by Scott Cook
“Nothin’ is ever just friggin’ easy…” I cranked.
I could reach up and push the hatch, but not quite enough to get it past the stringers. I sighed and cupped my hands for Missy. She understood immediately and stepped up and placed one hand on my head and used her other to push the hatch open. The blackness above was inky black and impenetrable and a whiff of mustiness wafted down to us.
“I hope there are no spiders…” Missy groaned as she reached up and took hold of the wooden stringers with both hands. “I hate spiders…”
I chuckled in spite of the situation, “That’s what you’re afraid of? Not Nicaraguan rebels or armed baddies… but spiders.”
“Hey, even Indiana Jones hated snakes,’ She complained as I heaved her feet upward.
Missy closed the hatch and I went out into the hallway, my own Sig Sauer P226 in my hand. As far as I could tell, none of the men had gotten into the house yet. I crouched low and began to inch up the hallway toward the unknown dangers that awaited me.
I’d rather have been yarding down it, but what can you do? If you choose to be a Jarvis, then you have to come to grips with the fact that trouble is your bread and butter. That when danger rears its ugly head, you’re the schmuck who has to walk up and give it a big ole smooch.
This was not a good tactical situation to say the least. I was in an unsecured location being attacked by an unknown number of assailants. In spite of the locks, they could easily break any one of the windows, shoot the locks off the doors and come in from multiple angles. I couldn’t cover every contingency. If there were more than two or three of them, I could be in serious trouble.
The house was a little less than two thousand square feet. It was laid out in a simple design. There were four bedrooms down a long hallway along with a bathroom. The master had its own bathroom as well. The hall opened onto a large living room that faced the front of the house. Off of this was an open dining room that led into a large kitchen with a wraparound bar that faced the dining room and living room. Off the dining section was a large rectangular family room that sort of stuck out into the back yard and had windows on three sides. There was also an attached two-car garage whose inner door opened into the family room.
The garage…
I’d locked the back door in the kitchen that led out onto a small deck in back and the front door. Yet the garage itself might not be locked. The inner door might be open as well.
Everything was silent. The house had an air conditioning system, but it wasn’t running. There was almost no need in this area of Costa Rica for either AC or heat. As far as I knew, all the windows were closed and locked, but I couldn’t be sure.
The silence was maddening. These men knew somebody was here. The Jeep was parked in the driveway. And it was no small coincidence that fifteen minutes after we arrived, men from the people’s Army of Liberation come over the wall. They’d probably been casing the house since they grabbed Clay.
The silence was broken by multiple Spanish exclamations. I couldn’t tell what they said, as the words were muffled by the walls of the house, but I had a pretty good idea of the intent. I also heard more than one man’s voice as well.
The front door flew open. I didn’t hear anything strike the lock, though. So they’d either picked it or shot it out when I was boosting Missy into the attic. I was crouching low near the mouth of the hallway with the sofa blocking me. I had my head just high enough to see that the door was standing wide open but no one filled it.
Then I heard the inner door to the garage open to my right. The seal squealed a bit as someone pushed it open. Not good. One open entry to my left and one to my right, and me with only one weapon to cover them both.
“Hola!” Someone called from the front, just beyond my view. “Anybody home? Are you in there, señor Jarvis?”
I recognized that voice. It sounded very much like the man I’d spoken to the night before. It sounded very much like Manuel Garcia.
I caught movement out of the corner of my right eye. A man was leaning around the archway into the family room with a pistol in his hand. I quickly trained my weapon on him. He saw me and froze.
I was definitely in a bad spot. At the same instant, another man stepped into the front doorway and pointed a pistol at me as well. This man was of medium height and build and sported a trimmed beard that matched his curly hair. He looked to be in his forties. He also had a bandage of some kind over his nose. I had no doubt as to this man’s identity.
“Don’t shoot,” He said with a smile.
“Garcia?” I asked.
