“I will.” He blinked and realized there was more he needed to say. “Rebecca, I’m sorry. I should have told you.”
He heard her sigh. The sound was distorted as the satellite signal broke up. For a few seconds, there was only crackling silence between them.
“Keeping secrets isn’t exactly new for you, Tom,” she finally said. “With everything that happened, what we do … Trust is hard for you, I get it. But sooner or later, you have to make a decision.”
“I know.”
“We’re either in this together, or we’re alone. You can’t have it both ways.”
There was a click, and she was gone.
Several minutes passed. He rose from the bed and staggered to the shower. He stripped down, leaving his dirty clothes on the floor, and leaned under the pulsing jet of water.
He closed his eyes and let the lukewarm spray wash away whatever sweat, grime and pain it could.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Caine’s eyes shot open. The room was dark. The ceiling fan spun overhead, a soft whisper in the quiet room.
He blinked and sat up in bed. He knew something had woken him … something was wrong. He glanced at his watch. It was a few minutes past midnight. His hand slipped under the pillow and gripped his pistol. He stood up and slinked over to the window. Using the barrel of the gun, he parted the curtains just enough to view the street outside. It was dark, empty, and silent.
He walked over to the door and listened. Again, he heard nothing. He unlocked the door and opened it an inch. The hallway outside was quiet as a tomb. A thin sliver of light spilled from the door of Nena’s room. It was open just a crack.
He heard a man’s voice, whispering. Then he heard Nena scream.
Caine darted into the hallway and sprinted towards her door. Pressing his body against the side of the frame, he took a deep breath. Then he kicked the door open and swung into the opening, raising his pistol in a steady grip.
A tall, lanky man stood over Nena. She was lying on the bed, clutching a thin white sheet against her chest. Her eyes were wide with shock and fear.
The man looked up at Caine. His jaw dropped, and his hands shot up in surrender.
“Please, don’t shoot!” he cried out.
Caine kept his pistol aimed at the man. “Who the hell are you?”
“It’s okay,” Nena hissed. “He’s a friend. He startled me, that’s all!”
“I work in the clinic,” the man said, his voice stuttering with fear. “I was there when it burned down. I escape, I hide.”
Nena sat up in bed, clutching the sheet to her body. “Close the door! I need to get dressed.”
Caine kicked the door closed with his foot. Nena grabbed some clothes off the floor and padded into the bathroom.
Caine gestured to the bed with his pistol. “Sit down.”
The man did as he was told. He looked to be in his early twenties. His hair was short and neatly trimmed. A thin goatee and mustache framed his trembling lips.
“What’s your name?” Caine asked.
“I am Rafael. I worked in the clinic with Doctor Vasani. There are girls here, downstairs. One of them knew my sister. She told her Doctor Vasani come back to town. I come here to warn her.”
“Warn her about what?”
The bathroom door opened. Nena stepped out wearing jeans and an olive-green shirt.
“It’s okay Tom, he’s telling the truth. He’s a nurse here. He goes to medical school in Juba and works in my clinic during his free months.”
“Doctor Vasani, thank God you are alright!” The man stood up and embraced her. Nena hugged him back for a moment, then pushed him away.
“Please, Rafael, get ahold of yourself. What were you saying about warning me?”
Rafael paced in front of the window. “The men who burned down the clinic … the soldiers here say they were rebels, but that is not true. I mean, they were rebels, but they were not the SPLM. It was the Army of the Chosen!”
“Takuba’s men?” Caine asked.
Rafael nodded. “Two of the men bore the mark of the Ghost Jackals … the armbands, the white faces. But two of them, they kept their faces hidden under black hoods. I could see the skin around their eyes. And the way they spoke, they were not from here.” He turned to Caine. “They spoke English, like you. American.”
“Are you sure?” Caine asked. He thought back to the slug he had pried from the wreckage of the clinic. 5.56 NATO. The same caliber used by the IWI Tavor rifles the Delta Blue mercenaries had carried in Louisiana.
