Murderous, cold, deadly.
“When the chopper lands, you three are all going to get on it with us. Throw your guns down and if there’s any funny shit, I’m going to open the woman up first before lighting you both up. Which one of you is Blake?”
Bobby didn’t mean to, but he looked over to try to see how Blake was doing. His look gave everything away.
“Ok, so you’re Blake,” the soldier said, “I’ve heard a lot about you, but I always heard you and your wife were a lot smarter than this. It was almost too easy. I’m really disappointed to find out you’re nothing more than a dumb hillbilly.”
“You wouldn’t be saying that if it were just you and me,” Blake said, standing to his full height.
“Yeah, like I’m going to do that. I know who your wife is; she’s famous in Black Op’s circles. She did some shit so secret that she can’t even tell her own father about it. I doubt you know any of that, but I’m sure some of her training has rubbed off on you, from what I’ve heard. I’m not stupid and I’ve already got a gun to your head. Now sit, and be silent for a couple minutes.”
That chilled Blake. He’d heard things about his wife from people claiming to know about her, and he knew she wasn’t a simple door gunner and mechanic. She might have been when she had first joined up, but her hand to hand and firearm skills were top notch. She’d also whipped up some battle plans on the fly that Duncan could only help to improve slightly. That took training and experience. Blake marveled at what his wife had done in service of the country, and what the man really knew about her.
The uniform read ‘Wilson’, and he could make out ‘Stevens’ on the other. The man holding Sandra had his nametag obscured. It was weird and stupid and humiliating all at once. He’d let Wilson’s men take him without a shot, without a fight. He’d let his worry, anger and fear overtake his reasoning and now they were caught. Probably dead soon.
The sound of rotors filled the air with a ‘whump whump whump’ sound, as an old Vietnam era Huey started flaring and floating down towards the opening in the trees. It was still fifty feet off the ground when Blake felt the gun pressed into the back of his neck.
“Who am I kidding? They’re going to execute us and leave us here,” Blake thought to himself, already sickened by his own resignation.
The gun dug in harder to the back of his head and two gunshots rang out. Blake looked to the left to see Bobby. The man who’d held Bobby at gunpoint was slowly falling to the ground and Blake chanced a look over his shoulder. Wilson was turning, his .45 no longer pointed at Blake’s head.
Melissa was ten yards behind them, a .45 already coming up to fire. Her bullets hit Wilson in the stomach and chest, and the last one exited the back of his head, painting the forest edge with gore. Blake was already moving, rolling towards his rifle. The man holding Sandra put his own handgun to Sandra’s prone form and everyone froze.
“Melissa,” Blake said, putting the man’s head right in the sights of his deer gun, “don’t. If he shoots Sandra, he won’t get out of here alive.” Blake said.
In truth, he knew Melissa was a good shot, but he didn’t want to risk her and the baby on two months of training and practice. He knew he was good enough, but even a shot to the head could let the nerves twitch enough to pull the trigger. He needed an opening…
“See, I’m going to walk out and get on the chopper and you guys aren’t going to do anything about it…” The soldier was saying, “and nobody has to die. You got it?”
A deep roaring, then a buzzing like a possessed chainsaw, ripped the soundwaves to shreds as an APC crested the hill, white tracer rounds walking the fire right into the side of the chopper. The explosion was huge and Blake looked back to look at the man holding Sandra for half a heartbeat. The soldier had dropped his gun hand to his waist in shock and was starting to recover from his surprise when Blake put a bullet right into his forehead.
Melissa ran as the soldier slumped and caught Sandra’s fall even before Blake could get his feet under him.
“Oh my god, oh my god…” Blake kept saying over and over checking her pulse.
It was strong, but she must have been drugged. He pulled his wife close to him and held her, waiting on the APC. He had a good idea who was driving, but he gave his handset to Bobby to ask for help as he put his hand to Sandra’s stomach, praying that whatever they drugged her with wouldn’t hurt the baby. He knew Duncan was going to be angry, but he could live with that along as his wife was ok.
Chapter Nine
Michael & King -
The plan they came up with was simple. They’d wait until full dark to go in. With most of the guards at the gate, they were planning on pulling in with the APC, a known unit. They’d park it in the motor pool, get Michael’s mother and Chad’s lady friend he’d met there, and make their escape. Chad had fallen head over heels in love with a redheaded woman he called Rose. She was barely 5’ tall according to what he was saying and he claimed he had no problem fading with them back into the woodwork. Through long conversations, Michael had slowly come to trust Chad, whose real name was almost unpronounceable.
That was also in line with everything that King had seen and heard at the old camp. The defectors who didn’t defend the camp gave up, to be released. Those who’d abused the women had been executed by their victims. Word had spread about the camps getting released, and quite often guards would disappear into the night time, never to return to duty. The NATO men were told that what they were doing was necessary work, or the whole country would fail. The problem was, NATO was ran by a coalition or a committee of sorts. Things were misinterpreted or ignored and orders were slipshod and little made sense.