“We meet at last,” He said amiably. “I’ve heard some things about you, señor. Very impressive things. Not to mention your daring raid on my segundo camp last night. And how you and the Gunny bested two of my teams.”
The Gunny?
“Drop your weapon,” I ordered.
Garcia only laughed, “You’re a brave man, Jarvis. I like that. Yet as you see, both Oscar and I have you covered. You can’t shoot us both. You certainly can’t shoot all three of us.”
I felt a twitch in my guts. He hadn’t made a slip. And when I heard the creak of a floor board down the hall behind me, I knew that I was surrounded. Another one must have come in through one of the bedroom windows. I cursed myself for not checking them all. Not that I had much time to do so, but still…
“Ponerlo abajo, Cabrón,” A gruff voice said from behind me as something cool and hard touched the back of my neck.
I sighed and let my pistol drop to the hardwood floor, “your friend called me a bad name, Garcia. Now is that any way to begin a friendship?”
Garcia stepped in and closed the door behind him. He laughed heartily, “I apologize for Rafael, señor. His manners are deplorable… but I let that pass because he is an excellent shot. Please stand up. You look uncomfortable.”
I stood and moved around to sit on the sofa with my back to the hall. Rafael came and stood behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know his gun was aimed at me.
“So can I get you anything?” I asked casually, crossing my legs. “Clay hasn’t had much time to stock the place, but there is some shitty beer in the fridge. If I’d have known you were bringing guests, I’d have prepared a beautiful soufflé.”
Garcia chuckled and shook his head, “You and Clay are very much alike. He believes he’s amusing, too.”
“He is,” I said, “but I’m funnier. I’m also a lot meaner. Something you should keep in mind, pendejo.”
“Perhaps,” Garcia said lightly. “Yet here you are surrounded by three armed men, Jarvis.”
“That’s true… it hardly seems fair.”
“No, it’s not meant to be,” Garcia stated.
“Oh, I meant for you,” I said coldly. “You should bring in a few more guys to even the odds.”
He roared with laughter then and sat in an easy chair, “Very good! But this is only a friendly visit. It’s just Oscar, Rafael and myself.”
“Breaking into a house with guns in your hands isn’t what I’d call friendly,” I jeered.
Garcia shrugged, “if this were an attack, señor, then you wouldn’t be alive now.”
“I applaud your restraint, then. What can I do for you, Garcia?”
“I’m curious about you, Jarvis,” Garcia said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. “I wanted to meet my opponent. To size him up, you might say.”
“Don’t smoke in here,” I said sternly. “This isn’t your goddamned house. And we’re not opponents, Garcia. You return Clay and Declan and we can be friends… if you don’t… well, then you’re going to be very, very sorry.”
Both Oscar and Garcia laughed. Rafael didn’t. He might not understand English. Garcia translated for him as he went ahead and lit his smoke. Rafael only snorted derisively and jammed the barrel of his gun into my neck.
“You seem to speak very good English,” I told Garcia. “So I know you heard what I said. This is a non-smoking house.”
Garcia s
hrugged and made a show of puffing and blowing his noxious smoke, “you amuse me, Jarvis. Here you are, surrounded by three men with guns and yet you talk as if it were us who are in your power.”
I stared. Garcia watched me stare.
“You are in my power,” I told him flatly, never breaking eye contact. “Now why don’t you get to the point of this little interview, Manny, while you still have breath to speak.”
Garcia leaned back and chuckled, “Very well, Mr. Bond. I have an offer to make.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You know that I have Clay and his son,” Garcia continued. “I’ve made Clay a Gunnery Sergeant in my army. You’ve probably already guessed why I need him, have you not?”
I nodded, “Of course. I’ve also guessed who’s backing you.”
“Have you?” He asked bemusedly. “Interesting. Well, you also know I have the boy. Your friend is there to help me sharpen my blade before I put it to use…”
“And Declan is there to leash his father,” I finished coldly. “Poetic, Manny, but ultimately self-defeating.”
Garcia frowned. I don’t think he liked my familiarity, “Oh? I think I’m in a very good position.”
