by H. L. Wegley
Using the flashes of lightning when they came, relying on pure luck when they didn’t, Drew ran recklessly toward the screams. Since he was running downhill, he approached the lights and commotion in a couple of minutes.
But was he in time?
He slowed and crept from tree to tree, trying to gain a position that gave him a view of Suarez and his men.
A shadowy figure leaped at him from behind a bush.
Drew swung his rifle with all his strength.
It cracked on the man’s skull and drove his head into the ground.
Drew knelt and looked at the gash on the man’s head and then studied his chest. He wasn’t breathing.
Drew had killed a sentry. Did that mean this side of Suarez’s camp was no longer guarded? Maybe.
Drew moved to another tree, closer to Suarez, then jerked to a stop when he saw Beth.
Twenty or thirty men stood around her. Several held flashlights on her.
Suarez had bound her hands then tethered her to a tree on a short length of rope that allowed her to move two or three feet from side to side.
A short, stocky man shoved a stick at her.
Beth screamed.
A rattlesnake buzzed loudly.
Drew now understood both the method of torture and the reason for it. Suarez wanted Drew.
Please, God, help me. Beth doesn't deserve this.
Drew moved closer and stood behind another tree. He could go no further without being seen. He checked both guns and stood.
Drew, I did not make you inferior, but you must find your adequacy in me.
Had he thought those words or heard them? Or, had he recalled them from memory, from a time in the distant past?
I am your strength and your shield. Without me you can accomplish nothing. Some trust in weapons of warfare, but you must trust in me, the Lord your God.
Bits of scripture he had memorized as a child now joined together in a meaningful context. The truth about his past became clear. For Drew, it had been a matter of misplaced trust. Seventeen years of misplaced trust, nearly two decades of trusting his fighting ability more than trusting the Lord his God.
I am the One who goes before you to fight against your enemies to give you the victory.
Outnumbered thirty or forty to one, Drew couldn’t do this on his own. But he must do it for Beth. He would do what he could, even give his life, but God would have to intervene for this to turn out right. God would have to give Drew the victory.
Drew studied the position of each man.
Thirty men stood around Beth. Others probably guarded the area.
He rehearsed his movements, where he would strike, where he would kick, and where he would shoot. He might kill fifteen or twenty before they got him. Regardless, Suarez would be the first to die.
He told Beth that Suarez had scheduled his funeral. And Drew would make good on his promise.
Before he charged Suarez’s camp, Drew prayed that his attack would be enough to spare Beth’s life. That would have to be his victory. It was the best outcome Drew could hope for in an almost hopeless situation.
* * *
The lightning flashed and again the snake went berserk. With its head tied to the stick, it coiled and struck, sending its tail shooting out behind it, but its head remained stationary on the stick.
This allowed the man holding the stick to shove it near Beth’s face, where she could see the fangs open and protrude and the venom drip from them after each attempted strike.
Beth was through screaming because of the snake. Her voice was nearly gone anyway.
She hadn’t tried to remain stoic, hadn’t tried to stifle her screams. If she hadn’t screamed, Suarez would have resorted to something even worse. Eventually, she would scream and Drew would come.
But something had just changed in the group of men enjoying her torture. She listened.
The subject of their talk had changed from the snake to Beth.
“El Capitan, instead of killing her, why don’t you auction her off. I would pay fifty thousand dollars for a woman like her.”
“Maybe I should keep her,” Suarez said. He turned toward her. “Señorita Sanchez, shall I give you the honor of belonging to the CEO of the Del Rio Cartel? He is a wealthy man.”
“I will tell you what you can do with your offer, Hector.”
“Those are not the words that will spare your life, Ms. Sanchez.”
Spare her life? It would be better to die of a snake bite to her neck than to belong to Suarez. Maybe the next time they shoved the snake at her, she would move toward it instead of away.
But she deserved all of this. She had lied to her mother that night, then went with her friends to a place that her parents disapproved of. Beth was away from home, in another town, disobeying her parents, when they were brutally killed by Suarez.
She was getting what she should have gotten eight years ago. At least now the guilt would end … either quickly or slowly.
I know, God, this is what I deserve. But please make them kill me quickly.
She looked up at Suarez.
The twisted smile on his face told her quick was the last thing on his mind.
* * *
Drew had heard enough of the men yelling vile insults at Beth. He had heard enough of her screaming, and he’d seen and heard enough from that blasted rattlesnake.
Drew checked his rifle and handgun one more time.
At least he had the element of surprise. Suarez wouldn’t believe Drew could be so foolhardy as to attack a whole army by himself. But Suarez’s mistaken belief would cost him his life in about thirty seconds.
Drew had asked for help but had seen nothing yet.
Maybe this was one of those times when you had to stick your foot in the Jordan before anything happened.
All the men seemed to be looking at Beth.
Time to put my foot in the water.
He stepped out from behind the tree and took a step toward Suarez.
A hand curled around his face, clamping over his mouth. It yanked him back to the tree.
Fingers like vice grips clamped onto his gun hand.
“Easy, Drew. It's Steve. Steve Bancroft.”
