Redemption

by Ever N. Hayes

  I crawled toward Flynn’s tree and stood up behind it. Two of the soldiers around the nearby fire were facing my direction, but they were talking to each other. I reached above my head and grabbed a thick branch, slowly lifting my feet off the ground. I pulled myself up with my arms—my feet against the bark for extra traction—until I could swing a leg over the branch I held onto. I lay still until I was certain I hadn’t drawn any attention and then continued my ascent into the thick branches until I reached Flynn.

  “Hey,” I whispered.

  “Hey.”

  I put my hand on her arm. “We’re going to be okay, you hear me?” She took my hand and squeezed it. “Listen to me, Flynn. I need you to slowly stand up and stretch out. Get as loose as possible, but be careful not to break any branches or make any noise. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I helped her stand and waited until she felt like she was ready to move. I was just below her about halfway down the tree when there was a loud crack above me and a large branch fell down, hitting me in the head as it passed. As Flynn crashed down against me and slipped past, I grabbed her forearm. She seized onto my shoulder and belt and clung tightly to me as I struggled to maintain my own foothold and hold onto her at the same time. I don’t know how she didn’t scream. I think I would have in her shoes.

  The branch crashed down in the middle of the men below us—two of whom had just lain back down. Now they were all awake and upright. Two of them reached for their flashlights. With all my strength I swung Flynn around to another branch and told her to hug the tree. I swung myself around her, covering her as best I could. One flashlight came on and shone up in our direction. The other four men were looking up into the tree too. Another flashlight came on. Then, suddenly, several gunshots rang out behind us, and four of the men fell to the ground. Lazzo. He took off through the brush, drawing gunfire from the other soldiers around us. They began pursuing him—including the last soldier beneath us—leaving Flynn and me alone. Lazzo was trying to lead the soldiers away from us, and it appeared to be working. Up and down the line of campfires, men were running toward the sound of the shots, giving us a way out. Lazzo was moving as quickly as he could, but the men and dogs were going to catch him soon. There was no way he’d make it out of this. He’d given himself up for us.

  “Flynn, we’ve gotta go.” I dropped through the branches, and she scurried down behind me. We hit the ground, grabbed the bow and quiver near my tree, as well as the pack Lazzo had left there, and raced for the clearing. I grabbed Flynn’s arm before we broke free from the trees. “We need to crawl. Stay as low as possible.”

  “Is this really the only way? Aren’t the snipers watching this still?”

  I nodded. “Probably, but we don’t have a choice. Sorry.”

  “We could try to go around—stay inside the tree line, head south and cross downhill.”

  “Flynn, that’s where Lazzo went. We’d be walking right into all the soldiers and dogs. There is no other way.” I was saying the words aloud as much for myself as for her. This is the last thing I want to do right now.

  We began inching across the clearing. I was hoping we’d be lucky enough that they might not see us, but they’d seen and shot the deer—I figured it was only a matter of time. We hugged the ground and used every available rock and stump for cover along the way. A giant boulder sat about halfway across the clearing, and we made it safely to that. As we huddled there to catch our breath, I turned to Flynn. “If you hear a gunshot, just run, okay?”

  She nodded. “Hayley, what’s going to happen to Lazzo?”

  “He’s dead,” I replied, listening carefully for any sounds of danger nearby.

  “So, you’re free?”

  I nodded but contradicted myself. “I was never really a prisoner. Okay, so I was a little. But he was a good man who was coerced into making a desperate move to try to save his family. I understand why he did what he did.” A vision of Sam falling over the edge of the boat flashed through my mind. “He didn’t know what else to do.” Flynn remained silent. I hoped the hurt in my voice expressed the feelings I couldn’t. “If I’m honest with myself, I think I’d have done the same to save my family … if I truly believed I had no other choice.”

  We heard a few more gunshots—some even sounded like they came from up the mountain. There was some yelling nearby and one more gunshot. Then silence. The soldiers would be coming back soon. “Ready?” I looked Flynn in the eyes.

  “Right behind you,” she replied.

