Hollow Point

by Rawlin Cash

  Hunter's gun still smoking, he stood up from his cover.

  He draped his rifle over his shoulder and pulled out his sidearm.

  She an injured, awful, and dangerous fawn—a horrible creature that needed to be put to sleep.

  He made his way toward her. His steps were thick and heavy.

  When he saw her, she was on her back, breathing slow. She saw him at the same time. She lifted her pistol and tried to fire, but he kicked it away from her hand before she could pull the trigger.

  "Finally," she said. "A worthy opponent. I'd grown tired of slaughtering sheep. I've been waiting to come face-to-face with a true wolf."

  Hunter hovered over her failing body. She was beautiful.

  "You're so silent," she said between heavy breaths. "People in this country like to talk…" She broke out into a fit of coughs. Thick streams of blood poured from her mouth and stained her neck. "Why won't you speak? Why won't you claim your trophy? Won't you gloat? Americans are supposed to be loud and vulgar. You're quiet."

  Hunter aimed his M9 at her head.

  "Answer me!?" she screamed. "Why won't you gloat!? You won! You won! You're a disgusting pig, American! You are a disgusting pig!"

  Tears streamed from her eyes.

  Hunter didn't care.

  He let her finish her sentence. He let his silence speak louder than any of her words ever could.

  He pulled down the trigger and put her down.

  He wasn't going to give her the satisfaction.

  She didn't deserve it.

  He grabbed the Hind D keys from her pocket and made his way back inside the main building.

  It was time for Kim, Yong, and the rest of the Liberators to get the fuck out of there.

  Fifty-One

  Margot wondered how Hunter was doing. She was scared and nervous. When the submarine surfaced, would the world be at war?

  She woke up to a knocking at her cabin door.

  "What do you want?" she said, opened the door. She hadn't spoken to Gus in days. He'd been pouting like a petulant child.

  "Captain Murray wanted me to tell you that we'll be back at Pearl Harbor within the hour. You should gather your things. We'll need to be discrete as we get off the boat. Remember, they think we're repairmen."

  "Thanks," she said.

  He walked away from her cabin, took a few steps, and then stopped. He turned around. "You know, I only agreed to help you because I thought I'd get a chance to get in your pants again. You were such a whore in Rome."

  She smiled. "Well, now I've seen your true colors," she said. "You really are an asshole."

  "I am what I am," he said.

  He stormed off, feeling vindicated somehow.

  Margot brushed off the insult. She'd let him think he won. He knew that he was just a sore loser. She'd dealt with men like him her whole life—the desperate kind.

  She packed up her clothes and got ready for the Triumph to return to Pearl Harbor's port. She was eager to get an update about everything. She felt claustrophobic. It reminded her of the time she spent with her mother's family after her father's death.

  That family had all tried to convince her to stay away from police and intelligence work. They promised her wealth. They promised her a life of luxury. But that family felt like a noose around her neck.

  Her passion was in politics, was in intelligence, was in uncovering the underbelly of what was actually wrong with the world and trying to fix it.

  She cut herself free from their grip when she got into MI6. She took the first position she found in East Asia, the farthest place from England she could find, and stayed there for years, working as a political professor and spy.

  As she filled her backpack with her belongings, she thought of how different her life would have been had she not got into MI6. The thought made her shudder.

  Once the Triumph was docked, she made her way to the unloading chamber. Gus was standing behind her. His arms crossed, and his lips pouty.

  The two waited for the tiny red light above the door to turn green, and then, when the door was open, they stepped foot onto the dock.

  "I'm sorry," he said as they stepped outside. "I'm an asshole. I shouldn't have said that."

  "Admitting is the first step."

  Gus smirked.

  The two of them walked from the S-91 Triumph and made their way onto solid ground. Margot missed the feeling. It felt like she was back where she belonged. Submarine life was simply not for her.