The men they’d stolen the APC from had repeatedly called for Chad, and then radioed the base. Apparently the faults of their particular APC were known by all, and more than once they had indicated that the radio also was an issue. Chad wasn’t where he was supposed to be when the team walked half the night… So they figured he’d gotten lost or told them the wrong direction. For once, Murphy was working with the Americans as they drove up slowly, full of fear and confidence.
Michael grinned as he listened to Chad talk to King. A day ago he’d been almost too scared to even look at the giant of a man, but they were talking as if they had known each other for years. Hopes, dreams… a life to look forward to once the disaster righted itself, if it ever did in this lifetime. Michael let his thoughts wonder to his last conversation with his dad before their cruise… How he’d been grounded. How much things had changed, how Michael had grown as both a man and human. He hoped his mother was alive and well, and that she could accept the new ‘him’.
The APC drove right down the street and stopped at the fence, gating off the compound.
“Here goes nothing,” King said quietly as another guard came out, mirror on a telescopic stick.
He checked the under carriage of the APC and then motioned to another, who unlocked and rolled the gate back. Either these guys hadn’t gotten the radioed info, or they weren’t paying attention to the APC’s numbers as it rolled through and past them. The gate guard gave them half a wave and then pulled the gate closed behind them.
“How many APCs are based here?” King asked.
“Two, this transport and then the … Gunner?” Chad asked, struggling for the words.
King nodded, “That’s like a howitzer on it, kid,” and they drove back to a large open sided sheet metal building and parked in the darkness near another APC.
Michael put his rifle to the rifle port as Chad crawled out first. He walked over to the other APC and climbed up to look in the hatch. King exited and slowly walked over to it, feeling the engine compartment to the heavily armed brother of their machine.
“Cold,” King said simply.
Michael didn’t quite trust Chad completely, but King did, from what he could tell. Michael left his pack, but made sure he had extra magazines for his rifle in his vest and that both .45s were topped off, with spare magazine
s. If it all went well, they would make their escape without gunfire. If Murphy of Murphy’s Law poked his nose in, well… Michael wanted to be prepared.
“This way,” Chad said after climbing out of the hatch and joining the two men on the ground.
“Follow, don’t try to march,” Chad said softly as they followed him, “We are units from all over world. Just be casual. No nerves here.”
“Now he tells me,” King griped softly and Michael had to grin.
The big guy’s sense of humor was starting to emerge. They had no issues as they walked across the compound; they even had a guard wave to them in the gloom as they passed him. Michael marveled at that but part of it made a twisted sort of sense… So many guys thrown together to do a job and with so many coming and going, the uniform was the only thing they looked at. Even King’s enormous size didn’t make the second guard look more than once.
“Do you know where the women are?” King said once they went into what looked like a decommissioned school, the hallways silent.
“Yes, I’m not always a driver. I’m usually a guard here, but the normal driver drank some unfiltered water and…”
“Murphy has been working for us all along,” King marveled.
“Yeah, he has. I can’t believe our good luck.” Michael said.
“Damn son, now you done jinxed us,” King remarked sorrowfully.
They passed door after door until Chad stopped at one. He pulled out a keychain with well-worn keys.
“Is it time for the bathroom already?” a voice called out of the darkened room.
“No, I need Rose. She awake?” Chad said.
“I know why you need Rose,” a feminine voice chuckled and the room filled with giggles as the women teased each other and, apparently, Rose too.
A small form walked out of the darkness and into the barely lit hallway, her hands covering her eyes as she let her eyes adjust to the emergency lights.
“Chad?” She asked, looking at Michael and King.
“Hold,” Chad said, closing and locking the door behind her as some good natured catcalls called out.
Rose didn’t hold still for long, she leapt into Chad’s arms, burying her head in his neck and hugged him fiercely.
“Wow, I didn’t know women could be so dirty mouthed…” Michael said, going pink at some of the suggestions that were coming from the darkened room.
“Rose, now is the time. These are friends and they will help. Do you remember where… Michael, what is your mother’s name?”
“Last name is Lewiston,” Michael said by rote.
“Yeah, she’s with laundry, down the hall. Should be done by now, but who knows?”
Chad swore under his breath and King gave Michael an uneasy glance and followed him.
“What’s laundry?” Michael asked Rose, a pretty woman a few years older than him, her hair cut short.
“The unit who does the bases laundry. They all work shifts. 24/7. I don’t remember what shift Mrs. Lewiston is, I just remember her because I was in there getting my stuff when they pulled her out for questioning two or three weeks ago,” Rose whispered back.
Michael knew why she’d been questioned. He was the reason… His father was a trouble maker and Lukashenko had probably radioed ahead for a pickup or Evac somehow. Of course he remembered sending the wife of a dissident to another camp, and had probably told them to grill her. He only hoped she was fine.
“Should we check the dorm first?” Chad asked, indecision gnawing at his features.
“Sure. No guards in the dorm?” King asked.
“No, not this time of night. Everyone is locked in, and guards are in laundry. We don’t have a working camera operation yet so it’s limited…”
“Everything’s limited,” Michael muttered.
Chad jingled the keys till he found the right one.
“Mrs. Lewiston?” Chad called.
“Whoizzit?” a sleepy voice called.