  We began crawling again toward the looming tree line. We were no more than twenty yards from cover when one more loud gunshot echoed through the clearing from up the hill. I flinched but felt nothing, and I didn’t hear the bullet hit anywhere near us. I glanced back at Flynn. “You okay?”

  “Yes.”

  We scrambled forward faster. How could they have missed us? We were barely moving. How did we get so lucky?

  THIRTY-THREE – Sniper Hunt (Danny)

  Early Morning Hours.

  ---------- (Tuesday. August 9, 2022.) ----------

  Luck had nothing to do with it.

  The snipers were still on the hill above the clearing, but they were dead. Blake, Keena, and I had been running east along the ridgeline when we heard the first two gunshots and saw the flashes about a mile ahead of us on a higher ridgeline. That was the first sign we’d seen of the paratroopers that had fallen from the sky. But what the heck are they shooting at? We’re up here.

  My best guess was they’d taken up a perch over an open valley, hoping to catch the three of us passing below. But someone else had crossed into their line of fire, potentially even multiple subjects, and the snipers had taken them out. People? Animals? There was no way of knowing from here. Has to be people. You’d have to be stupid to give away your location for animals. Now, they’d essentially put neon signs on themselves, taking the challenge out of this high-stakes game of hide-and-seek. Well, most of the challenge.

  As we approached the snipers, Blake handed me Keena’s rifle. With the night scope I could make out four snipers set up in the rocks and focused in on the valley below. As I was about to turn and indicate that number to Blake and Keena, a slight movement to the left caught my eye. Someone sat up from behind a rock and appeared to be talking to one of the snipers.

  “Blake, there are at least five guys—perhaps more.”

  “Danny, we’ve got a rifle, a handgun, and a knife.” Blake left the comparative imbalance unmentioned.

  “I know.” I looked around. “Blake, this isn’t the kind of stuff I’ve trained you in. Hand-to-hand combat I mean. Keena, I’m sure you’ve got sufficient training, but I think I need to go in alone.” I handed Blake the rifle. “I’ll take the night-vision goggles. You watch through the rifle. Any shot you fire will echo through the valley like a cannon. But if I raise my left hand, you shoot any of those guys you can. Got it?”

  “Left hand. Yep.”

  I appreciated that he wasn’t going to argue with my plan. I was sure he didn’t like the idea of me walking into this one-on-however-many, but stealth was critical now. It made the most sense to take this approach.

  Keena, on the other hand, objected. “Danny, what happens if you get caught?”

  “Keena, we saw a couple hundred of these guys fall out of the sky. The forest down there is probably crawling with them. We saw the smoke from the fires…we know they’re down there. They’re waiting for us. This is our best chance to take away their advantage.”

  She nodded but remained quiet.

  “You okay with me taking the Springfield?” She nodded again and handed me the pistol. “All right then.” I took a deep breath and fist bumped each of them.

  I climbed up the back side of the ridgeline, just out of sight of the snipers, until I was directly behind—and above—them. I slithered up to where I could look straight down on them and sure enough, there were eight men in all. Three sleeping, one on a radio, and four snipers zoned in on the valley. It had been
almost an hour since the first two shots had been fired. My watch read 12:18 a.m.

  The man on the radio finished his communication and walked over to a bush. He unzipped his pants for a leak he never got to take. I doubt he even felt the blade touch his throat. I slowly lowered him to the ground and slunk over to the three sleeping men. Three more quick slices, three fewer threats. I signaled in Blake’s direction—with my right hand—four down. He was a good two hundred yards away—and my night-vision goggles had a range of about fifty yards, so I couldn’t see him. But I was certain he was watching me. Hopefully he was moving my way.

  I slowly slid down the slope behind one of the snipers. I had the knife poised to slice when gunfire erupted in the valley. The sniper jumped—startled—and his sudden movement caught me off guard. The knife slashed his shoulder, and he yelped in pain, jumping to his feet and plowing back into me. I fell back—off-balance—and noticed we had unfortunately gained the attention of the other three snipers. They were running towards us, trying to get a clear shot at me.

