The Sentinel belongs to PetFly and Paramount, not me.
Dang it! This is an AU story set during the Viet Nam
War.
Beta'd by my patient sister Judy, but I've made some changes since then and all
mistakes are mine.
Dedicated to Judy who got me hooked on TS in the first place and also to all
those who founght in Viet Nam.
In
Country
Jim checked his
packs again; ammo, grenades, smoke grenades, socks... never noticing the amused
looks on the faces of the rest of the patrol.
Rafe shot a look at Henri who clapped a hand over his mouth to prevent an
outburst of laughter. Rafe rose to
his feet and quietly walked over to Ellison, startling the big Lieutenant when
he placed a hand on his shoulder, “C’mon Ellison. You’re gonna wear it out before we leave in the morning.
Let’s go get some chow and hit the sack early.”
Jim looked back at Henri who was almost choking to suppress his chuckles
and smiled self-consciously. “Sounds
good Rafe. But do we have to take H?
Especially if he’s gonna have fits like this in public.”
Henri howled.
Captain Simon
Banks rounded up Taggert and headed for the mess tent.
They had traveled in country the day before, jeeps providing
transportation as far as Charlie Compound.
The roads, if you could call them roads, had been tricky but they had cut
hours if not a day or two off the time needed to get them to the Laotian border.
Joel had worried about the rough, washboard road affecting his munitions,
but had packed so carefully nothing had happened, other than lots of sweating,
cursing, and enduring a lot of teasing from H about him being as anal as their
good Lieutenant. Joel’s nose was
scenting the air like a bloodhound, “Oh man, smells like somebody here can
cook! Let’s get a move on
Captain!” Simon picked up his
pace to match Joel’s; they almost collided with Rafe and Jim as they hustled
around the corner of the mess tent.
“Looks like
we all had the same thought.” Simon
smiled around the big cigar jammed between his teeth.
“Of course rank does have its privileges and I fully expect to be first
in line for chow. Am I right?”
Jim straightened to attention, Rafe and H quickly following his lead.
“Sir, yes sir! Captain
should always be in front of his men, sir!
Simon’s smile widened. “And
of course you will be in front of us the entire time we are in Laos, sir!” The smile faltered and the cigar was plucked from the quickly
scowling mouth. “You keep that up
and you’ll be pulling KP the entire time we’re searching for that village,
Lt.! Now step aside.
I’m hungry and there is no way I’m taking the leftovers once Joel and
Henri here have been through the chow line.”
Laughter broke out among the five men as they walked inside.
Three days
later they were humping their equipment across the hills into Laos.
They had set a breakneck pace, traveling mostly at night which was
dangerous in that ‘Charlie’ ruled the night in Nam.
Whatever ground the US forces gained during the day, they seemed to lose
at night to the VC. And the closer
they came to the border, the more patrols they had encountered.
Simon was craving a cigar like never before, but knew the faintest smell
of tobacco would alert some of the VC scouts to their presence.
Their diet, since they left Charlie Compound, had comprised mostly of
rice and fish. And he swore it was something he would not eat ever again
when he got back to the world. They
were tired, muddy and wet from the constant rains, but the only complaints came
from the extra men foisted on them by the colonel.
Joel, Rafe, Henri and especially Jim were focused, alert for any problem.
The three others he’d been saddled with complained about the food, the
terrain, the rain and he was just about ready to tie them to a tree and leave
them. But he wouldn’t, much as he’d like to, but swore if he
heard one more word of dissent, he’d ream them a new orifice where the sun
wouldn’t shine.
Ellison pulled
out the map Sandburg had drawn indicating the location of the village where
he’d been captured. //Wonder where the kid is right now?
Still in Southeast Asia, or on a boat back to the States?
Don’t think the military would let him hitch a plane ride all the way
back. Poor kid. Mom
killed right in front of him, all those college kids and his professor and then
all the villagers. It’s a wonder
he managed to do any of the things he did since then, much less draw this map
for us.// Jim shook his head,
trying to clear his thoughts about the young man he had rescued.
They needed to get there, recover the bodies if possible and find out
what all the interest was about in that area for the VC.
Period. He looked around to find Joel once more checking his
equipment, carefully ensuring the stability of the munitions they might need.
Rafe was quietly giving a radio report to HQ while Henri watched the
perimeter for his partner. Simon moved next to him, again impressing him how silently
the big man moved. Jim extended his
hearing as Simon placed a hand on his shoulder, just like Sandburg had told him.
He heard the noises of the jungle night, Rafe’s quiet report, H humming
to himself and the disgruntled mutterings of the three men huddled together on
the other side of their small camp. He
moved past them, stretching his hearing for furtive movement, the sound of cloth
rustling in the foliage. After
about 10 minutes, Simon shook his shoulder roughly and he brought himself back
from his search. “Nothing out
there right now Captain. We can
rest for a few hours and get started again come dawn if you like.”
Simon studied the drawn face, noting the lines on the forehead, tell tale
signs of another headache for Ellison. He
knew they should push on while it was dark, but with the rains and the heavy
tree canopy in the area it wasn’t what you would call daylight during those
hours. “Yeah, Jim.
I think that’s for the best. You and Joel turn in and Rafe and I will
take first watch. We’ll trade out
every 3 or 4 hours, make sure everyone gets rested.”
