Chapter Ten
Chip caught up with Vic Francesco, following the agent through the tropical forest. It was rough going without a trail, but necessary to provide a tactical advantage over Harry and Lee's captors. He wasn't an ONI spy, but he'd done enough ONI-conscripted work to know what he was doing. Francesco, for his part, seemed to have a rather good idea of the layout of the land, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. He still wasn't sure if the man could be trusted. Suddenly, Francesco stopped and dropped to a crouch.
"Smell that?" Francesco answered with a tilt of the head. "They're just ahead," he whispered.
Chip nodded, acknowledging the faint smell of what he perceived to be a dying campfire, although the scent wasn't quite right.
"Are your men in place?"
Chip fiddled with his portable radio, a communication device small enough to fit inside a shirt pocket. Set on silent-hail, a flashing green light announced the call, followed by a subdued whisper.
"Sharkey here."
"Morton here. Are you in place, Chief?"
"The camp clearing is just ahead. We're holding our position just shy of it."
"Acknowledged; hold until further orders," he replied, turning his attention back to Francesco. "They're set. I'd have them fan out, but as good as they are, three men rustling through this dense forest…"
"No, you're right," Vic agreed. "You're pretty handy out here, Commander," he commented in regards to Chip's skills thus far. "You move into position from here, I'll circle around and we can coordinate an attack in say… five minutes."
Chip pursed his lips; the moment of truth had arrived. Did he trust this man enough to allow him to operate on his own? So far on this rescue mission, he had yielded several times to the spy's obvious skills. It had been Francesco's tracking ability that had steered the rescue detail in the right direction in the first place, but he simply had nothing to go on to know whether to trust his intentions.
Chip's hesitation was noticeable and the momentary silence palpable.
"You still don't trust me?" Francesco stated more than asked.
"I still haven't decided," Chip countered solemnly, but any further discussion was made moot by the gunshot that unexpectedly reverberated throughout the air. "Move in!" he urged Sharkey on the radio before heading toward the camp, following behind Francesco who hadn't waited for the order.
# # # # #
"I see you managed to burn down the cell," Fenton noted dryly, with a nod toward the smoldering heap where the bamboo and palm leaf cell once stood. "No matter," he continued, "It changes nothing. All it means is that Nelson here will get a close-up view of your… reparation," he informed, lording over his prisoner, though Lee offered no hint of fear.
"Blast it, Fenton!" Harry interjected. "This isn't war, and there are no reparations to be paid."
"That's where you're wrong, Nelson!" he said, tugging Harry up from his sitting position with Baxter's help, while Lee was kept in place at gunpoint by Travis. "You declared war on the Fenton family when you double-crossed my brother in that warehouse."
"Your brother was acting as a double-agent, extorting intelligence that threatened world peace,"
Harry challenged.
"My brother was a believer in a Cause!"
"A Cause that seeks world domination, and threatens freedom everywhere!" Harry shot back.
"You can lecture me about my brother's morals when you betrayed your country for the safety of one person?" Randall Fenton accused. "You weighed the balance of world peace on the scales with your sister's life on the other side and willingly gave up the entire network! Yes! I know the whole story," he added, breathing hard for the excess of strong emotions spewing out of him.
Harry swallowed hard, showing the right amount of remorse for the scenario Fenton just described. It was apparent that General Fenton's brother had been briefed by the same enemy forces that had worked so hard to obtain the silo locations in the first place. Immediately he realized that his mission of three months ago was at stake. No matter what, he needed to protect the story that the enemy had accurate missile locations; otherwise, all that they had worked for would have been for nothing; including the unfortunate deaths of General Hamid and a Seaview crewman who had accompanied them on the raid.
Harry shot a regretful eye toward Lee as if a terrible secret had been revealed, and hoped that Seaview's Captain was ready to play his part convincingly. Fortunately, the operative in Lee caught on handily to what needed to be done, producing an academy award winning look of utter disappointment in his mentor and friend.
"Admiral?" he questioned feigning devastation at the revelation.
"I'm… sorry, Lee," Harry replied locking eyes, but Lee looked away, ashamed by the admiral's actions.
"So, Crane here never knew the whole story," Fenton gloated, clearly pleased that he would destroy Nelson in every way possible, especially in the eyes of his "son".
