Swords of Exodus

by Larry Correia

  But as much as I disliked Lorenzo, I was determined not to leave anyone else behind. Not now, not after all this. Twice in my life, I’d been left behind, abandoned by the people I was working for. I know what it feels like and I wasn’t about to do that to somebody else.

  If Lorenzo was alive, I hoped to God he wasn’t bringing a lot of company with him.

  “We can get a clear view of the river from there.” Ling pointed.

  “Keep your head down. We don’t know who’s down there.”

  Approaching cautiously, we took stock of the canyon before us. The ground just dropped away in a gap between thin evergreen trees. The grade was steep, all the way to the canyon floor and the river. We had a good view of the river from here. Ling lifted a pair of binoculars and started scanning back and forth.

  On the valley floor, in a clearing five hundred yards away was the rusting hulk of a big airplane. I recognized it as an old Soviet Tu-95 bomber. One of its wings could be seen, half covered by a snow, some distance behind it. The other wing was nowhere to be found. A faded red star still adorned its tail. It looked as if it had been there for decades, forgotten. “Looks like they tried to ride it in,” I mused. There was no way the bomber was going to do an emergency landing in a place like this, but it was obvious it hadn’t just plowed straight down into the ground, either.

  We had concealment from the foliage and cover from the boulders, plus a commanding view of the narrow valley ahead of us. It was as good as we were going to get.

  I unfolded its bipod and set up the sniper rifle as Ling tried to raise Lorenzo on the radio. “Lorenzo, Lorenzo, this is Sword Three X-Ray. Can you hear me, over?”

  Nothing.

  “Lorenzo, this is Sword Three X-Ray, please respond. What is your status?”

  Ling looked over at me and shook her head.

  “Well, we can wait here for a little—”

  The radio crackled back to life. “This is Lorenzo. I’m here, I’m still here.”

  “Sword Three X-Ray copies, Lorenzo. Where are you?”

  “Fuck if I know. I see lots of fucking trees. I’ve got a lot of pissed off assholes on my tail. That narrow it down for you?” His breathing was ragged. He sounded horrible. “I see an . . . airplane?”

  “We’re waiting for you at the road past that, Lorenzo. As you come out of the trees, there’ll be an open area covered with boulders. Past the wreck, there’s a steep, rocky grade up to our position. I don’t think it’ll be an easy climb. Do you copy?”

  “I hear you,” Lorenzo replied. “Fuck. I’m in bad shape here. I’ve been shot . . . a couple times, and I’m hypothermic and running out of ammo. I hope you got a lot of guys up there.”

  Ling and I looked at each other.

  “Just make for the plane wreck. We’ll cover you as best we can.” Ling said. “Get ready. I think he’s almost here.”

  “Take my rifle,” I suggested. “It’s got a scope on it and more range. It’ll be better than your carbine.”

  I hunkered down behind Svetlana’s heavy sniper rifle, scanning the canyon for movement. The tree line we expected Lorenzo to come out of was at least eight hundred yards away, maybe a bit further. The rifle I was using could hit playing cards at that distance, but it had been a long time since I’d done this kind of long-range shooting, and I only had ten rounds. Lorenzo had a lot of open territory to cover past the trees, with only boulders for cover until he got to the wreck of the bomber. And even then, I had no idea how he was going to get up the grade without getting shot to pieces.

  Focus, damn it. Can’t worry about it now. I slowly pivoted the rifle on its bipod, looking for movement.

  “There! I have eyes on.”

  A lone figure appeared from the trees, slogging through deep snow as fast as he could. Even at twenty power magnification, he was too far off to ID, so I reached for the radio.

  “Lorenzo, this is Valentine. I have eyes on one individual that just exited the tree line. Is that you?”

  There was a pause before I got a response. “Valentine? Fuck me. Yeah, yeah, that’s me. Where are you guys?”

  “We’re up at the top of the grade. We’ve got you covered.”

  “Get ready. They’re right behind me.”

