by CV Silk
It was a gunshot wound.
A million thoughts zoomed through his head. If the tapir had been shot then it had been placed in the middle of the road deliberately. That was a basic ambush technique.
His heart racing, he lifted his shirt up and reached for the pistol holstered in the small of his back. But it was too late. He heard movement behind him. As he turned to look, he saw five men in camouflage battle gear emerge from the jungle.
Kathleen saw it too and Palmer heard her scream out a warning. He didn’t have time to draw his weapon before a rebel hit him square in the face with the butt of his rifle.
He collapsed in the mud and all his strength vanished. He glimpsed shadows going to the truck and pulling out Kathleen as she kicked and screamed. It was gut-wrenching and a second later he passed out.
Chapter 7
It was still raining when Palmer woke up. He had the mother of all headaches but he was glad to be alive. In his experience, aches and pains only served to remind you that you weren’t dead and that counted for something.
He was relieved to find that although he had a bump on his forehead, there was no blood, but he was devastated that this hadn’t been a nightmare. This was real. The pickup truck was empty and Kathleen was gone. They had snatched her so fast that they hadn’t even taken his gun.
There was no time for feeling sorry for himself. He had a job to do. He brushed away his worry and bruised ego and ran back toward town. This had happened because he had let his guard down, had softened around that woman. It might have very well cost Kathleen her life.
It took almost an hour but he finally reached the village. The locals looked at him with curiosity, the expression on his face almost frightening. He ignored them and ran into his house where he got his satellite phone.
He was on the line with Greenbrier for less than ten seconds when he said the phrase he’d never wanted to say. “Principal is echo kilo.”
Echo kilo stood for the letters E and K which in turn meant express kidnapping. The term was usually reserved for short-term abductions, often where the bad guys forced the hostage to do something quickly like get money out of their ATM. However, at Greenbrier speaking this code was standard operating procedure before they knew they had a genuine kidnap-and-ransom situation.
Palmer had no doubt it was the case, though. Kathleen’s father was worth several billions and the Burmese jungle teemed with rebel groups looking for a quick payout. Given the importance of the client, he requested a rapid deployment team and it was granted on the spot.
While he broke out his tactical gear and got dressed for battle – even though his men wouldn’t join him for about 12 hours – he started thinking like an investigator. This wasn’t some random snatch-and-grab. Everything about the event, from the impressive manpower to the road being blocked, screamed professional planning.
How could they have known Kathleen was going to drive on that road today?
Palmer was already sweating under the tactical vest when the answer smashed him in the face. He holstered his pistol and cracked his knuckles before leaving his house. He was about to turn to one of the elders and ask to rent his horse for the day when fate finally smiled at him.
He spotted Bryce sitting under a lean-to and smoking a bong. The young man started to fidget before remembering to smile.
“Hey, man. I just got here and I’m looking for Kathleen. Have you seen her?”
Palmer marched toward him.
“You tell me.”
Before he could answer, he grabbed him by his T-shirt and slammed him against the wall.
“Ow, what’s your problem?”
“My problem is that you did a very stupid thing. How much did they pay you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.”
“You have five seconds before I break your finger and another five before I shoot off your nuts. One…”
“I don’t know anything!”
“Two. Who took her? Three. Where’d they take her?”
“Lay off, man.”
“Four. How much did they pay you to set her up?”
Palmer didn’t count all the way to five because in reality it was closer to 8 seconds. He swiftly grabbed Bryce’s left pinky and snapped it.
The kid screamed and tried to wrench himself free but the soldier of fortune still held him in place. “Fuck!”
“Are you gonna talk now or do I have to blow your fucking balls off? Five seconds.” Pinning Bryce to the wall with his left forearm, he drew his pistol and poked it between his legs. “One…”
“Stop, stop! I’ll talk, I’ll tell you everything!”
“Two…”
“They gave me five thousand bucks and a pound of weed, man! They said they just wanted to talk to Kathleen, that’s all!”
“Who are they?”
Bryce was crying and torn between looking at his broken finger and the weapon pointed at his testicles. “I don’t know…”
“You’ve been here for months, you know them, stop dicking me around.”
“I swear, man.”
“Oh you do? You wanna play the five-second game again?”
Palmer shoved the gun harder in Bryce’s nuts and he yelped.
“Okay, okay! It’s not like they gave me a business card or anything, but I think it’s the Leopard Brotherhood.”
“One to ten, how sure are you?”
There was a pause and then Bryce bowed his head as he recognized his fate. “Ten.”
Palmer let go of him and holstered his gun since there was no more information to gather from him. The kidnappers wouldn’t have told him where they were hiding out. As he turned to leave, he noticed that most of the villagers had amassed to see what was going on.
Summoning his rudimentary Burmese, Palmer addressed everyone. “This man sold Kathleen to the rebels. You decide what kind of justice he deserves.”
He strode away as he noticed the crowd bristling. These were people Kathleen had helped, had nursed back to health, people whose children she had taught. They genuinely loved her as their own and he was confident whatever they chose to do to Bryce would be appropriate.
