Wei watched in disgust as his ceremony was decimated. Angered, he switched on his microphone and called out to the people below. Everyone stopped and looked up to him as he began chanting in another tongue. It was obvious he was angry and he raised his staff above his head. He stood there chanting and watched as the people below began to kneel. Several bowed to the ground. Above them, Wei could feel his godly powers grow. The hair on his body began to rise and he knew that finally, his becoming a god had come to be. His skin tingled as he seemed to feel his new powers surge through him. As he raised his staff ever higher he made a loud call to bring his people together.
In a brilliant flash, the lightning bolt struck the metal staff and traveled through Wei to the metal floor of the obelisk. In an instant, his bones were fused together as the god of the sun burned almost as bright. The clap of thunder joined to cause nearly everyone to fall to the ground. Half the lights in the area went out. The remaining illuminated Wei. His headdress was on fire. He stood, frozen in place. His staff was still raised high into the air. The people below watched in fascination as the wind from the oncoming storm fanned the flames of his headdress. Everything stood still for a moment as the crowd below stared at the figure. Then, after another gust, his feet peeled away from the metal stand and his still stiff body fell to the ground like some marble statue, coming to a dull thud on the stone floor of the courtyard.
There was a scream from one of the buildings as a naked young blond girl ran to Wei’s remains and tried to scoop him into her arms.
With her screams, the spectators panicked and fled. Within a minute the village was empty. Chapman gathered his men to assess the situation. Ricks, with Patricia still in his arms, walked up.
“She’s in shock, Boss. I tried to put her down and she wouldn’t let go,” said Ricks.
Chapmen looked into her eyes. They were held in a vacant stare. The ordeal had nearly broken her, but she had attached to her rescuer and wouldn’t let go. Chapman touched her arm and she looked at him for a second. “Let’s get you home,” he said.
Sergeant Miller hopped down a set of stairs leading from the roof where he had taken his shot. He walked calmly over to a figure trying to crawl into a doorway. There was a trail of blood from where his shot struck home to the crumpled figure. Parente was desperately trying to crawl to safety, but his hands would not support any weight to allow him to stand. His headdress had fallen off and his cloak was dragging the ground behind him. Miller approached the gold encrusted figure.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.
Parente looked up at the man in disgust. The hatred in his eyes seemed to fill his sweaty face. “Do not touch me, you dog. You should be bowing before me,” he exclaimed.
A smile appeared on Miller’s face. He calmly reached down and grabbed the back of the collar on the cloak, flipping Parente over backwards. There was a yelp of pain as Parente tried to use his hands break his fall. Miller placed his boot on Parente’s chest and pointed his pistol between his eyes.
“I already put one hole in you. Want to try for two?” he asked.
Parente’s face changed slightly as the realization that this man would happily end his life. He didn’t say a word.
Captain Chapman walked over. “Any trouble?”
Miller chuckled. “Just the trouble I’m having to keep from pulling this trigger. Where do you want him?” he asked.
Motioning over towards the back of the compound, Chapman said, “Put him in his limousine. We’ll give him one last ride.”
The team quickly gathered their equipment and policed their shells. One of the men tried to get the young girl to come with them, but she refused. She was still cradling Wei in her arms as they drove away from the compound.
Messina was having a tough time dodging lightning flashes while skirting the mountains. Yet it wasn’t long before he saw the familiar lighted shack. There was a large aircraft on the runway. He skirted the area and settled on the circular pad at the end. Shutting down the engines, he found the aircraft surrounded by armed men. In desperation, he looked at Rojas. “I tried my best,” he said.
The cabin door opened and one of the soldiers pulled them out of the aircraft. “Who are you,” one asked in the darkness.
Messina straightened up. “I am Colonel Curt Messina and this is Colonel Juan Rojas. Who are you?”
Amazingly, the men around the helicopter lowered their weapons. “We’ve been expecting you, Colonel. Is this your family?”
“Yes,” he said almost dumbstruck.
The soldiers helped his family from the aircraft and ushered all of them to the back of the aircraft as a large truck pulled up and around the road and onto the airstrip property. A man leaned out of the passenger side and called out, “We need some help here!”
One by one, from the back of the truck the hostages were helped down to the ground. In the light from the small office, the Marines escorted them into the back of the aircraft. Lieutenant Mason was stopped by someone in the dark. “Where are the rest?” the man asked.
“One was taken to another compound up the hill. They went to get her,” he said.
Two vehicles rapidly made their way down the hill and along the road leading to the airstrip. The lead car was the Presidential limousine followed by a small van. As they neared the bottom of the hill a small patrol blocked the way, but seeing the presidential limo, they stood back and saluted. Inside, Ricks sat between Patricia and Parente. The man’s hands had been wrapped by one of the team members using part of Wei’s garment. The blood still oozed from the bandages.
Ricks looked over at the man. “Still hurt?” he asked.
Parente glared at him. “You wouldn’t dare kidnap the leader of a nation,” he said angrily.
“Just watch,” said Chapman from the front seat. He turned to the driver. “We going to make it?”
“Not by 2130. We passed that time long ago,” he said as he swerved the car around the curve in the road.
Chapman looked back at Ricks. “We may have lost our ride,” he said.
Ricks grinned. “Have a little faith, Captain,” he said.
Ten minutes later, the two vehicles turned up the road leading to the airstrip. They could see a light from a small building. Swerving around the last turn, the men felt a relief to see the shadow of a huge plane waiting for them in the runway. They pulled the car all the way to the ramp on the back of the plane. Flinging the doors open on the vehicles, the passengers quickly ran up the ramp as the engines began to start. Before the ramp could get a foot off the ground, Rojas darted out of the plane and to the limousine. After only a second, he ran back with something in his hand.
The ramp slowly began to rise and the rear of the plane finally closed. Inside the plane the lights came on. Ricks was still helping Patricia to her seat when she saw someone dressed in white standing in front of her. She began to cry.
Vice Admiral Roger Hammond swept his wife into his arms and held her closely. The strain of the past two weeks seemed to melt away as he held her. “You knew I’d come for you,” he said.
She kissed him hard on the lips and exclaimed, “Never a doubt.” Then the stress caught up with her and she nearly collapsed to the ground. “Doc!” Hammond called out.
Doc Dickerson led them to the small medical bay in the aircraft where he started his examination. “Leave her with me, Admiral. I’ll get her right,” he said with a smile.
“Doc, she’s carrying our child,” Hammond told him.
Dickerson winked and shut the door.
A crewman came aft and addressed the Admiral. “Sir, there’s a helicopter blocking our way.”