"Come in, Brauch. This is Memphis. Over."
"Go, Memphis," he whispered back.
"You say when. Over."
"Watch for the first one to fall. Get your packs on. We can move back in the darkness as they come. Do not assume we can defeat them all in the first wave. Over."
Carefully, Brauch aimed at the rear-most Janjaweed within his range. He pulled the trigger. That man went down unnoticed by the others. Memphis and June understood without being told, and opened fire on other militants toward the rear of the company. But their clicking chambers raised an alarm. The Janjaweed soon realized their forces were being dwindled behind them by their foes.
With a scream, the first man charged, then the others with him. Brauch started firing more rapidly at the army rushing at them. He picked at their farthest soldiers as June and Memphis concentrated on the nearest. Everyone who charged, screamed so loudly, the disorienting noise terrified June. Their muzzles flashed fire and thunder. Though she fired, her aim was off as she stared at the wall of bloodthirsty men.
"Go to Memphis!" Brauch ordered June since she wasn't helping. Her ammo was low already, too.
Dragging her pack and carrying Corban's on her back, she slithered on her stomach from the foxhole and started toward Memphis. She couldn't see him, but she could hear the vague clicking of his rifle between the thunderous bursts from the Janjaweed rifles.
Suddenly, everything was quiet. The attack had lasted less than sixty seconds. June froze halfway to Memphis. What was happening now? Was it over?
"Careful," Brauch warned on his comm. "We only got about half of them. They're playing with us."
June turned her head to the right, opening her neck wound again. She felt a trickle of blood and sweat stinging her flesh. There didn't seem to be any enemies near her, but it was too dark to know for certain. Her eyes couldn't focus on the shapes nearest her. A pile of dirt was only ten yards away, but that couldn't be right. Letting go of her pack, she put her riflescope to her eye. The focus was all wrong. Had she bumped her scope? All she could see through the night scope was a man's face. His blinking eyes and brow filled the scope. Apparently, he was waiting for another order to attack, because he didn’t seem to be disabled.
But it was no illusion; he was the mound of dirt only ten yards away! June swallowed hard. He would've killed her if she hadn't realized him as the enemy first. She aimed at his chin and shot him. The sting of the pellet caused him to rise to his knees, then fall sideways. Behind her, Brauch continued to fire the NL-X1 intermittently.
Crawling forward on her elbows, June whispered her arrival to Memphis before she tumbled into the foxhole with him.
The Janjaweed came with a vengeance then, some from the back who had since awakened. It was all June and Memphis could do to cover Brauch as his foxhole was overrun. Finally, Brauch couldn't remain in his forward position any longer. Firing his NL-3 from the hip, he retreated toward Memphis and June. The Janjaweed were blind, but like bats, they could hear the NL weapons clicking and they fired in response.
"Get back and cover us!" Memphis ordered June.
Scurrying out of the hole, June made room for Brauch, and he slid in next to Memphis. The enemy was too close now to use the NL-X1. The team was firing frantically at chests and faces through their green scopes. Once June reached one of the retreat holes, she turned and gaped at the number of Janjaweed rushing their positions. She fired in short bursts, paused to slap in another mag, and then continued. In her scope, she saw Memphis fall into the foxhole, then get back up. Brauch shoved him out of the hole and covered him as he fell again, then crawled toward June.
For the first time, June considered the suicide pill any other ops team would've had. If the team fell into Janjaweed hands now, no one would be able to save them. But June remembered Corban's words. Faith was better than cyanide. God was with them, no matter what happened.
Suddenly, when the enemy began falling into the team's forward foxholes and there seemed no hope left, a shout was heard in the Janjaweed Arabic language. To June's amazement, the Janjaweed in her scope turned to fire to the east. June gazed in fear onto the plain, afraid she might find a secondary attacking force, which made little sense. But beyond the militants, a figure was walking at an angle toward them with a rifle in each hand. He was firing, but no flashes came from his muzzles.
It was Corban.
Rising from her foxhole, June charged the Janjaweed who were now caught in the crossfire. She didn't know how Corban was still alive, but she wasn't leaving him out there unprotected and alone to finish off the last of their foes.