  The feeling of being back on solid ground reminded her of the first time she spent lecturing about international political conflicts while a lecturer at the University of Tokyo. She'd been there for only six months, a short time—but it was the best time of her life. It felt like she was where she belonged.

  "I'll drive you to the airport," Gus said.

  "Aren't you coming back to London?"

  "No," he said. "I'm going to stick around Hawaii for a couple days. I need to unwind."

  "There are lots of pretty girls around here," she said. "Maybe you'll find someone…"

  He cut her off. "Don't," he said.

  "Don't what?"

  "Don't act like it's all okay all of a sudden because it's not. I'm a piece of shit, I know that. I'll always be a piece of shit. Some guys just are, I guess. I'm cool with what I am. I'm an MI6 operative who specializes in schmoozing his way through life. It's a talent to be a piece of shit, y'now. Not everyone has a knack for being a completely selfish bastard."

  "What are you saying?"

  "I'm saying that you were the first girl I met that made me not want to be a complete fucking asshole. You reminded me of what I could have been if I hadn't just given in to my worst impulses. When I realized I couldn't have you, well… Well, it reminded me that I am nothing more than I've always been."

  "You can still be a good guy?"

  "No," Gus said. "I can't."

  The two of them walked through US Army Base and made their way to the vehicle parking lot Gus had parked the SUV in earlier that week. A few times, a soldier or officer approached them, asking for clearance. Gus flashed the credentials MI6 had given him, and they were waved through.

  "You don't need to drive me to the airport," Margot said.

  "Just get in the SUV," Gus said. "It's the least I can do."

  Margot thought about not getting into the SUV, but she didn't want to hurt the poor guy any more than she already had. If this was his way of saying sorry, then at least it was something.

  As he drove to the airport, she watched the beautiful Hawaiian shoreline pass. It was a short drive, but it felt like it was something from a dream, palm trees, an endless blue ocean, and a beautiful sandy beach. She thought about dipping toes into the sand and letting the water rush up to her feet. It was a nice thought, but it wasn't realistic.

  There'd be time to relax later. Right now, all that mattered was getting back to London and then meeting with the MI6 executives. She needed to update them on the status of the operation.

  Gus dropped her off at the airport and peeled away before she had a chance to say thanks. She'd be 30,000 feet in the sky in a few hours. She found that funny, going from the depths of the ocean to the heights of the clouds all within a twenty-four-time span.

  Her life was like that, she supposed.

  It was always up and down.

  Rich and poor.

  Fifty-Two

  Hunter landed the Hind D close by Wung's front gate. Despite the wind, snow, and dark, it was obvious what had happened to the village. The Devil's Daughter had unleashed her hellfire on the entire town. There were bodies everywhere, most half partially covered by the falling snow. But one body stood out amongst the rest.

  The elder.

  Hunter unbuckled Yong from the Hind D seat and carried him toward the bright orange flames that had engulfed the town. Kim's eyes filled with tears as he followed.

  "Where are the villagers?" Yong said, his voice trembling with fear.

  Kim ran clumsily toward t
he town. The snow was deep, and he stumbled with each step. He'd expected this, but not the extent that it had been delivered. He knew he was foolish not to expect only a light attack, but… still. The town would be no more, and it was all his fault.

  "I need to see the elder," Yong said to Hunter.

  "He's dead."

  "I need to see him."

  Hunter dropped Yong onto the cold ground. The elder had a bullet in his head. Still, Yong tried vainly to wake up the dead bastard.

  "He's not going to get up, kid," Hunter said.

  "Why did she do this? The elder was a peaceful man. He only wanted what was best for the village."

  "War eats up those who want peace."

  Hunter knew his response sounded cruel, but it was the truth. War was a rabid animal. Peace was placid and weak.

  Yong lifted the elder's hand to his face. "This is my fault," he said. "I shouldn't have said anything. I shouldn't have given these people hope."

  "It's only going to get darker from here," Hunter said. "The old man died before the worst of it."

