by Matt Rogers
Was this the end?
He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. He had no idea where Norton was. He could only descend. Another double-footed kick, another couple of metres toward the muddy bottom of the river.
Lungs aching.
Shoulder burning.
Head throbbing.
There was an enormous impact above, like a bass drum tearing through King’s chest. Fifteen tons of metal hitting the surface. He heard it, but saw nothing. With no knowledge of whether he had done enough to get clear, he kicked a final time and braced himself for whatever happened next.
The wreckage smashed into him with indescribable force.
For a brief moment, he thought he’d made it far enough away from the impact zone. He hadn’t. The water above him definitely slowed the chopper’s descent; otherwise, he would have been killed upon impact. The Super Stallion broke through the water just slow enough so that King felt every ounce of it crushing his back, tearing every last bubble of air from his lungs, throwing him off to the side, spinning helplessly.
It felt like he’d been hit head on by a freight train.
He came to a halt underwater moments later, every single nerve ending screaming in pain. He knew he was still conscious, and he thought he might be paralysed. He prayed he wasn’t. If his legs didn’t work he would try helplessly to reach the surface, lungs slowly failing, vision slowly dimming, until his air finally ran out and he succumbed to drowning.
He kicked, ignoring the voice in his head that told him to just give up, to stop fighting against the pain, to let death take him so he could finally be relieved of the agony that had plagued him over the last twenty-four hours. His feet responded. He wasn’t crippled. Not yet, anyway. Unaware of the extent of his injuries, he swam toward fresh air.
He broke the surface with a gasp. Beside him the Super Stallion rested vertically, its nose buried into the bottom of the river, its tail protruding from the surface. The tail rotor spun, still in the process of powering down. He saw Norton re-appear on the other side of the wreckage.
‘Did it hit you?’ King said, his voice quaking.
Norton shook his head. ‘No.’
King sighed, relief flooding his thoughts. The boy was okay. That was all that mattered. ‘Let’s get to shore.’
They swam side-by-side, paddling for the riverbank. Norton looped a hand around King’s waist, helping him along. He could tell King was seriously injured. When they crawled onto flat ground King collapsed into the mud, small waves still lapping at his torso. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the cloudless sky. By now the sun had fully risen and the jungle came alive with the sounds of wildlife. In any other scenario, it would be a pleasant setting.
‘H-how bad are you hurt?’ Norton stammered. He lay next to King, clutching his shoulder. It still ran with blood after being grazed by the bullet earlier.
‘I don’t know, kid,’ King said, his eyes closed. ‘Pretty bad.’
‘Will you make it?’
‘I hope so,’ he said. He smiled, despite everything. ‘Wouldn’t be a great story if I finally finished what I set out to do and then dropped dead.’
Norton laughed. ‘Is there more backup coming?’
‘I hope so,’ he said again.
‘Do you still have that phone you used before?’
King reached down and patted his waistband, where he’d tucked the device in earlier that morning. He found nothing.
‘It’s gone. Must have slipped out somewhere. Let’s hope whoever’s coming knows where to look.’
He opened his eyes and looked at Norton. After everything that had happened, after all the death the boy had witnessed, after all the injuries he’d sustained, he appeared to be doing okay. His expression was one of resignation. King knew he was in shock. When they were safe, the emotions would come flooding in.
For now, he would manage.
The pair lapsed into silence, watching the river flow past the demolished chopper. King dragged himself a little further up the riverbank. Pain receptors flared all over his body. He wasn’t sure exactly where he was hurt the worst. It was impossible to pinpoint. Everything ached.
‘Uh, King,’ Norton said.
King looked at him. Norton was staring somewhere behind him, at the tree line. His face had turned paler than usual. Something was wrong. Hindered by his injures, King slowly craned his neck. Following Norton’s gaze.
His heart skipped a beat.
Unarmed, unable to move, completely vulnerable, he watched as the two Phantoms who’d pursued them just minutes earlier stepped out of the jungle onto the riverbank. Both held their Kalashnikovs at shoulder height, barrels aimed directly at them.
There was no escaping this time.
CHAPTER 34
King took a deep breath. It could be the last he ever took. Beside him, Norton cried.
He saw the men pause. They observed the scene before them. The giant Super Stallion, demolished, buried in the river. The pair of helpless Americans resting on the shore. King saw something in their faces he didn’t expect to see.
Hesitation.
One of them stepped forward. This man was tall and skinny, wearing a combat vest, khaki shorts and tattered trainers. He sported a buzzcut, hair shaved close to the skull. His eyes were wide with fear as he aimed his rifle at King.
‘I speak English,’ he said. ‘Little bit.’
‘What’s your name?’ King said.
‘Paulo.’
‘I’m Jason.’
‘Where’s Mabaya?’
King pointed at the Super Stallion. ‘Somewhere in there. In a million pieces.’
‘Dead?’
King nodded.
Paulo spent a moment mulling over what he had heard. Then he threw his gun away.
