The hyena weaved in and out of the fleeing hostages as full-fledged panic spread across the room faster than a California wildfire. Amira moved towards the area of cots, combat-walking in an attempt to line up a clear shot on the two gunmen on that side of the room. No matter what happened, no hostage would die from a bullet fired by her.
The man on the right opened fired with his AK-47, the 7.62mm shots deafening in the enclosed space. Amira heard a cry of pain slightly in front of her and to the left as a hostage, hit by the bullets, fell forward mid-stride. They’re going to kill everyone. You need to stop them.
She halted her movement, placed the sights on the chest of the man who’d fired the AK-47 but held fire as the last hostage from the left side of the room dashed across her view towards the back of the building. The moment he cleared her line of sight, she pulled the trigger smoothly, and her suppressed pistol added its sound to the cacophony inside. The rounds struck him in the chest, and his AK-47 grew silent as he crumpled sideways.
Operating solely by reflex, his partner, recognizing the new threat Amira posed, made the mistake of abandoning his original target. His slow attempt at drawing a bead on her gave the matriarch the precious milliseconds she needed to cover the remaining distance to him. The barrel of the AK-47 he wielded never came close as the hyena slammed into his side and lifted him off his feet like a professional linebacker tackling a pee-wee league player. The ferocity of the attack left Amira awestruck at the pure power of the hyena, but she focused her attention on the last rebel in the back of the room, who’d barely moved since the attack began. He’s in shock, which is good for me. There were too many panicked bodies between her and him for a clean shot.
As terrorized men fled the unfolding death, Amira crouched and jogged forwards, keeping the throng between her and the last rebel. She glanced left and saw the matriarch with her nuzzle buried in her prey’s chest, turning it into a dark, gory mess.
As if sensing her gaze, the pack leader looked up and fixed her intelligent eyes on Amira’s, which sent a chill down her back. Amira reflexively nodded at the beast as if she could primitively communicate with her, and the apex predator dropped her muzzle back into the body of its warm kill.
Within seconds, Amira had closed the distance to the back of the room.
Less than fifteen feet away, the last rebel roused himself from his stupor. His eyes picked up her movement at the last second, and he realized with dawning horror that there were two threats inside the barracks, but only one was moving towards him. He slowly raised the AK-47 in her direction, when an arm appeared from behind him. It snaked its away across his throat, as a second man stepped forward and plunged a large knife into the rebel’s side. He shrieked in pain and instinctively dropped the assault rifle as the blade was forced repeatedly into his side, his back arching with each pierce of the steel. Moments later, his struggling ceased, and the man behind him released his hold, allowing the dead rebel to drop to the floor.
As if in unison, dozens of faces turned towards Amira. “I’m here to rescue you, although to be honest, the hyenas did more of the work than I had to,” she said loudly and clearly. “Is there anyone here that speaks English and can translate to the others?”
Several men looked at each other, and an older Chinese worker in his late forties stepped forward. “I understand,” he said in near-perfect English.
“Good,” Amira replied, cutting him off. “First, do you have any idea how many more rebels there might be? I killed two near the tanks, two just outside of the door here, the hyenas killed four more, and then we have the six down in here. I chased one back into the command center.”
“I believe there are two more,” the man replied. “The leader, who calls himself Omar, and his lieutenant.”
“Okay. In that case, I need you to gather the weapons from these rebels and stay in here until it’s safe. I’m going to go take care of the last two and end this.”
There was a shuffling behind her, and several men gasped in horror.
Even though she knew, she turned and faced the matriarch, who stood less than ten feet away, her muzzle dripping blood in large dark droplets. But even more alarming was the fact that two of the smaller males had silently entered the barracks and stood behind her on each side like royal guards protecting their queen.