He watched Ellison move with catlike grace to his pallet after telling
Joel to turn in. Rafe turned off
the radio and Simon filled him in on being his partner for first watch.
Henri let the other men know the plan for the night and noted how they
wasted no time turning in, after some grumbling about being picked for second
watch. He climbed onto his pallet,
wondering just how much they could count on them for back up if and when needed.
******************************************************************
They moved
stealthily through the deserted village. It
was approaching dusk, the rain dwindling to a steady mist, the men keeping close
watch as they walked through the eerie quiet.
It was as if they were the only people alive and it was totally
unnerving. Rafe and H moved
together as a single unit; they had worked and fought together long enough that
they had a natural feel for the other’s whereabouts.
Joel and Simon checked the other side of the village, experience in the
field helping them keep track of each other.
Jim was on point and the three men assigned to the patrol by the colonel
brought up the rear, nervously checking each deserted dwelling yet again.
Their nerves were stretched thin after the past 24 hours; they had
managed to evade no less than a dozen enemy patrols and seemed ready to bolt at
the first hint of trouble.
Jim raised his
hand to signal a halt as he caught a whiff of wood smoke . The others crouched
in place as Ellison proceeded cautiously. The
smell was faint but enough that he could track it to its origin.
A small campfire about 500 feet from the main village, embers still red,
two small pots on the rocks with rice and a fish stew in them.
Jim saw the faint trail leading from the fire down to a small copse of
trees, where two frantic heartbeats were hiding.
He motioned for the others to circle, indicating where the two were
concealed. He waited until all were
in position before speaking, “Come out now.
We are with the United States Army.
We mean you no harm.” There
was no way of knowing if they spoke or even understood English, but most were
familiar with ’United States’ at this point in the war.
They waited for a couple of minutes and when no one appeared, Simon
repeated the ‘invitation’. Another
couple of minutes passed, but just as Simon started to give a final warning, two
grimy, weary, injured Viet Cong soldiers appeared, hands over heads, no weapons
visible.
Simon relaxed
fractionally. “Rafe, Joel, see if
they understand any of the dialects you’ve managed to pick up.
But secure them first. Don’t
want any surprises. Henri, you’ve
got the med kit. You and Ellison
check their wounds while we, indicating the other three, check the rest of the
buildings.”
He was turning
to signal the three when he saw Ellison tilt his head, listening.
Jim strained his hearing to the limit, then yelled, “Grenade!”
Everyone dropped to their bellies and covered their heads.
Three concussion grenades landed while Jim tried frantically to find the
control dial for his hearing. The
grenades went off and his world exploded in a nightmare of overwhelming noise.
******************************************************************
Simon Banks was
livid. Not only had they been taken
without any warning, not only were they trussed up to a log and marched along
like turkeys heading for a Thanksgiving dinner, not only were Henri and Joel
injured, oh no. Well, they were
minor injuries thank god, but that wasn’t why he was so angry.
Jim Ellison, his friend, his best soldier was absent without leave, so
totally out of it, he was best described as comatose.
Two VC were dragging him along, not caring what they dragged him over or
through. Not even a litter to carry
him on, no sir! They had hogtied
him and used the ropes to haul him behind them.
The man’s back and legs had to be turning to mincemeat from the callous
treatment and no one would listen to him, no matter if he begged, bellowed,
threatened, cajoled, cursed or entreated. And
now he was quiet; a grimy rag stuffed in his mouth and tied tightly had ensured
his silence. He watched and waited
and glared at their captors and prayed for a chance, any chance to get free.
Two hours later
they entered a clearing and they looked around at the buildings; one clearly a
command center with a short but powerful radio transmitter, two large barracks
and one probably where supplies were storied, mostly weapons and munitions
judging from the number of guards around it.
What caught and held their attention was the number of ‘cages’ around
the buildings. They all knew the
purpose behind them, knew what happened to those unlucky enough to be captured
and thrown into one. And right now
there was nothing they could do to avoid that fate. They watched as Ellison was released from his bonds and
thrown into the first cage. Soldiers
winched it up until it was hanging about three feet off the ground and secured
it. Henri was next, followed by
Joel, then Rafe. The last of his
men were herded into a pit and a rusty cage door was slammed down and locked. Simon was prodded forward into the building he had mentally
designated as their command center and found himself facing Major Phen.
“Well, well.
Captain Banks. It is so good to see you again.
I hope you will enjoy your stay here with us. I am looking forward to this opportunity to repay you for
your hospitality.”
Simon
glared as the smaller man strutted in front of him, the gloating look on his
face matching his sarcastic words. The
gag was still firmly in place and Phen obviously had no intention of ordering it
removed. “You have nothing to say?
Well, let me provide you with a bit of information about your stay here.
Your army has no idea that this ‘base’ exists, neither do they know
about our allies that assist us here with our ‘information gathering’
techniques. You and your men will
cooperate or your visit will become infinitely more uncomfortable.”
Phen nodded to his men, “Take him back to the others.
Make sure his accommodations are equal to that of his men.”
Simon was
dragged back outside and found himself shoved into his own cage.
He looked around and found Rafe talking in a low, urgent voice to Henri.
