Dark Rule (COIL Book 3), page 26
"Check the prisoners, you fools!" the man roared.
Ducking out of sight before he was spotted, Brad palmed his second stun grenade.
"Get to the harbor, understand?" Brad ordered the one-eyed man. "Cover your ears until after the second explosion, then run for your lives!"
There was no time to wait for confirmation. Brad stepped into the wall opening in full view of the dozen soldiers outside. The two nearest guards stopped in their tracks as Brad cracked his neck left, then right. The bald man and Dirk looked in unison at Brad. This was his ballgame now, Brad thought with a half-smile. Dirk nodded at Brad like a catcher over home base.
Calmly, Brad pulled the pin on the grenade as the bald man's mouth opened in stupefied silence. Brad did the wind-up, cocked his arm, and fired.
The bald man could've reacted to any other man's throw, but there was no time to react to the rocket Brad pitched into the ribs of the bald giant. The collision of the grenade with the man knocked him sprawling, but then came the explosion. Dirk covered his ears, but the grenade had landed only a few feet from his head. The concussion disoriented anyone that was nearby.
For good measure, Brad tossed another grenade at the nearest soldiers, then hid behind the wall next to Lacy as the explosion rocked the street and shattered the soldiers' senses for thirty seconds. Those who were unfamiliar with stun grenades fled in all directions, certain a full battle was waging, and some screamed that an army of Turks was invading.
"Go!" Brad drew Lacy into the street. "Get to the port!"
Albert and his one-eyed companion followed Lacy across the street, passing the staggering, blinded soldiers to reach the remains of the laundry beyond.
Brad dashed into the smoky street to Dirk, who was choking and confused. But when Brad yanked the veteran to his feet, he submitted to Brad's guidance into the laundry. Once in the rubble out of the soldiers' sight, the two paused to catch their breaths.
"We have to go back!" Dirk shook his head. "The prisoners—we have to go back and get them!"
"I already got them, Dirk." Brad shrugged off his pack and hooked two more grenades to his belt. "They're in front of us, heading to the harbor."
"Well, then, we'd better catch up to them!" Dirk wiped his smoke-blackened face. "There're soldiers everywhere. Let's go!"
The bulldozer had sufficiently removed several support columns. The entire structure creaked and groaned as if about to crumble around them. Brad let Dirk go ahead as he pulled on his pack again and touched his neckpiece.
"Five coming to you, Walt. I'm bringing up the rear."
"Five?" Walter asked. "Who else?"
Brad started to answer, but he was silenced as the building collapsed around him. He scrambled and tore at the wreckage. Though he reached a hand outside the piled debris, a blow to his head was too much. Consciousness faded as a fire burning nearby flickered out.
*~*
Chapter Twenty-nine
"Which way do we go?" Lacy asked Paul as he and her father caught up to her on a street corner.
It was daylight now. The peasants had apparently heard the sounds of battle, and while they probably would've been in their fields by then, today they hid in their small dwellings.
Paul and Albert stopped next to Lacy and looked in each direction. Albert was breathing laboriously as he clutched his ribs.
"I don't know." Paul shook his head. "I'm from Sankaddan."
Lacy peered back the way they'd come, up a winding street crowded by one-room houses with covered windows. The intersection before her made no sense. She thought the sea was straight ahead, but there was no street straight ahead, only another wall of houses. A wrong choice could mean circling back to the rehab center.
"Wait!" Albert wheezed. "Horatio. The guard. I promised him he could come with us!"
"That's out of your control, Daddy." Lacy squeezed her father's arm. "If he was coming, he would've been in place. Where's Brad?"
At that instant, they heard the sound of feet behind them. The three escapees held their breaths as a tall man with a handlebar mustache ran toward them. Lacy moved closer to her father, though he was in no shape to protect her. And Paul was barely able to support her father, let alone ward off an attack.
"This way!" The mustached man guided to the right. "Come on! They're on our heels!"
"He's with Brad!" Albert slapped Paul's back as if he were prodding a horse to move ahead. "Follow him!"
Again, Lacy glanced over her shoulder, but didn't see Brad. She said a prayer in her heart for her cousin.