  The gunfire continued in the valley as I wrestled with the large man now pinning me down. He was much stronger than I was and had better leverage, but I had his arms locked and he couldn’t reach his own gun or knife. I saw one of the men pass us and run up the slope. He’s heading for the radio. Come on, Blake. On cue, I heard the echo of a gunshot reverberate across the ridge. Then another. Then one more. Did Blake miss? Twice? The two men approaching to help the guy wrestling me froze as their friend who had run up the slope came tumbling back down—dead.

  I was able to get my knee up into the gut of the man on top of me as he wrenched the knife from my hand. I kicked him off me, and we each drew our sidearm simultaneously. His first shot missed my head as I rolled and put two in his chest. He flipped backward over a rock and fell hard—and pretty far. Another two gunshots from Blake mixed with the barrage in the valley as another sniper died. One left. How is Blake missing these guys?

  I couldn’t see the last sniper. No doubt he’d found a rock to hide behind. As hard as it was for me to lie still, I knew Blake was looking for him too. If this sniper was trained as I’d been, he was waiting for me to move—to be visible. He was also aware another gun out there had taken his comrades out at long range. One of us would make the first mistake—our last mistake.

  From my prone position I motioned for Blake to keep moving toward me along the upper ridgeline. He had to get a different angle on the hidden sniper. There was another volley of gunfire in the valley below us, some yelling, and then a single shot. Eerie silence followed. I was afraid to move.

  A few minutes later, Blake had a lock on the missing sniper. His final shot chattered across the ridgeline and through the valley. As soon as I knew for sure the soldier was dead, I grabbed one of the enemy sniper rifles and turned it on the valley, trying to find the reason for all the gunfire. The troops had been fighting someone down there—I could see torches and flashlights moving through the trees. Maybe even Lazzo and Hayley. I saw some troops run out into the open rock field, but there was no sign of Hayley—or Lazzo. Soon those troops would be radioing up here and would find out their sniper support was gone. We had to keep moving toward Knights Peak.

  THIRTY-FOUR – Silas Mubarak (Eddie)

  Early Morning Hours.

  ---------- (Monday. August 8, 2022.) ----------

  Fort Morro Prison. San Juan, Puerto Rico.

  Two loud pops woke Eddie shortly after midnight. He sat up when he heard one more. The pops were loud enough to where he knew they weren’t normal. He stood and walked over to the bars, straining his ears to listen for anything else up the stairs but it was silent. The only noises were down the hall—the guards talking and prisoners shuffling around their cells. What were those pops? They sounded like gunshots.

  Then the little red light on the surveillance camera went off a couple minutes later. Eddie hadn’t heard a helicopter come in, and he didn’t hear anyone coming down the stairs. He took that to mean the guard who had slipped him the key was in the control room. That was his signal. This was his chance.

  It was dark outside, and the prison was silent. Eddie walked to the door of his cell and reached around to insert the key in the lock. A quick twist and click and the door swung open. Eddie slowly stepped out into the hallway. He heard someone clear his throat down the hall and could see a faint silhouette highlighted by a dim light source around the corner. He tiptoed to the end of the hall, grateful the other prisoners seemed to be asleep. Eddie peeked around the corner and saw a guard walking away from him and another seated a few feet away with his face in his hands. Eddie took three quick steps and snapped the seated guard’s neck in one swift motion. He pulled the guard off the chair, donned his hat, and took up the same position the guard had occupied just seconds earlier. He saw the other guard turn around and look in his direction. The guard began to pace back. Eddie didn’t dare move too much. He counted down the guard’s steps until he was only a few yards away and then lunged at him. The guard attempted to duck and yell but Eddie shoved his hand over the guard’s mouth before he could make much of a sound. Eddie slammed the guard’s head back against the wall and then gave his neck a quick twist—yielding another distinctive crunch. Two down.