Brauch saw the same ghost, and from three sides now, they counter-attacked the remaining Janjaweed, eight still standing, and put them all to sleep within twenty seconds. If Corban had been one minute later, the team would've been killed. The Janjaweed never saw from where Corban had come.
When the last man had fallen, silence once again fell upon the desert. Corban moved forward with both NL-3s cradled in his arms, aiming at each fallen shadow in turn, until he reached Memphis in a foxhole that Corban had dug nearly twenty-four hours earlier. Brauch jogged over to join Corban and June.
"You guys call the UN Turkish force?" Corban asked first.
Stepping close to Corban, June saw the right side of Corban's head smeared and matted with sand and blood, his earpiece cord cut by a bullet that had nearly killed him.
"About an hour ago," Brauch reported.
"Good. Let me use your radio." Brauch handed Corban his earpiece. "This is Corban. Scooter, you copy? Report. Over."
"Scooter here. Took a little siesta on us, huh, Boss? Over."
"Listen up. The Turks'll be here within the hour expecting a force of subdued Janjaweed. Take your flex-cuffs and move out together to lace them all hand and foot. Watch out for sleepers. Don't be afraid to fire on them as a precautionary measure. Get moving. Over."
"Roger. We're moving."
June was the team's southern-most chosen lacer. Corban and Memphis moved warily through the Janjaweed ranks as June went from man to man and bound each soldier. Brauch stood at a distance with his NL-X1, covering the whole operation. Whenever there was a soldier in question, Corban or Memphis fired pellets at June's next target. They ventured far out into the desert where Corban had hobbled the others early the previous morning, until everyone was bound and their rifles were collected.
By the time the armored personnel carriers rumbled up to them from across the plain, June was stumbling from exhaustion. The Turkish commander, in his blue helmet, spoke halting English with Corban, then deployed a dozen men to collect arms and the Janjaweed prisoners.
Together, the seven-person COIL team headed to the Kalma refugee camp. They could barely walk and were too tired to speak. Each of them was wounded, but they were thankful to be alive.
**~~~**
Chapter Twenty-One
Nathan "Eagle Eyes" Isaacson opened his eyes. Whimpering, he tried to focus, fearful that he was back on the doctor's experimentation table.
"Water..." he whispered in a dry, raspy voice.
Someone helped him hold a cup with a straw to his mouth. Nothing was familiar around him. He was in a white room with a lace-curtained window on his left. Sunlight warmed his cheek. This was not the castle. His eyes drifted upward to his attendant's face, and then he used his tongue to push the straw quickly from his mouth.
"Corban," Nathan said, as he tried to sit up.
"Don't get up, son," Corban said softly. "It's okay. I wanted to be here when you woke up."
"You...shouldn't be here." It took great effort for Nathan to speak. "I'm infected with..." He shook his head to clear it. The four-wheeler crashed in the brush. Someone had helped him. When he couldn't connect with Corban on the borrowed cell phone, he'd left a message. "What's happening?"
Corban, with a bandaged head, pulled a cushioned chair close to the bed.
"You're in a rented suite in West Berlin. No one knows about it. I need to talk to you abo
ut Xacsin Castle. Can you talk?"
"Xacsin Castle?"
"The place where you were held is owned by a man named Xacsin McLeery. He is working for the man we know as Abaddon, the same one who trapped us in Malaysia. Listen, Nathan. How did you get away?"
"They...left me. The doctor was careless. I...escaped. I..." His memory flashed back. "Oh, no!"
"What? What is it?"
"Milk! How could I?" Nathan choked on a sob. "I left him. I had to. I couldn't break the lock..."
"Milk is alive?"
"Yeah. But I couldn't open his cell."
"He's in one of the cells? Which level?"
"Second, um, level, from the bottom. I think the fourth cell from the stairs. How could I leave him?"
"It's okay. You had to, Nathan. We're gonna get him out tonight."
"We? Who else is with you?"
"Bruno, Scooter, Memphis, Johnny, and a couple others."
"Toad. Where's Toad? Did he get away in England?"
"Seems that Toad died in England, Nathan. He probably put up a fight, knowing him, to keep you and Milk alive."
