Dark Rule (COIL Book 3), page 25
It was too dangerous to talk to Albert, Horatio decided. Albert wouldn't believe he really wanted to help him, anyway. The old man would think it was a trap or test. Even if he did get the door open and the two talked, what would the conversation be?—I've beat you without mercy, but I want to escape the island with you if someone tries to rescue you and your daughter. Oh, and by the way, if you're not rescued, you're scheduled to be executed at dawn.
The two guards from the lounge suddenly passed Horatio as they marched down the corridor with a thermos of coffee for the other man. The officer at the other end of the corridor looked back to see Horatio standing guard. There was no reason to suspect that Horatio was having thoughts other than absolute loyalty to the country; he was Fredrick's primary torturer! Even some veteran soldiers didn't speak to Horatio because they knew he'd be their own torturer if they were ever suspected of disloyalty.
The officer and the other two left the building by the only door, which faced south, to check on the men waiting in ambush and give them coffee. Horatio was already standing next to the prisoners' door. He cringed with uncertainty. The other guards could come back any minute. It was a stupid thing to dare. If the captives were feeling particularly anxious tonight, they might even rush the door. That had happened before, Fredrick had told him. What if it happened now? Horatio wouldn't be able to stop such a vigorous attack.
But still, Horatio didn't move away from the door. More than all the risks and threats of discipline, he remembered the love in Albert's voice. Albert had seemed wise, not stupid, for believing in his God. With such a strong belief in his God, Albert was willing to endure great agony at the hands of the enemy—and still try to share his God's love with them. Never had Horatio seen such passion, such faith.
Though Horatio knew the bald giant would never admit it, it seemed that Fredrick was afraid of this kind of faith. And it was with this faith that Horatio wanted to fill the void inside his own soul. The emptiness of the communal efforts of the Zalzunian government wasn't fulfilling Horatio. And it had taken someone like Albert to show Horatio what he was lacking in his life.
Perhaps Horatio could find salvation with Albert's God, and maybe even with Albert's rescuers.
Looking down at his hand, Horatio found he'd already pulled the large brass key from his pocket. After checking the corridor one last time, he fit the key into the lock. It clicked when he turned it. His whole body shivered. He opened the door wide enough to fit his head into the room.
The prisoners were asleep, a few against each wall. And all over the walls were drawings—more than Horatio had last seen. The guards had already taken one colored pencil away from Albert, but the sly missionary obviously had another.
"Albert!" Horatio whispered into the room. There were two overhead lamps that never went out for security purposes. No one stirred. "Jamison!"
Several looked up and rubbed sleep from their eyes. One man groaned as he woke.
"Horatio?" Albert Jamison sat up. "Is that you?"
"Come here!" Horatio waved urgently at him. Glancing over his shoulder, he wasn't sure if he would hear the front door open or not. "Hurry!"
A younger man whom Horatio had beaten only three days before helped Albert to his feet and to the door. Horatio swallowed over a lump in his throat as the two men stopped in front of him and met his gaze. Unable to hold their gaze, Horatio's face was downcast in shame.
"They mean to kill you and your daughter in the morning." Horatio didn't mind the presence of the other captive. "You have friends willing to risk their lives to save you. If they come for you tonight, may I go with you? Off the island?"
"Of course, Horatio. You may come, but what of these others?"
"I'm not sure. But I may go with you? Your friends will truly come for you? They care so much for you?"
"Yes, I have friends, Horatio, and my friends are your friends. Do you know when they'll be here? Can you help them find Lacy and me?"
"I don't know. It's very dangerous." Horatio shuddered. "If I knew more, perhaps I could help. There are many outside waiting in ambush. Perhaps no one will come at all. It's nearly dawn—two hours away. Fredrick will come then."
"Save Lacy, Horatio, please!" Albert clutched Horatio's hand. "Worry about no one else but her. Can you do this? Can you save my daughter?"