“But how did—”
“Your mom and the kids are safe. We thought you might need me more than they did.’
“They've got Beth and—”
“I know. Now here's what we're going to do.”
Chapter 21
Even with Steve helping Drew, the odds were at least forty to two against them. But Steve was ex-military, an Army Ranger who was the weapons specialist for his team. And his presence brought a mixture of hope and anxiety while sending adrenaline coursing through Drew’s body.
Steve unslung his pack and opened it. “This is stuff left from the martial law and near civil war we had eight years ago.” He pulled out two grenades.
‘These are M84 flashbang grenades.” He pointed through the tree branches to the cluster of men around Beth. “By my count, there are thirty men surrounding Beth. If we hit them with these two grenades, simultaneously, we’ll incapacitate about half and temporarily stun the rest. It should buy us enough time for you to run in and carry her out. Anybody who’s not stunned, or comes in from guarding the perimeter, I’ll take out with my M4.”
This could actually work. Drew’s hope surged as Steve continued his explanation of their plan.
“After we flashbang them, my job is to shoot anybody who looks like they can handle a gun. Your job is to go in, cut Beth’s ties, and carry her back to this spot as fast as is humanly possible. Got a knife?”
Drew nodded. “And I can do that in about fifteen to twenty seconds.”
“I can hold them off that long. It’s no problem, unless somebody close to Beth isn’t impacted much by the grenades.”
“Is that possible?”
“Yes, but not likely. And it’s also why the grenades need to land as close to Beth as we dare.”
“How close is that?”
“Six to ten feet. But no closer.”
Drew picked up one of the grenades and bounced it in his hand. “Do you want me to throw one of these? We could deliver them simultaneously.”
“How’s your arm?”
“I pitched baseball in high school. Had good control.”
Steve dipped his head. “You take the left side of the group and I’ll take the right side. Some people will be blinded, some deafened and dizzy, and a few knocked out. I’m guessing Beth will be nearly knocked out. If we’re lucky, she’ll be looking the other way or will have bodies between her and the flash. Then she’ll recover more quickly. But there is one danger we can’t overlook.”
“Could this kill Beth?”
“No. Not likely. These things are hot when they ignite, so don’t hit Beth. But we could start a forest fire.”
“The lightning’s been threatening to do that all evening. It’s a risk worth taking.”
“Agreed. When you get back here with Beth, we reassess to see if we need to wait a minute or so for her to gain her senses and balance enough to run. If she can’t run, you’ll have to carry her out of here.”
“Which way are we going? Up the ridge?”
“Yes. We’ll retreat toward the ridge behind us and continue westward until we lose them. I’ve got more to tell you, but you need to get her out of there now. That group around her is working itself into a frenzy. Here’s your grenade. Pull the pin on three, by my count, and throw it. Then cover your eyes and ears until both grenades have detonated. And pitcher … we can’t afford a balk. From the time you start, throw the ball in one continuous motion.”
“Got it.” Drew pulled out his pocketknife and palmed it in his left hand.
“Don’t dilly dally after we move out into the open.”
They stepped out from behind the tree.
“Drew, here we go. One … two … three.”
Drew’s strategy was to throw a strike. He threw a fastball at a man who stood six feet to the left of Beth. The grenade hit him in the back.
Drew covered up. But even at this distance, the shock wave slammed his head like a rubber mallet. Then Drew sprinted toward the goal, Beth Sanchez.
Some men lay on the ground. Others staggered around like they couldn’t see. Many covered their ears and slumped over like they were in pain.
Drew wove between them like a running back shredding a bad defensive secondary.
The staccato cracking of Steve’s M4 began with several short bursts.
A gun fired somewhere in the trees.
Steve’s rifle shot a long burst.
The return fire ended.
The rattlesnake stick bounced around among the men as the snake struck, repeatedly, but ineffectively.
Drew jumped over the snake and reached Beth.
She sat on the ground at the base of the tree where they had tethered her.
He slid behind her and cut the tether, then the ties, and scooped her up in his arms.
“Drew …”
That’s all she said, but it was enough for now. It sent him sprinting in Steve’s direction as gunfire erupted all around him.
He scampered past Steve and circled behind the tree for protection.
Steve shot a long burst that must have emptied his magazine.
It temporarily silenced the cartel’s guns.
Steve joined Beth and Drew behind the big tree.
“I’m sorry, Drew. I lied. Please forgive me … stupid … so stupid.” Beth’s first coherent words after the grenades.
“It’s okay, Beth. There won’t be any more arguments like that, ever.”
Steve shoved a magazine into his M4 and laid a hand on Drew’s shoulder. “You two can take care of the relational stuff later. We need to get out of here. They’re about to start shooting again. We’ve got them scared, so they’ll shoot at anything that moves.”
Steve studied Beth for a couple of seconds, then he nodded. “Sorry we had to flash bang you.”
“You had to what? It doesn’t sound decent … whatever it means.”
“Just so you know, I had to flash bang my wife, Julia, once. But that was before we were married. Back when the whole country came unglued.”
Beth sat up in Drew’s arms. He lowered her to the ground.
