B00H242ZGY EBOK

Home > Nonfiction > B00H242ZGY EBOK > Page 26
B00H242ZGY EBOK Page 26

by Unknown


  “I will be waiting,” she said.

  He got up and clapped his hands together twice. Several servants came in and began dressing him in his ceremonial dress. The young girl watched in awe as they sprinkled him in glittering dust which made him shimmer and shine in the light. On his head they placed the ceremonial headdress. When they had finished, he turned to face the girl. “I am Wei, god of the sun. You shall be my bride,” he said with a smile. As he left, he said to one of the servants, “Do not take her away. I want her with me forever.”

  The girl moved over the bed and got down on her knees as he finally turned and left the room. It no longer mattered what they taught in her school. She was the chosen bride.

  Parente watched as Wei made his way to the holding area. There was something new with the boy. When the servants told him of his desires, he smiled. This will make him much more compliant, he thought.

  Caracas

  It seemed the secret police were everywhere. Rojas first went toward his house, but he saw several police units ahead of him going the same direction. He thought about going toward the Embassy, but thought better of it since the ambassador seemed to be involved. Instead, he made his way to the slums of the city where no one expected they would go. After an hour, roaming the narrow streets, he changed course and began making his way back toward the lacrosse fields. The lights were on and there was a fútbol game on the far field. Rojas, tired of driving and evading, pulled the car into a place between two buildings which afforded a clear view of the fields. He parked the car and turned off the lights.

  The children were frightened by all the frantic driving, even though Rojas and Christina tried to reassure them. Once they had parked, Christina urged the children to lay back and try to nap. After a few minutes she turned to Rojas. “Juan, what’s the real story about this? Why are we running?” she asked.

  Rojas let out a small sigh. She deserved the truth. “Have you been following the news about the American hostages?” he asked. She nodded. “We found out that Parente did this. Neither of us could live with something like that. Carl got in touch with one of the Americans and got me in touch with their embassy staff. We have been trying to end this,” he said sincerely. “It appears someone found out about our efforts and Parente is after us and the hostages. I’m afraid we are all going to pay the price because Parente craves his power.”

  “But isn’t he powerful enough as President,” she asked.

  Rojas chuckled. “You might think so, but this time, he is wanting even more. He is taking on the United States to prove it.”

  Christina sat back and stared vacantly out the window. The whole time she had known Carl, he had always tried to be the best. He wanted to be the best pilot, best parent, best church leader, and now best citizen. Once again, when something was wrong, he stepped in to make it right. This time, he had put his whole family at risk. She was eternally proud of him. Even if it did take uprooting and going seemingly to the end of the earth, she would be there with him.

  “Where will we be going?” asked Emilio from the back seat.

  Rojas turned and looked at the boy. He looked like a much younger version as his father and he had the same determined look Rojas had seen on his friend on many occasions. “Actually, I’m not sure. You may be going to the United States.”

  Emilio got a surprised look on his face. The prospect of going there got his attention. “Do they play lacrosse there?”

  “It’s actually where lacrosse was born. There are teams everywhere,” Rojas said smiling.

  The boy sat back in the seat and tightened his grip on the stick. “I’m ready,” he said with a half grin.

  The sound of a helicopter broke them out of their conversation. Rojas watched as the presidential helicopter came in slowly under the lights on the field. He quickly started the car and made a dash down the narrow space and across the street. Using the car as a battering ram, he crashed through the fence and drove onto the field.

  Messina saw the wild dash and set the helo down in the middle of the field. As the fútbol team and its spectators watched, Rojas drove the car right up to the helicopter. The doors were flung open and Rojas and Christina spirited the children into the waiting aircraft. In no time, it was back in the air and moving rapidly into the darkness. Almost immediately afterward, a set of cars bound onto the field with their lights flashing.

