by Gord Rollo
***
Tyrone let the big man’s body slump motionless to the floor. The Marine was relieved to see that the night guard was out like a light but still breathing slowly and regularly. If he’d had to kill him he would have without hesitation but this way gave them just as much of an advantage and was one less death on his already overburdened conscience.
“Do you think that vill keep him out for long? He’s a big man; the drugs may not knock him out for as long as they might you or I.”
“No worries, Henrik. Binoctal are actually made by combining two other powerful barbiturates. They’re badass. One pill would make us trip for an hour and I gave him five. I was more worried that doze would kill him than I am of him waking up anytime soon. No, he’ll be out for seven or eight hours I’ll bet.”
“Hope so. Okay, vat now?”
“Help me drag him into the corner in case another guard comes looking. Then we’ll grab his keys and lock him in here. Hopefully I didn’t bugger up the lock using the army knife to get it open.”
“Can I keep his stun stick? It’s a crude veapon but better than nothing.”
“Sure…I don’t even know what it is. Is that an electrode on the end of it?”
“Ya, it’s usually charged for at least twenty strikes. After that it’s just a normal club. The guards use them to keep the peace around here but most of the time they just like to zap people for the fun of it. Bastards! Maybe I’ll get a chance to give some of them a taste of their own medicine.”
“You just might. Okay, let’s get going. Remember to follow my lead. We want to avoid confrontation completely if we can. We grab Tommy and we get across that bridge as quickly and quietly as we can. Someone sounds the alarm and we wake up the witch, we’re fucked. Got it?”
Henrik nodded his head.
“Good. Let’s roll.
14
Tyrone moved down the dimly lit corridor with Henrik following close behind. They easily found one of the winding staircase descending down to the lower levels and took the wide stone stairs slowly but steadily, listening every few steps for the sound of approaching men. Fortunately luck was on their side and they made it all the way to the eighth floor without encountering anyone. The Marine paused outside the arched doorway leading to the cell corridor and whispered to his new friend.
“Any idea how many guards would normally be roaming around in the middle of the night like this? One a floor, maybe?”
“No idea. Sounds about right, though. Be careful.”
The Marine nodded and silently slipped through the archway onto Level – H, his estranged brother’s room agonizingly close now but Tyrone had no idea which of the dozens of cells might be holding him. He had the night guard’s keychain with him and was reasonably sure they were a master set that would unlock any of the doors but it would take far too long to go cell to cell, opening every door along the way. Besides, they’d wake everyone up and cause a hell of a ruckus that would bring guards running from all over the place. No, there had to be a better way.
Tommy? he tried, tentatively trying to find the elusive mind connection the twin brothers seemed to intermittently share. Wake up, man! Where are you?
There was no response. Tyrone and Henrik slowly crept to the first door and peered inside but neither of them could make out anything but shadows in the dark cell. They could be standing outside the correct room and had no way of knowing it. Frustrated, Tyrone willed himself to relax, closing his eyes and trying to imagine his beloved brother standing beside him in his mind. He reached out in his imagination, Marine to Marine, brother to brother, and felt a tiny mental connection take place within his mind. A previously closed door opened in his brain and Tyrone wasted no time stepping through it. Tommy? he tried again, feeling how much stronger and clearer their connection was now. Answer me, bro!
He was immediately rewarded with a response.
Ty? That really you this time…or am I dreaming?
It’s me, T, and I’m coming to rescue you. Which cell are you in?
Henrik poked Tyrone in the arm, not being able to hear the silent exchange between the twins and wondering why they had stopped in the middle of the hall. The Marine gestured for the young Swede to take it easy, putting a finger to his lips to tell him to remain quiet.
What? You mean you’re here…in Tartarus? I thought I felt a connection to you a few times but was never sure if it was real. When did you die? And what do you mean you’re here to rescue me?
