Lucifer's Fire

by Richard Turner

  Hunched behind their Rovers, Chang’s people fought a deadly battle against an unseen and lethal foe. Smoke from the two burning vehicles filled the air. The sound of bullets flying back and forth sounded more like a band saw cutting through wood to Emily. She hadn’t opened her eyes since she had taken cover. The sound of people fighting for their lives barely meters away was terrifying. She wanted to run, to flee for her life, but she knew that she had nowhere to go. Her fate was tied to the people dying all around her.

  Grace fired off a quick burst into the jungle and then ducked back down behind her Rover for cover. She reached into her vest, dug out a fresh, thirty-round magazine and quickly jammed it home in her assault rifle.

  An RPG fired at her Jeep fell short, striking the ground; it exploded, showering the vehicle with rocks and shrapnel.

  Grace looked around and saw that of the ten mercenaries who had taken cover, only four still stood. The ground was littered with their dead. Two men had taken wounds to the chest that would probably kill them in the next few minutes if they didn’t receive medical attention; not that there was much chance of that, she thought to herself.

  A man burst from the jungle and dove over the top of Grace’s vehicle, landing on the ground beside her. She was about to blindly fire at the intruder when she realized that she was looking down at her boss, Colonel Chang.

  “For God’s sake, sir, I coulda shot you,” said Grace gruffly.

  Chang managed a smile. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. What is our status?”

  “To be blunt, we’re pretty well screwed. With you, there are five of us left in the fight, and I still haven’t seen hide nor hair of our attackers,” reported Grace.

  “Any of the Rovers still working?”

  “I don’t know. One or two, maybe?”

  “Damn,” muttered Chang. “We can’t stay here, and we sure as hell can’t drive out of here, either.”

  “Sir, you need to know Saafi’s dead.”

  Chang saw his deputy lying face down in the road. He shook his head in frustration. Chang looked over at Grace. “I guess you’re my new deputy. If you have any ideas, I’d love to hear them.”

  “Well, I’m not one for surrendering, if that’s what you’re thinking,” said Grace bluntly. “They hack people to death in this part of the world and as a woman, I’m going to be raped first and then killed, so no thanks. I’m going down fighting.”

  Chang knew she was right. Surrender was not an option. He got up on one knee and resolved to sell his life as dear as possible.

  As soon as they came out into the open on a slight hill, Jackson parked their vehicle.

  Below them, the fight still raged back and forth. There were several vehicles burning. Bloodied bodies littered the ground around the destroyed vehicles.

  Mitchell picked up his binoculars and quickly surveyed the battlefield. He swept his binos over to the people trapped behind their Rovers, Mitchell grinned slightly. There was a woman on the ground with her hands on her head. He knew they had found Emily Martinez.

  “All right, everyone out,” said Mitchell, jumping from his seat. “Okay, this is what I want to happen. Cardinal, climb a tree and engage anyone you see who isn’t Nate and me, or those people stuck behind their jeeps.”

  With a quick nod, Cardinal ran for the nearest tall tree and began to climb.

  “What about me?” said Sam.

  “Sam, I need you to stay here and guard the jeep.”

  She opened her mouth to object, but a hand raised by Mitchell cut her off. “Sam, this has nothing to do with you. We need this ride. It’s our only way out of here, and I also think that we’re going to need your medical skills the instant the shooting stops.”

  Sam nodded her understanding.

  “So, what’s your plan?” Jackson asked Mitchell.

  “I don’t really have one.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “I say we head down and beat the bushes and drive the soldiers at the ambush toward the mercs stuck on the road.”

  Jackson placed his weapon on automatic, resignedly shrugged his shoulders, and then followed his friend down a narrow, winding, animal path that led down to the fighting.

  Captain King stood proud. His men had executed the ambush perfectly. He doubted that his untested soldiers could pull it off, but so far, it was a textbook operation.