  Messina looked back at the field and increased the power to the engines to take the aircraft faster into the darkness. He also reached up and switched off the running lights. The next thing he did was switch off the IFF. Since the airport radar operators used the IFF instead of the raw return, it gave him a better fighting chance to get away.

  Banking the aircraft back through the city, he kept it low to the buildings while running full speed back toward the mountains and the airstrip. Sitting in the front seat, he looked back and waved to his family, then reached over and took Rojas’ hand. “Thanks you. I owe you everything,” he said.

  Messina switched off the interior lights and then punched up the intercom. “Okay, everyone just sit back and enjoy the flight. We’re going to be flying without lights, so just enjoy looking out the windows,” he said. He was rewarded by the family waving to him.

  Messina turned to Rojas. “We’re not out of the woods yet. This will be an hour and a half flight and we may be sucking fumes by the time we get there. Help me watch for other aircraft, especially fighters.”

  Fortunately, the secret police hadn’t thought about scrambling fighters because the nearest base was over fifty miles away. With thunderstorms rolling through the area, few were venturing into the air. The helicopter ran unopposed out of the city and into the mountains toward the distant flashes of lightning.

  Chapter 15

  Rescue

  The Compound

  Slowly, Chapman’s men moved toward the big wooden gates at the opposite end of the compound. In the towers, the men seemed more interested in keeping an eye on what was going on inside than outside the walls. After President Parente had left, the gates had not been closed. With them open, a breeze seemed to better fill the courtyard and cool the buildings. With the end in sight, there seemed little reason to close them.

  Chapman led the first group to the right of the structure while Ricks and Second Lieutenant Mason took the left. At the far end of the compound, Ricks sent Miller and another sniper to the opposite end of the road so they would have an unobstructed view of the two guard towers. They would also be far out of the light from the compound. Seeing a third guard sitting outside one of the doors, Chapman detailed another to keep an eye on him.

  There were no guards around the gate end of the compound. The open door actually cut both ways. It allowed the men to see in, but also left them exposed to be seen from inside. It would have to be fast. The thunder was helping them by masking a lot of sound. Chapman and Ricks gathered the men on either corner of the compound ready to spring inward.

  The sound of a truck approaching forced the men to retreat back around the side of the wall. The large open truck, its back covered with a tarp, barreled down the mountain and swerved in toward the compound. It came to a screeching halt half way through the open doors. The driver leisurely got out of the cab and walked into the barracks. The men heard some laughter inside.

  Chapman spoke into the radio. “Okay, plan two. Snipers in. Take station under the deuce and a half. Ricks, take four men and get behind that truck. The rest take station on either side. Snipers, let me know when you have a shot. Mason, take your men and keep the rest in the barracks. Everyone use their silencers. If we open up, they will come in from all sides. When I say go, we pounce,” he ordered. The men silently made their way into position and got ready to strike. They were interrupted again by the sound of drums from high up the mountain.

  Suddenly one of the doors swung open and the sergeant began calling his people into the courtyard. The men filed out of the barracks and lined up while two others walked across the yard and went i
nto the door where the hostages were kept. In a moment, the hostages were filed out and lined up against the wall. The sergeant was cursing them the whole way. He drew his pistol. “Now you will all see who is right and who is wrong here. Line them up facing the wall!” he ordered.

  The obviously tired and tormented mayors were placed against the wall. Only one refused to turn around. Sharon Roberts was from New York. She didn’t turn away from anyone.

  “Turn and face the wall!” screamed the sergeant.

  “Fuck you. If I’m gonna die, I’m gonna make you look me in the eye while it happens,” she said defiantly. One by one the others turned around as well.

  The sergeant smiled an evil smile. “My pleasure,” he almost spat. He turned to his men. “Squad. Ready,” he ordered. The men came to attention and brought their rifles up. “Aim!”

  Several of the men lowered their rifles.