“Of course you do,” I stated. “All villains are inherently self-delusional. Why should you be any different?”
“Because I’m no villain!” Garcia snapped, his face reddening with righteous indignation. “I’m fighting for the freedom of my people, Jarvis! Do you know what kind of hellhole my country has been for longer than I’ve been alive?”
I scoffed, “Spare me your George Washington routine, Manecito. You’re a thug, nothing more. You’re just another version of Ortega.”
“Don’t compare me to that porcina!” Garcia all but howled. “That pedazo de mierda is nothing more than a murderer and rapist!”
“And what are you!?” I roared, gripping the cushions of the sofa to keep myself from springing to my feet. I was suddenly as angry as Garcia was. “You dare to point your fuckin’ finger at anybody else! What about Jennifer Jeffries, Hah? Your freedom fighters took turns raping that woman! You kidnapped that couple and three other American women to be sold into slavery. To fund your movement, right? But that’s perfectly okay, hah? Long as you get to step into the big mansion when it’s all done. Long as you’re the head madicon instead of Daniel Ortega, the ends justify the means, I suppose. You’re nothing more than a hypocritical, lying, megalomaniacal terrorist!”
His red face had gone pale now. I probably shouldn’t have pushed him so far, but I was not going to sit there and listen to his bullshit. After a moment where the man fought for self-control, he finally seemed to relax enough to speak.
“I’m in a war,” he said calmly. “In war, bad things must be done. I didn’t know about that Australian woman until after the fact. Those men have been punished, this I guarantee.”
“Tell Jen that,’ I needled. “I’m sure it’ll make her feel so much better.”
Garcia chuckled softly, “Perhaps I will, Jarvis. Since I’m fully aware of where you took those people. Where Missy and the girls are staying.”
“Uh-huh,”
“So we get back to my offer,” Garcia said, visibly relaxing even more and once again making a show of enjoying his smoke. “I can use trained men. Men like your friend and yourself. Rather than fighting against me… why not join my cause. Help me fight for the freedom of a repressed people, Jarvis. Surely that must appeal to a man like you.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help myself, “You’re shittin’ me, right? Even if I were interested in that, Garcia, I’ve got a life of my own. I’ve got no interest in living in Nicaragua and fighting a losing battle against a superior force.”
“The underdog is often sympathetic, no?”
“If you’d contacted my friend Clay or myself,” I said patiently, “and asked for help or advice… something could’ve been arranged perhaps. Hell, even the U.S. government might have been able to back you.”
He scoffed, “Just like in the 1980’s, huh? I don’t think so.”
“Whatever. Instead, you kidnap innocent people and use them as leverage to try and get what you want,” I declared. “You fucked up, Garcia. You’ve simply created enemies on multiple fronts, now. What’ve you got, a couple of hundred men and women in your little army? You’ve got an American backer who is funding you to help you build that army… but you’re going up against the national Nicaraguan military! What’ve they got, ten or fifteen thousand men and women? A navy, an air force and an army? And on top of that, you’ve pissed off Clay and by extension me. You have no idea what you’ve set in motion, Garcia. So as I said before, you’re in a bad position. I urge you to give Clay and Declan up. Bring them back unharmed and maybe something can be worked out. Don’t… and I will destroy you. That’s my offer.”
Garcia laughed derisively now, “Jarvis, you talk brave, but you’re a fool. Remember, I’ve got what you want and I’ve even got leverage over him. Try anything and all you’ll do is put your friend and his son at risk. I need Clay, but I can find other mercenaries. I promise you that if you interfere in my business, your friend and the boy will pay the ultimate price. I realize you’re not going to join my cause… but do not interfere!”
“You mother fucker!”
My heart seemed to skip a beat as this shriek of rage seemed to fill the house. It was followed immediately by a rapid series of shots fired from a non-silenced semi-automatic 9mm pistol. Missy had come down from the attic and was out of her mind with fury.