"How? No, I can't. There's no way! It would mean certain death if I were caught!" Horatio flinched at the sound of the front door opening. "I'll try. That's all."
He closed the door gently and withdrew his key in one smooth motion. Sidestepping twice, he was safe in the guards' lounge. Safe? Tell his trembling hands! Was it possible to save this man and the girl? What then? Even if he could get them out of the building, there was no way off the island, not without help.
After guzzling a cup of hot coffee, Horatio wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He'd much rather die helping people who appreciated his efforts than work for men like Fredrick, who yelled at him louder the more he tried to please him.
With this mindset, Horatio left the lounge, passed the rotation of men coming down the corridor, and left through the entrance. Standing outside, he stretched in the night air. The guards in hiding were on the roof, as well as across the street on the opposite roof—a laundry. It was around the corner of the rehab building that Horatio had been jumped by one of Albert's rescuers. Albert's friends were already here! Horatio's jaw was evidence of that much. But where were they? Perhaps they were watching even now. And he suddenly knew what he had to do to help them.
"Horatio!" someone called from the roof. "Get out of sight!"
"Sorry." Horatio walked quickly across the road and behind the laundry. He watched the darkness for Albert's friends, though once out of sight from the rehab building, everything was shadows.
Pausing at the corner where he'd been jumped the night before, he saw that no one was there. Didn't they know that darkness was running out? They didn't have long to save the Jamisons.
In a jog, Horatio moved down the avenue farther away from the rehab center. None of the others cared who did what, but if Fredrick showed up, he'd want an account for every soldier's activities. Horatio stopped in front of a warehouse door and found the door unlocked, as usual. No one would steal contents from the warehouse; the island had too many informants. But Horatio had been there many times, even back when he was a mere farm boy, before he'd been drafted into his country's mandatory five-year military service.
Inside, Horatio crept around two broken-down Jeeps and a never-before-used armored personnel carrier the general had bought from the Russians. Touching a backhoe in passing, he then admired a giant bulldozer that was only taken out of the warehouse when a new road needed to be engineered. Horatio climbed up the track and into the driver's seat, ten feet off the ground. He remembered when the bulldozer had arrived on the island. It had come from Turkey on a barge when he was just a boy, and the event had produced a spontaneous parade of citizens down every street to the sea.
He pushed the start button. Having driven it once, Horatio hoped it had enough fuel for the task he had in mind. The monstrous machine roared to life, a thundering sound as the engine caught and held steady. Grabbing the controls, he raised the shovel three feet, then started moving it forward. Since he was about to do massive damage to the town anyway, he didn't bother to open the warehouse door. He simply tore through it like it was paper. In the street, he turned to the left and started toward the rehab center. Around him, lights were lit in windows as the roar of the machine woke the sleeping city.
When the laundry building came into sight, Horatio aimed the bulldozer at the middle of the building, knowing it would pass through everything until someone jumped into the seat to stop the controls. Someone would need to stop the machine, because Horatio wouldn't be there. He used a wrench to wedge the gas pedal in place, then he jumped off the crawling beast. Already, he heard shouts from the rooftop of the laundry building, but they wouldn't see him in the darkness.
Horatio ran down the avenue and circled around to the rehab center from another direction. If Albert had friends nearby, now was their opportunity. He waited in the shadows as the bulldozer emerged from the collapsed laundry building. Men ran in all directions. Several fired at the unmanned machine, but it still crawled toward the rehab center.
As the dozer reached the center, Fredrick arrived in a rush. There was fear in his eyes as he stood in the Jeep's headlights—and Horatio knew why. If Trevor Niles found out about such disorder—and he was sure to learn of it—there would be disastrous consequences for Fredrick.
Ducking behind a building, Horatio saw a man with a rifle run past. The man was known to be a brutal guard, but now he was running for his life from the bulldozer. Yes, Horatio had caused this. He couldn't help but grin. But where were Albert Jamison's friends?
