Nightwatch

Chapter 54

Vince pounded the bars in frustration, and Andrew Chapman grabbed his bruised fist and kept him from inflicting further punishment upon himself.

“Easy does it, Kellogg. Since it’s apparent that you’ll never smash your way through those bars, chill out, and quit blaming yourself for our predicament.”

“The more I think about it, the more it makes sense,” whispered Vince bitterly.

“Those bastards intentionally left that MRE in here so I’d have an opportunity to escape, and lead them right to you.”

The VP shook his head in disagreement.

“Look, Kellogg, it was my decision alone to reenter the hollow when we heard that claymore detonate, and whatever happens, that’s something I can live with.”

“But what about them?” said Vince, referring to their four cellmates, who were huddled on the floor behind them.

“That boy is gonna bleed to death unless we get him some medical attention, and I should never have allowed them back into the hollow after learning what kind of animals we were up against.”

At the rear of the cell. Junior was sprawled out on his back, fading in and out of consciousness. His father and sister were doing their best to attend to the tourniquet that Chapman had helped rig up. Tiny was nearby, his pride hurting more than his bruised skull.

It had been nearly an hour since one of their captors had checked on them. This was only a cursory visit, and the green faced commando refused their urgent request for water and medical supplies. It appeared that they had been abandoned altogether, and just as they were about to give up hope of ever getting any help, a pair of BDUclad men holding M16s and ammo-laden LBEs rushed past the detention cell.

“Hey, stop!” pleaded Vince.

“We need a first-aid kit!”

They disappeared into the cavern’s black recesses without so much as a flicker of recognition, and once again Vince pounded his fist into the iron bars.

“You know, it looks like some kind of alert is coming down,” remarked the VP.

“Perhaps our rescuers are on their way even as we speak.”

Vince greeted this hopeful comment with a pessimistic grunt, and he listened as Chapman added, “This Mariano character seems to be a bit of a psychopath. If he’s indicative of the type of individuals the leaders of this supposed coup are relying on, they don’t stand much of a chance.”

“A soldier like Mariano has his place, sir,” returned Vince.

“Every army needs its trained assassins, and as for Mariano’s psychopathic personality, it’s the nature of the beast. After all, we created and trained his type to fight a guerrilla war that we never intended to win. And now we have to learn to live with the consequences.”

“The latest diagnostic indicates that it definitely isn’t our equipment that’s at fault,” reported the technician, ever afraid that this news would generate yet another angry outburst from the bearded veteran anxiously pacing the floor of the Op Center behind him.

Dick Mariano accepted this revelation with a disappointed shake of his head, and there was an uncharacteristic timidity in his voice as he glanced at the overhead clock and calmly replied, “Then there’s nothing we can do but continue to wait for his call. Why don’t you try another digital page. Chief? I’m beginning to wonder if something bad hasn’t happened to the man, and I’m tempted to give ole spit-and-polish Warner a buzz to get the skinny.”

Mariano’s two-way activated with a burst of static, and he readjusted his cranial headset and spoke into the miniature chin mike.

“Mariano … I expected as much. Doc. Pass on a “Job well done’ to the boys, and get your keisters back to the inner perimeter.

I want you sealed up inside the compound in ten minutes’ time.

“Cause at midnight, all hell’s gonna rain from the sky, and those pussy-eating Sappers will be nothin’ but overdone barbecue.”