Jamie Freveletti - Running from the Devil

Miguel whistled to Boris. “Hope that nose works just as well in the dark as it does in the day, boy.”

Within fifteen minutes, Miguel and his troops were on the move. Boris trotted in front, his head swinging from side to side. Miguel estimated the fire to be five miles ahead. The path currently ran in a straight line, with only a slight rise. If the path stayed straight, and there were no switchbacks, Miguel hoped to reach the burn site in an hour and a half.

The exhausted men fanned out behind. They were used to pushing through exhaustion, and none complained, but Miguel would have to allow them to rest soon.

Forty minutes into their march, a man stumbled out of the bushes and onto the path.

Boris barked once, and the soldiers dropped to the path and took aim.

Miguel saw the man’s tattered civilian clothes. “Hold your fire!” he shouted. He walked up to the man, who swayed in place, and then fell to his knees.

“Do you speak English?” the man said.

“Major Miguel Gonzalez, United States Special Forces. Who are you?”

The man burst into tears.

They helped him to a nearby tree stump and gave him some water. He gulped it down and wiped his eyes.

“Sorry. I never thought I’d hear English again. I’m James Barkett, from Flight 689.”

“Where are the rest?” Miguel said.

“Scattered in the jungle. When the woman started shooting, we all ran for our lives.”

“What woman, and how did she get a gun?”

Barkett shook his head. “I don’t know her name. She was captured later, with Mr. Sumner.” He described Emma and told Miguel about Rodrigo threatening to kill Sumner unless she told him what he wanted to know.

“Jesus.” Kohl breathed the word.

Miguel’s face hardened. “Do you know which way Rodrigo went?”

“No. I don’t think he’s far, though. It’s even possible that she grazed him.”

“What about Sumner and the woman? Do you know which way they ran?”

Again, Barkett shook his head. “I don’t, I’m sorry. When she started shooting, I dove for cover and then ran like hell. I assume they started the fire, though. That’s the watchtower burning.”

“Any idea where the other passengers are?”

Barkett waved at the jungle. “Behind me. We should see them in a few minutes. It takes time to get down the path because of the land mines. There are lines strung all over that path.”

“Any idea how many lines and at what levels?” Miguel said.

“They seemed to run in patterns. Mostly low, but some higher up.”

“Five to one, I’ll bet.”

“I beg your pardon?” Barkett looked confused.

“Five low lines, then one higher. It’s a good rule of thumb when stringing land mines.”

Barkett stared at Miguel. “I’m a manager of a small office-supply store, so I’ll have to take your word on that.”

Miguel smiled. “You’re making jokes. Guess you’re feeling better.”

“Oh, yeah. Now that I’m with you guys, I’m feeling a whole lot better.”

Miguel used the field phone to call for helicopter backup.

“I expect to have most of the passengers here with me soon, but at least two are still out there. Cameron Sumner and Emma Caldridge.”

“Mission’s over. We’ve already dispatched two copters to extract you. We’ll load up and that’s it,” a soldier with the Southern Command, and Miguel’s liaison, said.

“Banner said I had twenty-four hours. These two managed to free the passengers, and they’re close. They deserve to be rescued.”

“I don’t think you understand what’s happening. The cartels and the guerrillas are blanketing your area. Our helos have been fired on twice already. Frankly, they’re going to set down fast, load up, and get the hell out of there. I suggest that you do the same.”

“And the two?”

“The Colombian special forces are on their way.”

“Are these the good ones, or the bad ones?” Miguel didn’t bother to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

“I hear your frustration, Major, but there isn’t much we can do. The army has been ordered out of Colombia. We’re not wanted here.”

“I want to talk to Banner. He’s in charge of this operation.”

“His jurisdiction extends only as long as the Department of Defense wants it to.”

“Has the DOD pulled the plug?” Miguel said.

There was a short silence. Then the phone crackled. “Not yet, but we expect it to very soon. They’ve been negotiating with the pipeline executives. Apparently the executives believe that they will be summarily executed by the guerrillas once the special ops guys are pulled off the detail. The DOD agreed to evacuate them first out of the pipeline area.”

“I need to speak to Banner.”

“He’s not available.”

“Then get Carol Stromeyer from Darkview on the phone and call me back when you have her.”

Miguel snapped the phone shut.

He turned to look at the passengers huddled together on the path. Kohl stood next to Boris, patting him on the head. Miguel waved him over.

“We leaving without her, sir?” Kohl said.

“Washington pulled the plug on Colombian aid, and Colombia pulled the plug on our mission. Helos are on the way to pick us up. I want you to load everyone on and stay with them until they are out of this godforsaken country.”

“What about you?” Kohl said.

“I’m waiting for a call from a very important woman.”

Kohl stared at him for a moment. “If you stay, I stay.”

Miguel shook his head. “You can’t stay. It would be in defiance of a direct order from Southcom.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” Kohl said.

“I’m falling back on a technicality. I’m operating under different orders issued by Edward Banner under a joint operation between the DOD and his private security company.”

“I don’t see how that changes anything,” Kohl said.

“I haven’t been ordered out by Banner yet.” At least that’s what Miguel would argue if and when he would be dragged in front of the powers that be. He was pretty sure Banner would cover his ass.

“I’m not leaving,” Kohl said.

Miguel sighed. “Don’t get stubborn on me. I’m old enough to get out without much flak. You’re too young to mess up your career.”

“I’m not leaving until we find Ms. Caldridge, sir!” Kohl snapped to attention and stared forward.

The phone rang, sparing Miguel from having to respond.

“Let me guess, you want to stay until the party’s over.” Carol Stromeyer’s voice poured out from the field phone.

“Yes, ma’am, I do,” Miguel said.

“Don’t you ma’am me.”

Miguel grinned at the phone. “Banner led me to believe that I have some more time. Do I?”

“Hold on a sec.” There was a clicking noise in the background as Stromeyer typed on her keyboard.

“Technically, the order to suspend your rescue operation has not come down.”

“Excellent,” Miguel said.

“But I can’t assure you of any further support from Southcom once those extraction helos leave. That’s the bad news.”

“What’s the good news?”

Miguel heard some more clicking noises from Stromeyer’s keyboard. “Under a general order issued to Darkview as an authorized contractor, Banner has the authority to man and run a covert operation and two helicopters into any listed hot area in cases of an emergency.”

“Is Colombia listed as a hot area?”

“It is.”

“Great! Can you send them in to get me in, say, twenty hours?”

“The bad news—”

“Wait, you already gave me the bad news.”

“The other bad news is that the helicopters can be manned only by Darkview personnel. No regular army.”

“Just a private company running a private operation, huh?”