I dove to my left, launching myself toward the far end of the couch and smashing over the end table and lamp in the process. I didn’t remember Rafael picking up my weapon, and I hoped that I could circle back and grab it before anybody could put a bullet in Missy or myself.
As I rolled to my knees between the back of the sofa and the south wall of the living room that bordered the first bedroom, I saw Rafael pitch forward over the sofa and land where I’d been sitting a moment before. I didn’t see Missy yet, but I knew she’d be in the hallway. I looked around frantically but didn’t see my Sig, at least not at first.
Oscar was gone from the archway into the family room. He’d either been hit and I couldn’t see where his body had landed or he’d ducked into the garage. I dropped to the floor just in time to avoid three quick shots that splintered the paneled wall behind the angled sofa. Garcia shouted something and his gun roared out twice more.
“Missy!” I hollered.
“I got the other guy!” she shouted back.
I moved to the other end of the sofa and risked a peek over the back. The front door stood open but Garcia was gone. I heard an engine start outside and tires spin in gravel and then the vehicle roared off into the distance.
“Are you okay?” Missy asked as she stepped out from the hallway, her weapon’s barrel smoking.
I stood and looked around. I could now see a pair of feet in the archway between the dining room and the family room. That would be Oscar. Rafael lay half on and half off the sofa, staining it with his blood. His pistol lay on the throw rug near his head and mine lay on the bloody sofa cushion near his legs. I picked it up.
“Oh, I’m as right as rain, Rambett… you?”
She nodded and proceeded to replace her spent magazine, “I didn’t stay hidden.”
“No shit?” I asked casually.
“I heard the other guy sneaking in the window,” Missy explained, beginning to shake now. “I figured it was a flanking move. I thought you might need my help.”
“You thought right,” I said, gathering her in my arms. “It’s going to be okay, kid.”
She started to sob, the stress of the moment and the realization that she’d just killed two men were sinking in, “Oh, God, Scott… what’s happening!? That bastard! He’ll kill Clay and Dec if…”
I held her tight and stroked her hair, “Take it easy, Missy, take it easy. He was just blustering. He’s not going to harm his asset any more than he’ll piss off his backer,
be that Miles or Andrea. I think this was more about coming face to face with me and sizing up the competition. He sure as shit didn’t count on Laura Croft coming in blasting.”
She chuckled and sniffed, “I just killed two men…”
“And you feel bad about it,” I stated.
“Well… sort of… but I’m also glad.”
I chuckled too, “I knew you was a tough’n. Felt good to get a little payback, didn’t it?”
She nodded against my chest, “Does that make me a bad person?”
“It makes you human,” I soothed. “That man has done a lot to you and your family. It’s natural to want to fight back.”
She eased away and wiped her eyes, “Oh… Jesus… they’re really dead…”
I guided her into the bathroom in the hall, “Here, blow your nose and wash your face. Take a moment and center yourself. Then go around and make sure every single window and door is locked. I’m gonna check out the outside again. I think Garcia is gone, though.”
After a few moments, we met again. Missy had cleaned up a bit but she still seemed a bit frazzled. I held her some more until she broke the embrace.
“Thanks.”
“What are big brothers for,” I quipped.
“Yeah, more like kid brothers,” she half-heartedly joked. “Some vacation this turned out to be.”
“You mean this wasn’t the international travel experience Clay promised?” I quipped.
“’Oh, come on Missy… it’ll be great… Excitement, adventure and really wild things,’” Missy quoted. “I guess that’s technically true…”
“Women,” I mock grumbled. “You’re never happy, are ya’?”
She punched me in the arm, “Ass. So now what?”
I blew out my breath, “Well, I frisk the bodies. Then… I don’t know. I hope none of your neighbors called the cops… if there are cops… right now, that’s the last thing we need. Why don’t you straighten up a bit while I check them out.”
“Yeah, house is a little messy.”
I scoffed, “That’s what happens when you shoot up the joint.”
“Hey, I was mad!” She protested.