Nathan Jones - Determination

That was even worse news. Trev only saw two of 2 ndSquad’s Marines among the survivors. “What happened?”

“The target convoy arrived early. Way early.” Graham looked away. “Williams wanted to go as soon as we heard the engines, but I insisted I could finish getting the explosives ready in under a minute and refused to leave. I didn’t realize how fast the blockheads were coming, or how quick they’d respond once they saw what we were doing.”

“Sounds like it was a calculated risk,” Trev offered, unsure what to say.

“Yeah, sure.” The Marine stumbled, leaning more heavily on him. “Calculations shouldn’t come into it. They’ve got vehicles, we’re on foot. We should’ve run as soon as we heard the engines, like Williams wanted. Instead we tried to race half a dozen trucks to terrain they couldn’t follow us through. Most of our losses came in those first few minutes, although it certainly wasn’t a picnic when they started chasing us on foot, either.”

Graham fell into grim silence, and Trev didn’t pester him any further. He understood what the man was going through.

“Keep coming, Trev. We’ve got you covered.”

Trev perked up. Rob Jonas and his team were on the way. That was good, because if any blockheads were brave enough to sprint in pursuit his and Graham’s teams were sitting ducks. “Straight west?”

“You can come northwest a bit. I wouldn’t stick to the rise with blockheads in trucks hot on your heels, but I think it’ll cover you long enough if you make for the foothill south of our slope.”

A quick look ahead revealed that the foothill in question was still half a mile away. “Are we going to make that before the blockheads?”

“You should, but if not I’ve got more of our people coming. You can hunker down somewhere while we find a way to extract you.”

Trev really didn’t want to leave it at that. “Let’s pick up the pace a bit, okay?” he told Graham, pulling the Marine into a quicker trot. The man grit his teeth around a yelp of pain, but he kept pace. So did the others.

The foothill didn’t seem to be getting any closer, and with every step they took Trev felt like they had a huge target on their backs. At any moment he expected to feel the pain of being shot, this time maybe in a spot his body armor didn’t cover. As for Graham and his wounded, they were having a harder and harder time pushing forward.

Jane and Hans lost their hold on the man they were practically carrying, and he dropped like a stone and curled up whimpering on the ground. It took them precious seconds to scoop him back up and keep going, and their pace slowed to barely over a walk. Trev glanced over his shoulder anxiously, searching the terrain behind them for signs of enemies taking aim. If he saw any he wouldn’t be able to do more than shout for them to get down, but it was better than nothing.

Then Rob’s voice came over his radio again. “You can take it easy now, Trev. The blockheads aren’t pursuing.”

Trev slowed to a stop, and with a relieved gasp Graham slipped out of his grip and slumped to the ground, panting. Trev ignored his condition for the moment, turning to look behind him with a frown as he replied. “What do you mean they’re not pursuing? We’re still hundreds of yards away from safety and they were right behind us.”

Rob responded in a pained tone. “I think they’ve got something else in mind.”

Trev’s and Graham’s teams reached the hill Rob was keeping watch from with no further incidents, aside from having to go slow for the wounded. Lewis radioed in to let them know that Harmon was sending medics, which was a relief.

But once Trev had done what he could for Graham and his team he couldn’t spare too much focus on them, because although their wounds were a serious concern their conditions weren’t life threatening. Which couldn’t be said for everyone.

He joined Rob, and through his binoculars watched as the blockheads set up on the rise that had covered his team’s rescue and escape. It wasn’t the worst spot to put a defensible position, he supposed, but it didn’t really do anything for the enemy either. They’d just be wasting manpower guarding nothing.

And it looked like they planned to waste a lot of manpower. Trev counted almost sixty blockheads hard at work digging emplacements on the rise and scouring the nearby area for threats. Trucks had made their way over the rough terrain to flank the position as well, ready to pursue anyone foolish enough to get close.

All that effort, for only three people.

“I want to see,” Graham growled. His face was gray and blood had soaked through the makeshift bandage on his arm, but he’d still found the strength to stand and join them.

Trev wordlessly handed over his field glasses. He’d already seen as much as he could stomach of the sight anyway. Graham had to lean on him as he lifted the binoculars one-handed to inspect the scene, but within seconds he sucked in an alarmed breath. “Oh, no.”

On the highest point on the rise the blockheads had planted three poles in the ground, smack dab in the center of their new fortifications. Just in the last few minutes they’d brought three men up to hang from them, their bound hands tied to the tops. In that position their entire weight rested on their stretched arms and the tips of their toes, at least for as long as they could hold that posture before slumping to hang in an agonizing position.

The demolitions specialist had recognized the bound men as Williams and two other members of 2 ndSquad. All three appeared wounded, the corporal so badly he couldn’t keep his feet and hung suffering. The blockheads had bandaged the wounds but that was the extent of the mercy they showed. If you could call it that.

What were they doing posting the Marines up on that rise, within binocular range of the foothills? It was almost like they were inviting a rescue, only with so many soldiers and the fortified positions they’d hastily set up around the rise any attempt would be nothing short of suicide. They seemed to be parading their prisoners for no purpose but to show they had them.

He felt his blood run cold as a creeping suspicion dawned on him. This seemed like some sort of mind game, a demoralizing attempt for the benefit of those watching from the safety of the mountains. And whatever the enemy was planning, odds were it wasn’t going to be pleasant for the three Marines.

Graham had begun cursing, and Trev saw tears slipping down his cheeks from behind the binoculars. He reached out to take the field glasses from the Marine, but Graham stubbornly held on. “I’m not looking away. I owe Williams and the others more than that.”

Trev nodded and thumbed his radio toggle. “Smith here,” he said, aware of how hoarse his voice sounded. “The blockheads have set up on the rise about a mile southeast of the slope my squad’s guarding. They’ve got Corporal Williams and two of his men.”

Harmon responded immediately with some emphatic cursing. “What do they want?” he demanded. “Some kind of prisoner exchange?”

“I don’t think so,” Trev said. “Whatever they’re doing looks pretty messed up.”

Davis’s voice came over the radio. “I’m a ways out but I’m on my way. What exactly are they doing?”

Trev reluctantly described the situation, noticing how Graham’s gray face paled to nearly white as he did.

Once he finished there was a long pause before Davis responded, voice strained like he was running. “I’ll be there soon.”

“So will I,” Harmon said grimly. “Let us know immediately if anything changes.”

Lewis was feeling fine, now. Or at least that’s what he’d insisted, when he hiked down to join everyone on the hill overlooking the rise where the enemy held their prisoners from 2 ndSquad. And it was mostly true, since aside from a mild pain behind the eyes and slight vertigo he was pretty much completely recovered.