CHAPTER 9
"Let's go," he told the others, waking them from their sleep.
"Where?" one asked. "There is nowhere to go."
"Suit yourselves, but I'm not sticking around anymore."
"Wait. I want out, I just don't know how in the world you plan on escaping this nightmare. None of us have succeeded yet, and if you do get out, it isn't ever long before they find you."
"I've got a plan…"
\A/
"He's going to kill me! All because of some lousy food. My name is Stringfellow Hawke. It's not my fault they won't believe me!" Hawke shouted, struggling with the other five men.
"Quiet over there," the guard warned.
'The men continued, the argument growing more heated by the moment.
"Shut up," he growled.
"You shut up!" one of the prisoners shot back.
"You listen to me," the guard ordered, "you will not tell me tell me to shut up and you will be quiet and settle down or I'll make sure all of you are dead before sun up."
Leaving the fight Hawke was already obviously loosing, the irritated prisoner came to the outermost point of the cage right up against the sturdy bamboo railing.
Coming forward to meet him face to face, the Vietnamese guard stared back at him with deep, dark, and menacing eyes.
"You'll never be able to get out on your own so stop trying to trick me into letting you out or moving you. It'll never work."
"It doesn't have to," the captive retorted, quickly reaching through the bars and grabbing the guard's knife. He plunged it into his captor's stomach then pulled it out again as the man fell lifelessly to the ground, "we'll take care of it ourselves."
\A/
Taking a seat in the pilot's chair, Dom pressed the button labeled start one and waited for the rotors to gain the necessary speed for liftoff. All systems were in the green and soon he was ready for takeoff, lifting straight up and out of the clearing and heading for the POW camp.
\A/
At last, they had sawed through the last bit of rope binding the bamboo rails together and it fell harmlessly to the ground, allowing the prisoners enough room to squeeze out.
"Good job guys, but now we have to hurry. The sun is rising and if it rises before we're out…"
"Things don't look good," Hawke finished.
"Right."
"No, I mean things don't look good right now."
They had hardly gotten free from their first obstacle and already more were presenting themselves. Men, at least twenty of them, armed with a variety of different weapons ranging from machine guns to their newest addition, Hawke's Colt, that had mostly been taking from prisoners they'd had over the years, had nearly surrounded them.
The six escapees backed up, each covering another's back as the guards closed in around them.
"What makes you think you can just get up and walk away?" the leader sneered.
"We got this far didn't we?" a major said.
"I can tell you this, I'm not planning on sticking around here and longer, so I'm getting out one way or another," Hawke rejoined in response.
"The only way you'll be getting out , Hawke, is perhaps a body bag, if you're that lucky," the guard replied cockily.
"Nah. I don't think you'd even provide me the body bag unless you planned to bury me alive in it."
"What a brilliant idea. That one hasn't been done in a while. Maybe you would like to-"
His sentence was interrupted by the breath being knocked out of him from Hawke's powerful blow.
The following several minutes were chaotic, shots ricocheting off trees and bullets burying themselves into the ground, men exchanging blows, and weapons being stolen from each other in a sole effort to stay alive.
Hawke landed on the ground hard, trying to catch his breath before the Asian man was after him again. Rogers, one of the POW's, snatched the AK-47 right out of the guard's hands and shot Hawke's attacked with it before he even had the time to realize it was missing. Hawke breathed a quick thanks before going to cover another guy's six who was about to end up weaponless and probably knocked out if not dead. One hard blow and that guard too went down, leaving only one Vietnamese guard to try fending himself from the eager to escape band of soldiers. Dropping his weapon out of shear terror, he threw up his hands and ran, disappearing into the jungle vegetation.
"Man, that was one helluva fight."
"Yeah, now let's get out of here."
Bruised and battered as they may have been, not a single one of them complained as they jogged uphill for the next two miles, a sense of victory and pride washed over each of them. Together they had overpowered their captor, and together they would go home.
Hawke took a quick glance behind him at the motley crew and felt a deep sense of accomplishment. He hadn't found Saint John yet, and yes he would keep looking of course, but together they had done well. Five more men would be free to rejoin society and live the freedom they fought so hard to keep, freedom they had earned.
Airwolf soared overhead with a challenging howl then let loose half the arsenal on the little prison village they had just escaped, almost like their own personal fireworks show, praising them for their bravery and courage, for continuing to hang on despite the odds.
Reaching the Huey, Hawke checked in with Dom, and requested he contact Archangel to arrange a flight back for them.
"No problem," Dominic promised. "Where should the Lady and I pick you up?"
"If you don't mind, you can take the Lady home. I'd like to come home with the rest of the crew."