  “What in the hell do you think you are doing?” the sergeant screamed. He pointed his pistol at the men. “Do you want to join them? I will gladly shoot you myself,” he shouted. As the men threw their rifles to the ground, the sergeant pointed his pistol at them in a rage.

  Thunder filled the air as the sergeant’s head suddenly exploded, peppering the men nearest him with blood and bits of his brains. The two sentries saw what happened and raised their rifles when they too were suddenly struck and fell to the ground. The remaining men turned to see soldiers pointing their rifles at them and threw down their weapons. As they raised their hands the soldiers quickly ran in and placed them on the ground. Others ran up to the mayors and made sure they were alright.

  Roberts let out a long breath. “My god, I thought we were at an end,” she said, almost collapsing after the experience.

  Making a quick count, Chapman turned to the others. We have all fourteen. Let’s get them out of here. Kay May stopped them short. “It’s only thirteen. This man is a former guard who tried to help us,” she said pointing to Donado.

  “Who’s missing?” asked Chapman.

  “Where’s Patricia?” asked Ricks, looking through the crowd of people.

  “She was taken this morning,” said Roberts. “You’ve got to hurry. They took her up to be a sacrifice just like poor Mitchell,” she said pointing up the hill.

  Chapman didn’t wait. “Mason, take five men and get these people in the back of that truck. Get them to the airfield as quick as you can. Ricks, get the rest of the men and pile into this vehicle here. We need to get up that hill.

  Quickly subduing the soldiers in the compound, the men boarded the vehicles and took off. As thunder continued to sound in the night, Chapman only hoped he would be in time.

  At the small airfield, a young sub lieutenant sat back in the small office waiting for the presidential jet from Cuba to arrive. One of the men shouted that a set of lights could be seen in the air, coming toward the small field. He immediately ordered the fires lit along the runway. There were no electric lights, but the men had dug a trench along the sides of the runway and had filled them with oil. On his order, two men lit torches and made their way to the edges of the runways and lit the oil.

  The flames spread down the entire length of the runway to help the pilot guide the aircraft in. The men watched as the lights grew closer and the sound of the engines grew louder. Suddenly lights came on the aircraft illuminating the sides and tail. They proclaimed the aircraft belonged to Cubana Airlines, the airline of Cuba. It settled toward the ground and as it came over the end of the runway, the fires in the trenches illuminated the lower parts of the aircraft. Wheels touched the ground and the engines were quickly reversed so that the plane would stop before the runway ended.

  Despite its size, the aircraft came to a halt in front of the small office. The end of the runway was much larger so that aircraft could turn around and it contained extra space for a helicopter landing pad. The pilot used his wheels and engines to turn the giant plane and remain on the paved surface. Once around, the lights were extinguished and the engines shut down.

  The sub lieutenant lined his people up and brought them to attention to pay proper respect to the President of Cuba. From the other side of the aircraft a squad of United States Marines quickly ran around the tail and surprised the waiting soldiers. Once the area was secure, the giant rear ramp was lowered and made ready. With luck, the hostages would arrive soon.

  The truck arrived just outside the ceremonial village. Chapman was surprised that no one was guarding the entrance. Using hand signals, he had the remaining team quickly exit the trucks and fan out. The drums were loud and the voices of several hundred men and women were heard singing and chanting as the ceremony was taking place. Chapman ordered one squad around the buildings on the low side and Ricks took the other to the high side.

  The top of the hill was made up of a number of adobe style buildings forming a “U” shape around the central courtyard. Other smaller huts were sprinkled farther in the trees. Making their way between the buildings, they came up on a soldier leaning against the side of a building. Catching a glimpse of the intruders, he turned and aimed his weapon. Ricks pulled the trigger of his silenced pistol twice and the man went down. There was a ladder going up to the roof of one of the buildings. Ricks sent Miller up top to get a perch. Two buildings down, he sent up another sniper. Reporting them in place, he and the rest of his squad found themselves at the far end of the courtyard. There before them was a spectacle Ricks had only expected to see in a place like Disney World. All across the front of the court were people dancing and chanting as the fires burned and the drums beat out their rhythm. In the center of the stage was a huge obelisk. Just like the photos, there was a post in front of it. All along the walls were men dressed in colorful ceremonial gear. They were obviously watching the crowd and urging their participation. Like Aztec cheerleaders, they jumped and shouted with the beat, calling out some and encouraging even more. The Team found itself behind the crowd and was so far unmolested. Two men were seen on top of the far buildings carrying rifles. With Chapman’s order, both men dropped from sight.