Joel had roused himself and was checking over his wounds, which were
mostly superficial cuts from shrapnel. Henri
had hit his head on a large rock and had had a hard time focusing on walking
after their capture. The VC had
taken great delight in using the butts of their guns on his lower back to gain
his attention. Henri was answering
Rafe and his answers evidently relieved the young man’s worries.
Rafe looked over at Simon and gave him a thumbs up.
Simon breathed a small sigh of relief, but that relief was short lived as
he looked over at Jim who hadn’t moved at all.
It was almost impossible to see the shallow rise and fall of his chest.
Simon was worried that Jim would never come out of this fugue, no, zone
out was what Sandburg had called it. //Almost
wish the kid was here right now. Maybe
he’d know what to do to help Jim.//
Major Phen
watched as Banks was pushed into his cage with a satisfied smile lighting his
pinched features. He startled when
a very large hand landed on his shoulder. “I
wish you would stop sneaking up on me that way!”
It worried Phen that so large a man could move with such grace and with
little or no noise.
“My friend,
do not worry. We are allies,
comrades, sworn to help one another. Now,
what can you tell me about our new guests?”
******************************************************************
At dusk, the
prisoners were given a small cup of water and a bowl of rice.
Simon’s gag was finally removed along with his bonds.
He greedily drank the water, then quietly called out to his men to find
out how they were. All answered
except Ellison. His guard prodded
him for a few minutes, but nothing happened.
The guard threw the water in his face; there was no reaction, no
movement. “Is he breathing?” Simon yelled at the guard, not knowing if the man understood
English. The guard angrily yelled
back in Vietnamese, then shook the motionless Lieutenant. Simon tried again, “Is he breathing?” The guard marched over to Simon, took the butt of his rifle
and slammed it into his thigh. Simon
groaned; he was the largest of the men and the cage had him wedged tightly with
no way to avoid the blow. The guard
yelled again and stomped off.
“He can’t
understand you Captain,” Rafe said tiredly.
“He’s going to get the Major because he thinks Lieutenant Ellison is
faking.”
Simon groaned
again.
Major Phen
marched out onto the porch and looked around at the occupied cages.
He noted that the two injured men were watching him, much more alert than
when first brought in. He adjusted
his jacket and motioned for his bodyguards to precede him.
The guard bowed low then snapped to attention.
He motioned toward Ellison who was still slumped over. Major Phen slowly approached the cage, pulling out a riding
crop from his belt. He had greatly
admired General Huang and copied his mannerisms, dress and most especially the
riding crop to use when displeased or angered.
He poked the Lieutenant with the crop much as the guard had with his
rifle. He next raised the crop and
struck Ellison lightly across the face. Nothing,
not even a flinch. Anger marring
his features, he raised the crop and struck again, leaving a welt across the
pale face. Phen stepped back and
motioned for the guard to open the cage. The
guards pulled Ellison out and dumped him on the ground.
“Leave him
alone! He’s been unconscious
since the grenades landed next to him!” Phen
turned to Simon and smiled, and that smile gave Simon chills.
Phen turned back to the man lying on the ground and raised his riding
crop high in the air. A giant hand interrupted the downward swing.
Phen whirled to scream at the one who dared stop him, but was silenced by
a look. Simon held his breath.
Joel couldn’t help himself, “Dear God in heaven.”
Henri spoke at the same time; “We are in really deep shit this time
man.” Rafe’s eyes widened then
narrowed as the man stepped from the deep shadows.
“I don’t
think that would be a wise idea at this time, Major Phen. Please have your men bring the Lieutenant inside.
We can assess his condition more fully that way.”
Phen uneasily motioned for his men to pick up Ellison and move him
inside. Colonel Gregor looked
around at the other prisoners for a moment, “Gentlemen, please do not worry
about Lt. Ellison. Your coming was anticipated and we have much to do in a short
time. Please try to get comfortable
and enjoy your, um, accommodations, such as they are.” Deep chuckles came from the massive chest as Gregor moved up
the steps, ducking as he entered the door.
“Simon, I
mean Captain. Did I just see what I
think I just saw?”
“Yeah, Joel.
What the hell is a Russian officer doing here in Laos?”
******************************************************************
Brackett waited
impatiently while the driver finished replacing the flat tire on their truck.
It was a US Army truck; one designed to haul no less than 20 soldiers
when there was an accessible roadway. The
driver wiped his hands on his fatigues, “Okay, ready to roll again, sir.” Brackett nodded, went to the back of the truck and clambered
up. The truck pulled out with a
lurch and Brackett almost lost his seat. Righting himself, he straightened his clothes and looked at
the truck’s only other passenger. Baleful
blue eyes glared at him. “Come
now Mr. Sandburg. Surely you’re
not still upset about the change in travel plans?
No? Then it must be the
change of destinations. But we
thought you’d be happy to return to the village where you last saw your dear
mother and poor Dr. Stoddard.” A
strangled gasp was his answer. The
student’s pale face was drawn; the look of anguish at Brackett’s taunting
words emphasized by the tears that escaped now tightly shut eyes.
“It may interest you to know that a couple of old friends of yours will
be waiting for you at our final destination.”
The blue eyes opened, then widened with understanding of the implied
threat. “Please do try to rest
during our trip, Mr. Sandburg. You’ll
need your strength and energy once we arrive.”