Easy, bro, Tyrone spoke softly into his brother’s mind. They’ll be time for questions later. Right now we’re on a bit of a tight schedule and have to get our ass out of here before the shit hits the fan. What cell are you in?
I’m not really sure. They aren’t numbered I don’t think.
Fine, quietly walk to the door and stick your arm out into the hall through the bars. We’ll find you.
We? You got the whole damn patrol with you?
That remark put a smile on Tyrone’s face. I wish, bro. No, just me and a friend. Get your ass over to the bars.
“He’s down this way,” Tyrone leaned close and whispered to Henrik.
“How do you know that?”
“Just trust me. It’s complicated.”
Tyrone and Henrik slowly made their way down the gloomy corridor, always listening for the sound of approaching footsteps but so far there was no one in sight. Twenty more steps and Tyrone started to see movement up ahead and with two more paces he could clearly make out a bare black-skinned arm waving up and down from within one of the cells along the left side of the hall.
I see you, bro. I’m coming.
Henrik tapped the Marine on his shoulder, excitedly pointing to where Tommy was still waving his arm. Tyrone only nodded, not having the time to waste trying to explain he was way ahead of his friend. Together they closed the distance and soon stood in front of the barred doorway to Tommy’s cell. It was dark within the room so Tyrone still couldn’t get a decent look at his brother. Not yet, anyway. Using the guard’s keys he set about unlocking the door as quietly as he could manage, eager to lay eyes on his Tommy for the first time in a couple of months, ever since that awful day when he’d…
Probably best not to think about that right now.
It wasn’t until he tried the third master key that the locking mechanism clicked free, and Tyrone wasted no time in yanking open the cell door. Tommy flew out of the dark opening and punched Tyrone right in the mouth, nearly dropping the Marine to his knees with the solid impact. Tyrone stifled a scream, taking the punch and standing back to his feet.
“That was for shooting me back in Nam, you stupid son of a bitch,” Tommy said, not as quietly as he probably should have. He then grabbed Tyrone and pulled him close, savagely hugging his twin in the same bear hug he used to when they’d been separated too long back when they’d been kids.
“And that’s for coming to get me.”
The punch already forgotten – he’d deserved that and more for what he’d done – Tyrone hugged his brother back, his emotions welling up inside as he reached up to feel the letter ‘T’ crudely shaved into the back of Tommy’s stubbly hair. His brother was thin as a rail and looked like he’d been beaten and tortured recently – every cut, every scrape, every bruise one hundred percent Tyrone’s fault. If not for his sheer stupidity in ‘Nam, Tommy would still be alive and looking forward to a long happy life back in the States, maybe even returning home as the hero they’d both dreamed of being. Now look what the future held for him. Somehow, someway, Tyrone had to find a way to make things right between them. A single tear rolled down his dirty face, a river of repressed shame threatening to pour down his cheeks if he let it happen.
“Listen, Tommy. I…I don’t know how to even start to tell you how sorry I am for what happened--”
Tommy grabbed his twin by the ears and pulled his face in close to his. “Don’t you dare, Ty. Not now; not ever. We both know shit happens and that’s the truth. It could just as easily have been me
that fucked up that day. I’ve never blamed you so don’t you dare blame yourself. I’m just glad you’re here. I missed you, man. Thanks for coming.”
“I missed you too, Tommy, but don’t thank me until I can get you somewhere safe. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover before then.”
“Where we going? Is anywhere around this damn place safe?”
“Only one place I can think of…Heaven.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Tommy said, but from the serious look on his brother’s face he knew that Tyrone wasn’t. “Don’t want to rain on the rescue here, bro, but there’s something you need to know. My judgment came through and I don’t think I’ll get much of a welcome in Heaven; even if we can somehow find a way to get there.”
“I don’t have time to explain but that might not be true. I know about your judgment but Henrik here tells me the witch’s rulings are bogus a lot of the time. You might be getting screwed and I’m thinking either way it’s better to get the decision from the Man himself, know what I mean?”