“What exactly did you do to me? I’m almost afraid to ask.”
“We used a concussion grenade to stun you and all the men around you.” Steve flashed a grin. “Suarez was on my side, so I made sure my grenade landed beside him. He won’t hear well for the rest of the evening. Maybe for the rest of his life. The whole camp is in chaos. But we’ve got to get out of here before he recovers and starts giving orders to his men.”
Drew set Beth on the ground and clamped his hands on her waist to steady her. “Can you stand and walk?”
“Which one? I don’t know if I can do both at the same time.”
“She’s still a little punchy,” Steve said. “Give her about twenty seconds, and I’ll bet she can run with a little assistance.”
Drew hooked her waist and pulled her against his side. “Let’s try a few steps.”
She took off running, pulling Drew with her.
“We’re ready, Steve.”
Steve retreated with them. “Great. Here’s your rifle. You two run up the hill and head west. I’m going to be the decoy. I’ll get them to follow me, so you can get away.”
Steve had saved their lives. He had no stake in this, and Drew couldn’t put him in further danger. “No, Steve. Don't sacrifice yourself.”
“I said decoy, not sacrifice. Big difference.”
Drew wasn’t convinced. He’d heard stories about special forces warfighters who felt driven to take chances, obligated to risk their lives. Others got thrills from intense action, firefights, and camouflaging themselves to sneak up on the enemy and attack them.
“Drew, I did this for a living. These cartel guys aren't well-trained. Besides, if the temperature here was equal to their IQs, you’d have to button up your jacket or freeze. You two go west. You know the area, Drew. Lose these losers. I'll be fine.”
“Steve, I …” He couldn’t find the words to convey what he felt for Steve. “I think … I think God sent you after I demanded that He—”
“I know. Guys in combat do a lot of demanding and a little begging. He understands. Maybe God did send me, but the cartel goons probably think it was the devil.” Steve chuckled.
“Beth and I will be okay, thanks to you. Play it safe, Steve. Don’t take any chances.”
Drew hooked his right arm around Beth’s waist and, with his rifle in his left hand, started the long run up the ridge.
They had freed Beth from the cartel goons. She was with him. But a lot had happened in the past hour. If they both survived the night, would their relationship ever be the same?
Chapter 22
Halfway up the ridge, Drew stopped behind a bushy juniper tree. He put a hand to his brow and scanned the sky. “Something’s happening with the thunderstorm situation. Whatever it is, it’s not good.”
The lightning had become more frequent. Each flash revealed numerous towering thunderstorm cells.
Beth and Drew couldn't move without lightning revealing them to anyone scanning the ridge.
On the positive side, Steve could allow Suarez to see him, making it easier to lead the cartel gunmen away.
Beth leaned over his shoulder and pointed to the plateau below them. “Suarez and his men are following Steve. From the bouncing flashlights, there are twenty or thirty of them.”
“After Steve’s shooting, that’s probably all that are alive.” He nudged Beth up the hill. “We need to get over the ridge and out of sight while they’re still chasing Steve.”
Beth pulled his hand from her waist. “I’m okay now. Race you to the top.”
Drew ran hard while trying to watch Beth ahead of him and the cartel in the area below. He stumbled over a small windfall.
If he didn’t pay more attention
to his feet, he could turn an ankle. That could get them killed.
When he and Beth crossed the ridgeline, a prolonged series of in-cloud lightning flashes lit the ridge around them.
Before he lost sight of the Suarez’s men below, Drew looked back toward them.
Their flashlights had reversed direction and now moved up the ridge toward Beth and him.
Drew stopped to verify his conclusion.
Beth stopped too and looked at him, concern showing on her face with each bolt of lightning.
“Yeah. They saw us, Beth. We’ve got a big lead, so let’s head for Steelhead Falls.”
Thirty minutes later, Beth and Drew stood, breathing heavily, on the flat rock protruding into the Deschutes River below the falls.
The tiny droplets of water flung into the air by the waterfall cooled the skin on Drew’s arms and legs. It was refreshing, but their intermission would be a short one.
The question was, did they have time to talk? They needed to. That cryptic note needed to be discussed and disposed of.
He looked down into Beth’s eyes. It wasn’t the right time for discussing their issues. But it was impossible to ban them from his consciousness. They interrupted his thinking like the lightning did his vision. “Beth, have you seen any lights since we crossed the ridge?”
“No. Only a lot of lightning. But we need to leave, now.” Another flash revealed the frown and Beth’s searching eyes, searching his for resolution. “You’re thinking about the note. I can tell.”
“Yeah. But—”
“Drew, you’ve got to realize I wasn’t saying what I wanted, only what I thought I had to say to save your life, but …”
“But it wouldn’t have worked, would it?”
“No. But I was desperate. I think God knew that, so He gave me something better. An Army Ranger and the man that I—”
“Beth. Up the trail. Are those flashlights?”
Her head turned toward the trail. “Well, they aren’t fireflies.”
“How did they know to come this way after they crossed the ridge?”
“Maybe Suarez is part bloodhound. Or part devil. So what do we do now? They will be here in another ten minutes.”
“I think we can lose them here.”