Blair slumped
back as far as his tight bonds would allow.
His short plane ride had ended at a deserted airstrip and he had been
forcibly removed and taken to this truck. Brackett
did not seem to care that his bad ankle hampered his ability to walk; the man
had ordered the splint removed and two large men had picked him up and thrown
him inside. His leg had banged
against the side of the bench seat, the pain almost enough for him to black out.
His wrists were bound then hauled above his head and tied off.
They secured his legs to a cleat on the floorboard of the truck and bound
him at the chest and waist to struts along the side.
His shoulders were burning from the position and his hands had long ago
lost any feeling. His ankle
throbbed with the beating of his heart. His
mouth felt like cotton, but he wasn’t about to ask Brackett for water, as the
man seemed to delight in tormenting him with barbed remarks.
Brackett
watched the young man through slitted eyes.
He knew the kid had to be hungry and thirsty, but he hadn’t uttered the
first word since they had started this little road trip.
From the information he had on Sandburg, this had to be a first; most
reports named him a chatterbox, albeit one termed a knowledgeable and
entertaining chatterbox. Of course,
he had made sure certain comments would keep the student on an uneven emotional
keel, easier to control him that way. He
watched as Sandburg tried to wet his lips. He’d let him suffer a while longer, but not to the point he
wouldn’t be useful. No, that
wouldn’t be smart on his part. It
was his job to get the kid to his associates and in fairly good shape.
What happened from there was out of his hands.
Blair had no
idea how much time had passed, but he knew it had passed in pain and discomfort
as he was bounced around on the road from hell.
They had gone through three streams and one had been wide and deep enough
to almost be named a river. The
constant rains had washed out the road, such as it was.
His head ached after being bounced off the steel struts on the truck’s
side; both arms were now numb just like his hands.
His shoulders ached and burned from the unnatural position he was tied in
and he didn’t, couldn’t forget his ankle.
It felt swollen and the pain had returned with a vengeance.
His tongue felt thick in his parched mouth and he had a sneaking
suspicion he had been in and out of consciousness a few times.
He tried to look over at Brackett, but his eyes wouldn’t focus.
Thinking it didn’t really matter at this point, he let his head fall
forward again and waited for a brief respite by way of oblivion.
He startled when he felt a hand touch his forehead.
He heard Brackett curse, then felt something moist at his mouth.
He opened his cracked lips a bit and almost cried when the water flowed
into his mouth. He drank and drank,
whimpering when the canteen was taken away.
The hand returned to his forehead, then the hands moved to his bad ankle.
He tried to get his mouth to work, to tell, to beg Brackett to not
move his leg, but the words wouldn’t form and then Brackett lifted the leg and
Blair couldn’t stop the scream.
Brackett cursed
when he felt the hot forehead. //Damn it all to hell!
Kid’s running a fever. Just
great! He must’ve been hurt worse
than I was led to believe. Shit!
Better get some water into him before he dehydrates.//
He grabbed his canteen and placed it against Sandburg’s lips.
The kid tilted his head a bit and drank deeply, greedily.
When he had drained half the canteen, Brackett took it away.
No way was he pulling bedpan duty and he wasn’t about to untie the kid.
He bent down, intent on checking the injured ankle.
He heard a small sound of protest when he touched the leg, but ignored
it. He lifted the leg and started
to pull down the kid’s sock to see how bad it was when he screamed.
Brackett was so startled he dropped Sandburg’s leg and when it hit the
floorboard, Sandburg gasped and passed out cold.
//Well, that will make it a little easier to check.//
What he found made him a bit sick.
The ankle was badly swollen and the bruising was
dark and ugly. //This is no sprained ankle. It’s broken and they told me to take the splint off?
Stupid motherfu---!// He
searched around and found the splint; put it back on as best he could and untied
the unconscious man. He lowered the
kid to lie on the bench seat, deciding he’d tie him up again later.
Right now, the kid wasn’t any kind of problem at all.
******************************************************************
Simon heard the
truck’s engine straining to downshift long before it reached their prison.
He looked and found Joel was awake and listening.
Joel called to Rafe who had been dozing, then woke Henri.
They’d been doing that every hour or so in case H had a concussion.
The three in the pit called out, wondering what was going on.
Simon told them company was coming and to stay calm and alert.
The truck pulled in next to Phen’s building and two men hopped out of
the cab. The light was poor at
best, but Simon could tell they were not VC.
They were too big and tall and they moved differently than any VC soldier
he had ever seen. No, they seemed,
they looked, please no. Not
Americans!? They moved to the back
of the truck where he heard another man giving instructions.
Simon’s suspicions were confirmed. The voice he heard was American.
There was movement at the back of the truck and then Phen and the big
Russian officer came out onto the porch. They
joined the others at the back of the truck, which Simon grudgingly admitted to
himself was US Army, then all moved back to the porch.
Simon strained to see what was being carried over one man’s shoulder
and when they moved under the single light, he cursed. //Sandburg!
This shit just gets worse and worse!//
Sandburg was
dumped onto a cot next to the one where Ellison lay, unmoving.