He knew many guns used that caliber of ammunition. It could just be a coincidence. But still …
“How did you escape?” Nena asked the panicked man.
“I was in the bathroom when the men came in. I heard them shouting. Then I heard gunfire. I ran out the back door before they set the building on fire.”
He looked into Vasani’s eyes. Pain and guilt contorted his features. “I heard the other staff. They were crying, begging the men. And then, when I ran out of the building, I saw the flames. I should have gone back … I should have helped. But I was scared.”
“Hush, there is nothing you could have done. You are alive, that is all that matters.” Nena gave him a gentle smile, and the man’s ragged breathing slowed down.
“These men, they were looking for you. They said an American had given you property that belongs to them.”
“The bio-weapon samples,” Caine said.
“Did they get the samples, Rafael? The case Mr. Carter gave me?”
The man shook his head. “No. The samples were not there. Mr. Carter came back the day before. He took the case and the test results. He said he was going to wait for you in Kanfar.”
“Where’s that?” Caine asked.
Nena sat down on the bed. “Kanfar is southwest of here, along the river. It’s a small town. Conditions are bad … even worse than here.”
“Do you have a clinic there?”
She shook her head. “No. There is no infrastructure there at all. But Rafael and I would travel there in the truck and deliver medical supplies. Your friend, Mr. Carter, knew I visited there often.”
“Then that’s where we have to go next.” Caine tucked the pistol in his waistband. “Rafael, if I were you, I would gather your family and head back to Juba. Get as far away from here as you can.”
The young man continued his frantic pacing. He gripped his skull in both hands. “My whole family? But my mother is old, she cannot travel to Juba. What am I going to do?”
“I don’t know, but Takuba must have men near Malakal. He could come back, or—”
Before Caine could finish his sentence, the crackling of automatic gunfire burst through the room. The window exploded into shards of broken glass. Rafael danced and jerked as the bullets tore through his body.
“Nena, get down!” Caine shouted. He dove through the air, knocking her off the bed and onto the floor.
Rafael’s bloody corpse collapsed next to them.
Nena screamed. She reached out for him but jerked her hand back as another round of bullets ricocheted through the room.
Caine pressed up against the outer wall. He peered around the corner of the shattered window. A pair of headlights lit up the street. Three men crouched behind a battered pickup truck across the street from the hotel. Caine ducked back as one of them sent another burst through the window.
The gunfire ceased. Caine snapped out from his cover and opened fire. His gun roared three times. As he ducked back behind the wall, he saw one of the men fall to the ground clutching his shoulder.
He turned to Nena. She lay on the floor of the tiny room, her body shaking. She stared at Rafael’s corpse and muttered an unintelligible prayer.
“Nena, look at me. Look at me!”
She looked up and he stared into her panic-stricken eyes. “We have to move. On my signal, we go for the door. Stay low. Crawl. Do you understand?”
She nodded her head.
More gunfire burst thr
ough the window. Caine returned fire again, sending a double tap of bullets towards the truck. The two remaining men charged towards the front of the hotel. A second vehicle rumbled down the road and skidded to a stop. It was another pickup truck, painted in brown and tan camouflage. A soldier in a tattered uniform stood in the flatbed, manning a pole-mounted W-85 heavy machine gun.
As he swiveled the weapon towards the hotel, Caine dropped to the ground.
“Move!” he shouted. “Go now!”
The chugging heavy weapon sounded like fireworks erupting through the air behind them. Thick slugs tore through the concrete walls, sending a shower of debris onto Caine and Nena. They scrambled across the floor towards the door.
A dusty haze filled the room. “Stay low!” Caine ordered, coughing in the thick, chalky air.
He reached up and swung open the door. Grabbing the back of Nena’s shirt, he herded her out into the hallway. Behind them, the room’s walls continued to crumble under the onslaught of the heavy weapon.
He heard shouting in the lobby downstairs. More gunfire sounded from below. Heavy footsteps stomped up the stairs.