  Calmly stepping over the body of one of his men hit in the head, King walked down the line, encouraging his men to take aimed shots. They weren’t in danger of running out of ammunition anytime soon; he had made sure that each man carried twice his normal amount. He just didn’t see the point in wasting ammunition. He glanced down at his watch and saw that from the time the ambush had been sprung, until now, was just over eight minutes. At the rate they were going, he expected the fight to be over in less than two more minutes. He couldn’t wait to call Colonel Taylor to report the massacre of the hated foreign mercenaries who had killed their comrades the day prior. He had no doubt that a promotion and medal were in the offing.

  Mitchell stopped and took cover behind a tall tree. He peered over at the soldiers and quickly counted about thirty men all spread out in a line firing on the trapped mercenaries.

  “What are we going to do?” whispered Jackson.

  “Not sure. There’s too many of them for us to deal with all by ourselves,” answered Mitchell.

  Jackson turned his head and looked up into the trees. He tapped Mitchell on his shoulder and said, “Hang on a minute . . . I’ll be right back.”

  Before Mitchell could ask him what he was up to, Jackson was gone.

  He turned his attention back toward the soldiers. Mitchell noted that the sound of the firefight was beginning to diminish. He didn’t doubt that the people trapped out on the road were slowly being picked off, one by one.

  All of a sudden, out of the brush ran Jackson, holding a branch out in front of him; hanging underneath was a beehive. Several bees were already flying angrily through the air, chasing after Jackson while he sprinted toward the unsuspecting soldiers.

  The battle was almost over. King was about to call his sergeant to him when he saw a dark shape burst out from out of the jungle.

  His mind told him that the man wasn’t one of his. How could it be? He was certain that all of the mercenaries were either dead or pinned on the road.

  King brought up a hand to point at the intruder, who stopped in his tracks and hurled something at King’s men. In the blink of an eye, the man turned about and ran back into the jungle. His men stopped firing and were up on their feet, swatting at something that seemed to be attacking them. King had barely taken a step when he heard the sound of bees buzzing through the air, furiously attacking his men.

  King reached for his pistol. He fumbled with the holster when the men around him couldn’t take the stinging from the bees anymore and stood up. Panicked, they dropped their weapons at their feet and fled for their lives, taking King with them.

  Covered by Jackson, Mitchell changed his magazine and then let off a long burst into the air to encourage the fleeing soldiers to keep moving. Together, Jackson and Mitchell drove the rogue Liberians toward the road.

  On the hill above them, Cardinal took a deep breath and dropped the first soldier he saw break from the cover of the jungle. Like a dam breaking, a couple of dozen soldiers raced out of the jungle trying to reach the other side of the road and safety.

  “Sir, look!” cried Grace.

  Chang turned his head and saw a soldier burst from the jungle, only to topple over a second later. He watched unbelievingly as more men raced from the jungle, tossing their weapons and equipment aside as if being chased by a deadly menace closing in on them from deep within the rainforest.

  The sound of automatic gunfire ripped through the air as Chang’s people stood and fired into the surging mass of soldiers trying to reach safety, only to die within inches of the far side of the road. They were in an unforgiving mood. Firing until their weapons were
empty, the mercenaries, their eyes glazed over with hate, took stock of the death and destruction lying on the ground in front of their Rovers.

  Chang let out a deep sigh and then leaned back on the nearest Rover. Somehow, one of his men must have survived the ambush and found a way behind the soldiers. There could be no other expectation. Salvation had come at the last possible moment. Chang counted his blessings that he and the pitiful few people he had with him were still alive.

  Chang stepped away from his Rover and called out.

  “Ryan, I think someone’s calling us,” said Jackson, looking out at the road.

  The smell of cordite hung heavy in the air.

  “Let him wait a minute,” said Mitchell. “I want the bees to dissipate before moving anywhere near the road.” He keyed his throat-mic, “Cardinal, take aim on the man calling out to us.”

  “Got him,” replied Cardinal.

