Chapter Eighteen: You Have Tomorrow If You Keep On Living
It had been a hard night's work, but long after midnight they finally had gotten the trucks loaded with the essentials, and the rest cached in hopes of returning to finish the job once the crisis was over. Now, they had to rest until there was enough light to see by. This section of the Desert of Death was filled with all sorts of rocks and sand dunes that could get a truck stuck or damaged if the driver couldn't see what was going on in front of him.
If only Dr. Cha was able to reach us before dark! But that afternoon had been filled with sunspot interference that killed satellite phone reception. It had been a miracle that Nyamo had called him trying to find out where Emori was. At least we have time to prepare.
Artyom swore to himself as he faced away from the embers of the recently extinguished fire and watched over the camp settling down. If he could have, he'd have left as soon as the trucks were loaded, but it was useless to wish for the impossible. For decades, he had tried to forget the two years he had spent conscripted in the former Soviet Union, most of that time spent in Afghanistan. Now, everybody was looking to him as the expert to keep them safe. Safe! When all they had was two Lee Enfield bolt action rifles and an old M-1 Garand Rifle with maybe twenty rounds of ammo for each, and they only had those to scare off predators. These are practically going to be worthless if it comes to a firefight, he thought.
And he couldn't even have a cigarette, because that would destroy the limited visibility he had in the dark.
The crunching of sand and rock told him someone was coming behind up him. "Is everything all right?" Keitaro's voice came softly out of the darkness.
"Da, come on up," he grunted. He looked at the faint illumination on his watch. 1:30 AM. "Will probably have light in four hours," he said as the younger man came up and sat next to him. "Best to get sleep until then."
"I wish I could," Keitaro said, gingerly holding the M-1. "But the thought that those maniacs could show up at any time, makes it hard. Do you think we'll get off all right?"
"I hope, yes. Based on the message we get, they have to drive through same govno we do to get here. Unfortunately, so does Nyamo's man. So, if they move at first light, we probably get away. If they try to drive at night, they may break something."
"And if they don't break something?"
Artyom grimaced in the dark. "Then we pray they are not barbarians. But try to get Makie and Nyamo out of here first. Desperate men lose discipline. They might not act like soldiers."
Keitaro blanched as he realized what Artyom was worried about. "Well, I'm glad we have your expertise as a soldier to rely on. I mean, you were a sergeant?"
Artyom let out a long sigh. "Keitaro, in Soviet Union, a sergeant was not like a sergeant in American movies. We were draftees too. Maybe in Russian army now, it changes. But we chosen because of how we did in training, and they give us Sergeant Training course. So we know only a little more than the privates. The officers had to do things American sergeants do. So, no. I am not like John Wayne or Rambo. I do not have guerrilla warfare skills to defeat them if they come shooting."
"Oh." Keitaro's voice sounded a little deflated. "Still, you know some things, which is more than the rest of us do. I just hope I don't do something stupid that gets somebody hurt or killed."
I think that about myself too, Keitaro. "As long as none of us do stupid risks, we probably do okay."
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It was about 0315 hours. The men would sleep for now. The officers and specialists wouldn't. Emori studied the map in his tent. This site the rebels were likely heading for was a hundred miles into the middle of the island, strewn with rocks and soft sand. It was a good way to get bogged down, get flat tires, or break axles. The good news was that the rebels were in the same situation. The bad news was they still had to catch up once the dawn came.
Halama entered the tent, yawning. As radioman, he'd be one of the specialists that needed to stay up as long as the captain did. "Sir," he mumbled, saluting belatedly. "Message from HQ." He handed the flimsy over to Emori.
BE ADVISED AIRCRAFT CANNOT FLY DURING NIGHT HOURS. WILL HAVE TWO F-4 AVAILABLE 0900. CH-47 WITH TWO PLATOONS ESTIMATED AVAILABLE 1100.
Emori sighed. That would give the rebels time to get there and dig in before an air strike could happen. "What time is first light estimated?"
"0525, sir." Kidd responded.
"Get the men up in an hour. I want to be loaded and ready to go before we get to first light. With the reflection off the cliffs, we might be able to get rolling early at low speed. Wake the cooks now and get ready." He turned to Halama. "What's the status on the radiotelephone jury-rig?"
"Not clear, sir. But I can work on it when we're on the move."
The radiotelephone was an obsolete concept. But—and it was seldom done—it could hypothetically let them connect with a telephone through a station with both a two way radio and a telephone directory. It wasn't something the military was particularly in favor of doing, as it potentially could allow for secured military translations to be picked up over the phone exchange.