  Lorenzo wasn’t kidding. Sporadic gunfire erupted from the trees before I could even see anyone else. First, a couple of figures, dressed in brown and green coats, appeared from the trees, hot on Lorenzo’s tail. Then a few more, then dozens of them.

  “Holy shit.”

  LORENZO

  The plane wreck

  I was in very bad shape. The wound in my side was deep. I had my left hand jammed against it, but blood was pouring between my fingers and leaving a trail in the snow behind me. The ice bath had done something to my mind. Everything was foggy and I was having a hard time thinking straight. My heart was pounding in my chest and my mouth tasted like it was filled with pennies.

  The soldiers were all around me, moving between the trees. I could hear them shouting. My legs burned as I had to hoist each foot high enough to clear the snow. There were boulders in the clearing. I could use them for cover, then get to the plane, then—

  The bullet pierced my left arm. Blood hit the snow in front of me. I let out an incoherent cry, lifted my pistol and cranked off a couple of shots in the direction that it had come from. The snow puckered around me as they fired back.

  I made it to the nearest boulder, stumbled, and crashed into it. I slid along it, leaving a smear of blood, then forced myself onward.

  The ringing in my ears had gotten worse. I tripped and fell on my face. Not like this . . . And I forced myself back up and headed for the crashed bomber.

  Valentine and Ling were shooting. I could hear their bullets buzzing by overhead. What sounded like thousands of bullets were immediately launched back at them.

  The cockpit of the bomber was mangled, smashed, and rusty. There was a huge gap past that, and I stumbled inside as fresh holes were punched in the aluminum around me. I turned and saw a soldier moving up to my red-stained boulder. The STI’s front sight wobbled past and I put a round into his chest. He slid down the rock and collapsed into the snow.

  My gun was empty again. I couldn’t even remember firing that many shots. I went to reload, but my left arm didn’t want to work and my left hand wouldn’t close around a fresh mag. “Damn it . . . ” So I tucked the 9mm in my armpit, got a mag out with my good hand, and tried to shove it into the mag well. My hand was shaking so badly it took me several tries.

  There was movement everywhere. The clearing was swarming with soldiers. There was no getting out of this one.

  How’d I end up here? This was what I deserved for putting somebody else ahead of myself. This was all because I’d gone after Bob. I was going to die, and I still hadn’t saved him.

  I got the slide dropped on another round and shot a soldier who’d run up to the cockpit.

  But that wasn’t all. I could have left Exodus. I could have dumped them and run for it on my own . . . Yet I hadn’t. I could have abandoned them, but I didn’t.

  The old bomber smelled of animal piss. Bullets were flying through the metal all around me. A scarred face appeared in a decaying window hole and I blew the young slave’s brains out.

  I could have abandoned them, but I didn’t . . .

  I’d made my call.

  I’d decided to be the good guy.

  And then I knew that old Gideon Lorenzo would have been proud of me.

  “I’m still getting out of here, damn it. You hear that, Dad?” I fired wildly out the door, driving some soldiers to cover.

  Another bullet exploded through the wall and my leg went out from under me. There was a flash of fire and searing pain, and then blood was spilling from my calf.

  I rolled over, tried to stand, and fell over. I ended up face-to-face with a grinning skull, probably the remains of one of the bomber’s long-forgotten crewmembers. I couldn’t walk. The skull sat there, mocking me.

 
My leg wouldn’t respond. I could no longer run.

  And just like that, it was over.

  VALENTINE

  The powerful rifle bucked into my left shoulder as I squeezed off another shot. Two of Jihan’s soldiers were taking cover from Lorenzo behind a rock, but I had a clear shot. The heavy slug tore through both of them, and down they went. That’s what they got for bunching up. Fuck you, assholes.

  I worked the bolt with my right hand, angled the rifle down some more, and found another target. BOOM. Another dead enemy soldier, I worked the bolt again. The rifle was now empty. I changed out the magazine. “Last five rounds!”

  Ling was still using my rifle, firing slow, aimed shots. “How many more magazines do you have for this?” She’d already gone through one magazine and was working her way through another.

  I checked the pouches on my vest, retrieving a single twenty-round mag. “Last one.”