Nathan looked toward the window as he processed the hard news.
"It was all a trap, Boss. First Malaysia, then England." He groaned. "Wait. A woman…she's in the castle. She said something about Helena from Malaysia. They're sisters. All this has something to do with that."
"Helena's still in prison in the States. From our intel, Helena does have a sister named Hannah." Corban stood, opened a file, and showed Nathan two photographs. "This is Xacsin. What about him? Is he there?"
"I've seen him." Nathan nodded. "I know those horrible green eyes. It was a while ago, maybe a couple weeks, when I saw him last. But, I've lost track of time."
"That's okay. How about this one? His name is Snake."
"Yeah. Yeah, he was new."
"Did he talk to you?"
"No, but I could tell he wanted to once. What day is it?"
"Wednesday."
"Wednesday…then, I think it was last Friday. I'm not sure, though. A guard was taunting me. Snake. Yeah. The woman, Hannah, killed him. They said Snake was a spy. He was one of ours?"
"Rest up, son." Without answering his question, Corban rested a hand on Nathan's shoulder. "I've got a nurse taking care of you. I'll try to stop by tomorrow night, all right?"
"Wait, Boss." Nathan's chin trembled, but he clenched his teeth, and took a deep breath. "How bad is it?"
"How bad is what?"
"My...condition. Give it to me straight."
"Nathan, there's nothing we can do about your leg. You'll probably limp a little for the rest of your life, maybe have to wear a brace, but knowing you, it won't slow you down."
"But, what about, you know, my body?" Nathan held up his arms to show the scars and scabs from needles, even the identification tattoo. "They pumped everything but refined ricin into my veins."
"You'd be in a hospital if you had anything chronic, Nathan. We had x-rays taken, tissue samples, blood… Your lungs showed signs of scarring. So does your liver. But there's no trace of anything that caused the damage. Even had you checked for TB. Since that guy had TB that you gave that blood-message to, we figured you'd at least test positive for exposure, but you're clean, Nathan, through and through."
"No, the tests are wrong. It's got to be a trick. The doctor, um, Stashinsky, they called him—he's experimenting to create a virus delivery system through living tissues, through people. And I was one of them. Milk will be next."
"We tested you thoroughly, Nathan."
"That…doesn't make any sense. I was near death from it!"
Corban picked up a Bible off the bedside table and set it on Nathan's chest.
"You know I don't believe in staged or sideshow miracles, but God can do anything. Some things we'll never understand. You're living proof that God's not snoozing. He's not done with you yet, Nathan Isaacson."
Nathan picked up the Bible and stared at its cover. Then he looked into Corban's face.
"Boss, you have to get the others out. There's so many in that place. They hadn't started on Milk yet, but they will soon. You don't have much time."
"I know. We're going in tonight. Operation Rahab. Snake got us all the intel we needed to do this, and you've confirmed what he's said. Anything else you can remember? Something that will help us?"
"The castle's closed up pretty tight. I counted eight men on the walls that I could see—and more in the towers. I'm sure there's more."
"There are."
"Besides getting Milk out, do one more thing for me."
"What's that?"
"Get that doctor."
"I will."
"You're going on this one yourself?"
"Well, you've left some tough shoes to fill as team leader, but I'm giving it a shot. Listen, there's one other thing before I go." Corban glanced over his shoulder. "No one knows you're alive."
It took Nathan a couple blinks to process the news.
"Okay... What about the guy who found me?"
"One of the Berlin COIL agents. But I coached him; he won't say a word. He's the one who set us up here. I was in Africa for a couple days, and while I was gone, we killed you off."
"Hmm, I see. I guess that explains why no one else from the team is barging into the room right now." Nathan sighed, already guessing what was next. "Knowing you, Boss, I won't be seeing friendly faces for a while, either."
"It's up to you, Nathan. We can still bring you back. I acted while I could; it was an opportunity. Now it's up to you, but you need to decide right now. Otherwise, Scooter's going to be trying to find you in the castle tonight."
Turning his head, Nathan looked out the window.
"I'm a soldier, Corban, not a spy, if that's what you have in mind for me."