"It doesn't matter what he knew!" Travis jumped in. "Crane was at the warehouse; he was complicit in my father's death in order to cover up Nelson's crimes. That makes him as guilty as Nelson!"
Harry concealed his relief that Operation Traitor/Patriot was still safe. The enemy had analyzed the situation and had come away with two important conclusions; that they did indeed have the true locations of the missiles, and that Harry had blown up the warehouse and killed all the witnesses to hide the fact that he had betrayed his country.
Randall Fenton nodded in agreement. "He's right, Nelson. The Fenton honor demands blood for blood," he stated rather calmly. "Your blood will come soon enough," he explained. "But not until you've had time to relive every detail of what happens to Crane today!"
He kept his gun trained on Harry's middle and motioned for the guard to help Travis, where the two pulled Lee into a stand and maneuvered him to a post, placed predominantly in front of what was left of the smoldering cell. Lee wasn't exactly helpful when they secured him to the post, but with Fenton's deadly aim on Harry, he offered no real resistance. He knew what was coming, but the longer he held out, the longer Harry lived. It was as simple as that.
Travis secured the final bond and then manhandled Lee's jaw to show his dominance. "I'm going to make you pay, Crane," he spat out hatefully.
"Untie me and let's see how that goes," he challenged defiantly, which ended with his gut receiving a solid fisted blow.
"Let's see how smart that mouth of yours is when I'm finished with you," Travis replied, stepping away to ready his gear.
Lee breathed shallowly, his bonds preventing him from doubling over. The blow wasn't unexpected, but damn if it didn't take his breath away. His jab hadn't been steeped in stupidity by ticking off his would-be tormentor, nor was it testosterone filled machoism. It was all part of the mind game that sometimes worked to his benefit when an opponent became so enraged that he made mistakes; mistakes he could capitalize on. However, this time he wasn't sure it was the wisest move as he noted the package Travis was unwrapping on top of a wooden crate; a set of knives in different sizes and shapes.
"Now the fun begins," Randall Fenton declared, his statement void of any semblance of humanity a sane person might harbor.
Lee locked eyes with Harry and twitched a small half-smile that disappeared immediately, meant to convey to the Admiral that it wasn't his fault, but the intensity in Harry's eyes told him he hadn't been successful.
"This is madness, Fenton," Harry pleaded, hoping to stop the carnage before it began and not unwilling to humble himself in a desperate plea.
Fenton ignored Nelson's outburst and walked toward his nephew, placing an approving hand on his shoulder as he arranged the knives then turned to stop in front of Lee.
"It was most unfortunate that you burned down the cell, Captain Crane. Now before we can begin, we're going to have to take some of Nelson's fight away."
Lee was taken completely by surprise as Fenton turned and aimed at Harry's heart. "No!" he cried out as Fenton laughed, obtaining the response he was looking for as Harry stood firm, staring down the barrel from about ten paces. Suddenly, Fenton changed his aim and fired, discharging a bullet into the admiral's thigh. Immediately, he fell to the ground curling in pain and unable to grab his newly wounded leg with his hands tied behind his back.
"Admiral!" Lee called in shock at the unexpected turn of events. He had thought he figured Fenton out, that Harry would be safe as long as he held out; but the madman had turned everything upside down.
"Just remember, Crane," he delivered darkly nearly nose to nose, "you did this when you burned down the cell!" He stepped back and seemed to emotionally regroup before turning to his nephew. "Now, my boy, it's your turn," he said without a hint of remorse as Travis Fenton selected his knife.
"No Fenton!" Harry breathed out, watching from the ground, physically restrained and unable to do anything but watch the horrific acts of a madman and his kin, both bent on vengeance and both lacking decent humanity to question their actions.
# # # # #
Travis moved in front of Lee and licked his lips. In his hand, he held a foreboding, dangerous knife glinting in the afternoon sun and grasped in a white-knuckled grip. In his eyes was the same lost look he'd shown earlier when he was hog-tied and terrified for his life. Lee was sure that for all his bravado, he wasn't up for the dastardly deed of torturing a fellow human being. Perhaps, there was still enough of a decent boy left to talk to, one that hadn't been completely corrupted by an uncle that refused to acknowledge his own brother's crimes.
"You don't have to do this," Lee counseled calmly, trying to reach the young man before he took a step that would change his life forever.