King found it hard to believe what he was seeing. The Phantom turned to his friend and barked a command in Spanish, and the second man also dropped his weapon. Paulo remained where he stood, contemplating what to do next.
‘Do you have weapon on you?’ he said in broken English.
King did his best to raise his hands. It hurt like hell, but he had to prove he was telling the truth. ‘No weapons. I’m done.’
‘I’m done too.’
Paulo began to descend the riverbank. His trainers flooded with mud, but he didn’t seem to care. He stumbled alongside King and dropped to the ground. He stared out across the river.
‘Why did you do that?’ King said.
‘What is point?’ Paulo said. ‘I kill you, your friends come and kill me. They know where we are. Why more death?’
King was taken aback by the sentiment, but he didn’t let it show. ‘Do you understand why I did what I did?’
‘Of course,’ Paul said, nodding. ‘We take your friends. We kill some of them. No excuse.’
King stayed quiet.
‘Do you know why we do that?’ Paulo said.
King shook his head. ‘No, I don’t.’
‘We die otherwise. No other jobs. Mabaya tell us what to do. If we don’t, he kill us.’
‘All of you?’ King said.
Paulo shook his head. ‘Most of them want to do this. This man, Marco—,’ Paulo said, pointing to the second Phantom, ‘— he is my brother. We did not. We thought we would die. But we have to do what Mabaya say. Only way we get paid.’
‘There’s other ways to make money.’
‘Not for us,’ Paulo said. ‘He kill my family.’
Paulo bowed his head and began to sob. King laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘It’s okay. I’ll make sure you two are safe.’
‘How?’
‘I know people.’
Paulo turned to Norton. ‘I am sorry.’
Norton didn’t respond. King could tell the boy did not know what to say. But there was something resembling understanding in his eyes. Norton could see the pain on Paulo’s face.
‘What happens now?’ Paulo said.
King made to respond, but felt the blood drain from his head. A wave of e
xhaustion fell over him. The trees and the mud and the water blurred into a kaleidoscope of bright colours and he felt his head drop back against the shore. He gratefully passed out.
CHAPTER 35
He came to surrounded by the roar of a helicopter.
The world felt distant. Still feeling the effects of his unconscious spell, King watched a UH-60 Black Hawk touch down on the mud a dozen feet away from them. Norton, Paulo and Marco sat still as the rotors powered down and the fuselage door slid open. Three Delta Force soldiers stepped down and headed for their position, all dressed in combat attire and clutching identical Colt M4 carbine rifles.
Paulo began to shake uncontrollably.
‘Don’t worry,’ King said. ‘Trust me, you’ll be fine.’
When the group reached them, one soldier stepped forward. ‘Jason King?’
King nodded.
The soldier extended a hand. King took it and was pulled to his feet. He winced in pain.
‘My name’s Barnes,’ the man said. ‘We’ve been sent in to assist with the extraction and lock down the area.’
‘There’s nothing left to lock down.’
Barnes hesitated. He looked out across the river and noticed the end of the Super Stallion rocking gently in the current. ‘Is that—?’
‘The first five Delta soldiers who got here are all dead. Their bodies are somewhere near the compound. They were shot.’
‘Hostiles?’
‘All dead too.’
King noticed Paulo glance at him, surprised. He made sure not to react.
‘Who are these two?’ Barnes said, gesturing to Paulo and Marco.
‘Civilians. I found them being kept hostage inside the warehouse. They won’t talk. We’ll give them a lift to Iquitos and let them go.’
‘Shouldn’t we take them to—?’
‘And do what?’ King interrupted. ‘Interview them? They’ve been through enough. The Phantoms have been eradicated. There’s nothing left to question them about.’
Barnes nodded. ‘Very well. Where are the hostages?’
King pointed to Norton. ‘Here’s one. The other two didn’t make it.’
Barnes bowed his head. After a moment, he looked up. ‘Are you hurt?’
There was no need to be unnecessarily stoic. ‘Yeah. I’ll need a hospital when we get back to Iquitos.’
‘Let’s get you four back home.’
The three soldiers helped them into the Black Hawk. King was tentative as he climbed into the fuselage and dropped into one of the hard plastic seats. He fastened the safety belt across his waist and let his head fall back against the wall behind.
‘What a day,’ he muttered.
Norton collapsed in the seat beside him, exhausted too. Paulo and Marco sat opposite. Their expressions were fearful. King didn’t blame them. For years they had probably been conditioned to treat any Americans as the enemy. Mabaya was unrelenting in his hatefulness, which King guessed rubbed off on his underlings. Now, here they were inside one of their enemy’s helicopters, going off nothing but a promise from the man who had decimated their forces.
‘I need to make a call,’ King said as Barnes leapt into the fuselage.
The man nodded knowingly. He didn’t know who King worked for, but he knew its authority trumped all other branches. He had been instructed to follow King’s requests, no matter how ludicrous. A call was understandable. He unclipped a Garmin satellite phone from his belt — this one newer and cleaner than the battered old device King had used in the jungle — and handed it over.
