“Here’s one of them, General,” said a corporal, and pointed to the corpse of the skinny national guardsman on deck, he had to hold his nose to stop himself gagging.
“Any sign of the other one?” General Malloy asked.
A private came up from below decks, “All clear, no one down below, General.”
“How come they’d removed their hazmat suits. A look passed between the lower ranks. The General noticed and signaled with his fingers. “Out with it.”
The major appeared bashful. “Well, I don’t know quite how to explain this, but, erm, we’ve been getting reports of the soldiers getting, erm, frisky, shall we say, and may have, erm, interfered with the civilians.”
“Word is they think of it as a perk of the job,” said the corporal helpfully.
“A ‘perk’?” General Malloy said looking heavenward. “Are they trying to re-populate Florida single-handedly?”
The major tried to silence the corporal, when something caught his eye, he turned and saw what he thought looked like an arm. A half digested arm. “I think that’s what’s left of his companion.”
General Malloy took in the scene and his lips tightened into a grimace before he spoke, “It’s them. I know it.”
“Who, sir?” the major asked.
“The terrorists,” said the General taking in the major’s baffled look. “Who else could overcome two armed soldiers?”
“There’s blood up here, sir,” said the corporal. “Not from the corpse, I mean. I think one of them is injured, quite badly.”
General Malloy allowed himself a smile, he sniffed the air and the hunt was on.
“Pentagon,” said the signalman, passing over the radio handset to him.
“General Malloy,” he said and found himself talking to Colonel Simpson, “Evening Homer, what can I do for you?”
“You’re to evacuate immediately. Transport is ready. We’re sending a Blackhawk to fetch you, right now.”
“What about my men?” he asked quietly, not wishing to alarm them. He assumed they would not be included in the airlift and would be left in Florida to fend for themselves.
“Frankly Jack, we do not have the time or the resources, we’re starting with key personnel and working downwards. We have your co-ordinates, and the chopper will land on the nearest bridge.”
The General saw the broken foliage nearby and could detect the route the terrorists had taken. “Affirmative. But I have some personal business to clear up here first.” He glanced at the path his quarry had taken and his nostrils flared as if he could smell them.
“Don’t hang around, General. We need you evacuated within the hour, please confirm?”
“Acknowledged, over and out,” he said cutting off the colonel before any further protest. He turned to the major. “A chopper should be arriving for me shortly. It’ll land on the bridge. Take the men and guard it with your lives.”
Yes, sir,” replied the major automatically. “Where will you be?”
He nodded into the jungle-like forest. “I’ve got a little matter to attend to first.”
“You’re going to go after the terrorists?”
“You betcha!”
“Why you? Shouldn’t we send the men?”
“It’s personal, son.” He eyeballed the major, who knew when to stop arguing. “Look at the trail they’ve left. They’ve not attempted to cover their path. A child could find them.”
“Good luck, sir,” the major saluted and signaled for his men to follow him.
Luck, thought the general, I don’t need luck. He pushed into the forest, following the trail of broken branches. “Man, I love this shit!” He picked up his pace into a fast trot.
23:34 PM
Luke slowly awoke and stretched. He’d shut his eyes and rested for a moment while Sophie attended to his leg, and had immediately fallen into a deep sleep. Sophie who was equally fatigued joined him moments later.
Sophie rested against his chest then stirred. “How long have we been asleep?” she asked groggily, still dozy.
“Thirty minutes.”
“We’ve got to go,” she said in alarm.
“I gotta take a whiz first,” he stood, hopped on one leg over to his improvised crutch and tested his weight. Moonlight streamed through the slats of the wooden boathouse and water gently lapped against the airboats, which in turn bumped against the tires protecting the crafts from damaging themselves against the water’s edge.
Sophie sat up, stretched, smiled and gazed at Luke’s battered face in the moonlight. He had dried scabs and bruises from fighting the soldiers earlier, his torso equally damaged. He would be sore and ache for a while, but would heal with time. Unlike his leg, as her temporary repair would only do for the moment. She would need breaking again and re-setting properly, or Luke would have a limp for life.
She hadn’t told him that good news yet. She finally let herself plan a future together for them. Everything was going to be wonderful and they would live a long and happy life together, and the last few days would eventually fade into a distant memory. They would live their lives to the maximum; they owed it to themselves and to those that made the ultimate sacrifice for them. Their work would have to have meaning, a purpose, for the betterment of mankind, be it a humanitarian action aboard, or feeding the needy back home, anything rather than the desperate search for more wealth and the accumulation of consumer products. She smiled as Luke wobbled, she shone her flashlight to illuminate his journey and tallied his injuries, all the scars and bruises until he turned fully and she saw his back and the first of the buboes…
CHAPTER 46
23:35 PM
General Malloy smashed his way through the foliage and had their scent in his nostrils he would show ‘em. Sloppy, he thought, he despised them even more for making their escape route too easy to follow. Tracking in the jungle had been his specialty. He seemed to have the knack, to know how the opposing forces thought, where they would go, where they might hide. None had ever bested him and that wasn’t about to change for this pair who had ruined Florida and embarrassed his country. He wondered if they were prepared to die for their mission. He was soon going to find out. Would they die a martyr’s death, proud to give their lives for what they believed in, or would they snivel and beg like wretches? He'd show them all how to deal with terrorists, he’d hunt ‘em down and shoot ‘em like the dogs they were. He felt like yelling with the thrill of the chase and the expectation of the kill.
He hadn’t felt this good since his fighting days in Bolivia, before he became a career soldier. This is where he felt best, in the heat of battle, where he felt truly alive.
23:36 PM
Luke hobbled back through the door, holding his crotch. “Man my balls hurt and I’ve got this swelling…,” He pointed at his crutch; he looked up at Sophie and knew instantly by her horror-stricken face what it meant. “…Oh no…”
She ran to him and hugged him for all she was worth, he tried to untangle himself from her, worried that he might give her the infection. “Shush, it does not matter,” she said soothingly. “If you have it, then so must I.” She became aware of the sound of a helicopter and froze. They peeked from the door and saw a chopper preparing to land not too far away. “That must be near the barge,” she said.
“They’re on to us, let’s go.”
23:37 PM
“Gotcha!” General Malloy said, seeing the wooden boathouse and the flashlight beams showing through the slats of the structure. He stealthily approached the building, deciding which way to kill them. Shoot them? No, far too quick. Maybe slowly with his ka-bar knife, up close and personal, he wanted to watch the pain in their eyes while he drew out their deaths. That would be his personal favorite and the least this pair of bastards deserved. However, as he had less than twenty minutes to get back to the chopper he had better make it quick.