“Stay here,” Caine hissed. He jogged towards the staircase, keeping as low as possible as he moved through the dim corridor. He ducked down behind the bannister as the two men ascended into view. His hands wrapped around the trunk of a potted palm.
As the soldiers reached the top step, Caine leapt up and swung the tree in front of him. The heavy pot slammed into the nearest man, throwing a spray of dirt and dried leaves into the air.
The rebel soldier staggered backwards. He cried out as his feet shot out from under him and he tumbled down the staircase.
Caine hurled the potted plant after him as the other soldier spun towards him. Before he could fire, Caine grabbed the barrel of his assault rifle in both hands and shoved it straight up. Muzzle flash exploded from the weapon, but Caine’s body had already dropped out of the line of fire.
As the confused soldier struggled to regain his balance, Caine kicked low. He stomped the edge of his foot into the man’s shin. The soldier took a step back, dropping his rear foot down the stairs.
Caine stabbed his right hand through the soldier’s arms. His fingers wrapped around the back of the Tavor. He yanked forward, levering the rifle out of the man’s grasp. In the same fluid motion, he thrust the barrel forward, jabbing it into the soldier’s face. The man’s hands flew up to protect his eyes as the metal barrel dug into the soft flesh of his face. He took another couple steps down the stairs.
Caine pulled back the charging handle on the Tavor and raised the rifle. He dropped to one knee and opened fire.
A burst of gunfire ripped into the torso of the staggering soldier. He gasped as crimson wounds spread across his chest. His eyes rolled into his skull and he tumbled backwards.
Caine advanced down the stairs, swiveling the rifle towards the other soldier. The man cursed as he threw the heavy plant off his chest and rolled to his feet. Muzzle flash lit up the dim lobby as Caine cut him down with a quick burst. Moving with a swift, precise stride, he took up a position next to the archway that led to the front courtyard.
Out in the street, the soldier in the back of the truck unleashed another barrage from the W-85. Caine watched as more glass and chips of concrete exploded from the second floor of the hotel.
He dropped into the open doorway and took aim with the rifle. The soldier was so engrossed in firing the heavy weapon that he didn’t notice Caine lining him up in the rifle’s sights.
Caine squeezed the trigger and a three-round burst barked from the Tavor. The soldier jerked backwards and ceased firing. His confused gaze dropped to the entrance of the hotel. Caine squeezed the trigger again. The soldier collapsed. His body tipped over the edge of the pickup bed and sprawled into the street.
Caine darted back behind the entrance. “Nena, come down,” he shouted. “Get behind me!”
He heard her footsteps rushing down the stairs. Suddenly, a high-pitched whistling sound cut through the air. It warbled louder and louder, closing in on their position.
Caine cursed and darted back into the lobby. He grabbed Nena as she reached the first floor and dragged her behind the front desk.
“Cover your head!”
There was a tremendous whoosh, and a rush of air blew in from the front of the hotel. An explosion rocked the street, sending a plume of dirt into the night sky. Nena screamed as the building trembled around them.
More whistles screeched across the sky, this time in the distance. The ground shook as a wave of explosions rippled through the city.
“What are they?” Nena gasped.
“Mortars,” Caine shouted back. “Takuba’s men aren’t just attacking this hotel. They’re attacking the whole city!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Caine dragged Nena towards the back of the building. The hotel seemed to shift and spin around them as another explosion shook the building. The arched entrance collapsed behind them. A rain of bricks and rubble cascaded down from the second floor.
Nena froze in her tracks as the groan of twisting wood and metal echoed from the staircase. Caine kicked open a door marked ‘Laundry’ and pushed her through. A shower of dust and wood chips rained down from the second floor. The staircase dropped and began to lean towards him. Its wooden beams creaked and moaned as it snapped loose from its moorings. Caine darted through the door as the second floor sagged and collapsed behind them.
They ran past a row of battered old washing machines as another explosion rattled the building. One of the machines toppled over behind them. The metallic crash rang like a gong as it struck the floor. Nena screamed and covered her ears.