I wish the military had its own exchange, Emori thought. But Pararakelse had never really needed one before the failed coup.
And since it was going to require that connection between the two, effectively, the military would have to occupy the exchange, because if there were combat instructions to be issued, you didn't want a civilian handling it. This wasn't going to be a forgot to tell the major cavalier operation. It was going to be a joint operation.
"Whether or not it works is going to depend on whether we get reception when we try," Halama added.
"Do your best," Emori said. He hoped this would work. "Do we know if the rebels have any tracking equipment?" Because that was another risk. Satellite phones could be traced when they were used. Excessive use would not only risk exposing Nyam and her team to being tracked, but it could potentially allow them to figure out where his men might be coming from.
"Well, sir," Halama said. "We don't think they have a communications vehicle that would allow them to passively track all electronic signals in the area. But if they have a command vehicle, they could actively track the satellite phone if they thought to look for it. Hopefully, we would pinpoint them first."
"Looks like hope and prayers are all we have left."
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Naru slept fitfully. She looked at her alarm clock. 1:30 in the morning. She had been dreaming about Keitaro. In the dream he had been alone in the dark and frightened of something. It was just a dream, she told herself. Sighing, she lay flat on the futon and ran her hand across her stomach and abdomen. Was that the slightest hint of a baby bump? Unlikely, as she was only on her third month. But it reminded her she needed to take care of herself instead of worrying over a dream.
Be safe, Keitaro she whispered in the darkness.
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It was 0415, and Emori's troops were wakened on schedule. The cooks had gotten coffee and breakfast ready to travel, so they blearily listened to Emori's briefing. "All right, men. We're all tired. But we have a mission. We believe that the rebel survivors are heading to an oasis discovered by that archaeological dig a few years back. Unfortunately, the archaeologists are believed to be there at the moment, so we can't just lob artillery at them." The fact that human lives were at stake was the only reason he hadn't called in the artillery. He knew how much archeology meant to Nyam, but her life was worth much more than whatever heritage was there of his people's heritage.
"We believe that the rebels will have no problems with harming or killing the civilians. And Major Anzara is known to be hostile to foreigners on our island, so I doubt he'll be inclined to stop whatever his men might want to do with the foreigners on that team. They are anywhere from one to two hours ahead of us out there. But I think we can steal a march on them. We're going to take it slow and travel before first light. If we do have a breakdown, get the vehicle off to the side to prevent slowing it down more. Get it back on the road as fast as you fucking can. The closer we can get to them before they get to the civilians might be a matter of saving lives. Now let's go!"
The men scrambled to get their supplies and get into the trucks for the trip.
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Dawn finally broke, and the camp was swarming with activity. The crew was rushing to tie down the rest of the equipment that had to go along. The rest—painful as it might be to leave it behind and risk loss—was cached. Nobody wanted to fall into the clutches of Anzara, so the fear of what might happen led to haste.
Artyom was the rearguard for the operation. His truck would be the last to leave, to make sure nobody was accidentally overlooked. Unfortunately, everybody wanted to be out as soon as possible, which made for chaos. So, Keitaro, Makie and Nyamo wound up helping make sure the other crew members were accounted for before a truck was loaded. Ten men per truck, four trucks. No truck could leave until all passengers were accounted for.
The first truck away was off at 5:40am. The second was off at six. The third was just starting to roll at 6:20….
"Okay, take it slow, watch for the rocks," Makie called to the driver over the two way radio. Move to the left, the left, MOVE TO THE FUCKING LEFT!" There was a thud and a hissing sound as the truck rolled over a large edged rock, ruining the tire and immobilizing the truck.
"I SAID LEFT, YOU IDIOT!" Makie turned and gestured to Nyamo. "Dump the cargo in the fourth truck! This one isn't going anywhere until we change the tire!" Gritting her teeth, she thought I have tomorrow if I keep on living! That seemed less comforting under these conditions.
"Dammit!" Nyamo growled. "I don't think we're going to get twenty people into that last truck. Best we could do is fifteen!" No sense yelling at the driver. His face was ashen as he realized what he had done.
Keitaro sprinted over quickly assessing the situation. "Okay, let's not panic here. We can get the fourth truck emptied. Then we can get as many as will fit. The rest will get that tire fixed and get out as soon as we can!"