* * *
In the middle of the night, under a light rain, Palmer was finally in position outside of the main camp of the Leopard Brotherhood. While waiting for his team to be flown in, he had read everything he knew about the organization. The intel came courtesy of Greenbrier’s extensive library on possible threats and world events.
“This is Hiker 1, I need a sitrep.”
“Hiker 2 in position.”
“Hiker 3 in position.”
“Hiker 4 in position.”
“Skyscraper, what do you see?”
“This is Skyscraper. I have two tangos on the west flank, they look sleepy.”
“Roger, Skyscraper. Hold for now.” Palmer switched channels on his radio. “Condor, this is Hiker 1.”
“Copy, Hiker 1.”
“Condor, you are go for Operation Sparkle. I repeat, you are go for Operation Sparkle.”
“Roger, Hiker 1. I am go for Operation Sparkle. Good luck to you, sir.”
It took less than ten seconds to hear the helicopter breaking through the rain. It lost altitude and swooped low over the rebel camp. The point was to make itself be heard. On cue, the two sentries became alert and started shouting for their people to wake up.
But the chopper continued on its way, going over a small hill. It was out of view but before long an explosion rocked the jungle. This was all according to plan as the pilot fired a couple of rockets into their poppy fields.
The fireball rose above the hill and the ensuing light gave a good view of the camp to Palmer. It was mayhem as the two dozen or so men ran around not knowing what to do, not quite fully dressed. At last, their commanding officer shouted orders and they took off toward the explosion.
Palmer didn’t have to talk to the pilot again since the mission parameters were clear. He had to keep the helicopter close enough
to be heard and make the bandits panic. So now it was time to rescue Kathleen.
“This is Hiker 1. Execute, execute, execute!”
Chapter 8
The team was in a half-moon formation when they emerged from the jungle and ran toward the camp. The place was made up of a series of old tents and shabby huts and at the moment everything was still. Nevertheless, Palmer had his men outfit their weapons with sound suppressors.
“This is Skyscraper, you have a straggler on the northwest corner. I don’t have a shot from here.”
Palmer couldn’t speak for fear of being heard so he clicked his radio twice to acknowledge. He shouldered his rifle and rounded a pig pen. Just as predicted, there was a short Burmese man in the process of lighting a cigarette.
His eyes grew wide when he saw the intruder and he dropped his smoke as he reached for his AK-47. He didn’t even have time to put it against his shoulder when Palmer shot him twice in the chest.
“Good shot, Hiker 1. You’re clear.”
From there, they went two by two. There were only a few rebels left at the camp and they were easily disposed of. Time seemed to stretch forever, Palmer’s heart thumping madly at the prospect of seeing Kathleen again.
The more time passed, the more nervous he became. It wasn’t just fear that she was dead – she was much more valuable alive – but rather that it forced him to confront his feelings.
He was flabbergasted when he realized he was actually in love with her.
This discovery did nothing to settle his nerves or slow down his heart rate. He hadn’t felt this way about anyone in so long. In fact, he had never felt so strongly about a woman before. It was catching him by surprise and he didn’t know whether to rejoice or bemoan the situation.
He blinked twice and told himself to get his head back in the game. They continued clearing the camp, walking stealthily through the night. The sniper directed the mercenaries to a building in the back. It was sturdier than the rest of the structures. This had to be the prison holding Kathleen.
“You have one tango in front,” Skyscraper said. “He seems more alert than the others.”
By now, all four men were together. They were kneeling behind a dark tent. Palmer pointed at his SAS friend and did a series of hand signals. The Englishman nodded and scurried to the other side of the tent.
He fired a few shots into the ground, the sound muffled by the suppressor, and the guard spun on its heels, startled and afraid.
At exactly that moment, Palmer and the two other men came out of hiding from the other side and shot the distracted man dead.
“You’re clear, guys.”
Palmer was the first to reach the makeshift jail cell. There was a padlock on the door and he busted it with the butt of his rifle. He pulled the door open and quickly entered.
“Kathleen?”
He clicked his flashlight on and pointed it at a figure on the ground. Only the person had dark hair and was a man.
“Who are you? Where’s Kathleen?”
The man was in his early 20s and he reeked of alcohol. Palmer understood he had been put in the drunk tank.
“Answer me, you cocksucker! Where’s the woman?”
He kicked him in the stomach and put his gun in his face. When the bandit was done wincing and moaning, he smiled defiantly.
“You too late.”
“What do you mean, too late? Talk or I blow your fucking head off.”
“Too late. Woman dead.”
The guy started laughing, obviously still drunk, and Palmer knocked him out with a punch in the face.
“I’m sorry, mate,” Hiker 3, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“We’d better evac before these jokers come back.”
Palmer wasn’t listening, merely shaking his head. “She can’t be dead, that’s impossible.”
“I know it’s hard to accept, but we can’t help it. Come on, we gotta go.”
“No,” Palmer said, straightening up and turning toward his men. “You don’t understand, she can’t be dead. She’s a billion-dollar hostage, they wouldn’t just kill her. She has to be somewhere else.”