The Lieutenant’s pale face sported several welts and bruises; Phen
would not be satisfied the big American was not faking until he tested him a few
more times, much to Gregor’s disgust. Sandburg
groaned, stirred, but did not wake. Gregor
turned to Brackett who was watching the two men with avid interest.
“So, friend
Brackett. What have you found out
for us? Will this work?”
“I’m not
sure right now, but the kid is stronger than he looks. If we can keep them both healthy, mostly uninjured,” with a
meaningful look directed at Phen, “this should pan out for us all.”
“Well, then,
we should try to begin at daybreak. It
will not hurt to let them have this one night of rest, such as it is.
The tests will begin tomorrow. What
say we all retire and prepare for the morning, eh Major Phen?”
Phen merely nodded, lips tightened in anger that Brackett had spoken to
him, looked at him with contempt. He signaled his bodyguards and they left for
his quarters.
“Come friend
Brackett, I will show you to your accommodations, such as they are.
These two will be guarded until we come for them in the morning.”
******************************************************************
Jim Ellison was
irritated and rapidly approaching pissed. He
could not tune out the drums that were thundering in his head.
He had been in such a peaceful place where no noise intruded.
He concentrated on the dial for his hearing, determined to eliminate the
drums, but the dial either didn’t work or the drums were too close. He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly to clear his vision,
taking several deep breaths to clear his head.
The drumming sound receded a bit, but was still very close by.
Jim lay still for a few minutes, accessing his surroundings, not
recognizing a thing. He stretched
his arms and legs, noting the immediate, breath stealing pain of his back and
legs. He felt like he’d been
dragged by a runaway horse. He
waited until the pain abated a bit and as he cautiously turned his head to the
side, he realized why the drumming sound had reached him when no other sound
had.
Sandburg lay
beside him, heat pouring off his body, face and hair drenched with sweat.
The young man had his eyes half open, but Jim didn’t think he was
actually seeing anything. Jim forced himself up on one elbow and noted that they were
lying on cots placed side by side. He
placed a shaking hand on the young man’s chest and felt the heart beating
strongly, if rapidly. Lips
compressed against the pain, he pulled his legs up and put his feet on the floor
between the cots, never moving his hand from Sandburg’s chest.
“Chief? Can you hear me? C’mon
Chief, give me a sign here.” His
other hand smoothed damp curls off Blair’s forehead, his left hand still
feeling the welcome beat of that heart. “Sandburg,
are you gonna answer me? What the
hell are you doing here anyway?” He
let his head drop, chin touching his chest, frustrated at his weakness and the
fact that Sandburg was anywhere near this place, wherever this place was.
The last thing he remembered was hearing the flip, pop of pins coming out
of grenades and dropping to the ground after yelling a warning to the others.
But the way his head hurt and the fact that it was night meant that he
had been unconscious for some time.
He returned his
attention to the student lying in front of him. He visually checked him over, listening to his breathing,
noting his lungs were clear. He
carefully scooted down to check the injured ankle.
The splint was still on, but could tell it had been removed and put back
on by someone who didn’t know how it fit properly. He gingerly removed the shoe and sock and checked the ankle
with gentle hands. //Swollen again, almost as bad as the first time.
When I get my hands on whoever is behind this I’m gonna kill him, but
I’m gonna do it slow. Damn kid! Can’t
seem to catch a break, can ya?// Jim
replaced the sock and put the splint back on exactly as the doctor had back at
the hospital in Saigon. Jim lay
back down; moving gingerly as his whole body seemed to protest the movements.
He needed to rest for a bit, then they would work on getting out of here,
wherever here was.
******************************************************************
Jim never
really slept. He focused on his injuries, doing an internal survey to see if any
of them were serious enough to hamper their chances of escaping.
The time he had lost between the grenades exploding and coming back to
himself, then finding Blair next to him had worked to rest his body in spite of
his new injuries. As he roused
himself from a semi-zone out, he extended his hearing, picking up the slight
snoring from the exhausted student, relieved that there was still no sign of
congestion in the lungs. He sent
his hearing outward, noting the four guards posted outside with two more on the
porch; listened as several in the barracks slept, played cards or talked
quietly. Further out he heard Joel
call out softly to Henri, heard him ask how he was feeling, did he have much of
a headache, chuckled as Henri groused and demanded to know how he was supposed
to feel better when no one would let him get any sleep!
Jim eased to
his feet and slipped noiselessly across to the small window.
He could make out the guards on the porch with little problem.
Both were armed with machine guns and very alert, despite the early
morning hour. Not your basic
trained VC, are you boys? Special
training for guards at a small prison camp?
Wonder what all I missed when I was out of it?
He moved to the side window and found the same for the guard posted
there. He had no doubts the other
guards were equally alert for any movement or noise; he reluctantly returned to
his cot. Sandburg still had a
fever, muscles twitching from restless dreams.
Jim looked around but found no evidence of water, no means of trying to
cool the young man down. Resigned
to the fact he would not be able to affect any kind of escape right now, he lay
down, hoping to marshal his strength for another time.
He grasped Blair’s damp left hand and left his thumb over the pulse
point of that wrist and allowed that beat lull him to sleep.
He awakened
what seemed like five minutes later, but the light slanting in through the two
small windows convinced him he was wrong. He
heard voices approaching, voices both familiar and new.