“Mrs. Lewiston in here, or is she working?” Chad asked as several forms moved in the darkness.
The creaking of the cots or bunks could be heard in the near silent hallway now.
“She’s got the 11-7am shift,” a woman said, coming into the light.
Her eyes grew wide as she saw Rose standing with King and Michael behind the guard.
“Is something wrong?” The woman asked suspiciously.
“No, thank you for your cooperation,” Chad said starting to swing the door closed.
An arm stopped it, probably painfully.
“What’s going on?” the woman asked.
Michael had a sinking feeling and, for once, he couldn’t argue with Murphy. He didn’t feel right about just getting his Mom out and leaving everyone else.
“Nothing, please step back, I’ll be along shortly to explain.”
“No, I have a right to know, I….”
Chad pulled the door open, almost pulling the woman off her feet.
“I’m sorry, I have no time for this,” he said and pushed her.
The woman’s butt hit the floor at the same moment Chad was closing and locking the door.
“We can’t leave them all behind,” Michael told King.
The big man gave Michael a soulful look and nodded. “Let’s get your momma first,” his deep voice bounced off the cement walls.
* * *
The laundry was at the far end of the hallway. King followed a couple seconds after Chad, who’d struck up a quick conversation with someone. Michael came around the corner in time to see King deliver one big meaty blow to the side of another guard’s head. He slumped and Michael brought his rifle up and stopped the guard on the far side of the room’s movement towards his sidearm.
“Sergei, no!” Chad said, “This is it, the time we were talking about.”
“It is?” The guard said, his face starting to smile.
“Yes, but I must have the Lewiston woman. Her son is here.”
“My son?” Michael’s mother said into the suddenly silent room that had, seconds before, been noisy with the murmur of female voices.
“Mom?” Michael asked and King gently pulled the rifle from his hands before his Mother almost tackled him to the ground in a fierce hug.
“Oh my God, you’ve grown so big, and your hair! You aren’t eating right, you’ve gotten so skinny, my God I missed you. Your father is going to be ecstatic, I can’t wait—“
“I love you too Mom,” Michael said, his words half drowned out as he fought to hug her back and not get suffocated at the same time.
Michael was a big guy, nowhere near King’s size, but his Mom was taller still than Michael and his father.
“Where’s your Dad? Did you… Wait, who are…” the realization crept into her eyes and she looked at King and then her son in shock.
“That other camp, that was you?” she asked quietly.
“Mostly friends, but yeah…”
“And your father?” she asked, squeezing the life out of him.
“He’s…. Mom… Lukashenko…”
“No….” she pulled away from Michael and looked into his eyes.
He never had been a good liar, and she saw the truth he couldn’t say out loud. She bit her lip and looked at King.
“You here to break us all out too?” she asked.
King took her hand in both of his and looked down into her eyes.
“I promise to do the best I can, ma’am,” he said humbly.
“What’s the plan?” Sergei asked as the women started to chat excitedly, their voices raised.
“Shut it,” Chad shouted to them and when the room fell silent, “You,” he pointed to a woman and tossed her the keys, “unlock all the doors to the rooms. Tell everyone not to move until we make some noise. You’ll know it when we bust through the gate. We’ll be the diversion and you melt into the night.
“But my kids, my husband,” another woman asked.
“We can do this much for sure,” Chad said, “The silver-looking keys are for the men�
��s dorms. Take your kids with you. Keys there as well.”
“Oh, God, we’re really doing this?” Sergei asked them and everyone but Mrs. Lewiston nodded.
“How are we busting through the gate?” Michael’s mother asked.
“Tank. Drive forward, backwards. Drive over the fence. Make a lot of noise. Maybe shoot some guards,” King was blunt and to the point.
“And him?” Sergei asked, nodding to the unconscious man.
“I don’t care, he cheated at poker,” Chad said, and for some reason was confused when everyone laughed.
* * *
Sergei, Chad, King, Rose, Michael and his mother Amanda moved quickly in the darkness as the women’s dorms became noisy behind them. It was impossible not to make some noise and, even if the guards went in there to lock them all down again, they would soon be distracted by what they were planning on doing.
“Disable the gunner?” Chad asked as everyone was climbing into the APC.
“Wait, I have an idea,” Michael said, and they waited for everyone to get in so he could climb back out the ladder.
“What are you doing?” his mother yelled.
“I’m going to drive that one. Chad, you get the front gate, ok?”
“Yeah!” Chad called back.
“Ok, I’m going to hit the fence in a bunch of spots. Just make sure you take out anyone who’s shooting. I can’t drive and do that. It’ll give people more directions to get away.”
“You won’t be able to use the guns, I do not even know how to do this!” Chad called back.
“I’m going to use it as a battering ram. Just don’t leave me behind when I’m done!” Michael called, closing the hatch and locking it.
The radio crackled and Michael sat down in the driver’s seat and reached for it.
“Kid, you don’t got to do this,” King said.
“Yeah man, I do. I watched Chad enough to know how to drive this,” he said, firing up the dual diesels.
“This isn’t just a hit and run escape no more, what you’re planning on doing…”
Cries Of The World Page 9
