Second Solace

by Robert Clark

  ‘With my life,’ he said, but there was something in his voice that told me he wasn’t convinced with his answer.

  ‘Last night while you were asleep, I saw her get up and send a message to someone,’ I said.

  ‘She could have been checking progress back at the base,’ Cage said.

  ‘In the middle of the night when no one is looking?’ I said. ‘If it was routine stuff, she could have done it at camp. She was gone for a couple of hours at least. I saw her texting, then I went and found Hope’s phone cache and got back to base before she did. And when she got back, she didn’t wake Davies or Turner. They were supposed to be on guard, right?’

  Corser nodded.

  ‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘Why wouldn’t she wake her soldiers up to stand guard if she didn’t already know there was nothing to fear at Hope County? I saw her texting someone, then I snuck back to camp and waited for her to get there, but she was still gone for a few hours. I think she was planning something with Hope’s people.’

  ‘Bullshit,’ barked Cage. ‘She wouldn’t do that to me. She saved my life when Hope rebelled. She’s on our side.’

  ‘She might have been once, but how can you be sure she is now?’ I asked.

  ‘He has a point, boss,’ said Corser.

  Cage snarled. His fingers squeezed the steering wheel until they turned white. His eyes flicked into his rear-view mirror.

  ‘And where the hell are they?’ he huffed. I turned around and saw nothing but empty road behind us, exactly where Cece’s Humvee should have been.

  ‘They were right behind us a minute ago,’ said Corser.

  ‘Don't they know the meaning of a convoy?’ Cage barked. ‘Get those assholes on the radio.’

  Corser pulled a walkie out of his backpack and squeezed the button.

  ‘This is team one,’ he said. ‘Team two, what's your position? Over.’

  There was a momentary crackle of static, then a response.

  ‘This is team two, we're having some car troubles at the moment. Over.’ It sounded like Davies. His voice filled the Humvee.

  ‘What's the situ? Over,’ asked Corser.

  ‘Blown tyre. Nothing to worry about. We'll be back on the road in five. Over.’

  ‘We'll pull up ahead and wait for you. Over.’

  ‘No need,’ said Davies. ‘We'll catch up with you. It'll only take a minute. Over.’

  ‘Goddamn it,’ growled Cage.

  ‘Okay, keep us updated,’ said Corser. ‘And next time, call ahead. Over.’

  ‘Will do boss. Over and out.’

  There was a moment of uncomfortable silence while Cage squeezed the steering wheel until it looked like it would burst.

  ‘Where are we with Jack and Carl?’ he growled. ‘They might still be the culprits.’

  ‘They might,’ I said. ‘But I’d bet money on them being tied into this with Cece.’

  ‘We can’t rule them out as damn hounds. Not without evidence.’ Cage snapped.

  I felt the Wolf stir in the back of my brain.

  ‘The same goes for Cece.’ I said. ‘We can’t rule her out either. Not when the evidence suggests-’

  ‘The evidence? What goddamn evidence?’ Cage shouted. He took his eyes off the road and fixed them on me in the rearview mirror. ‘You haven’t got shit. This is conjecture. All based on a grudge the two of you have with Cecilia. She’s had my back more times than I could count. So don’t come at me with all this bullshit without some solid proof.’

  The Wolf rose higher. I felt the heat of anger building inside.

  ‘What’s the deal with you and Cece?’ I snapped back. ‘Why are you blindly believing she can’t be responsible?’

  ‘Don’t call her Cece. Her name is Cecilia.’ Cage roared.

  ‘I’ll call her whatever the fuck I want to if she keeps calling me a snake.’

  ‘Then prove your worth and maybe she’ll change her mind about you.’

  ‘I’ll prove she wants to stab you in the back if you’d like? Or maybe I’ll just wait and let her do it to prove you’re a fucking idiot.’

  ‘How dare you speak to me like that!’ he shouted, his booming voice shaking through the car. ‘I give you an opportunity to have a new life, and you throw it back in my face!’

  I saw the flash just below the seething eyes of Maddox Cage from far off in the trees. Like a camera, or a flash grenade, it lasted the briefest of moments. I saw a cloud of light grey smoke appear in an instant.