  “I’ll make it work,” she said. “Keep shooting.”

  I scanned the snow-covered wreck of the bomber. I could see Lorenzo, holed up in a gaping tear in the fuselage that faced toward us. He was armed only with a pistol, and was only firing when the enemy got close to his hideout.

  Two more soldiers were running toward the gap. One had a bag of hand grenades! A moving target, from a few hundred yards away, with a rifle I had no experience with. C’mon, c’mon . . . I tracked my target, leading him slightly, and squeezed the trigger.

  He crumpled to the snow in a puff of blood. His friend tripped and fell. I worked the bolt and put a round into him, too. A hand grenade went off, throwing up a circle of snow and dust. “Two more down!” I told Ling.

  “More are coming,” she said flatly, before firing off several more shots.

  One of Jihan’s soldiers appeared from behind a boulder, carrying a belt-fed. “Machine gun!” They were aware of our position now, but most of the fire they directed at us fell short. I didn’t want them peppering us with a belt-fed. I put the crosshair on the machine gunner’s chest and squeezed the trigger.

  I missed. Damn it! I worked the bolt, got control of my breathing, and fired again. Splat. Down he went. Fuck you, too.

  Ling changed magazines again. “Lorenzo has to move now, before we all get pinned down here.”

  I agreed, and grabbed the radio. “Lorenzo, listen up. This is getting worse every second. They just keep coming. You need to make your move, now. Get your ass up the hill. They’re trying to surround the bomber now, and—shit!” We ducked down as rounds pockmarked the boulders we were using as cover. Splintered rock chips and snow rained down on us from the barrage of gunfire. I keyed the mike again. “They know where we are. We’re taking fire. You need to move, now!”

  There was a long pause before I got a response. My amplified hearing protection enabled me to make out a few pistol shots from Lorenzo’s position, over the slow, steady snapping of gunfire from Jihan’s forces. They were being smart, moving from cover to cover, and now applying suppressing fire against us.

  “I’m out,” Lorenzo said. “I’m out of ammo. Shit.”

  We had to duck back down as more gunfire peppered our position. “Lorenzo, just give me a second, I’ll figure this out.”

  Another pause.

  “I’m not going to make it.” His voice was flat.

  “What? No, goddamn it, you move your ass and get up this hill!”

  “I can’t.” He sounded so tired. His voice wavered as he spoke. “I don’t know if I can even stand. There’s no way in hell I’ll make it up that hill.”

  Ling and I exchanged a glance.

  “What . . . what do you want me to do?”

  “You guys have to go,” Lorenzo replied bluntly. “You have to leave me here. Get out of here before they get you too.”

  “I’m not going to leave you there, goddamn it!”

  “Yes, you are. You don’t have a choice. There’s too many. They’re out for blood. If you don’t get out of here, you’ll die too.”

  Lorenzo was right. Ling placed a hand on my shoulder and nodded her head slightly.

  Damn it, damn it, damn it. My mind raced, looking for a way out.

  But there was no way. I had one round left for the .338, and Ling was running low too. There were still dozens of enemy troops down there, and they were all heavily armed. It was quiet. They were regrouping. I crept around the edge of the boulder. It only took me a second to find Lorenzo in the scope.

  It was like he was looking right at me.

  I took a deep breath and keyed the microphone.

  “Lorenzo, if they take you alive . . . it won’t be good.”

  Another long pause. “I know.”

  “Do you want me to . . . I mean, I’ve got a clean shot. I have one round left . . . ”

  Ling’s eyes went wide, but I ignored her and awaited Lorenzo’s response. Killing him was probably a hell of a lot more merciful than letting Sala Jihan’s fanatics get a hold of him.

  Lorenzo let out a raspy, wheezing laugh into the radio. “That would be funny, wouldn’t it? After all this, you’re the one who kills me. That’d be precious.” He laughed again, like that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

  I could see his face behind the crosshairs. I put my finger on the trigger. “Say the word.”

  He seemed to think about it. The interior of the bomber was splattered with his blood. “You know what? No. Just get out of here. I’ll take my chances.”