*~*
Chapter Twenty-eight
Brad and Dirk crouched behind the forgotten shell of a rowboat. The Zalzuna port waves lapped gently against the shore behind them as they observed the city built on the eastern slope of the volcano.
"It's quiet." Dirk looked up and down the shoreline. "Too quiet."
"It's five in the morning." Brad tapped his wrist. "Quiet is normal at this hour."
"No, not this quiet." Dirk shook his head. "We haven't seen a patrol for over an hour. I was here yesterday morning. People were awake. Something's up, for sure."
"Ambush?"
"Most likely." Dirk snatched a stun grenade off his waistband. Brad did the same, then looked to Dirk for guidance. He nodded at Brad with a mischievous smile. "I've done some foolish things in my life, but this takes the cake. We're almost certain to be going into an ambush against men with firearms."
"I know."
"You think you can toss that far and fast enough to make a difference?" Dirk gestured at Brad's grenade.
"Yeah, I think so."
"Okay. Stay behind me. Stick to the plan. Evac to the boat. If our exit is blocked, or we get split up, evac to the airport on the southern coast, then to Sankaddan."
"Got it."
"Let's go!"
Dirk rose to his feet, then ran across the boat yard to the first row of warehouses and canning factories. Brad hung back a few seconds and picked up three fist-sized rocks.
Brad touched the comm unit on his neck.
"Walter, you there?"
"Yes, I'm here."
"We're going for it."
"Tell me when you're coming my way," Walter said, "and I'll come closer to shore. Better hurry. Darkness is fading."
"All right."
Jumping to his feet, Brad ran after Dirk. He reached the first building as Dirk moved to the second. After jogging around the island all night, his eyes were well-adjusted to the darkness. The small city had no lights, though he glimpsed a few lamps far above the city where the general lived.
Suddenly, Dirk halted his charge toward the rehab center and retreated at a run to Brad's position. He slid like a base runner behind the animal cart where Brad waited. The veteran operative caught his breath and peered up the winding avenue to the west.
"A man in uniform coming our way." Dirk massaged his braced leg. "It's dark enough. He'll probably just pass us by."
Both men lowered themselves flat beneath the cart. Sure enough, the soldier marched down the middle of the street. Passing the cart, he then stopped at a warehouse door and disappeared inside.
"I think that's the guard I questioned last night," Dirk voiced. "Wonder what he's up to all alone. Let's go before he comes back."
Dirk started forward, then jumped back at the roar of an engine from within the warehouse. They watched from under the cart as a bulldozer tore its way out of the warehouse, then turned down their street. The noise of the rambling engine was so foreign to the sleeping town that lamps were lit and residents peered out to investigate the commotion.
"What's he doing?" Brad asked over the noise, but Dirk didn't answer.
The bulldozer filled the avenue. The two didn't realize it was heading toward them until the last second. Dirk grabbed Brad by the back of his pack and together they stumbled from under the cart. They dove through a flimsy doorway as the giant machine crushed the cart and continued westward.
Brad gained his senses and found himself beside Dirk inside a single-room apartment where four pairs of eyes stared with fear at the foreigners.
"We're sorry!" Brad called to the residents as Dirk dragged him back into the street. In Greek, Brad spoke words that Walter had taught him: "Lee-poo-me!"
The two men left the apartment and leaped over the remnants of the crushed cart to chase after the bulldozer. The engine was too loud to communicate, but Brad understood that Dirk wanted to stay directly behind the dozer as it crawled in the direction of the center. Dirk readied his stun grenade, so Brad did likewise. There was nothing stealthy about their approach, now. Everyone could hear them coming.
The powerful machine barely slowed as it plowed through the outside wall of what Dirk had told him was the laundry building. Only then did Brad notice men on the roof scrambling to get clear as it collapsed under their feet. Bricks and mortar crumbled over the bulldozer. Dirk pulled Brad closer to the rear of the beast to avoid harm. Rarely-used electrical wires crackled and sparked to Brad's right, but he didn't stop. The dozer was now unmanned, its driver having bailed out just before colliding with the laundry building.