He lowered the G36 and produced his satellite phone. He didn’t call headquarters this time, he called a buddy at MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa, Florida.
“Charlie, it’s Palmer Fash.”
“Palmer! How’s it going, man? Long time no see, we should go out for a beer sometime. Are you in town?”
“I’m on an op, actually. Are you at your desk?”
“Yeah, I was just about to head out. What do you need?”
“I need tactical intel on a group called the Leopard Brotherhood, in Myanmar. We’re currently at their main camp but we need to know if they have other installations.”
“Sure, give me a minute…”
Charlie didn’t work for the Air Force; he was an Army major working for SOCOM – the United States Special Operations Command. He had at his disposal the world’s most impressive array of high-tech tools and resources needed for the Global War on Terrorism. Ever since Palmer had saved his life in Afghanistan, he had been inclined to help Palmer whenever possible.
“Okay,” he said after a few minutes. “Satellite imagery shows that they’ve been using a secondary location.”
Palmer noted the coordinates, thanked his friend for the information, and hung up. Immediately, his men pulled out a map and searched for this second camp.
“It’s in a mountain,” the Canadian said. “Do we have what we need to climb it?”
It was suddenly clear to Palmer and he grinned. “It’s a cave, maybe a tunnel.”
Although they could still hear gunshots in the distance, undoubtedly aimed at their helicopter, it was time to move out. The sniper gave them a safe route and they scampered out of the camp and into the jungle to the north.
They made good time and reloaded for the real rescue. Palmer was certain Kathleen was alive and now it was only a matter of getting her back. His anxiety returned, he couldn’t wait to see her face. He didn’t know what he would do, how he would react, but he knew never seeing her again wasn’t an option.
They’d been in the thick foliage for half an hour, no longer covered by their sniper, when they spotted movement ahead. Palmer made a fist and everyone took a knee. He switched to night vision.
“I see the cave entrance,” he whispered. “Two tangos standing guard.”
“How do you want to play this?”
“We don’t have time to fuck around anymore.”
He outlined his plan, everybody objected, and he overruled them. He just couldn’t wait any longer.
A minute later, Palmer started walking toward the cave, his weapon hanging down as if he didn’t need it. He intentionally took loud steps, stepping on branches like an oaf. As predicted, the sentries turned toward him.
“Min ga lar par!” Palmer greeted loudly. “Nei kaon la?”
This confused the two guards long enough for his men to shoot him in the head from their concealed positions in the brush. While they fell, Palmer ran forward and entered the cave.
He switched on his night vision again. The place was a typical grotto with stone walls and damp air. He walked slowly but didn’t see the jar on the ground. It broke under his foot and the sound was positively deafening as it echoed inside the cave.
He sped up and when he turned the corner, two rebels appeared, disoriented and panicked by the intrusion. Fortunately, their green forms were clearly seen with his image intensifier device. He shouldered his rifle and killed them on the spot.
The other mercenaries were joining him when he ultimately made out a person crouching in the complete darkness. The face was turned away, the individual obviously scared.
“Kathleen?”
Just as the face rotated, Palmer removed his night vision goggles and cracked some glow sticks. Immediately the cave was bathed in pale yellow light.
“Palmer? Palmer, is that you?”
Stunned that it was her, that she was a
ctually alive, he fell to his knees and dropped his gun.
“Are you hurt? Are you okay?”
“I am now.”
“I thought I’d lost you, Kathleen. Don’t ever do that to me.”
Unable to resist, he took her in his arms and hugged her tight. He didn’t care what anyone thought, his instincts were finally overriding his brain.
Chapter 9
The events cascaded rapidly after that. The chopper made its way back to them while they found high ground for an extraction. They didn’t encounter any opposition and within minutes they were in the air again.
They flew to Yangon while the team carefully inspected Kathleen for injuries, and then quickly boarded a private jet for Thailand. Palmer wanted to be out of Myanmar as soon as possible in case the bandits had political connections. Once they reached Bangkok, they took Kathleen to the hospital and the mercenaries were dismissed.
“I’m fine,” she kept saying.
And Palmer kept ignoring her. He didn’t want to suffer the wrath of her father, she needed to be in perfect health. No, that was deluding himself. The truth was he was the one who was worried. There was no more hiding his feelings now.
“You’re going to the hospital and you’re not coming out until you can run a marathon.”
“I don’t want to run a marathon.”
“Please, Kathleen. Just indulge me.”
Seeing the earnestness on his face, she humored him. She hadn’t had someone look at her this way since her very first serious boyfriend.
* * *
Palmer had changed clothes on the plane, but that wasn’t enough. When a group of doctors and nurses took over, he snuck into a nearby room – the occupant seemed to be out for some tests. He took advantage of the privacy to take a shower. He kept it brief but it was one of the most relaxing moments of his life.
His mind was at ease for the first time in months. Kathleen was safe and in good hands, his mission was over, and he was finally honest with his feelings. He hadn’t felt this serene in years. He dried off, got dressed again, and returned to Kathleen’s room.