He checked on Sandburg who was still deeply asleep.
Boots stomped up the steps onto the porch and the door was unlocked and
thrown open. The slamming door startled Sandburg awake; Jim kept a hand on
his chest, the other turned the scared face back to him. He smiled at the kid, hoping it was a reassuring smile, but
figuring that it fell a little short of that.
He looked over as Major Phen strutted inside, followed by a giant of a
man wearing Russian officer’s garb. His
smile faded as he stood, moving to place himself between Blair and the enemy.
“Ah, I see
you are now awake Lt. Ellison,” voiced the big Russian in a pleased tone.
“You see Major Phen, it was as we were told, when the Lieutenant was
placed near Mr. Sandburg, his condition improved rapidly.
Is this not so Lt. Ellison?” Jim
didn’t answer, didn’t blink, all his senses focused on the man who easily
topped Simon’s height by five inches. “Ah,
but I forget my manners. I am
Colonel Gregor Filitov and I believe you already know Major Phen.
Major Phen’s men picked up you and your patrol yesterday after his most
trusted scout led them to you.” He
watched as Ellison’s face remained as impassive as granite and silently
applauded the man. “I know that you do not know him, but I believe Mr.
Sandburg can tell you much about him. Is
that not right Mr. Sandburg?”
Blair had
finally shoved his way to an unsteady upright position as he listened to the
words spoken with a thick, distinct accent.
The question directed at him caught him by surprise.
He looked up to find Jim planted in front of him and not able to see much
else. He raised a shaky hand and
grasped Jim’s wrist, “Jim, who, I mean where are we?
Last thing I remember is being in the back of a truck, tied up like an
Incan sacrifice. Who’s here with us, Sim- I mean Captain Banks?”
The voice was as shaky as the hand as Jim turned slightly to look down at
the young man, keeping the others in his line of sight.
“I’m not sure where we are Chief, but I do know it’s
somewhere we’d rather not be right now. And,
well, Major Phen is here,” he broke off as the heartbeat he’d been listening
to all night quickened at the mention of that name, “and another officer
named... Filitov?” The Russian nodded. “He
seems to know you or at least know about you Chief. Do you know him?”
Blair leaned on
one elbow, moving to look around Jim and then up to the big Russian officer’s
face. “No, Jim.
Never seen him before, but if he’s working with Phen, do I really want
to?” Filitov smiled at Blair’s
question and he moved back to where Jim was blocking his view once more.
“No, Lt.
Ellison, Mr. Sandburg and I have never met, until now that is. But I have heard much about him.
So much accomplished for one so very young. But we have much to do, so if you will please to come with
us, you and Mr. Sandburg, we will get on with the work you have been brought
here for.” Filitov motioned Jim
forward as he stepped toward Sandburg. Jim
didn’t budge, “Sandburg is hurt and he’s been running a fever all night.
Now if you have an infirmary, he needs to be moved there, but he’s in
no shape to do any work.” Filitov frowned as he looked down into Ellison’s face.
He saw no deceit there, no subterfuge.
Major Phen shrugged when he quirked a questioning eyebrow in his
direction. “My men placed them in
here as you requested, Colonel. No
one mentioned that the boy was sick.”
Filitov looked
back to Jim, “Move aside and let me check his condition myself, Lt.
Ellison.” Jim didn’t move a
muscle. “I will only ask this one
time, then I will have you removed. Do
you understand me?” Jim rapidly
considered his non-existent options and grudgingly moved to the side.
Filitov bent over Sandburg who pushed himself even further into the cot
as a big hand came toward his face, a surprisingly gentle hand that covered most
of his face. The hand lifted and he
watched warily as the big Colonel moved to his injured leg.
Filitov lifted Blair’s foot; a cut off cry of pain preceded the young
man into oblivion.
“Goddamnit,
you stupid son of a bitch! I told
you he was hurt! Get away from him
before you...” Jim’s outburst
was interrupted by a gun pointed at his temple, another at his chest. Phen’s guards were on either side and more than ready to
shoot.
Colonel Filitov
ignored them all. He looked at the
injured ankle, then back to the pale face covered in a sheen of sweat.
“Lt. Ellison is quite right about Mr. Sandburg, Major Phen.
Please send for the doctor immediately.
He will need something for the fever and for pain.”
Major Phen’s disgusted look raised Jim’s temper another notch.
“Very well, Gregor. But he
must be ready by tomorrow. Our time
frame cannot be delayed any more than that.”
Phen left the two big men alone. Jim’s
voice was cold with anger, “I don’t know what you have planned, but leave
Sandburg out of it. He’s just a
kid who was caught here at the wrong time and the wrong place.
He’s not a soldier; he’s a college student.”
“Ah, but you
are the one who is wrong, Lt. Ellison. Mr.
Sandburg has an important role to play very soon. You rest and care for him today.
Tomorrow we begin. Right
now, I need to speak to the man who delivered him here. He has many questions to answer.”
Ellison watched
the men leave, making no effort to secure the door behind them. The guards on
the front porch were sufficient to dissuade thoughts of escape at this point.
He sank back down to his cot, going over bits of conversation now that he
had time to think. He stared at
Sandburg’s still form, wondering what answers to all his questions the kid
might have, if any at all. //What
does Filitov want with Blair and what does he think the kid knows?