The mustached man waited for the three struggling Christians at the next corner. He nudged Paul aside and took Albert by the wrist.
"My name is Dirk. I'm sorry to have to do this, but we have to move faster."
Albert nodded firmly. With a practiced tug, Dirk pulled Albert over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Lacy saw her father manage a determined breath. Pain etched his face. An instant later, he went limp.
"Someone's coming behind us!" Lacy said.
Dirk led the way at a faster pace, Lacy followed, and Paul brought up the rear.
Lacy smelled the ocean a dozen steps before they rounded a warehouse corner and saw the blue green water of the harbor at sunrise. A long, flat speedboat bobbed in the waves ten feet off the shore. Walter was standing on the bow! She ran faster, passing Dirk and plunging into the water.
Arriving at the boat before the others, Lacy reached up and grasped Walter's slender hand. With surprising strength, he pulled her from the water.
The hiss of a rocket-propelled grenade was heard an instant before the grenade exploded in the water next to the boat. Water erupted, then cascaded over the boat. Lacy looked up to see two men in a Jeep across the harbor reloading the rocket launcher.
"Get us out of here!" Dirk barked at Walter.
Squeezing Lacy's hand, Walter smiled at her, then scrambled toward the bridge as Dirk tossed Albert onto the deck from the waist-deep water. Lacy pulled her father away from the side and cradled his head protectively as a second RPG exploded dangerously close. Dirk grabbed Paul by the back of the pants, lifted him onto the deck, then climbed up himself. Only then did Lacy notice the man wore a leg brace. Who was this stranger?
The speedboat's motors roared as Walter forced the throttle forward. Lacy saw the look on Dirk's face as he surveyed the beach and the few streets they could see. She knew what it meant.
"Brad . . ."
"He knew the risks," Dirk stated, then with more sensitivity, "Brad's a smart kid. He'll know what to do. We'll come back for him. If we stay now, we're all dead. Go!"
Walter sped out of the harbor. In their wake, RPGs exploded at intervals, but none of them on target. Lacy's eyes welled with tears in fear for Brad, but pride for Walter as she watched him at the helm, piloting the boat with a fierce look on his face. Brad had freed them, but she knew it had been Walter's plan. It wouldn't have worked without him.
Albert gained consciousness and looked Lacy in the face. Though Paul lay gasping on the deck beside them, he smiled as he felt the spray of the sea.
"Did Brad . . .?" Albert asked through labored breathing.
"No, Daddy . . . No."
#######
It was dawn by the time Heather Kooper reached the rocky beach on the southeast quarter of the Island of Zalzuna. She unloaded her gear onto the rocks from the dinghy before checking in with Jasper and the Lavers brothers who were circling the island in the yacht.
"Come in, Jasper. I'm on dry land. Over."
"Roger that, Caver. We're picking up chatter. You hearing it? Over."
Listening for a moment, Heather still heard nothing.
"Negative. Must be the cliffs. What is it? Over."
"Good news. The boys have the Jamisons!" A few seconds passed. "Five going to the harbor. Walt, come in. This is Jasper. Over."
Waiting anxiously, Heather hated that she was missing the conversation due to cliff interference. She wondered if she'd need to climb the cliffs now at all.
"Caver, come in."
"I'm here." Heather clipped on her climbing gear. "Did I row here for nothing? Over."
"Everyone made it to the speedboat but Brad. Repeat: Brad is still on the island. Some guy with Walt named Dirk says they had a secondary evac plan to go south to the airport or to Sankaddan. Over."
Heather's heart beat a little faster. Maybe they'd see some action after all! The boys had done the hard part, but maybe her team could still be used.
"Okay, I'll get to the runway. You guys cover Sankaddan." Heather chalked her hands. "Anything else for me? Over."
"Yeah. Walt's trying to raise Brad on his comm. Getting nothing. Over."
Sighing with a growl, Heather remembered that vengeance belonged to the Lord, but she wasn't leaving without that boy. She felt responsible, having forced the boys to go in alone.
"Jasper, we'll tear this island apart if we have to. Understand? Over."
"Copy that."
"Contact in one hour. Out."
Clapping her chalky hands, Heather tethered her bag of gear to her waist and began to climb the cliff face.