Several bricks fell on Brad's arms and shoulders as the bulldozer plowed through the opposite wall. Dirk tripped and fell, but Brad pulled him up. The two tucked in closer behind the machine.
Gunshots pierced the night, followed by the whine of ricocheting bullets off the roof and tracks of the dozer. Dirk pointed ahead frantically, and Brad dared a glance around the tracks to see the whitewashed wall of the rehab building. They were headed straight for it!
Two men ran across the road behind the bulldozer, but neither noticed the two infiltrators. The street was in chaos. Wounded men yelled for help from the collapsed laundry. Others shouted warnings to those on the rehab center's rooftop. More gunfire peppered the dozer, causing Brad and Dirk to duck lower. Electricity popped, the effect similar to a strobe-light show, mixed with the muzzle flashes.
Sparks caught something in the laundry rubble and flames grew. Men ran frantically left and right as the bulldozer crashed through the rehab center's eastern wall.
Brad fell. A section of wall collapsed over him and Dirk, but Brad jumped up and continued after the machine. He wiped blood from his brow. Suddenly, a passageway opened on Brad's right. They were inside the building! The lights fluttered, but stayed on. Steel cell doors lined the corridor's right wall.
He turned to guide Dirk to his find, but Dirk was no longer beside him. Looking back, Brad saw Dirk had fallen under the wall, and both his legs were caught. Dirk waved Brad to go on ahead. Nodding, Brad climbed over debris into the corridor as the bulldozer rumbled through the rest of the building and beyond.
"Uncle Albert!" Brad yelled, dashing from steel door to steel door. "Lacy!" He found all the doors open and the cells empty, until he reached the last one. Finding it locked, he beat on the outside with a fist. "Uncle Albert!"
"You!" someone behind him shouted. "Don't move!"
Pulling the pin from his stun grenade, he tossed it as he turned around, covering his ears and shutting his eyes. The grenade exploded with an ear-piercing concussion and a flash of blinding light in a cloud of white choking smoke. Brad slowly opened his eyes. Taking a breath, he gagged on the fumes, but he was in better shape than the two blind, deaf, and choking soldiers. Panicked, one of them fired a round into the wall while the other felt along the wall toward Brad.
Wasting no time, Brad ran to the nearest soldier and tore off a key ring from his belt. He had only seconds before more soldiers entered the corridor to check on their captives. The ambush had certainly been in place, but neither the island authorities nor the rescue party had foreseen the participation of the bulldozer. Brad understood that God was answering their prayers by turning events in their favor.
The first three keys didn't fit the lock, but the fourth one did. He threw the door open, only to take a step back as he looked into the face of his Uncle Albert! A small black man with one eye supported him on the left, and Lacy, with ratted, filthy hair, supported his right.
"Brad!" Lacy released her father and threw her arms around Brad's neck, sobbing against his shoulder. "I can't believe you're here!"
"We must hurry!" the one-eyed man stated as the other prisoners rushed from the room.
"Follow me!" Brad took Lacy by the hand and snatched another stun grenade in preparation. As he led the way down the corridor, he touched his neckpiece. "Walter! I have them! We're coming to you!"
"Okay. I see a lot of commotion up there. The city's coming to life."
"Walter!" Lacy gasped through the corridor's fumes. "Our Walter?"
Not answering, Brad stepped over the wall debris where Dirk had fallen, but Dirk was no longer there. He had no time to look for him now. Dirk was a professional. Brad hoped the man was already fleeing to the shore.
The sky glowed with early dawn light as Brad peered through the hole in the wall left from the bulldozer. Soldiers still ran around in a frenzy while a giant, bald man shouted orders. Suddenly, two soldiers dragged Dirk by the arms across the street and dropped him at the feet of the bald man. Dirk rose to his hands and knees, but the bald man kicked him in the ribs, forcing Dirk to roll away. The bald man pointed at the building.
