by Al Turner
“What are you doing?” Carson asked.
“I’m going to try to listen in to see who’s out there. Maybe we can stay one step ahead of them.”
“You gonna share the experience?”
Daniel searched through his pack. “If I can get it to work. Something’s interfering with the signal.”
“Please hurry. We don’t need any more surprises.”
AVENGING SPIRIT
Ryder had watched the white Jeep park close to the green Camaro. He tried to verify who they were but couldn’t be certain. The two, a male and female, were definitely not professionals. He informed his team to avoid engagement, just in case they were unacceptable casualties.
After they had disappeared into the cavern, his team began to materialize, as if by magic, from their hiding places and resume their positions. Archer moved to a small hill on the far end of the bowl-shaped form above the entrance to the cavern. He took a prone position, his sniper rifle ready, and blended in as best he could.
Ryder found a dent in the field and burrowed into it. He hadn’t heard back from Rogers, who was supposed to be scouting the cavern. He radioed him again but got no response.
“That’s what ya get for sending in a green Yank,” said Archer over their channel.
“It’ll be the last time I send a muppet to do a man’s job,” Ryder replied.
A shot rang out.
“All positions report,” Ryder commanded. He turned around toward general direction the shot had come from. Another one went off. A team member flanking him, less than ten yards away, fell backward.
Multiple reports came in; the shooter was in the line of trees behind them, the direction they had come from. Ryder ordered his team to change their firing positions to compensate. He burrowed back into his crevice and radioed the man he had left back at the vehicles.
“Leader to base camp, what’s your status?” Ryder said into the mic attached to his earpiece. He waited for a couple of seconds. “Repeat, base what is your status?” He swore as he concluded two of his team were out of commission. “Spencer is down,” he announced in his comm.
Ryder pulled up the binoculars to check the area where Spencer was supposed to be. As he scanned the copse, he spotted something. “Archer, I need a scope on that underbrush, one o’clock.”
The seconds ticked away until a single sniper shot rang out and Archer’s voice came back. “Got ’im.”
As Ryder stood up to get a better angle to verify this, he heard someone approach behind him. Instinctively, he lowered the glasses, drew his sidearm, and turned.
The black man held his hands up. “It’s me, chief.”
“Rogers, where the hell have you been?” Ryder noticed something missing. “And where’s your rifle?”
Rogers shrugged as if he could hardly explain it. He simply pointed back toward the cavern.
“Bloody muppet,” Ryder swore as he tossed him his spare pistol. “Watch that entrance and let no one leave.”
As Ryder turned, another shot pierced the silence. He dived for cover amid the confused chatter from his men that flooded his ear. He promptly ordered silence so he could give direction. “Archer, we have another shooter.”
Archer’s French accent came back, cursing. “No, not a new one. I apparently shot Spencer, or at least his lifeless body. That son of a bitch set him up to look like the shooter.”
From his position, Ryder could barely see the glint of Archer’s scope over the hill he was using for cover. Archer seemed absorbed in spotting their opponent.
Ryder used his binoculars to scan the area. “Clever bastard,” he said. Their opponent, he surmised, had drawn them into a firefight so his compatriots could flee. He set himself up between them and their own vehicles to deny them an exit. A nice plan, he thought. “Rogers, watch that cave entrance. Archer, look for return fire.”
“Roger that,” Archer replied.
Again, Rogers failed to respond. Reluctantly, Ryder moved his attention back to the entrance and found what he expected.
Not far from where he had last seen him lay Rogers. The last shot that rang out was meant for the man, and their opponent’s aim was true.
Another shot pierced the silence.
From various positions, Ryder’s team opened fire into the cavern. After saturating the area, he called a ceasefire. Silence, for the moment, returned.
Ryder glimpsed Archer, who still hunted for a target. The man shook his head in frustration. He was one of the few who had worn a combat helmet. On its side, he kept a miniature video camera that recorded the entire mission.
“Status?” Ryder said. One by one, his team reported back that all was quiet. Their adversary had either retreated or was hit, Ryder thought. “All units, close in on that position. Archer, hold back for a moment, mate. Let’s see what our shooter does.”
“Roger that.”
Ryder waited as his men crept across a mostly open field of dirt, rock, and scrub toward a clump of sparse trees. Ryder knew he might lose one or two before Archer could get a bead on the other sniper, but it was a risk he had to take. As they came within about ten yards of it, the team set up on the border of the area they believed the shooter was in.
Ryder waited for news. As the group held their new position, he rose and started in that direction. “Two men move up,” Ryder said.
As he carefully yet briskly cut across the open area, two of his men entered the trees. A couple of seconds later, an explosion erupted. Everyone hit the ground.
As the smoke and dust settled, Ryder raised his head. “Booby trap,” he said. The man must have left them a gift as he retreated. “Report,” he said into the mic.
One of his men reported that Buck, the other Yank on the team, had been hit by the concussion but survived. His partner, who had been behind him, was more fortunate and tended to his teammate’s wounds.
The distinct sound of a motorcycle engine revving up was heard. Archer instinctively stood, hoping to get off a shot before their opponent could flee. The rest of the squad looked hesitant to do the same.