  “You sure?”

  “I am. Is Jill safe?”

  “She is. She’s with the others. Reaper too.”

  “Good. Do me a favor. Get her out of here. Get her far away from this place. Please.”

  “I . . . I will, Lorenzo. I swear.”

  “Don’t tell her what happened to me. If she thinks there’s any chance I’m alive she’ll try to come back for me. They’ll get her too. Make something up, but don’t let her come after me.”

  Ling took the radio from me. “Lorenzo, I’ll tell Jill that you died a hero, so that others could live.”

  “That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”

  Ling smiled sadly. “It’s mostly true.”

  “Heh . . . How about that?” His voice had grown very quiet. “I’m the hero. Never figured that’s how I’d die.”

  Ling looked like she was going to cry.

  “One more thing, Valentine,” Lorenzo managed. “Find my brother.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Okay,” he hesitated. “Now get the hell out of here. I’m turning off my radio.”

  “I’ll see you around someday, Lorenzo.”

  “So long, Valentine.”

  We left the heavy Sako rifle as we scrambled back up to road level. A few stray shots hit the rocks around us, but none of them were close. As we headed for the road, I could see the wreck through the trees. It was hard to tell, but it looked like Sala Jihan’s soldiers were about to drag Lorenzo away.

  “Michael, we have to go!” Ling insisted. I turned and left without looking back.

  LORENZO

  I dropped the radio on the bloody floor. It lay there in a pile of spent shell casings.

  The soldiers were approaching cautiously. They could see that I was done.

  Poor Jill . . . but she deserved a better man than me anyway.

  My eyelids were too heavy. The world was getting very dark.

  I could hear angry shouting, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying. My chest was rising and falling. Rising and falling.

  There was movement inside the plane. They were approaching cautiously. Someone squatted next to me. He was wearing a heavy coat and a fur-lined hood. Beneath the hood was skin as white as a corpse and two pitch black eyes.

  “Greetings, son of murder. I warned you not to return.” The devil turned back to his minions. “Take him.”

  A rifle butt smashed me in the face. Boots stomped on my ribs. Rough hands grabbed me and pulled me through the rust. I was lifted up and carried into the cold.

 
; Gideon Lorenzo was standing in front of me, big, strong, and kind. Nothing like the broken, battered, dying shell I’d last seen on his death bed.

  I felt him put his arm over my shoulder.

  “You were good, Hector. That’s all that anyone could ever ask. We better get going.”

  Then the Sun was up.

  It was morning.

  VALENTINE

  The Rendezvous Point

  Ariel had told me that Lorenzo had been trying so hard to live a peaceful life, and Ling and I dragged him into this mess and got him killed. I didn’t say it out loud, but we were both thinking it. I could see the pain on Ling’s face.

  We caught up to the other survivors at a predetermined rally point.

  “I can’t tell her, Michael.” Ling rubbed her face with both hands. “I just can’t.”

  Jill came running up as we got out of the truck. There was a flicker of hope as the doors opened. It was painful to watch it die. “Where . . . where’s Lorenzo?” she asked. There was fear in her voice. Reaper stood a few feet behind her, not saying anything. “Val, where is Lorenzo? You said you were going to go get him!”

  I steeled myself. “Jill . . . ”

  “No. No. Please.” Tears welled up in her eyes. What little color there was on Reaper’s pale face drained out.

  I gently placed my hands on Jill’s shoulders. “He’s gone, honey. There wasn’t anything we could do.”

  “Damn it, Val,” Jill sobbed. She buried her face in my shoulder and cried, while hitting me with her fist. “Damn it. You said you’d bring him back. You said.”

  Reaper just sat down in the snow, not saying anything.

  Ling spoke up, softly. “Lorenzo’s action is what allowed everyone else to get away. These people owe him their lives, and we all owe him a debt of gratitude. His sacrifice was noble. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Jill continued sobbing. I held her in my arms and wished like hell there was something I could say that would help.

  “We need to get going,” someone said. “The longer we stay here, the more likely it is none of us get out of here alive.”