Chapter 12
Omar stood in front of a large control panel which occupied the entire back wall. Computer monitors, keyboards, communication equipment, and workstations sat empty, their operators in the barracks building next door. The number of machines it took to run a facility like the pumping station was a mystery to Asim, who cared more about life’s necessities such as food, water, clothing, and weapons than he did about technology. It had been a source of bemusement to Omar, who understood that the rebels had to embrace technology, if only to use it against its creators.
“What’s going on out there?” Omar asked, concern in his voice. His loose clothing hung around his stocky frame, but he held his AK-47, ready for the fight.
“We’re under attack. I only saw one of them. But worse, a pack of hyenas attacked at the same time. All of our men outside are dead. The intruder I saw ran into the barracks next door. Brother, we need to leave immediately. There have to be more of them, and after our losses, we don’t have a chance. If we leave now, we live to fight another day. There is no good outcome if we stay. South Sudan will be ours soon enough.”
Asim watched as Omar internally processed the information and struggled with himself as to how to respond to the attack. Asim knew Omar would welcome death if it served a higher purpose, but Asim was certain there was no purpose to be served by remaining.
“Okay. Let’s get to the jeep,” Omar said finally, and grabbed a set of keys from a rack that had been nailed to the wall next to the door.
The two men exited the command center, and the sounds of combat reached them from the barracks. Asim reflexively cringed at the two hyenas that continued to consume the corpses of his men. God look over them, he thought, and turned away. There was nothing left for him at this accursed pumping station.
Chapter 13
Amira sensed the fear of the men behind her, and she heard movement. They’ve grabbed the AKs. “No one open fire. Anyone who does, I’ll shoot him myself,” she declared clearly and loudly enough for the entire assembled mass of former hostages to hear. She didn’t want to kill the matriarch or her male protectors unless she had no choice. The female hyena and her pack had been a force multiplier unlike any other, and she respected the beasts for what they were – like she was – predators and hunters of men.
She felt her heart pound in her chest as her adrenaline surge continued. The matriarch lowered its head, its eyes up and locked on Amira’s face.
If that’s what you want, fine. Amira slowly lowered the pistol and let her arm hang at her side, although she was confident in her speed to reacquire her target if the need arose. She carefully lifted her left hand, her eyes never leaving the matriarch’s. She slowly raised the neoprene mask and rolled it up on top of her head, the back still tucked in below her collar. The men had shrunk back behind her, and she was certain no one could see her face in the gloam. Here I am. See what I am, she thought calmly, certain this was the right course of action.
The matriarch raised her head, her bright eyes studying Amira’s face. Her nostrils flared, as if inhaling the scent of the person in front of her.
Amira felt no fear, and as the seconds ticked by, her confidence grew. I’m just as much of a killer as you are. Understand and believe that. She concentrated, as if willing her thoughts towards the matriarch. Amira was suddenly aware of herself, the blood on her clothes from the men she’d killed outside, the sweat and dirt on her face. And she senses it, too. She knows what you are.
The matriarch suddenly raised her head and let loose a cry, and the men behind Amira gasped in fear. The pack leader suddenly turned, barked its unique growl-yelp, and the two males who’d accompanied her turned and b
ounded for the door. The matriarch turned her head back to Amira one last time and launched herself towards the entrance. She loped across the floor, fast and sleek, and disappeared into the night.
A sense of pride and satisfaction coursed through Amira. The matriarch had encountered a fearsome hunter equal to herself, and she’d respected the law of the jungle. I know what I am, and so does she.
She rolled the neoprene mask back down over her face and turned around. The men stared at her in awe, not as the woman and killer before her but as if she were some kind of ancient goddess in human form.
Before she could speak to break their reverie, the faint roar of an engine entered through the open door. Out of time.
“Listen, help will be on the way. I’ll make sure of it. Is there a vehicle around here? And where are the keys? I can’t let these bastards get away.”