Tommy thought things through as he shook Henrik’s hand, a glimmer of hope showing on his gaunt, withered face. “I guess it can’t hurt.”
“Come on guys…there’s no time to vaist,” Henrik said. “Let’s make for the bridge before it’s too late. That guard has to be around here somewhere.”
“You’re right,” Tyrone said. ‘One floor down, right? Which is the best staircase?”
“The one ve just came from.”
“Okay, single file and keep your mouths shut.”
Henrik and Tommy both nodded their heads, falling into step behind Tyrone as he moved back down the same corridor they’d already walked along.
Hey Tyrone? Tommy whispered in his brother’s mind. It made perfect sense to stay quiet but for them at least, that didn’t mean they couldn’t talk to each other as they walked.
What’s up? Tyrone answered.
Why do you think we can do this? Communicate without speaking, I mean? It’s impossible, isn’t it?
Don’t know. Haven’t had time to mull it over yet. Up until a few minutes ago I thought I was going crazy. Gotta be because we’re twins, right? Naturally connected somehow. Something like that, anyway. Let’s worry about it once we get out of here.
Fair enough. You’re looking good, by the way. Death must really suit you.
Screw you, bro, Tyrone said, knowing he looked like crap; a smile on his face as him and his brother easily fell back into their normal routine of making fun of each other. They’d been doing it their whole life; why stop now? You’re one to talk. Had a look in the mirror lately? You look like the scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz, you’re so damn skinny!
Tyrone looked back over his shoulder as they continued to walk along the eighth floor corridor, wanting to see if he’d managed to put a smile on his twin’s face, but just as he was at his most vulnerable a cell door swung open in front of him and the Marine walked right into the side of a tall greasy haired guard who was busy buckling up his pants as he exited the room. Within the darkened cell, the sound of a woman weeping could be heard but the group of escaping men had more important things to worry about at the moment.
The night guard on this level was lean and fast, pulling his stun stick in an instant and prepared to bash Tyrone over the head with the electrically charged weapon. The Marine’s hand were at his side and by the time he turned back around to see who he’d ran into it was too late to defend himself. Luckily for him, Henrik hadn’t been part of the brothers’ silent conversation and had kept his wits about him, on guard for any signs of danger. When the cell door had swung open, Henrik was already moving into a defensive position and in place to get the drop on the new arrival. As the guard prepared to beat Tyrone senseless, Henrik stepped forward and poked the man hard in the sternum, unleashing a powerful electric charge into his ribcage, lungs and heart. The guard cried out in pain, but his eyes were already rolling back into his head and he crumpled to the floor without another sound.
“Son of a bitch!” Tyrone said. “I didn’t hear the door opening. Thanks, man.”
“You’re velcome. Let’s get him out of the hall, though.”
Tommy grabbed the limp guard under his armpits and began dragging him into the cell he’d just exited from. Henrik and Tyrone followed him inside. “How long do you think he’ll be out?”
“I’m not sure. An hour. Maybe two.”
“Shit,” Tyrone said. “That’s not going to be long enough, Tommy. We need time to get a decent head start before they come after us. Take care of it.”
Tommy nodded, and without hesitating shifted his grip from beneath the guard’s arms to around his throat. With a sharp twist, he snapped the sleeping man’s neck, the sound sickeningly loud in the confined space.
“Vat the hell do you think you’re doing?” Henrik said; shocked at how easily the Marine had taken the guard’s life. Tyrone stepped in to defend his brother.
“He’s doing what I told him to do; what he needed to do for all of us. I told you we were going to war, friend. Better get used to it.”
Henrik simply nodded his head, perhaps not trusting himself to speak right now. It was one thing to talk about taking someone’s life in battle but quite another to actually see it happen. Tyrone hoped the young Swede would understand.
A noise came from the corner of the cell, a whimper that Tyrone presumed had come from the woman they’d heard crying a few minutes ago. When he turned to reassure the woman that everything was fine, he received the shock of his life.
