“Find out his name.” Hart lit a cigar.
The rich, leathery flavor drifted down on Mason and replaced the petroleum essence of war.
“He says his name is Mason Guillot.” A medic called out.
A soldier ran out of the gloom. “We found the other two,” and shook his head.
Hart dropped his gaze and spit out a bit of tobacco. As he turned to leave, the medic called again.
“He’s trying to tell us something.”
Mason lay on his back and brushed the medics away. He managed to call Hart over with a hand gesture. The Captain’s expression showed he was impressed that the soldier still had the ability to ask for his presence.
Hart expelled a cloud of Dominican pride and knelt by the injured warrior. “What is it, son?”
“They know . . . mission . . . Khan Bani Sad . . .”
“Save your strength, solider. There is no mission into Khan Bani Sad. Never was.” Hart took another puff off the cigar.
Mason’s eyes widened, struck by the fiercest blow yet. He lifted his arm and placed his hand on Hart’s forearm. “W-what?”
“The Army knew there were Iraqi soldiers working with us on the base that were in cahoots with this terrorist. We just didn’t know which ones. Your team was given false information where our next strike in Iraq would be. Not only that, but we leaked your last mission. The informant got the news to the insurgents. They were waiting for you even before you entered the hotel. They also knew you were members of the invading team and would have the strike location.” Hart looked away. “What we didn’t figure on, was that they would kill any of you before the rescue. We expected you to break and give up the location. The insurgents normally keep prisoners alive for weeks, even months to use as bargaining chips.”
Mason lifted his brow. “You used us for bait?”
“No, son. War is a chess match. You were pawns sent to protect your king. The plan didn’t go as anticipated. Happens sometimes.”
Mason dug his fingers into Hart’s forearm. “You sent us here to die?”
“No, I told you we sent you here to give a false location. The insurgents at the base were captured right after they set the IEDs along the roadside. We let them return to the base before we arrested them, gave them time to report to their leader over here that their mission was a success. We got your location out of them in no time. You’re a hero, son.”
“I’m not a hero. I’m a sacrifice.” Mason’s fingers dug deeper into Hart’s flesh.
“The Army had a problem that needed taken care of. Orders are orders. You have no right to question orders.” Hart tried to pull his arm away, but couldn’t. “Let go, son. You are in a lot of pain. Damn rag-heads fucked you up good. Once you get all fixed up, you’ll see we did the right thing.”
With renewed vigor, Mason squeezed Hart’s arm with the last of his strength.
Hart yelped and tore his arm away in a sudden jerk.
Mason felt bits of wet skin underneath his nails just before a blanket of darkness covered his mind. He quickly succumbed to unconsciousness, and was granted the peace he had been desperately craving.
Insurgent Z is available from Amazon here
The Creeping Dead: A Zombie Novel Page 38