"Good call!" Artyom agreed. "But clear the third truck too. Lighter is better with those jacks."
That was twenty minutes wasted unloading the trucks and trying to head off the grabbing of dumped supplies that everyone inevitably saw as essential. It was 6:50AM when the fourth truck lumbered off, leaving Keitaro, Artyom, Nyamo and Makie with four of the local workers who volunteered to stay because they didn't have families waiting at home.
"Naru will be furious if she finds out I stayed behind," Keitaro said as he watched the last truck leave.
"So will Emori," Nyamo said softly.
"Probably we should not say to them we do this," Artyom muttered. It had been natural for the four of them to stay until the last, being in charge of the crew's wellbeing. But none of them wanted to die, either and as they looked at the truck, their choice seemed riskier than it had at the time.
"All right, let's see what we have to do," Keitaro sighed. They did make sure they had the needed tools in working order before the truck left. The trick was to change the tire with the manpower they had.
"Rear right wheel set," Nyamo said, crawling out from under. "Inner tire looks like it's had it. The outer looks passable. I don't see any obvious damage to the rim."
"Right, get the bottle jack and set up board so it doesn't sink into sand," Artyom said wearily. Of course it's the damned inner tire. That meant they had to remove the good tire to pull off the bad one. "Right! You four!" He pointed to the remaining crew. "You have experience with this. We will take rifles and watch for danger. Hopefully we leave before it gets here. If it doesn't… well I guess we can try to hide in ruins and hope the army gets here sooner." He grabbed one of the Lee-Enfields.
Nodding, Nyamo grabbed the second, leaving the M-1 for Keitaro. Makie looked embarrassed. She had been afraid of firearms and never learned how to use them. It was too late now to start. "I… guess I'll use the binoculars and look from up there." She gestured to a low ridge nearby.
"Good," Artyom replied. If danger, head for the excavation trench and stay low when heading for ruins. I have no idea of quality of rebel soldiers. If good, then more you expose, more likely you get seen… or shot."
Shit, Keitaro thought, having third thoughts about staying behind. Naru, I hope I don't make you a widow!
He put his hands in his pockets and felt a bulky device. Hey, wait a minute…
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The rebels continued to move forward. The plan was to lay low and hide out until the coast was clear. Before the coup attempt, he had seen some reports of the discovery. What interested him was reports of an oasis, and a large tortoise population that could serve for food. Combine that with ruins that could be used to hide from searchers, and they could potentially hide out until the search itself died down.
His radioman poked his head in from the back of the 6x6. "Sir, there's encrypted radio chatter behind us."
Major Anzara shrugged. "Yes, Emori's men. That isn't surprising. Not much we can do about it except to get hidden fast."
"Yes, but the curious thing is they seem to be talking to a satellite phone in front of us."
The major turned around and stared. "Do they have an operative there already?" It seemed unlikely but… "Right, signal one of the pickup trucks with us, and have them pull ahead of us to recon. We don't want to run into an ambush." He began to turn away, then stopped. "Oh, tell them to use single shot. We may need to preserve ammunition."
His radioman got busy and soon, a battered pickup—one they had "liberated" in Ectbana—peeled off from the convoy and increased speed.
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The military convoy was making good speed now that the sun was up. Well, good was a relative term. But compared to the 10mph they had made before first light, they were on track for getting to the dig site by nine at the latest. More good news was that the schedule was pushed forward and 30 minutes from now the F-4s would be taking off. They were obsolete Vietnam war vintage aircraft, but they had two advantage over later models… first, they actually existed in their military, and second, since both remained in government control, the rebels didn't have any. So if they could spot the rebels, the Vulcan cannons could destroy the enemy trucks. Too bad they couldn't have deployed them in the actual coup, but that would have been grossly reckless in the city.
Halama poked his head through the tarp from the back of the truck, unaware that 30 miles ahead, his counterpart was doing the same thing. "Sir, HQ reports that we have connection with the telephone exchange. If we need to use it, we can as long as our radios can reach the communication grid.
"Well, let's not waste any time." He picked up the radio. "Alpha Mike India One dash One, Over."
There was a crackle. "Alpha Mike India One dash One, this is Alpha Base Team One at the Exchange. We Are Receiving you at four-five. We're ready if you are."
Four five was shorthand for four out of five, the strength of the signal received. Good conditions. "Roger." He gave them the satellite phone number.
"Will call. Remember wait for the chirp before speaking, and to say 'over' so the signalman knows to stop transmitting on your end and allow the other end a chance to speak."