  Then I saw something small hurtling towards us.

  ‘Boss!’ shouted Corser, but it was too late. The small object thumped into the road right in front of the Humvee and exploded. I felt the rush of heat and wind hit me, and felt the Humvee flip high into the air.

  Then everything went black.

  Twenty

  Ambush

  Something trickled up my head. Not down. Up. The taste of blood was unmistakable. I opened my eyes. A combination of iron and fire flooded my nose, and an all too familiar noise filled my ears. Gunfire.

  I was still in the Humvee, but the rush of blood in my head told me we were upside down. The roof had crumpled down at the front, leaving only a slight gap where the windscreen had been to show me what I was facing. And it wasn’t good. The raging fire that spread across the hood looked strange upside down, but I was sure that fact only made it more deadly. I needed to get out fast.

  Up in the front, Cage and Corser were still. Their bodies crumpled up against the roof of the Humvee. Their skewed arms made them look like discarded puppets about to be caught up in a wicked flame.

  ‘Corser,’ I coughed. My lungs filled with the foul taste of smoke. ‘Wake up!’

  But he was as still as the dead, as was his boss. If either of them were alive, they wouldn’t last that way for long.

  My hands fumbled against the seat-belt clip. I jabbed at the release, but it was jammed in place. I tugged at the belt, trying to make even an inch of room to wiggle free. Nothing. And with the pressure of it holding me to the seat, I was trapped.

  ‘Cage, Corser, can you hear me?’

  Neither man replied. I couldn’t even see if they were breathing.

  But I saw something else.

  Hanging from Cage’s belt was his revolver. The polished grip dangled tantalisingly in my direction, teasing itself into my grasp, but it was just out of my reach.

  Outside the Humvee, the fire grew hotter.

  And the gunfire ceased.

  Which could only mean one thing.

  They were coming in for the kill.

  I pried at the seatbelt release again, desperate to break free. Nothing. The fire was getting brighter.

  ‘Damnit Corser, wake up,’ I shouted.

  He remained unhelpfully still. A deep cut on the side of his head was possibly all the evidence I needed to determine his fate. Past his limp body, through the raging flames, I could see someone approaching. All I could see were the legs, distorted by the heat and light between him and I. Hanging by his side, and glinting in the light of the midday sun was a rifle.

  Time was almost up.

  Then I remembered it. The blade. Westaway’s broken knife. Tucked away in my boot. Hidden for purposes just like this. I scrambled to bring my leg up - or in this case down - in reach and fumbled with the sole. I didn’t have time to spare. I worked the blade free.

  The slice of steel clattered down onto the roof of the Humvee. I grabbed it and went on the attack. The sharp blade made easy work of the belt, and in seconds I felt it loosen enough for me to get free. I crumpled down on my head and wiggled round onto my back. I reached out for the revolver and pulled it free. Pointed it at the window and fired.

  The bullet sent a cascade of glass fragments spinning out into the road. Without a moment’s hesitation, I crawled out of the wreckage, ignoring the sharp stabs of glass shards slicing into my back.

  As soon as my head was free, I spotted him. Clad in camouflaged clothing, and a balaclava hiding his face, the figure ran at me. In
his hands was the assault rifle. It wasn’t aiming at me, but it would be soon. I swung the revolver around and pointed it at him and fired. The bullet caught him in the shoulder, but it wasn’t enough to stop him dead. He slowed and raised the rifle, but I had him beat. I fired again, this time getting him in the chest. He dropped the weapon and went down on his back.

  He wasn’t alone. Further away I counted another two, both running in my direction. And the chorus of gunfire had recommenced. Bullets ricocheted off the undercarriage of the Humvee, and peppered the surrounding road. How many people were out there?

  I didn’t have time to count. The dead man’s rifle was mere feet away. An AR-15, just like Corser had mentioned just minutes ago. I hauled myself out of the burning wreckage and pounced on the weapon like the life raft it most certainly was. Bullets smashed down around me, none of them hitting, all of them sending my mind into a chasm of panic. I raised the weapon and squeezed the trigger, firing blindly in the direction of the approaching enemies.