  Yong looked up at Hunter and sneered. How could a man be so cold? Why did he even come to this country if all he was going to do was act like nothing mattered?

  Kim wandered into the wreckage of the town to find the survivors. He was looking for anything, anyone. Most of the buildings were on fire, but there were a few outliers. Some buildings seemed to have survived the attack with nary a scratch.

  Hunter stared down at Yong and felt bad for the kid. The rebellion was never going to unravel the way he'd hoped it would. Good people would be lost. War was ugly and, when possible, should be avoided at all times. If you didn't believe that, then you were a dumb ass or a psychopath.

  "You are fighting for your country, not for one town," Hunter said, trying to find a way to console Yong. "The elder died for the cause."

  Yong looked at him with an empty expression. "This village was my whole country. They protected me after my father was tried by the Supreme Leader. For years, I lived in an attic here. This dead man in front of us, he protected me. He lied to government agents numerous times on my behalf. Telling them, each time, that he'd not spotted the boy they were looking for—the boy who was good with numbers and who had accessed the KPA's network. This man…" He turned to the cold body of the elder and took hold of his hand. "This man never judged me or thought me a cripple. He never thought me weak. He was a good man."

  Hunter remained silent. The kid was finally getting it. Yong was learning the true cost of war. It was a valuable lesson, one that Hunter hoped would stick. Too many young men think of war as something romantic and ideal.

  The snowflakes that fell from the sky glowed orange on account of the flames. It made them look like falling ash.

  Hunter lifted Yong up and carried him into the town. They needed to find Kim.

  As they walked past the gate, they heard shouts and screams. It sounded like an argument. "What are they talking about?" Hunter asked Yong.

  "It sounds like Kim is trying to find out what's going on. The villagers seem angry."

  Hunter grunted. The night was just beginning.

  Fifty-Three

  Chin's arms and legs were tied together as if he were a hog. The villagers had gagged his mouth, and two men were standing guard over him, holding shotguns.

  "What the hell is going on?" Yong shouted to the villagers from Hunter's back. "What the hell happened here?"

  "Looks like we've found out how the bitch found us," Hunter said.

  "Villagers, please!" Yong shouted. "Stand down!"

  They couldn't hear him. They were shouting at each other. Most of their words were directed at the young boy on the ground. Chin's mother was close by. She was on her knees and pleading with some of the townsfolk, trying to explain her case, trying to defend her child's actions.

  "Villagers!" Yong said.

  Hunter looked for Kim. The sooner they got control of the situation, the better.

  Kim was standing nearby and was trying to get close to Chin, but the townsfolk wouldn't let him.

  Kim was arguing in Korean.

  Hunter grunted to Yong. "What's happening?"

  Yong was close enough to decipher what the debate was about. "It looks like Chin told the woman where we were…"

  "Makes sense," Hunter said. "The kid was smart. He was doing what he needed to do to survive."

  "The villagers want to kill him."

  Hunter sighed. Of course, they did. It was the same old, same old. They were blaming the kid because the kid was the only one that showed any damned commonsense. Everything was a fucking a hurdle in this country.

  Hunter pulled out his gun and fired it into the air.

  He needed to knock some sense into the villagers.

  The villagers stopped screaming when they heard the shots. They all turned to face Hunter and Yong.

  "Did that get your attention?" Hunter said to them all, knowing that they didn't understand him but not caring.

  The townsfolk sneered at him—a few spat in his direction.

  Kim walked up to Hunter.

  "The boy's name is Chin Yo. He told Park about our location in the mountains. It looks like he ran out of hiding and contradicted the words of the elder, who'd tried to steer her away. The villagers blame him for the elder's death."

  Hunter looked over Kim's shoulder and saw the kid, face down in the cold mud. Tears streamed from his eyes, and his ears were bleeding. They'd beaten him before tying him up.

  "Tell them to get away from the kid, or I'll put a bullet in each of their heads," Hunter said. "I'm serious."