  “Where on earth did you get the idea to use bees?” Mitchell asked Jackson.

  “I read a book a while back about some British soldiers in World War One losing a battle somewhere in Africa after they spooked some bees, which ended up attacking them,” explained Jackson.

  “I didn’t know you could read.”

  “Too funny. Be glad I can remember the odd tidbit of info, too.”

  “Looks safe enough now,” said Mitchell. “I don’t hear too many bees buzzing about.”

  They moved to the edge of the jungle. Mitchell shook his head when he saw the bodies of the Liberian soldiers blanketing the road. He wasn’t surprised to see that none of them had survived the mercenaries’ deadly fusillade.

  “Ahoy, you by the Rover,” called out Mitchell. “Leave your weapons with your friends and meet me on the road!”

  “That voice is American,” observed Grace. “I don’t recognize it. He’s not one of our men.”

  Chang inquisitively raised an eyebrow. “It would seem we owe our good fortune to a mysterious benefactor.”

  He placed his assault rifle down, dug out his pistol and placed it down as well.

  “What are you doing, sir?” asked Grace.

  “I’m going to see what they want,” replied Chang calmly.

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  “Grace, the first rebel soldier who burst from the jungle, was shot dead by an incredible sniper. I have no doubt that I am in the man’s sight as we speak. I have nothing to lose by speaking with these people.”

  Chang strode down the dirt road, his eyes scanning the jungle for their mysterious visitor.

  “Cover me,” said Mitchell to Jackson as he stepped out from behind a tall tree and made his way out onto the road.

  Like a Wild West showdown, both men saw the other and then slowly walked forward.

  When they were less than ten meters apart, Mitchell, with his rifle cradled in his arms, stopped and studied the man in front of him. Something about him tugged at his memory. Snapping his fingers, he recognized the man.

  “Good God, I know you. You’re the leader of those mercenaries who helped plant a couple of nuclear bombs on an island off Iceland,” said Mitchell.

  Chang grinned. “It would appear that our paths were fated to cross again, Mister Mitchell.”

  “I’m impressed that you remembered my name, but I don’t remember being introduced to you.”

  “We weren’t. I looked you up after you messed up the Romanov’s plans,” explained Chang, alluding to Mitchell’s theft of a crown belonging to the last czar of Russia. “Please let me introduce myself. My name is Colonel Chang, a former soldier in the North Korean Army.”

  “It would appear that you got your ass handed to you today, Mister Chang,” Mitchell said, looking around at the bodies of the dead mercenaries lying beside their smoldering jeeps.

  “I take it that you’re not alone.”

  “You would be correct.”

  “Well then, I must offer you and your friends my thanks.”

  “Please don’t take it the wrong way if I tell you to stuff your thanks where the sun doesn’t shine. We didn’t do this for you.”

  Chang’s eyes lit up. “You thought Mrs. Martinez was in danger and came to help her.”

  “To quote our first president, ‘I cannot tell a lie.’ You are correct. Is she all right?”

  “Yes, she is. She’s scared out of her wits but still in one piece.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “Yes, but you need to do something for me first.”

  “Name it.”

  “Tell your sniper to lower his rifle. If he’s the same man as the one who gutted my force on Iceland, I’d feel a lot better knowing his finger wasn’t poised over the trigger of his rifle.”

  Mitchell shrugged. It was a fair enough trade, since Jackson was still covering him from the jungle. “Cardinal, climb down and join Sam by the jeep,” said Mitchell into his throat-mic.

  “Thank you,” said Chang. He asked Grace to send Emily to his side.

  A minute later, a disheveled Emily Martinez stood beside Chang, looking like a deer in headlights. She had no idea who the other man was or what was going on. Emily could feel the tension and mistrust between the two men, both of whom were doing a poor job of trying to be civil to the other.

  Mitchell could see the look of confusion in Emily’s eyes. “Good day, Mrs. Martinez, my name is Ryan Mitchell. Your father hired me to bring you and your husband home.”