King thumbed the same buttons and followed the same procedure as he had the previous evening, passing on his identification code and connecting to Lars.
The man answered before the first ring. ‘Yes?’
‘We lost the four Delta soldiers. And the pilot. They’re all dead.’
‘Fuck.’
‘We’ve been extracted by a second crew. Did you send them?’
‘As backup. Just to make sure things went smoothly.’
‘Far from smooth, Lars. But all hostiles are eliminated. It’ll be a mess down there.’
‘We have cleaning crew.’
‘Use them. That was messy. There’s a lot of dead bodies.’
‘It was brash to go on alone after the airfield attack. Delta are telling me you should have waited.’
‘If I had, I can’t say the boy would have made it out alive. I think they would have all been killed.’
‘I agree. You’re lucky we exist, King. Any other branch and you’d be held accountable. You’d probably spend the rest of your life in jail.’
‘I know.’
‘I’ll make it all disappear. You did good, soldier. Patch yourself up and get back here as fast as you can.’
‘Another mission?’
‘Another mission.’
King ended the call and sighed. The world didn’t wait for him to get better. Corrupt psychopaths kept doing their thing. As long as he was serving, the stream of assignments would not end. There was too much evil in the world.
He felt the familiar stomach drop as the chopper lifted off the ground and banked west, toward Iquitos. Paulo and Marco shared looks of astonishment as they gazed out across the sea of green treetops stretching as far as the eye could see. He imagined they didn’t spend much time in helicopters. He saw a single tear roll down Paulo’s cheek, and tried not to let one of his own out. This was a new life for the brothers sitting opposite him. A fresh start, free from the influence of the Phantoms. King hoped they would do something with it. He would not be around to see it.
As always, Black Force needed him.
CHAPTER 36
Secada Airport was quiet at ten in the morning. The Black Hawk touched down on the airfield an hour after it left the Amazon Rainforest. King looked out at the tarmac and in the distance saw the big blocky shape of the airport terminal. For much of the last twenty-four hours he had been sure he would never see civilisation again. He thought he would die out in the rainforest, alone and in pain.
Every now and then, he couldn’t help but be grateful.
A white minivan sped towards the Black Hawk. It sported the airport’s logo on its side. An official vehicle.
‘Who’s that?’ King said to Barnes as they disembarked the chopper.
‘I think the kid’s parents arrived this morning. I’d say its them.’
The airport official driving the van stamped to a halt a dozen feet from them. The rear door of the van burst open and a middle-aged couple jumped out, both their faces distraught. They saw Norton and instantly the mother burst into tears. She was a small lady with a mousy complexion. There was unquestionable relief in her eyes. The father was a balding man who King could see struggling to maintain a stoic demeanour. It did not last. As soon as Norton saw his parents he took off across the tarmac and wrapped an arm around them both. They cried into his shoulders, pulling him tight. King watched the scene unfold with a certain disconnect.
He’d never had that kind of relationship.
Barnes laid a hand on King’s shoulder. ‘You think he’s gonna be alright?’
King shrugged. ‘I don’t know. He saw a lot. But he’s tough. He stuck with me the whole way.’
‘He’d be dead if it wasn’t for you.’
‘Hopefully, he goes on to do great things,’ King said. ‘Then I can be that guy who saved Ben Norton.’
Barnes chuckled. ‘Where are you off to now?’
‘Hospital. Then the Pentagon.’
‘More work?’
‘As always.’
‘I hope they’re paying you well. Whoever they are…’
Norton’s parents let go of their son and walked over to the two soldiers.
‘How did you get him out?’ the woman asked both of them. She didn’t know who had saved her son. Just that he was safe. King knew he had to keep it that way.
‘I hope you understand that we can’t go into too much detail,’ Barnes said. ‘For operational security. But your bo
y is safe, ma’am. He’s seen a lot, but he’s safe. Take care of him.’
King turned to Barnes. ‘You got this?’
Barnes nodded.
With that, King turned and climbed back into the Black Hawk.
‘How much fuel have we got?’ he asked the pilot.
‘Enough to get you to the hospital.’
‘Then let’s go.’
The chopper’s rotors powered up. There was nothing further left to say. He had done his job. Rescued Ben Norton. Now it was time to go. King never let himself get personally attached to anyone he saved. It was his job to extract them, nothing more.
Norton came running over to the chopper.
‘You’re out of here?’ he said.
King looked down at him. ‘I’m needed elsewhere.’
‘I can’t say thank you enough.’
‘You don’t need to.’
Norton held out a hand. King shook it. He held eye contact for a moment. ‘Take care of yourself, Ben.’
‘You too, King.’
They both could not put into words the bond they shared. Not many people experienced the fight for survival alongside each other. They would always remember that.
King nodded once more, then the Black Hawk lifted off the tarmac and moved laterally through the air.
Onto the next task.
JASON KING WILL RETURN…
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