  Hunter pushed past Kim as Kim relayed Hunter's orders to the town.

  The townsfolk cursed Hunter. They yelled every word they could think of at him. Once Hunter stood in front of the boy and his mother, he turned to Kim. "Will you translate?"

  "Of course."

  Hunter cleared his throat and addressed the village.

  "You're angry at this boy because he put your town's survival above some hokey hopes in some silly rebellion. He was smart. If the elder was smart, he would have told the bitch we killed up on that mountain about our location. That would have been a wise decision. The rebellion is, after all, what drew her here. The rebellion, the Liberators, should be the ones taking care of her. Not you. If you're mad at anyone, be mad at the Liberators leader. Yong Min-Ho."

  Kim repeated every word that Hunter said but stopped short of repeating the last part—the part about the fault falling square on the rebellion and Yong.

  Hunter knew that Kim hadn't repeated what he said when he didn't hear Yong's name. He turned to Kim. "Why are you holding back? Tell them everything I said."

  "It's not our fault."

  "It is."

  "We are helping you. We are simply… This is our fight. Not yours."

  Yong cut him off. "Stop. defending me," he said to Kim. "Hunter is right. We need to tell them the truth. The villagers deserve our respect. They've sacrificed everything." He looked around what was left of the village. Many of the buildings in the town would have to be knocked down. They were beyond repair. "This is our fault, not Chin's. I should not have fired on the patrol with the machine gun."

  Kim closed his eyes. He sighed. He followed the direction Yong gave him. He turned to the villagers and explained that the attack was the Liberators fault, that if the villagers had anyone to blame, it was them.

  Chin’s mother cried out in thanks.

  The villagers turned their anger at Kim and Yong.

  Hunter knelt down and tied the boy free. The boy ran to his mother's arms when he had the chance. Hunter then led the mother and boy to their house. He escorted them personally because he didn't want anyone else bothering them. The boy did the right thing.

  "Does he speak English?" Hunter asked the mother at the door of their still-standing house, not knowing if she spoke any.

  "I do," the boy said. "She doesn't."

  Hunter smiled. "You were smart, kid."
>
  "I didn't want that devil to kill my mother. I don't care about you or the rebellion or anything."

  Hunter chuckled. "You're a survivor, I admire that. You did the right thing."

  He left the boy and trudged through the snowy streets of Wung back to Kim and Yong. They were still arguing with the villagers, although it looked like everyone was growing tired.

  Yong ended the discussion by stating that it would be the last night the Liberators would stay in Wung. The villagers seemed satisfied with that result, albeit partially. They'd paid dearly for their involvement.

  As the villagers dispersed, Hunter picked up Yong and carried him on his back toward the garage. Kim and the three other Liberator soldiers followed.

  Yong was silent the whole way.

  Hunter hoped that Yong learned his lesson. The war was not going to go the way he'd want it to. It was going to be destructive. It was going to destroy everything that Yong had held dear. That was what war did.

  Hunter checked over his equipment. Thanks to the communication station, he now had a sniper rifle and some ammo for it, but he was running low on ammo for his M4. Clearing the station had been more costly than he'd wanted it to be. The next part of the operation was going to be far more difficult than the last part. Hunter sighed. He wished he had some form of communication with Langley or MI6. He was stuck in the middle of a hostile situation with a bunch of amateurs.

  "Did you grab the jet fuel cannisters from inside the comm tower?" Hunter asked Kim.

  "Yes," Kim said. "We will have enough fuel to fly to the valley."

  Yong overheard them. "And now that I have access to the KPA network, we'll be able to disguise our flight. They won't know we're coming. I'll log our flight on their system. They'll think it is just a training exercise."

  "Good," Hunter grunted. "I'm going to sleep."

  He wasn't satisfied, but how could he be.

  "There's a slight problem," Yong said.

  Hunter was about to lie down on the cement floor and use his duffel bag as a makeshift pillow when he heard Yong's worry. "What now?"