Ryder listened to gauge the direction the motorcycle had taken, but something wasn’t quite right. It didn’t retreat but circled around them.
He’s not done with us, Ryder thought. “Archer, stay alert. He’s coming around for another pass.”
“I’ll be ready,” the man said as he changed position. He waited for a clear shot while the unseen rider circled them in the distance, hidden by hills and trees. At last the engine went silent. Everyone on the team waited, their rifles readied.
“He’s out there,” came Archer’s voice.
Ryder knew the man on the motorcycle wouldn’t leave until his companions were free. An uneasy feeling came over him. He wasn’t one to wait for another ambush. “Someone get down there and check the vehicles,” he ordered. “Archer, hold position. We need to ensure we own the high ground, mate. Everyone else on me.”
“Already on it,” said Serge, an Italian and newest member of his team.
“Roger that,” Archer replied and returned to a prone position.
It didn’t take long to assess the status of the vehicles. “Ryder, we have a problem. Vehicles are disabled,” said Serge.
“What about the briefcase in the boot?”
A moment later, he had his answer. “It’s gone.”
“Shit.” Ryder kicked the dirt. He knew his opponent was good, but he couldn’t escape the feeling that he and his team were sloppy. After cursing repeatedly, he was suddenly struck by a thought. “Serge, check Spencer’s body. Let me know if anything’s missing.”
Promptly, Serge came back and said, “Spencer’s headset is gone.” It was just as Ryder had feared.
“Radio silence,” Ryder ordered. He removed his earpiece and put it away. From that point on, they would use hand signals or talk in person. They had backup systems, but those were likely compromised as well. He turned and walked toward Archer to discuss strategy.
Archer was standing on the
hill, facing the opposite direction. After a few more steps, Ryder realized the man wasn’t following his normal routine. He just stood there. A chill ran down Ryder’s back. He was still at least seventy yards away, so he peered into his binoculars.
Archer’s hands moved in gestures, as if he was speaking to someone. He was looking down toward the other side of the hill, where Ryder had no line of sight. His weapon wasn’t in his hand nor across his shoulder.
As Ryder scanned the ground around Archer’s feet, he saw the sniper rifle lying there. He placed the earpiece back in his ear. “Archer.”
“Ryder.” Archer’s tone all but confirmed his situation. “Our guest wishes to speak with you.”
Ryder took a deep breath as he stared at the back of his longtime friend and teammate. “This is Ryder,” he finally said.
The man’s voice was calm. “I would have left you in peace, but unfortunately there’s one more matter we need to address.”
“We may be able to work out a deal that allows your friends in the cave to leave unscathed.”
“That’s going to happen either way. I refer to another matter. Rick Sanchez was a good man.”
Ryder realized it was more than a rescue mission; the man had vengeance on his mind. “Let’s discuss this, mate,” he said quickly, unsure of what else to say. “I’m sure we can find a reasonable solution, one professional to another.”
Ryder, his rifle ready, continued toward Archer as he awaited a response. He stopped suddenly as his opponent’s voice returned.
“If you wanted professionalism, you shouldn’t have murdered my friend.”
“If you play the avenging angel, the devil will find you,” Ryder said with a snarl just before a single shot went off. He cried out as Archer fell limp.
Had Ryder not been running at full speed, his aim might have been better. The man came over the hill and dove into the sunken earth by the cave entrance. Ryder’s shots missed and Archer’s killer disappeared into the cavern entrance.
Damn, Ryder thought as he ran faster. “Everyone on my position,” he ordered. He knew the mysterious man was listening, but he no longer cared. He wanted him to know he was coming for him.
Ryder reached the top of the hill while his men edged up into positions around the cavern entrance. He examined Archer’s body and found the bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. The blood streamed down between Archer’s open gray eyes. With his free hand, he closed them gently. “Sorry, mate,” he said. He knew his men were watching, so he kept his goodbye brief.
As he stood and turned, he heard one of his men announce that the briefcase was sitting in the cavern entrance. Ryder instantly realized the man hadn’t lost it or decided to give it back. “Take cover!”
The briefcase exploded as his team scrambled for safety. Soon Ryder emerged from the orange cloud and assessed the damage. His team had been pummeled with dirt and rocks, but those who remained gradually appeared. Serge looked dazed by the concussion of the blast and struggled to clear his senses.
The entrance had partially collapsed. Momentarily, the armed men took up position again around it. They waited as the dust slowly cleared and must have wondered if their opponent was done with them.
Ryder returned to Archer’s lifeless, debris-covered body to retrieve an item he needed. He reached over and unfastened the military-grade camera from Archer’s helmet. He wiped off the dirt caked on it, and figuring out how to open the device, retrieved the micro-SD chip inside.
Ryder placed the chip in his shirt pocket and made his way to the outside of the cavern. A wall of rock about waist high had formed in the entrance and gave him shelter to crouch behind. He dared to be much closer than any of his men were willing to be. He rinsed his mouth with water from his canteen and took a drink.