  No one knew if the ceremony was winding up or getting started until out of a far door, Parente appeared, dressed in his ceremonial gear and covered in gold. The occasional thunder helped him by making the crowd believe something far more powerful was happening tonight. He slowly walked to the front of the crowd, lifting his arms towards heaven and calling out to the crowd. The people stopped dancing and listened as he began chanting in some ancient tongue. With a mighty swish of sound and a clap of thunder, the drums began again as smoke exited the corners of the obelisk and rose skyward, temporarily obscuring the top. Lights got brighter as the smoke rose. Suddenly, from the ground, it seemed the obelisk had opened up and Wei stood, shimmering in the bright light at the top. From the ground, the people could not see the giant ark lamps illuminating the god, but the light was reflected back down to them so intensely, it almost hurt to look at.

  Wei lifted his staff and waved it over the crowd. The crowd responded with even louder cheers as their god showered his blessings on them. Suddenly from a door on the opposite side, two men dragged Patricia Crowell Hammond bodily across the court to the post in front of the obelisk. Despite her struggling, they bound her to the post with gold rope.

  As she struggled against her bindings the dancing and the chanting resumed as the cheerleaders by the buildings began again in earnest. As Wei looked on, Parente began his swirling dance before the crowd. The men of the team knew it would be soon.

  Ricks suddenly turned to one of his men and called for the cloak. He quickly donned the canvas-like garment and attached the battery pack. In a minute, the computer kicked in and the cloak began to match the surrounding area.

  Ricks touched his communicator. “Captain, I’m going in. Keep these guys off me,” he said as he attached the Velcro fasteners and stepped into the open and moved toward the crowd.

  Parente stopped his dance and moved to a small table. He picked up an obsidian knife and raised it
into the air. The crowd began to scream in approval, drowning out another loud clap of thunder. He took the knife in his hands and slowly moved toward Patricia, still struggling to get free. As he came face to face with her, he murmured, “This will end you and your husband’s torment.” An evil smile crossed his face as he slowly raised the knife in both hands.

  Patricia watched in horror as the weapon of her death was raised, ready to plunge into her chest. Her eyes followed the knife as he slowly raised it above her head.

  “I have a shot,” said Miller into his headset.

  “Take it,” ordered Chapman.

  The rifle was silenced. No shot rang in the air.

  Parente suddenly saw the obsidian knife fall, in pieces, and shatter on the stones at his feet. He felt something run down his arms. Looking up, he saw the blood rushing down from his shattered hands. The realization brought the pain and he collapsed to the ground at Patricia’s feet. The cries from the crowd changed when they saw their chief priest bleeding on the ground.

  There was a scream at the back of the crowd and the people turned to see what appeared to be an apparition float across the courtyard toward the front of the stage. It appeared to be something invisible, but the delay in the computer made the image seem totally unearthly. The frightened spectators began moving out of the way as it passed through them. A soldier appeared with his rifle in hand. Without a sound he suddenly dropped dead to the ground along with a second who came out of one of the buildings. Now the spectators began to scream.

  Fleeing the specter, the people left a clear path for Ricks to get to Patricia. She opened her eyes and stared in wonder as the ‘spirit’ came directly in front of her.

  “The cavalry has arrived,” said Ricks under the garment.

  A puzzled look came over her face. “Dale?” she asked faintly.

 

‹ Prev