“Like fuckin’ shit you can’t” Ortiz snapped back. “You’re comin’ with us.”
“And who’s gonna keep… those bastards pinned down? Who? Now you… two leave me your… weapons and get the hell outta here… before we all buy it. Move it, Tito. That’s… an order.”
A few men started to move toward them. Cameron leveled the MP5 and blasted a few more rounds. As one man went down, the others jumped behind trees. They were less than forty feet away and slowly closing in.
“What are you… waiting for, Sergeant Ortiz? I gave a fucking direct order. Move out and take… Private Zimmer with you. Now, dammit. NOW!”
Ortiz was obviously stunned as he and Zimmer slowly stepped back.
For one brief moment Ortiz and Cameron stared into each other’s eyes. There were tears in the young Hispanic’s eyes. “God bless you, hermano!” They raced for the clearing almost two hundred feet away.
Cameron was alone again. The tables had suddenly been turned. It’s payback time, Cameron reflected, knowing that destiny had finally caught up with him for what he had done in the jungles of Vietnam. A life with Marie was not meant to be. That was his penance.
He shifted his gaze toward the trees and fired several rounds at two approaching figures. He missed and fired again, missing again. His vision was going quickly.
As the helicopter’s noise grew louder, gunfire broke out. More figures approached. Cameron tried to fire back but nothing came out. The magazine was empty. Cameron removed it and jammed the last one in while chips of wood and bark flew in all directions as the enemy’s rounds pounded the fallen log. He cocked the weapon, brought it up, and fired a ten-second burst across his field of view. Five men went down. The rest disappeared behind trees less than thirty feet away.
Cameron continued to blink to readjust his vision, but it was getting to be a futile exercise. He began to feel cold. His hands trembled as he threw the empty MP5 to the side and grabbed Ortiz’s Colt. Again, he leveled it at the forest but saw or heard no one, just the helicopter noise.
He then spotted three, no four, men at ten o’clock. Cameron moved the weapon in that direction as muzzle flashes broke out. Wood exploded in front of his eyes, blinding him. He fell to the side, but managed to control the overwhelming desire to bring both hands to his bleeding face. Instead, he kept his hands firmly on the Colt, brought the weapon back over the log, and fired blindly. Cameron felt the powerful recoil reverberating through his body as he continued to unload all he had left on the invisible figures.
The Colt ran dry. He threw it over the log and wiped away the blood, regaining partial vision from his left eye. The soldiers were there, dark, impersonal figures less than twenty feet away. Weapons leveled at him for a brief moment before the entire side of the forest came alive with muzzle flashes. Cameron dropped to the ground and reached for Zimmer’s Colt.
He tried to roll, but his body was overcome by shivering cold. His mind began to wander. He forced himself to focus on the situation and tried to bring the Colt up, but couldn’t do it.
His ears registered the roar of Stallion One’s main rotor as it began to leave the ground. He had done it. He had kept the enemy back… a figure emerged over the log, then there were two. Cameron fired a short burst. Both figures arched back but were quickly replaced by three other, who trained their weapons on him. He was about to fire again when two loud blasts were instantly followed by a harrowing pain in his left shoulder and right forearm that nearly numbed his senses. He stared at four figures looking down at him. There was no more gunfire, just the trembling thunder from the helicopter. It seemed to get closer and closer. Cameron struggled to see the faces of the figures standing over him. He wanted to look at his executioners. Just four faceless strangers. He was temporarily confused. The rotor noise rang in his ears as a powerful windblast pinned him down on the ground.
Gunfire erupted once more. From above. The figures arched back. The noise was deafening. He tried to bring his hands to his ears but couldn’t. He was too weak. Too cold. He was passing out. Then through the explosions Cameron heard a voice. A familiar voice.
“Lower, lower! There! I see him! A little to the right. Puta! No, no! The right, the right! Yeah, that’s it. Now a little lower. There, hold it! Hold it!”
Cameron saw another faceless figure appear in front of him. This one leaned over and pulled him up. Why? Why bother? Can you see that I’m dying? Cameron tried to fight him but again his muscles gave.
“Easy, hermano! It’s me, Tito!” Ortiz screamed over the gunfire. “You didn’t actually think we were gonna leave you, did you?”
Cameron tried to say something, but not even his lips would respond. He wanted to say that he didn’t care anymore. That it didn’t matter. That he just wanted to be left in peace, alone, to atone for past sins. It was his destiny. But instead he felt Ortiz’s arms pulling him up. The young sergeant was hooking his near-limp body to the rescue cable.
“All right. Up, up! Get him up there!”
Cameron felt his feet leave the ground. He was floating. It was beyond his control. Then the pain began to subside. The throbbing from his leg faded away. The burning pain from his shoulder and left forearm slowly disappeared as a blinding light utterly smothered him. It was everywhere. He felt confused. He wasn’t cold any longer. The light gave him warmth. Cameron was alone but somehow did not feel alone. There were others there. He could feel their presence. He finally began to understand what had happened to him the moment a figure emerged through the dazzling light. The figures came closer. Ortiz smiled down on him.
“You’re gonna make it, amigo. You’re gonna be all right.”
Cameron smiled thinly as his vision partially returned. He stared at someone holding an IV bag over him, and with it life slowly began to seep back into his broken body.
It was over. All seven surviving members were there. They had made it against staggering odds. A deep sense of satisfaction fell over him as he braced himself and inhaled deeply through his mouth. The old familiar guilt had been washed away by a sense of accomplishment, a sense of fulfillment. The pain of Skergan’s death was still there, but he had proven to himself that he was not a coward, that he could give his own life for a fellow soldier. His eyes filled with a mix of joy and physical pain.
The skies were clear. Radiant beams flickered through the rotating blades as the bright blue sky met an equally pure blue ocean. A flock of flamingos gracefully broke into flight as the massive ship blasted over the sandy beach. Cameron watched it through tears.
EPILOGUE
Pruett sat quietly as the President finished reading his report on the rescue mission. This was his first time alone with the President. The President put down the stapled sheets of paper and stared him in the eye across the desk. Pruett was not sure how the President would react. After all, Pruett had disobeyed a direct order from Carlton Stice.
“Well, Tom. It seems like I may have a small problem here. On one hand, I can see why you acted the way you did. You took one hell of a chance, I tell you, because if something had gone wrong with that unauthorized rescue mission…”
Pruett exhaled. “I know, Mr. President. I know I was taking a chance, but there were American lives involved, sir. I couldn’t just turn my head.”
“Like I said, you took a chance and this time it looks like you won. You brought our boys home, and for that I salute you, but I seriously encourage you not to do it again. It could prove to be… career-limiting.”
“I understand, sir.”