“If your little explosion was supposed to kill us or seal you inside, I’m afraid it came up short on both counts.” Ryder said, unsure of whether the man was close enough to hear and would answer through the missing headset. “Are you coming out or am I going in after you?” He listened but heard only his own words echo through the darkness.
Then Ryder heard the static, followed by the voice in his ear.
“How does it feel?”
“Come back and I’ll show you,” Ryder replied.
His remaining men stared curiously at him until they realized he was talking into his headset. They scrambled to put their own communication pieces back in their ears.
“I think there’s been enough bloodshed for one day, don’t you?” said the man.
“Not until I see your blood.”
“You may get your chance. Be better prepared next time.”
“I promise,” Ryder said and spat more dirt from his mouth. “How will I know you when we meet again?”
“Ask Archer.”
Ryder’s eyes narrowed. “Bloody bastard.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
“Damn right you will.” Ryder removed his earpiece and tossed it aside in disgust. He stood for a bit longer.
Serge walked up and extended his arms in a frustrated gesture. “What the hell was that, chief?” he asked, dumbfounded. “Four dead and several wounded.”
Ryder shook his head. “Payback.”
“For what you did to that cop?”
“The cop,” Ryder repeated. “Serge, patch me through to Joshua. I want video so he see our situation.”
“On it,” Serge said as he retrieved the system from one of the packs. He set up a small dish, monitor, and camera.
While Ryder waited, he reviewed the conversation he had with their opponent. “Ask Archer,” he said. He walked over to the pile of packs his men had gathered from their disabled vehicles. After sifting through them, he found Archer’s duffel bag. Inside was the deceased man’s tablet, which he used to play back missions.
Ryder slid the SD chip into place and searched through the footage Archer had recorded. He found what he wanted a moment before Serge informed him he had reached Joshua. He brought the tablet with him as he sat in front of a monitor set up for the video conference.
The young black man stared back at him. “Ryder, you look the worse for wear.”
“I’ve had better days.”
“So I see. You ran into resistance at the cavern?”
“You could say that, Joshua. Some pissed-off bloke indicated he was friends with the dead cop.”
“What’s your status?”
“Four confirmed dead, a few banged up. Our opponent retreated into the cavern, along with four noncombatants. Two of them are non-engagement— Stella’s, I believe.”
“You’re not to proceed where collateral damage is even remotely possible.”
Ryder knew that was coming. “Understood.”
“What do you know of the team that hit you?”
Ryder felt as if Joshua hadn’t heard him the first time. “It wasn’t a team. As far as I could tell, it was a single bloke.” He produced the tablet, the relevant footage paused on it. “Let me just show you, mate.”
He turned up the device and pushed Play. He held it so Joshua could see the playback. The image of a man came into view. Archer’s camera pointed to the man as he spoke into his earpiece, talking to Ryder. He then looked straight into the camera, addressed Archer, aimed his pistol, and fired.
“Play that last part again,” Joshua said. Ryder did so.
Joshua strained to hear the words through the conferencing connection.
“Whoever tries to keep their life will lose it.”
“Pause there,” Joshua said. He studied the image of the man peering over his sunglasses just before he had fired the deadly shot. Those eyes were like sapphires. “Ryder, this operation is over. Make damn sure your team engages no one else. Clean up your mess and prepare for emergency evacuation. A helo is en route.”
The communication ended before Ryder could respond, not that there was anything left to say. The man had spoken.
“We’re done here,” Ryder said to the others
. “You know the drill.”
A LIGHT FROM THE SHADOWS
They were scattered throughout the dimly lit chamber, having turned off all but one of their lights. When the shooting had started outside, Joe insisted they not present themselves as targets. Every now and then, Daniel would catch something coming over the tactical headset he had liberated from their former prisoner. Reception was spotty, due to interference likely caused by being underground, if not the anomaly in the adjacent chamber. Still, he relayed whatever he did manage to hear.
A massive explosion was followed by silence. They waited for something to happen. The distant dripping of water was the only answer they received.
Daniel strained to listen into the receiver. He had meant to rig something so everyone could listen, but time wasn’t on his side. The seconds ticked by and occasional static teased him into thinking something was about to come through. Finally, he heard a conversation.
Two men were in a terse exchange. At first, he caught only parts of it, then, complete sentences. Daniel made out two distinct voices. One threatened the other. He heard the words “I’ll see you soon.”
“What’s happening?” came Carson’s impatient voice from her dark corner.
“It may be over with,” Daniel replied.
“Great. Who won?”
“To answer that, we’d probably need to know more about the opposing forces,” Tripp said.
“Thanks, oh wise one. What about that mysterious friend we’re supposed to have?”
“Nothing yet,” Daniel said after he checked his messages.
“We can’t just sit here and wonder,” Carson said. “How about if I sneak back the way we came and see what’s happening?”
“A poor plan,” Tripp replied from the shadows.
“Do you have a better one, Tripp?”
Chatter erupted briefly. Outside the small chamber they occupied, a hoarse whisper echoed. They couldn’t make out the words. After an eerie pause, Carson finally spoke up.
“Be quiet, everyone,” she whispered. “Hello?”