The Chinese leader said, “There are keys in the command center on a rack right inside the door. There are three jeeps on the other side of the building. The top rows of keys are for those. Good luck,” he said, and then added, “and thank you. We are in your debt.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry about your losses,” she said, referring to the guards murdered during the initial assault and the additional hostage who lay dead on the floor, killed by the rebel’s gunfire as the matriarch had attacked. “It’s been interesting. Feel free to leave out the details of my arrival, if you don’t mind. Take the credit. You all earned it. Be safe.”
And just as quickly as the matriarch had fled the building, Amira sprinted to the door and exited as the stunned liberated hostages watched their rescuer pursue their remaining captors.
Chapter 14
Amira grabbed the last set of keys from the top row and dashed out of the command center, leapt down the short set of steps, and sprinted north. As she rounded the corner, she glanced down at the keychain and saw the Toyota symbol on the key, whose base was a remote FOB with lock and unlock symbols. She skidded to a halt, pressed the unlock button, and a second later, a chirp and the flash of headlights drew her attention to a white Toyota Hilux 4x4 pick-up, one of the most popular off-road vehicles on the continent. We’re in business.
She reached the truck, entered the double cab, inserted the key, and slammed the center console gearshift into drive. She pressed the accelerator to the floor, and the vehicle lurched forward in the dirt, following the dust that still hung in the air from the fleeing rebels. They’re less than sixty seconds ahead of you. You can catch them.
The network of pipes raced by on her left as she sped through the compound, the lingering dust in her headlights a suspended trail of breadcrumbs. She reached the end of the dirt road and slammed on the brakes. To her left was the northern perimeter of the facility – don’t forget to come back and get your backpack – and to the right was the exit and the sprawling village of Paloich. She looked through the passenger window and was rewarded by a pair of headlight beams bouncing away into the night no more than a quarter of a mile from her location. Gotcha.
Amira turned off the main headlights, left the running lights on, and floored the accelerator. The Hilux roared to life and chased after the escaping vehicle. She hoped they wouldn’t see her until it was too late, but no matter what, only one of them would survive the night. Her orders had been clear, and she planned to stick to them.
As the Hilux raced across the flat ground of the dirt road, she kept her eyes on the target vehicle. It had turned north away from her. She kept her eyes on the road and realized in the glow of the running lights that it gradually curved to the left. She accelerated through the gradual curve and hit a straight-away just as the vehicle in front of her turned right. It’s now on the paved part of the main road that runs through the area. The Hilux picked up speed, and she glanced at the speedometer, which read 140 kph. Damn metric system, she thought, recognizing she was driving 85 to 90 mph.
The pick-up reached the turn less than twenty seconds later, and Amira slowed just enough to drift through it. The Toyota’s tires gripped the pavement, and the Hilux shot across the road on its newfound traction.
Where the hell are they going? The main road turned left less than two miles away and ran north to the airport. Going straight, the pavement transformed into another dirt road. There were no other vehicles in sight, and Amira kept her eyes on the red taillights, which grew closer by the second.
The vehicle – another white Toyota Hilux, she was close enough to recognize – slowed down, its taillights blazing brightly in the morning darkness. Amira followed suit but kept gaining ground.
The second Hilux continued to decelerate, and Amira was forced to slow even more. She was less than thirty yards away when the Hilux ground to a complete halt, and Amira did the same.
For the briefest of moments, she wondered what their plan was, realizing an instant later their intent. Ambush.
Amira floored the accelerator as both the driver and passenger front doors opened, and a man appeared on each side, holding an AK-47 and turning it in her direction. Her Hilux shot forward as automatic weapons fired once again cried into the night.
Twenty yards, she thought, crouching low behind the steering wheel as the first rounds struck the hood of the vehicle. She pulled the steering wheel to the left at ten yards from the back of the vehicle and took aim at the driver.
Bullets ripped into the windshield, and one struck the mirror. Glass exploded around her, but she maintained her grip on the steering wheel. Almost there.
The man on the driver’s side realized the danger too late. He turned, took two steps, and jumped into the air to reach the safety of the hood of the Hilux. The only thing he succeeded in doing was making himself a bigger target.