"Get on with it, Travis," Randall urged emotionless while sitting on a crate and folding his arms.
Travis gripped the knife even harder as it shook unwittingly in his hand, all the while working up the nerve to make the first strike against his victim's flesh.
"Travis!" Harry called from his pained position on the ground. "No matter what you think I've done, once you start down this road, you'll be paying for it for the rest of your life. Can you live with that?"
"Shut up!" the older Fenton shouted, making his way over to Nelson and issuing a devastating kick to his bleeding leg.
"Admiral!" Lee yelled, looking past Travis and his knife to the Admiral, breathing hard and moaning from the cruelty inflicted upon him.
"He killed your father, boy!" Randall Fenton bellowed as he made to his way toward his nephew. "We talked about this. If you want to hurt Nelson, this is how."
Travis' eyes danced back and forth as if mentally bouncing between two decisions. Suddenly, his eyes focused and locked on his victim. They were darkened with the resolve of his decision as he raised the knife for a plunge. All the sounds around him faded into distorted whispers. In the background he vaguely heard Nelson call his name; even his uncle's voice was somewhat muted. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he committed wholeheartedly to his next act. All the planning to get to this point and all the words of hate his uncle had poured into him suddenly welled up uncontrollably. His hatred for Nelson's part in his father's death, and blind loyalty to his uncle combined with the humiliation Crane had inflicted, creating a wild rage that couldn't be tamed. Without warning, he changed the game plan of a slow torture and aimed for a kill-shot into Crane's heart. His mind was set; his path determined, and his heart hardened. Screaming like a madman, he began the downward thrust fully committed to the attack. It was if all the sounds around him came rushing in all at once when crimson blood splattered on his shirt. He took a step back and looked down, sickened by the sight as Crane pleaded with him, but he was driven by a warped sense of family honor that transcended any hope of human decency at this point; and like a rabid animal he raised the knife again.
# # # # #
Chip moved into position next to Francesco who was crouched low and scanning the camp.
"Hold your position," he ordered into the radio in a whisper as he moved in beside Francesco. The gunshot they heard a moment earlier had hastened their approach, but now that they had a found the camp, they realized that the situation had stabilized enough to properly assess the danger.
"Three gunmen, the tall one is the leader," the agent explained, "Admiral Nelson has been shot, leg wound; Crane's been immobilized."
Chip scrutinized the leader, his eyes narrowing in vague recognition. "The leader looks familiar. What's that one doing?" he asked rhetorically, watching the youngest of the three kidnappers fiddling with something on a crate.
"Now my boy, it's your turn," the tall older man declared in the background as they surveyed the scene, taking their emotions out of the equation.
"We'll need to coordinate the attack," Francesco stated, watching as the younger man picked something up and stepped up to stand directly in front of Crane.
"He's got a knife," Chip informed, reaching for his radio. "Chief…"
"Wait," Francesco interrupted. "If we rush them without a plan then Nelson and Crane are both dead."
The sounds of Harry's pleas for Lee's life were playing in the background, but Chip had to disconnect in order to determine the best course of action.
"Then we all pick a target," Chip decided.
"Agreed," Francesco replied.
Chip raised the radio. "Chief, do you have targets in sight?"
"Aye Sir, we have a clear shot of the tall one and the big guy in black. The one with the knife is too close to the Skipper from our vantage," he answered.
"I've got the kid," Francesco whispered to Chip's acknowledging nod.
"We'll cover the one closest to the Skipper. On my count…"
Suddenly the situation escalated as the tall man yelled, then unexpectedly advanced upon the Admiral, viciously kicking his wounded leg.
"Hold your position, Chief," Chip urged attempting to organize a successful surprise attack and not fail because their emotions were driving their actions.
Francesco ignored the heightened situation and determinedly assumed a position to shoot, taking aim and waiting for Chip's order to coordinate the attack.
"You can't make the shot from here," Chip asserted, taking exception that his vantage wasn't good enough to clear Lee.
"I can make this, Commander."
At that moment, the decision was made for them as the young abductor suddenly re-positioned the knife directly over Lee's heart.
"He's going to cut the Skipper!" Sharkey exclaimed.
"Move in!" Chip ordered, just as a blood-curdling scream filled the air.