#######
Trevor Niles was so furious, he could barely see as he drove his Jeep from the beach of New Manchester to Zalzuna. His lack of sleep wasn't helping his anger, either. He'd been awake all night on the beach with the soldiers, waiting in ambush for the team he expected to attempt to free the Jamisons. But, his Internet ploy had fallen apart, apparently. Wasting time and men, he'd focused on the wrong part of the island.
Punching the dashboard, Niles cut his knuckle. There'd been a rescue team, indeed, but they hadn't taken the bait he'd offered by saying the Jamisons were being held in New Manchester. No one would throw his words back in his face! But Niles had been wrong about the Christians; they weren't stupid. Every time Patrick Gibson entered his life . . .
The Patrick Gibson search hadn't been handled well, either. How could Niles gather support as dictator of the country with so many failures? Fredrick and his men wouldn't follow a man who had no successes! It was Gilgal all over again!
Swerving around a corner, he noticed a column of smoke rising from the midst of Zalzuna. It was an hour past dawn, and in the daylight, the whole island would see the black smoke from the rescue team's attack. By noon, all would know the situation, of his failure. And by evening, General Yousef would be informed, and though the greedy man left the administration of the island in the hands of others, he'd feel the need to reprimand Niles. At that thought, Niles bit the inside of his cheek. He wasn't ready to do away with the general and take over the island . . . yet. That meant he'd be forced to listen to the man's chastisement.
Driving through Zalzuna, Niles stopped in the street where the way was entirely blocked by a stationary bulldozer. Behind the dozer, the rehab center was in a heap of rubble from which small fires burned. Beyond the center, another building, which had once been a laundry, had collapsed. The place was a disaster.
He climbed out of the Jeep. One soldier climbing through the debris noticed Niles and shouted to the others that the assistant governor had arrived.
Flanked by two soldiers, Fredrick marched up to Niles. Resting his hands on his hips, Niles shook his head like a disappointed father.
"Tell me we got someone, anyone." Niles felt a sinking feeling inside.
"My men . . . we're . . . still searching." Fredrick had a look of defeat on his face.
"The prisoners?"
"All are gone. Some ran away. Others escaped the island with Dirk. I mean, Patrick Gibson, and his team."
"So, there really was a team."
"Yes, sir. The men say five or six strong, but I saw only Patrick and one other." Fredrick touched his side. "The other threw a flash and bang grenade at me so hard, he broke a couple of my ribs."
"You'll live. What are you doing now, besides standing around?"
"We sent a patrol boat in pursuit, but Patrick had a speedboat waiting for him, something faster than we have in the fleet. Besides, if we start harassing vessels in the vicinity, the Greek navy will—"
"I know what the Greek navy will do, Fredrick!"
"The only good news is, I think Patrick was alone with three of our escaped criminals when he reached the harbor. An RPG squad got a pretty good look at them. Whatever team rescued the Christians, they must have gotten separated from the rest in the chaos."
"They're still here?" Niles felt a glimmer of hope. If he could catch someone legitimately classified as an enemy of the state, the reprimand from the general would be less severe. "You think they're still on the island?"
"It looks that way. Seems maybe they were in one of these buildings when they collapsed. That's why we're searching for sign."
"And what if they're not here?" Niles scowled. "You're wasting time. We could have criminal invaders on this island and you're sorting through smoldering bricks, you fool!"
"What else would they be doing on the island? If they were left behind, it's just a matter of time before someone comes across them. I've already broadcasted a reward for information."
"Obviously, they're not going to make contact with anyone!" Niles spat. "Do I have to think of everything? If the enemy is still on the island, they'll be trying to leave. Get men stationed at all ports wherever there are boats, and start policing the coasts. And broadcast this new message: the foreign enemy has already killed twenty Zalzunian children—tortured then murdered them. They want our island's resources to exploit us, to wipe us out. And double the reward for information."
"Get on it!" Fredrick ordered a sergeant on his right.
"One more thing," Niles added. "Patrick is crafty. The other Christians were probably just as sinister. An attack like this . . . they had to have help from an islander. I want a full investigation. We may have a traitor amongst us."