  “Cristoval, isn’t with me, they took him away,” said Emily. “Do you have him with you?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t have him. At least, not yet.”

  Tears welled up in Emily’s eyes.

  Chang pulled Emily behind him. “As you can see, she’s still alive.”

  “You don’t need to keep hold of her anymore. She knows nothing about the whereabouts of the diamonds you are looking for,” said Mitchell, looking deep into Chang’s face.

  The momentary hesitation slipped him up. How could Mitchell know so much? Composing himself, Chang said, “You are remarkably well informed, Mister Mitchell.”

  “I was inside the Liberian camp when you attacked. I managed to get out the back door with another woman. She works for the man behind the search for the diamonds. She told me everything. They are just as in the dark about the diamonds’ location as you are.”

  “I also gathered that after speaking to Mrs. Martinez,” said Chang.

  “You’re still alive because of my people and me, so why don’t you do yourself a favor and hand Mrs. Martinez over to us. She is of no value to you anymore. I was hired to bring Mrs. Martinez and her husband back home to the States. I have zero interest in this alleged fortune in diamonds. You find them, you keep them. In fact, I hope you choke on them. All I want to do is free the hostages.”

  Chang looked over at Mitchell for a moment and then smiled. “Since you did save my life, I agree to your proposal.” With that, he stepped aside and waved for Emily to walk over to Mitchell.

  Still not sure what was going on, Emily warily moved over beside Mitchell.

  “Before we conclude our discussion,” said Chang, “do you have a medic with you? My medic is dead and I have some seriously wounded men who need immediate medical attention.”

  Mitchell nodded. He may have detested everything that Chang and his people stood for, but he couldn’t in good conscience leave a man to die needlessly.

  Two minutes later, Sam was busy working on the one mercenary she figured had a slim chance to survive. The other, she gave a shot of morphine and left him with his comrades to pass away.

  Cardinal stood close by with his hands on his sniper rifle, eyeing the mercenaries who stood there with an equally distrusting look on their faces.

  Jackson and Mitchell stood just out of earshot of the mercenaries while an exhausted Emily Martinez sat on the ground eating a ration pack, oblivious to the carnage strewn all around her.

  “Ryan, do you think that’s the last we’ll see of them?” asked Jackson, looking up at the mercenaries standin
g in the road.

  “Hard to say. I can’t see how they can continue with their mission after the casualties they took today,” replied Mitchell. “They’ll be lucky to make it back to Sierra Leone in one piece.”

  “Well, I, for one, will be happy to put some distance between them and us. I don’t trust them. They’d probably slit our throats while we slept if they had the chance.”

  “Of that, I have no doubt.”

  “Anything from back home?” asked Jackson, changing the topic.

  “Nothing new, Jen and Fahimah are on their way to New Haven. Hopefully, they’ll find something we can use before too long. I have a feeling that the two rival organizations behind this fiasco are going to start to become quite desperate to get their hands on the diamonds, and when that happens, all bets are off.”

  “If anyone can sniff something out, it’ll be Jen and Fahimah,” said Jackson, trying to sound encouraging.

  “God, I hope so. I’ve got a bad feeling about this mission.” With that, Mitchell changed the magazine on his AK for a fresh one and then went to see how things were going with Sam.

  As he watched his friend walk away, Jackson became concerned for Mitchell. He hadn’t seen him this way in years. He picked up his small pack and rummaged around until he found an energy bar. Opening it, he took a bite. For the first time in a long time, he knew he was reverting back to his old rank of master sergeant. Mitchell was going to need some supervision over the next couple of days; of this, Jackson had no doubt.

  Five minutes later, Sam packed up her medical bag and then, with Cardinal by her side, she walked down the road to check on Emily Martinez.

  While Grace looked after the rest of the mercenaries, Chang walked over to Mitchell. “Please pass on my thanks to your medic. I am not sure if my man will live out the day, but at least she has given him a fighting chance.”