And who brought him here that Filitov is upset with?
Best scout? And Blair can tell me about him?
Who would that be?// He
rubbed at his tired eyes, ran his fingers through his short hair and curled
forward to rest his elbows on his knees, fingers laced over his head.
//Why didn’t I hear anything until the grenades were being thrown at
us? How could I have missed hearing
that someone else was around? C’mon
Chief, I need you to wake up and tell me what you do know about what’s going
on around here.//
*************************************************************
Filitov marched
to the barracks where he found Lee Brackett enjoying a leisurely breakfast.
Brackett sketched a lazy salute and kept on eating as the big man
approached. He noticed the angry
tic of the right temple about 30 seconds too late.
He dropped his fork as a large hand shot out and wrapped around his neck,
quickly bringing him to his feet. He
grabbed the powerful wrist with both hands in hopes of breaking the vice grip on
his neck, an effort in futility. He
found himself being shaken like a rag doll as the Russian snarled, “You were
supposed to bring Sandburg to me in good shape.
What did you do to him? He
is of no use to us in the condition he is in.”
Brackett tried
to get enough air to respond tugging at the arm attached to the hand restricting
his windpipe. Just as his vision
began to gray out, the pressure eased and he pulled in a greedy lungful of air.
“Didn’t - do -
nothing,” he wheezed. “Kid -
hurt - already,” was all he could manage after that.
Filitov shook him again as a reminder before he dropped him from his
hand. Brackett fell back onto the
chair he had been yanked from moments before, rubbing his abused neck, breathing
deeply to replenish aching lungs. Filitov
paced impatiently, waiting. Brackett
gingerly cleared his throat before speaking, “The kid started getting sick on
the trip from the airfield. Phen
lied when he said the ankle was sprained. It’s
broken and I bet it had barely started to heal when he was released from the
hospital. I thought our
’mutual’ friend gave better Intel than that.”
Filitov nodded
absently, already planning his ’discussion’ with Major Phen.
The other would be at the compound soon and they too would talk.
He wiped his hand across his jacket and sat down.
“You know what we need to accomplish within the next five days?”
Brackett nodded as he drank his glass of juice, wincing as it burned a
bit on the way down. “Then you know we can afford no more mistakes.
Bring our reluctant scout here tonight and we will begin tomorrow,
whether Mr. Sandburg is feeling better or not.
This would work better if he were not injured, but that is not going to
change our goals. Later Comrade Brackett.”
Lee stroked his throat as the Russian left, wondering again why he
didn’t just stay in his nice office in Saigon with the overhead fans whirring
and his favorite bar and brothel just two blocks away.
Major Phen made
his rounds of the prisoners his next duty of pleasure.
It pleased him no end to see the big black American Captain scrunched
inside one of his cages. The others had been there during his humiliating capture, but
it was Banks who had offended him during that captivity. He checked on the others first, all the while keeping Banks
in view. The look on the
Captain’s face was cheering him greatly; if Banks clenched his jaw any
tighter, he would break a tooth or two. “How
are your accommodations, American? To
your liking?” He strutted around
the cage, riding crop slapping lightly into his open hand. “Your men seem to be enjoying their stay here, which is
good. The stay may be for quite
some time, unless other circumstances demand your stay be cut short.” Simon stared straight ahead, determined to give the little
man no satisfaction by reacting to his goading.
“Of course, the corporal over there; he is very young and quite good
looking. My men have been here for
some time with no, shall we say, means of relief.
Yes, he may have to ’earn’ his keep while you are here, no?”
Phen’s smug,
arrogant smile vanished as a large hand grabbed his jacket and yanked him
against the bars of the cage. Simon’s
other hand wrapped around his neck and squeezed, cutting off his air.
“You touch any of my men and I will personally cut off your balls and
stuff them down your fucking throat! Do
you understand me you little prick?” Phen’s
bodyguard, caught napping for such quick reflexes, jumped into action.
Simon’s fingers went numb from a blow to his shoulder; another blow to
his head left him unconscious.
Phen was
apoplectic. He raised his riding
crop and brought it down again and again on the defenseless man.
The others were yelling, shouting obscenities, screaming at the furious
man to stop before he killed their Captain.
Filitov came barreling out of his quarters, muttered a curse and ran to
stop the VC officer.
Once more a
giant hand caught his riding crop, but this time Filitov ripped the crop from
his hand. Phen whirled; eyes
maddened with hate and anger. Filitov
stared at him from his great height, waiting to see if Phen would attack him,
almost hoping the idiot would so he could snap his neck and be rid of him.
Sanity slowly returned to the dark brown eyes.
Major Phen wiped the spittle from his mouth, straightened his uniform,
turned about smartly and marched away, not once demanding Filitov hand over the
riding crop stained with Banks’ blood. Filitov
motioned for the guard to open the cage and watched as two VC struggled to pull
the big American out onto the ground. The
riding crop had opened several shallow gashes that bled sullenly. Filitov mentally added another prisoner for the doctor to
check today.
******************************************************************
Joel waited
patiently for the examination to end, hoping Rafe and Henri could hear what the
doctor told the Russian about Simon’s condition. Major Phen worried him because the man seemed unbalanced.