"Yeah, you're right."
"But you could teach me what I don't already know."
"You need to be sure about this."
"Hey, I know it's not easy to kill off a man's identity, but you've already done it. I don't have anybody, Boss. You've already thought this through. I'm perfect for it. I could become anybody, go anywhere, infiltrate anything, with no history."
"Nathan, it's a lonely life. I've lived it; I know. But the Lord will stick closer to you than a brother."
"By the sound of things, you have something in mind for me already, don't you? An operation that no one else can handle?"
"Yeah." Corban smiled. "Something like that."
"Then count me in."
"All right." Corban moved to the door. "We'll be in touch."
"Hey, Boss? Tell the guys I said I loved 'em before I passed on, would you?"
"Of course. I'd be glad to."
"And give me a nice burial, huh?"
"You got it, Eagle Eyes."
#######
The team was waiting in Corban's hotel room in Berlin when he entered. He took one look at their steely gazes and knew they were ready for this special op. June's neck was still bandaged and Bruno's forearm was wrapped from their excursion in Sudan. They all had small wounds, but nothing that would keep them from the Rahab op.
"Boss, the weather's clear," Scooter pointed out. "It was clear last night. Please don't tell us we're waiting on the weather again."
Corban sat on the edge of the desk next to the television.
"No, we're going in tonight."
"Yes!" Scooter cheered.
The others shared his enthusiasm—all but Brauch, who sat quietly in the corner behind a thoughtful Rupert.
"While that may be good news, I have some bad news. It's the only reason we waited until today." He frowned sorrowfully. "Another prisoner from Xacsin Castle escaped while we were gone to help Kalma."
"What?" Memphis gasped. "I didn't read any reports about that!"
"Why didn't we hear about this sooner?" Scooter pressed. "Sorry, Boss, I'm just so anxious to—"
"We're all anxious. Let me finish." Corban was quiet as he searched for words. His concern was obvio
us, so no one else interrupted. "Nathan was the escapee. They couldn't...save him." Everyone stared at him in shock. "He was too overcome with disease. We had to...burn the body. I have his ashes. We'll have a funeral when we get back to the States."
Bruno, elbows on his knees, bowed his head. The tears flowed. Scooter gripped the edge of the bed. Even June dabbed her eyes though she had never known Nathan.
"Did you talk to him?" Johnny asked. "Or was he too far gone?"
"Yes, I talked to him. But he didn't say much; he didn't know much more than we already knew. He did ask that I tell you each how much he loved you." The room was quiet for a couple minutes except for a sniffle now and then. "And he said Milk is alive."
"Milk! Oh, that means they got Toad in England," Memphis deducted. "His poor fiancee isn't going to take that well."
"Fon's a strong woman," Corban stated. "But our concern is for Eve Patters now. Tonight, we have an opportunity to bring her husband home. Milk is on the second level, four cells from the stairs, according to Nathan. We get him out, and we make these two lives—Nathan and Toad—worth their passing. Rupert, are the authorities ready?"
"I have a detective on standby, but he doesn't know any details. All I have to do is make a phone call and the police will move in. One look at the inhabitants of the castle, and arrest warrants will be issued, no matter how popular or powerful Xacsin was around here. And the hospital is ready to receive up to two hundred for quarantine. That should be enough witnesses to put Xacsin and his men away for a long time."
"Except we're still not sure where Xacsin is," Corban reminded them all. "Somehow he knew we were closing in. He abandoned his fortress, even his own wife, Hannah, who Nathan confirmed is Helena's sister."
"Helena," Scooter growled. "Her sister's as sick as she is?"
"She is. Besides attacking the Christians and Jews, this has been Hannah's own little private revenge session against us for taking her sister captive after Malaysia, so add her to your list of targets tonight. The doctor should be at the castle, as well. We've gone over everything else. Let's do this and go home. There are a lot of people out there who need us. Abaddon has done a good job of interrupting our primary objective. I didn't put COIL together to be consumed with its own affairs all the time. Every day we're busy here, is a day that Christians in other countries are dying."
DARK HEARTED (The COIL Series) Page 21
