker’s jaw dropped at the sound of Alex speaking English.
    Alex fired a single shot up through the basiji stalker’s jaw that burst out the top of his head.
    The basiji stalker collapsed in the sand, and Alex fired a second shot in the stalker’s head before walking toward the other vehicle. Alex had no idea who was in the red SUV, but they shouldn’t have been out so late, and they shouldn’t have been hanging out with the basiji stalker. If you mix with crimson, you become crimson.
    The basiji stalker probably had the vehicle keys with him, and his friends couldn’t drive away. Both were in the backseat. They could’ve stepped out of the vehicle and tried to make a run for it, but they didn’t. If the one closest to Alex and John were armed, he could’ve shot at them through the window, but he began rolling it down.
    Alex and John walked forward, shooting through the window at the silhouettes in the SUV. Alex fired so fast, it sounded as if he were shooting two-round bursts, but he controlled each shot. Although Alex fired fast, John fired faster. Alex pinpointed the bodies, but John pinpointed the pinpoints. The basiji’s friends hip-hopped on the backseat like street dancers on cocaine. When the two SEALs reached the vehicle, the bodies were still twitching. Alex and John administered the coup de grace, each putting one final bullet in a head. The basiji’s friends still held their AK-47s in their hands. Instead of shooting through the window, they’d tried to save it by rolling it down; but in the end, they lost the window and their lives.
    Alex and John returned to Leila’s vehicle. As soon as Alex and John were seated, Leila didn’t wait for them to shut the doors; she sped away. Alex and John closed their doors.
    â€œTake us back to the village, then exit from the southwest,” Alex said.