Two of them, actually.
Oh my God! It can’t be them…it can’t be!
But it was. A skeletal thin Vietnamese woman cowered back into the furthest corner of the room but it wasn’t her making the noise. The whimpering was coming from the small boy huddling in her lap. The scar on the right side of his face had healed for the most part, but the thick red welt running through his ruined eye from his cheek to eyebrow was a dead giveaway and there was no doubt in Tyrone’s mind about who these two people were.
Can’t be who? Tommy tried to ask, but Tyrone wasn’t paying attention, his mind far far away back in the village of Ami Ba where he’s first met this mother and child. There was no mistake or trick of the dim lighting, either; he’d been haunted by their faces nearly every day and night – especially the poor injured boy’s – and this was definitely them. How could that be? How could he possibly run into this same family again in the afterlife? It was impossible, wasn’t it? And just after meeting Tommy too. The chances of Tyrone meeting the three people he suffered such terrible guilt over what he’d done to them back on Earth was astronomical. One in a million. Maybe one in a billion.
But then it hit the Marine like a hard slap in the face.
Maybe it isn’t a coincidence. Maybe this is exactly what’s supposed to happen…the reason why I’m here in the first place.
What are you talking about, Ty? Tommy tried again, but his brother ignored him again, lost in his own revelatory thoughts.
It made perfect sense to Tyrone. He wasn’t just here to save his brother; his mission was bigger than that. If he had any hope of repairing the damage he’d done and ever cleansing his tainted soul he owed this woman and her poor child the same duty he owed Tommy. Maybe even more. The burden fell on his shoulders to get this family to safety as well. That was why they were here. Coincidences be damned.
This meeting wasn’t by chance; it was destiny.
“We have to take this mother and boy with us?”
“Vat?” Henrik said, his mouth dropping open. “Are you insane?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Tommy asked.
“No. I’ve never been more serious in my life. I owe them.”
“Owe them vat?”
“Everything. I’m the reason they’re here. I killed them both back in ‘Nam and it’s haunted me ever since. I’m not leaving them here to rot in this terrible place…or be sent somewhere worse. That’s not happening; not as long as I can do so
mething about it.”
Tommy and Henrik glanced at each other, both shrugging their shoulders unsure what Tyrone was talking about.
Tyrone ignored their confused stares and walked over closer to the Vietnamese family, his hands held up in a submissive manner to show that he meant them no harm. Regardless, the woman began to wail in fear and the boy buried his one remaining good eye in his mother’s side, literally shaking with terror. The mother had more than likely just been raped by the greasy haired guard and they’d both probably been tortured and abused since they’d arrived here, so it was only natural that they were afraid of any man who might approach them. Either that or perhaps they too recognized Tyrone, the way he had known them. If that was the case, no wonder they seemed so scared. Back in his CAP training, he’d been taught some of their language so the platoon could communicate with the locals on a rudimentary basis. He didn’t know or understand much, but he was determined to break through their fear and get them to follow him out the door.
He said, “Khong so,” which he hoped was Vietnamese for ‘don’t be afraid’. Then he pointed to himself and his two companions and told her they were here as ‘friends’. “Ban be.” Tyrone repeated the word several more times, hoping the mother would understand. The boy was still whimpering softly but the mother had stopped crying. She had her head up, staring at the three men standing in her cell and also glancing at the dead guard slumped near her on the floor.
Tyrone tried one of the standard lines he’d been told to say to any of the local Vietnamese people he ran into back in the villages they were trying to support. “Chung toi o day de giup ban.” His dialect and pronunciation was probably atrocious but hopefully she knew he’d said ‘We’re here to help you’.
The woman just stared at him, making no response at all.
“Come on, Ty,” Tommy said, worry creeping into his voice. “We don’t have time for this shit. I don’t think she doesn’t understands you and even if she does, she’s not your problem. You can’t save the whole--”