And evidently held a grudge against Simon from his earlier capture.
A very dangerous combination, at least as far as Simon’s health was
concerned. The doctor stepped away
from the man lying on a blanket on the ground; speaking rapidly he gave Filitov
his findings. As they walked away,
Rafe spoke up, “Joel! He told the
Russian that Captain Banks should be okay in a couple of days, doesn’t even
need stitches. But he didn’t say
anything about him being out cold for this long.
What do you think? He
doesn’t care or there’s nothing he can do for him?”
Joel shook his
head. “Well, at least they’re
leaving him out of that cage for a while, you know lying flat.
That’s gotta be better for him than gettin’ shoved back into one of
these things. You know Simon,
he’s tough! He’ll be growling
at us again in no time!” He chuckled weakly, knowing that he hadn’t fooled Rafe or
Henri for a minute. The others that
were confined in the pit had been silent for a long time, but all had pressed
their faces against the bars when Phen had gone ballistic. He knew they heard him; a grimy hand was raised, a hand with
two fingers forming a ’V’. Wonder
if they mean victory or peace by that? Or
something else altogether?
They waited for
two hours before Simon stirred. Thunder
rumbled overhead and Joel knew it was time for the rains to start in again.
Simon moaned and raised a hand slowly to the back of his head.
He slowly opened his eyes and Joel strained to try and see if his pupils
looked normal. He was just
too far away for anything like that he admitted and waited again for further
signs from Simon. Minutes later the
other hand moved and ghosted over his new injuries, groaning loudly, then
cursing. Joel chuckled at that; if
Simon could cuss, he should be okay. Henri
called out, “What the heck you laughing about Sarge?”
“Simon.
He’s already cussing Phen, so I say that’s a good sign.
Already getting back to normal.”
“I heard that
Sergeant and I’ll thank you to keep your voices down.”
Joel’s head swiveled back to Simon who was now holding his head with
both hands. Thunder boomed again
and he watched Simon’s face screw up in pain.
“We’ll keep it down Captain, but you’ll have to speak to a higher
power about the thunder, sir!” Simon’s mouth curled up in a small, tight smile.
“I’ll keep that in mind Joel. And
I’ll ask him to send down a lightning bolt to Major Phen’s bunk while I’m
at it.” A lot of Amens followed
that comment.
Filitov waited
as the doctor finished examining Sandburg.
Ellison stood at the far wall, two guards with rifles aimed at vital
parts of his anatomy; head and heart. Ellison’s
icy glare still made the hair stand up on the back of his neck and Filitov
wondered not for the first time why the American Lieutenant was so protective of
the boy? As far as he knew Ellison
had only known him a few weeks, yet you would think this was his younger
brother. Sandburg was awake and
every groan of pain during the exam had been answered by a growl from the
restrained Lieutenant. The guards
were becoming very nervous, fingers twitching against the triggers, as Ellison
became angrier.
The doctor
straightened, ordering the ankle should remain elevated for at least 72 hours to
reduce the swelling. He had some
herbal tonic for the pain and also for the fever. Sandburg listened intently Filitov noted.
//He evidently understands what the doctor is saying.
I must find out what languages and dialects he does know before
tomorrow.// He thanked the
doctor and motioned to the guards.
“Mr. Sandburg
should be feeling somewhat better by tomorrow and much better in the next three
days, Lt. Ellison. You should try
to control your temper, especially when someone is holding a gun on you.”
Ellison’s steady glare bore right through him.
Filitov shivered involuntarily under that intense gaze. Once he had been
stalked by a tiger when hunting and Ellison’s stare reminded him of that giant
cat. The guards had moved back outside to the porch and Ellison
warily moved over to check on Sandburg.
“How you
doing Chief? Did that quack hurt
you?”
“It hurts any
time I move my leg, but he wasn’t any rougher than the docs back in Saigon.
And he’s gonna give me some herbals for the fever and pain which is
really okay by me. I hate taking
pain pills and stuff; I hate having all those chemicals invading my body.”
Jim placed a
cool, wet cloth across the hot forehead. “So,
Colonel, I guess I should thank you for getting a doctor to check on Blair and
on my Captain.” Filitov started a
bit at that remark, wondering how Ellison knew about the doctor checking the
captain first. Of course, the
altercation Phen started was very noisy, perhaps Ellison simply figured out that
was why the doctor was so late getting here to check on Mr. Sandburg.
“No thanks necessary, Lt. Ellison.
It is imperative to our plans that Mr. Sandburg is in good condition by
tomorrow morning. He has much work to do.”
“Work?
What do you mean by than, man? And
why do you need me with all these military types here anyway?
And what did you mean when you said I could tell Jim all about your
scout?” Blair’s voice, while
shaky and querulous, demanded an answer. Filitov’s
eyebrow rose, “You will find out everything tomorrow, but today you will rest
and take the medicine the doctor will send over.”
He stared at the young man lying there with a disgusted look on his face,
then over at Ellison who was shifting to place himself between the student and
his enemy. A knock at the door
interrupted the rest of his reply. The
door opened and two VC soldiers entered with a third man following closely
behind.
Jim tensed as
Sandburg inhaled sharply.
“Guardian!”
End of Part 1 In Country
.