The grill of Amira’s Hilux struck him flush on the right hip as he rose into the air. His body was violently spun as his lower body absorbed the impact. He flew across the hood of his Hilux and sailed several feet before landing on the pavement.
Even as his body hit the ground, Amira had slammed on her brakes. Her Hilux skidded to a halt as she fired the SIGSAUER through the passenger window at the second shooter, which forced him to take cover behind the passenger side of his own vehicle.
Amira opened the door and bailed out quickly, moving to the back of the vehicle. She wasn’t sure if the man she’d struck had survived, which meant she had to take the remaining rebel alive, as she’d been instructed.
This job just gets harder and harder, which was why she’d brought two M84 stun grenades.
She grabbed one from her harness, held it in her left hand, and pulled the pin with her right, which still held her pistol. She lobbed the grenade over the two vehicles, aiming for a point just behind the concealed shooter. Even as the grenade arced through the air, Amira dashed around the back of her vehicle towards the rear of the rebel’s Hilux, firing the SIGSAUER as she moved.
Her bullets were intended as a diversion, shattering the other Hilux’s windows. The rebel remained crouched throughout the barrage, unaware of the stun grenade that had landed four feet behind him. The grenade detonated with a tremendous explosion and a flash of light that deafened and blinded him. He fell over and screamed in pain but couldn’t hear himself through the buzzing in his head.
Amira rounded the vehicle, stalked over to where the last rebel lay on his side, his AK-47 no longer in his grasp. Worked like a charm, Amira thought, and struck the downed man hard in the temple. He slumped forwards, the fight over.
She looked around, surveyed the surrounding landscape, and still saw no vehicles in any direction, only random lights from various homes far off. Good. Time to get to work.
Chapter 15
Amira stared down at the two incapacitated men who both lay against the large boulder, side by side. Time to wake them up, unfortunately for one of them.
As soon as she’d knocked the last rebel unconscious, she’d zip-tied his hands and feet and thrown him with some effort into the back of the rebel’s Hilux. The man she’d struck with the car had suff
ered a broken right leg, a shattered hip, and possible internal injuries, but she’d secured and placed him in the SUV’s trunk area. She’d driven her vehicle fifty yards off the road, parked it, and taken the keys with her, knowing she’d be back once she was done. It was drivable, and she still had to retrieve her backpack from the northwest corner just outside the pumping station. She’d returned to the rebels’ vehicle and driven into the expansive wilderness for more than a minute past her staged vehicle. The location was isolated, and a large boulder blocked the road a half a mile away. No one would hear them, which was the point.
She turned on the powerful Surefire flashlight she kept in a small canvas holster, widened the beam, and placed it against the boulder, illuminating the area in a cone of warm, white light.
Amira nudged the injured man’s shattered hip, and a groan escaped his lips. She kicked slightly harder, and his eyes fluttered open. One last hard tap elicited a low cry of pain as the wounded man looked at her. “Good. There’s one last thing I have to do, and I wanted you to be awake for it. I hope you speak English or at least understand it.” Considering one of the official languages of Sudan was English, she figured there was a good chance.
“I…do,” the man replied, his voice thick with pain and fatigue. “What…do you want?”
Amira ignored him and turned her attention to the other rebel. He was awake and staring at her with pure hatred, his eyes burning into hers. At least my eyes are the only things he can see, as she’d left her neoprene mask on for the work ahead.
“I see you’re awake. Good. We can begin.”
Both men suddenly recognized the two items Amira held, and their eyes widened in surprise.
“I know. It’s a fascinating weapon,” Amira said, holding up in her left hand the machete she’d found in the back of the rebel’s Hilux. “It can kill, maim, and terrorize. I once read that hundreds of thousands of people have been slaughtered on this continent with this. It’s why you chose it, because it terrifies people, makes them easier to control. And this one, well, this one is sharp, which is perfect.”
AMIRA Page 6