  He found the cells with red circles in them, put his face against the bars and whispered “Mali.” There was no reply, so he whispered again, a little louder. “Mali.” He heard stirring and whispered a third time, “Mali, are you in there?”

  “Eddie?” a female voice replied in surprise.

  “Shh, yes…it’s me baby.”

  A shadow approached him, but it wasn’t Mali. It was Cera, Lazzo’s wife. “Cera? Where’s Mali?” Eddie could see the troubled expression on her face. “Where’s your daughter?”

  “Isabelle is …” She reached out and grabbed Eddie’s hand. “Mali isn’t—they—” Tears pooled up in her eyes. “They’re not—”

  But there were three circles on the sheet. “No … she’s here—” He realized he was being too loud. “I was told she’s—”

  “Eddie.” A tear ran down Cera’s face. “She died a day after the beating. Her brain—she—I—” Cera didn’t know what to say.

  Eddie sank to his knees, and Cera slid down with him. He could feel tears in his eyes. He looked at Cera in shock. But there were three circles.

  “Cera,” Eddie finally spoke up. He knew he didn’t have much time. “Isabelle is dead too?”

  “I don’t know. Commander Boli took her.”

  So Boli had been here for something else. “Why?”

  “He didn’t say. Just that he needed her.”

  Eddie didn’t have time to think about why Boli had taken his niece. “Who is next to you?” He pointed at the adjacent cell.

  “Next to me? No one,” Cera replied. “It’s the—”

  “The what?” He reacted to her sudden pause. “The what, Cera?” “It’s where they keep the coffins,” she whispered. “It’s where your wife and daughters are.”

  Then it made sense. The guard probably knew Eddie’s wife and girls were dead but couldn’t tell him that. He didn’t want Eddie to suddenly become emotional. He didn’t want Eddie to react. He had to make him believe all was well. Cera apparently wasn’t even indicated on the map. Maybe the guard didn’t know who Cera was.

  “Eddie, you have to go. You must leave now.”

  “I’m taking you with me.”

  “No, you can’t—”

  “I am.”

  “We’ll never—”

  “We will.” Eddie unlocked her cell and swung her door open. “Stay with me.” Cera knew Eddie well enough to know there was no point in arguing. He grabbed a handgun and rifle off one of the fallen guards and walked toward the corner. Glancing down the final hallway, he saw four men seated at a table, playing cards and smoking. Eddie put his hand on Cera’s shoulder. “Wait right here a minute.”

  He strode casually—head bowed—down the hallway toward the guards. One of the gu
ards addressed him, but Eddie ignored the question. The guard repeated himself, irritated, and stood. At that moment he recognized Eddie and reached for his gun. It was too late. Eddie shot him four times and then finished off his magazine into the other three. The gunshots echoed through the hallways. Anyone outside would definitely have heard them. Prisoners in the cells rushed to their bars, begging for Eddie to free them. He ignored them. Hopefully the number of Xs on the sheet was right. He picked up two more handguns off the floor, slung an M16 over his shoulder, and whistled down the hallway for Cera. She hurried toward him. He held out his hand to her, helped her over the bodies, and swung open the door at the end of the hall. He glanced up the stairs but still couldn’t hear anything. No voices. No alarms. He slowly climbed the steps and peeked outside. One figure stood across the courtyard beneath a street lamp. Eddie recognized him as the friendly guard.

  “Pssst …” Eddie tried to get his attention.

  The guard motioned for him to approach and Eddie did—cautiously—pulling Cera along behind him. It could be a trap.

  “I took care of the others.” The guard read Eddie’s wary look. “But more will be coming. I could not prevent the silent alarm.” Eddie nodded as the guard pointed down a staircase. “Follow these stairs down to the pier and take the boat to the location in Rincon marked with an X.” He handed Eddie the map. “There is a jeep parked there with keys in it, and a map in the glove box leading you to an airfield with a plane. Go—”

  “You must come with us.”

  “I can’t.”

  “I cannot fly a plane.” Eddie made a flying motion with his hand.

  “But you—”

  “No. My brother is the pilot, not me. I can’t fly.”