  Whether my bullets hit their mark, I didn’t know, but it achieved what I needed it to. It made them duck for cover. I turned back to the Humvee and tried the passenger door. The impact had caused it to buckle. But the window had smashed. I leaned inside and tried Corser’s seatbelt. I thumbed the catch, and two-hundred pounds of solid human dropped free.

  The impact kicked some life back into the dead man. I saw his eyes open, and heard him gasp for air. His wide eyes caught mine.

  ‘Get up, soldier,’ I shouted. I grasped at his shirt and heaved. He weighed a tonne. In his confusion, he kicked wildly like an upturned frog. It gave him a little momentum, and I was able to haul him free.

  By which time, the approaching hostiles had gone back on the offensive. With Corser lying spreadeagled across the road, I pinned myself against the Humvee, snatched up the rifle and fired again. This time, my bullets sailed true. I caught the guy on the left dead centre in his chest, and just like the man whose gun I had stolen, he dropped to the ground.

  But his partner was luckier. He fired back, spraying rounds into the Humvee, and forcing me to retreat. I retaliated with blind fire, which gave Corser enough time to get to his feet and leap into cover.

  ‘How many hostiles?’ he barked at me.

  I thrust the AR-15 at him.

  ‘How the hell should I know. Two less than before.’ I shouted. My ears rung from the barrage of guns and fire. Definitely more than eighty decibels. Definitely more hearing damage. I raised the revolver and fired at the nearest enemy. My bullet missed again.

  Corser pointed the AR-15 and fired six shots at the enemy. Each round precise and considered. The last bullet cut through the man’s balaclava, and sent a mist of blood exploding out the back of his head. Our ammo was limited. I checked the revolver. I had two rounds left. And I had no idea how many Corser had.

  ‘We need to get Cage out of here,’ shouted Corser. ‘Go, now. I’ll cover you.’

  I nodded and passed him the revolver, then I eased myself around to the passenger door once more. No way to get around to the driver side door without putting myself in the line of fire from an untold number of enemies. I ducked down, squeezed into the space Corser had occupied. The fire was hotter, louder, brighter. A ticking time bomb. If it caught the fuel tank, we were doomed.

  There couldn’t be more than a matter of seconds. The fire was too strong to see any other outcome. I squeezed deeper inside the wreckage. Cage was still. His eyes were closed. His left arm drooped against the roof. His right arm was tucked into the steering wheel. I tried the seatbelt clip. The metal was hot to the touch. Just like mine, it didn’t work. Just like mine, it trapped him there.

  Your mission, should you choose to accept it. Kill Maddox Cage.

  Those had been the words of Agent Miles. That was the mission. No better way to do it than right here. Fate was trying to do the job for me. I could get out, run away and let him burn in the inferno. No one would blame me.

  But there was something in me that couldn’t. I pictured his flesh bubbling and melting as the fire ravished him. No one should go through that. I pictured Gail, arriving on the scene to watch her father burn before her eyes. I couldn’t put her through that.

  With the snapped blade, I cut Cage’s belt, and watched the giant old man crumple. Just like Corser, I seized hold of his torso and tugged him. The fire was spreading. It licked at my arms, singeing the hairs. My skin burned as it rubbed against my heated clothes. I yanked Cage closer, but he didn’t budge. His arm was trapped. Fate wanted it to happen. I didn’t. I forced myself into the flames. Felt the heat invade my eyes and ears and throat. I gripped his arm and worked it free.

  Something latched onto my ankles, and before I could kick it loose, I was pulled free in one quick motion. I tried to resist. Wished the revolver was in reach to fire at my attacker, but as I emerged, I realised it was Corser. He pushed me aside and heaved his boss out of the wreckage.

  ‘We need to get out of here,’ he bellowed. ‘Grab an arm, we’ve got to get him to cover.’

  I seized Cage under his left arm and together we jacked the unconscious man up to his feet. Then we ran. The onslaught outside had not ceased. Nor had it lessened. As we moved for the trees, bullets whistled through the surrounding air, coming within inches of my head and torso. Cage weighed down on my exhausted shoulders, but I kept going.

  And not a moment too soon. As my feet left the tarmac and squelched down into the sodden, snow-drenched soil, I felt an unholy blaze cascade across my back. The explosion of the ruined Humvee deafened me, and the force of the shock wave was enough to send the three of us off our feet.