Fredrick glanced to his left where Horatio stood silently.
"Soldier, you see anyone acting suspiciously?"
"Sir, you were here." Horatio stood up straight. "It was too dark to see anything for certain. I chased the enemy all the way to the harbor, alone, so the others here may need to give their accounts."
"Very well." Niles nodded. "You two lead the investigation when the search is exhausted. I'll make a call and get some reserves to the coast to assist in the search." He looked up the slope where the volcano rumbled more than usual, but he had greater things to think about than a pending eruption. "I'd better go talk to the general. Of course, he won't be happy."
"I'll go to Sankaddan," Fredrick said. "My plantation is on the way. Some of the escaped prisoners fled south. We'll round up at least some of them, and keep our eyes open for foreigners."
Niles gestured at Horatio.
"Aren't you one of Fredrick's interrogators? An apprentice of sorts I saw a few days ago?"
"Yes, sir."
"Your efforts are to be commended, young man. Catch us some Christians and you'll find a sure future in my administration."
"Thank you, sir!" Horatio smiled and saluted. "I'd like that very much!"
Niles rolled his eyes at the gullible soldier. He wished he had men that were more intelligent.
#######
"Here they come!" Jasper O'Shottie called from the bridge of the yacht.
Bounding up the companionway, Clifford joined Bruce and Jasper on deck as they gazed to the east.
"Can you believe those boys did our job?" Clifford watched as the speedboat closed on the yacht.
"That doesn't mean we can go home quite yet." Bruce moved to the bow to catch the line from the speedboat and secure the vessel on their port side.
Peering to the north, Clifford saw where the Island of Zalzuna was only a spot on the horizon. If Heather got into trouble, they were ten miles out. He didn't like the distance. They were a team, and he preferred to be at her side to watch her back, with Bruce at Clifford's side to watch his back.
Clifford focused again on the newly arriving speedboat. His anger had settled down some, but earlier, the fury had boiled over—fury that Walter and Brad had taken such a risk without the rest of the team. Now, Clifford felt a different anger—aimed at the culprits that had possibly captured Brad, who was evidently still on the island. If he were caught, he'd surely be executed.
On the speedboat with the others was a tall, brown-haired man with a handlebar mustache. Clifford's mouth dropped. He knew this man! Rather, he knew of him. Nathan Isaacson's arm was bandaged, but the wound didn't seem to hinder the mid-thirty-year-old man. Over the years, Clifford had been on enough missions—some of them for COIL—to recognize the operative when he saw him. So, this was the professional who Walter had sent to recon for the team. Heather wouldn't believe it was Nathan Isaacson! As Clifford watched from the rail, the mysterious operative climbed aboard and shook hands with Bruce, who didn't seem to recognize the legend.
Nathan and Bruce helped lift Lacy and Albert Jamison onto the larger vessel, followed by Walter. Jasper joined the introductions, but Clifford remained mid-ship. He never knew what to say to victims, and Lacy and Albert had obviously been abused. Despite Clifford's desire to avoid the gathering, Lacy spotted him and let go of Walter's hand to walk up to Clifford.
"Hi, I'm Lacy Jamison."
"I know who you are."
"Thanks for everything you've done."
"Well, we haven't done anything, yet. That was all Walt and your cousin, so far, and . . . that guy."
"Dirk. His name is Dirk."
"Right. Dirk." Clifford bit his lip. Of course, Nathan Isaacson wouldn't mention his real name, not to civilians. "I'm glad you're okay, Miss Jamison. Sorry about your mother."
"Thank you. What about Brad? You don't know what it's like on that island, or what they'll do to him. You're going to get him out, right?"
"Yeah, we'll get him out. For sure."
"Oh, thank you." Lacy gave the British man a hug, then went back to the others.
Ten minutes later, Lacy and Albert went below deck while Jasper, Walter, and the Lavers brothers crowded around Dirk on the bridge. Dirk didn't disclose his true identity, but Clifford sensed his commanding presence. Clifford was easily intimidated by such men, as he'd been by Brad and Walter, but it was by the small lessons he'd learned in dealing with the boys that he kept his outspoken mouth shut for a change. Besides, he felt honored to be standing next to a ghost.