“Don’t stop, keep running!” Caine shouted. The laundry room was located in a screened rear porch. Caine heard gunfire and shouting in the distance. He threw open the rear door of the porch and they charged out into a muddy field that lay behind the building. Clusters of palm trees separated the hotel from the street where the Mobius truck was parked.
Caine and Nena dashed across the field towards the truck. He saw a crowd of civilians flee from a row of burning buildings across the street. The families scrambled along the mud-slicked road, carrying their wailing children in their arms. Behind them, the fire burned bright, casting a hellish orange glow across the town.
An engine roared from down the street. Caine grabbed Nena’s arm and pulled her behind a grove of trees. Two more of the rebels’ pickup trucks barreled around the corner, heading towards the center of town. The men in the back aimed their heavy machine guns at the scattered cars parked along either side of the dirt road. The weapons spat bright bursts of muzzle fire into the darkness, as they laced the air with a curtain of deadly projectiles.
The palm trees shook as bullets thudded into their thick trunks. Glass pelted Caine and Nena as the gunfire blew out the windows of the cars parked behind the trees. One of the rebels tossed a Molotov cocktail from the back of the truck as it sped past. A whoosh of fire engulfed the Mobius and several other nearby vehicles. As the pickups roared past, Caine smelled smoke and burning rubber.
“My truck!” Nena shouted.
Caine peered out from behind the trees. A group of armed men in ragtag uniforms jogged down the street. They followed the path of destruction left by the pickup trucks. They sprayed gunfire through the street, targeting the civilians who straggled behind the crowd.
“The truck’s gone. Forget it. Stay behind me,” Caine ordered.
Caine darted into the street. A wounded man in a bloody, tattered t-shirt staggered into him. The man looked into his eyes and pleaded with him in words he could not understand. Caine shoved him aside and raised the rifle. He targeted the squad of rebels as they opened fire on a burning house a few yards away. Three women burst out of the house. Their clothes and hair were on fire and they were howling in pain. Their flaming bodies writhed and their skin hissed as they fell into the muddy street. The rifle-toting men laughed and aimed their weapons at the
smoking bodies.
Caine gritted his teeth and opened fire. The gun jumped and rattled in his hands. The rebels swung their rifles towards Caine, but they were too late. One man fell. Caine pivoted to his next target. He side-stepped across the street, sweeping his fire across the gang.
Only one of the rebels managed to return fire with his battered AK-47. His shots kicked puffs of dirt into the air and ricocheted off the mangled wreckage of an old Jeep. Caine ducked behind the Jeep and fired another short, controlled burst. The rebel jerked backwards, then dropped his rifle. He fell face first into the dirt.
Caine gestured to Nena. She joined him in the street, and they ran towards the front of the hotel. Bodies darted around them … dark, desperate shapes, silhouetted against the flames of the burning buildings.
As they rounded the corner, another whistle sounded through the air. Caine looked up and watched as a smoking mortar shell struck the stone church tower. A cone of bricks and stone exploded out from the impact zone. Caine pulled Nena into the doorway of an abandoned building. The heavy chunks of debris pelted the street behind them.
“This is insane!” Nena shouted.
“This is a war zone,” Caine answered. “Takuba’s men have penetrated the government force’s perimeter. They’re advancing on the city. We have to get out of here.”
“But my truck …”
“Wait here. I’ll see what I can find.”
Caine started to move, but Nena grabbed his arm. He looked down at her. Her eyes were wide and they darted across his face. A fine gray dust covered her dark skin, giving her a deathly pallor.
“You can’t leave me here!” she screamed.
Caine grabbed her shoulders. His emerald eyes burned into her dark, dilated pupils. Her body was trembling. He moved his hands up to her cheeks and pulled her face close to his.
“I’m not leaving you, understand?”
She shook her head.
“Say it! I’m not leaving you, I’m coming back.”
“You … you’re not leaving me,” she stammered. “You’re coming back.”
Fire and Forget Page 21