  I landed in the snow, and gasped for air. Corser was already scrambling to his feet.

  ‘We don’t have time. We have to move,’ he barked.

  And he was right. Our enemies were right on our tail. Unperturbed by the explosion, I could see seven men sprinting out of the forest opposite in our direction. All clad in camouflage gear and balaclavas. All armed with an assortment of assault rifles. All ready to kill.

  I scrambled to my feet and heaved Cage up and wrapped my arm under his shoulder. The sight of the approaching enemies spurred us onwards, and within seconds we were deep into the trees. The ground was uneven beneath our feet, and more than once I felt myself begin to fall. Every time, Corser stayed strong, and managed to keep the three of us from collapsing again.

  A staccato of rapid gunfire thundered through the thick forest. With each passing moment, they closed in, and it wouldn’t take long for one of them to hit their mark.

  ‘This is no use,’ I gasped. ‘We need to do something.’

  ‘We need to keep moving.’ Corser groaned.

  ‘They’ll kill us. We need to take the fight to them.’

  ‘We’re out of ammo and outnumbered. We need to keep moving.’

  I glanced behind me. The density of the trees was working in our favour. Our enemies flicked in and out of sight as they made their approach. There one moment. Gone the next.

  ‘I’ve got an idea,’ I breathed.

  Corser just grunted. He was beat. Cage was still out of it.

  Or dead.

  We kept moving. I needed the right spot for my plan to work. I found it a few seconds later. The ground dipped and rose like waves on a rough sea. I spotted a place big enough just off to the left.

  ‘Over here,’ I said, yanking Cage and Corser in my direction. I pointed at the spot, and dropped Cage as quickly as I could. I didn’t want to stop moving. Didn’t want to give them a target. Corser took the hint, and as soon as his boss hit the ground, he darted away in the opposite direction.

  Together, we were a large singular target. Separate, well, anything could happen.

  I tracked left, arching around as far as I dared. I kept myself low to the ground and moved deeper into the trees. I was grateful most of the snow had cleared. It made my approach faster and quieter, and made sure I wasn’t contrasted against it as I moved. Made my chances of success that bit bet
ter.

  The further I moved, the fewer bullets seemed to head in my direction. I spotted intermittent flashes of movement through the trees, but no one looked to be headed right for me. I couldn’t tell how many there were. Somewhere between five and ten. All heavily armed. One with a goddamn RPG, not that I expected that to make another appearance. One made enough of a statement. Two was overkill.

  I spotted a snapped branch nearby. It was about two foot long, and as wide as a stop sign post. It would do. I snatched it up and kept moving.

  Like a stone thrown high into the sky, I reached my pinnacle. The upward momentum died away, and gravity reached out to take hold. Except it wasn’t gravity that was bringing me back. It was anger.

  They had to be ahead of me now, running blindly through the thick trees towards an enemy that had changed tactics.

  I spotted one through the trees on my ten o’clock. Hopefully the guy was dragging his feet. I didn’t want someone else to spot me. I stalked him as quickly and quietly as I dared, closing the gap between us with every second. He too held an AR-15. A popular weapon for people trying to ruin my day. It didn’t help him much though.

  When I was close enough to smell the guy’s aftershave, I raised the branch high up in the air like I was playing whack-a-mole, and crept closer. Ten foot. Five foot. Three. I brought the branch down on the back of the guy’s head and heard more than just wood snap. The guy crumpled under his own misgivings. I snatched up his rifle and slung it over my shoulder. One down.

  Maybe nine or more to go. Not exactly great odds. But I’d survived worse, and I wasn’t in the mood for failure.

  I spotted three more hostiles up ahead. They were packed tightly together, like soldier sardines. With the AR-15 in my hands, I knew that the moment I opened fire, the game was going to change again. No more element of surprise. But something had to change, otherwise they were going to find Cage, or Corser, or me, and we’d be right back at square one, without the element of surprise.

  I checked the rifle over. The magazine was half-empty, or half-full, depending on your outlook for murder. All I needed were a few well-aimed shots to do the job. Half a magazine was enough.