That is primitive, Emori thought.
There was a pause. Then the radio came back on. "Alpha Mike India One dash One, this is Alpha Base Team One. The number you asked us to call just called our emergency service. We are patching him through to you as you are the closest unit in the area that can respond.
"Ah, this is the archeology team digging in the Desert of Death. We were told that hostile troops are headed this way. Our vehicle has broken down and we are trying to get it moving again."
There was a pause. Then Emori heard, "Sukin sin! Say 'Over' when you're done!"
"Ah right, Over."
Emori waited for the chirp. "This is Captain Laba. We are inbound to your position. Estimated time of arrival 0900. Two planes inbound 25 minutes. Over." Emori was glad the military had taken over the exchange. He'd hate for his end to go out in the clear.
"0900?" came the voice Emori recognized as the Japanese archaeologist named Urashima. "I can see a cloud of dust off in the distance through my binoculars. Sure you're not closer?"
"OVER!" yelled a man with a thick Russian accent.
Emori started to speak, but forced himself to wait for the chirp. "Urashima! Get your people out of here now! If your truck won't run, find shelter where you can! If you see aircraft coming your way, get hidden fast. They might not be able to distinguish friend from foe! We're increasing speed! Call that number again if you have more information! Out!" He switched the radio over to the command band. "All Units, advance, best possible speed!" He switched back over to the exchange.
"Tell Base One we need those Phantoms up right now! The rebels are in the civilians' visual range!"
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Makie slid down the ridge and made her way over to where Keitaro and Artyom were crouched, keeping low like she saw in some movies. The effect looked something like a charging goose. It would have been comical if things weren't so serious.
"We have vehicles coming in!" she said breathlessly, sliding into the ditch.
"Yes, we can see the dust clouds," Keitaro said, gesturing to the ominously closer columns rising into the sky.
"Well, better get Nyamo here," Artyom said.
"No, not that dust cloud!" Makie snapped. "There's a pickup truck coming in over from the west. It looks like it's trying to stay behind the dunes."
"Suka blyat!" Artyom swore. "I shouldn't have split us up like that. Let's grab Nyamo and let the others know. "If we get separated, try to find a place to hide in the ruins!"
Nyamo, who had also seen the truck, was pressed up against the wall in an excavation trench, crouched down as low as possible, trying not to breathe. She had just seen the two men in the truck emerge, carrying automatic rifles, wearing olive green and knew with a sick feeling that the battered pickup truck was not part of the vehicle pool in the regular Army. Oh, God… please let Emori get her soon! Let the rebels be careless and not see us!
To her horror, she saw her friends running across the sand, calling her name. The rebels turned and pointed. She hated to give her position away, but she knew they were in greater danger than she was.
"Keitaro! Get down!"
Surprised, Keitaro stopped and looked around wildly, which was the worst thing he could have done. The rebels rushed forward, aiming.
"RUN!" Artyom bellowed, pointing to the ditch as a bullet whistled by, too close for comfort. He thanked God that they were only firing single shot, instead of a full burst.
Keitaro had never run so fast in his life. The others were right behind him. The cracking sound of rifle fire directed in his direction was terrifying. He could hear Makie screaming in fear as they ran. Then, just as they reached the edge, a small turtle chose to wander out, and he caught his foot on it, and stumbled forward.
Makie looked with horror as she saw him start to go down and, seeing one of the rebels aiming at him. NO! she mentally screamed, and instinctively gave him a shove. He fell into the ditch with a crash.
Recovering her balance, Makie braced herself to dive into the trench. Just one more second and I'll be sa-
The bullet caught her in the chest. She was vaguely surprised that there was no pain, just a terrible impact. She sensed she was falling backwards, falling, falling…. But she never felt herself hit the ground.
"MAKIE!" Nyamo screamed as she saw her friend's body land, a horrible red stain spreading across her chest.
Struck by grief and rage, Keitaro got to his feet, aimed his M-1 at the closest soldier and began squeezing the trigger repeatedly. The rifle butt kicked painfully into his shoulder as he squeezed off five rounds. He felt a sick feeling in his stomach as the lead soldier jerked once and fell. Belatedly, he heard Artyom firing a shot from his Lee-Enfield.
The second rebel, realizing he was outnumbered turned and, dropping his rifle, ran for the pickup, ignoring the sound of Keitaro and Artyom shooting, and the truck driving off. As soon as his back turned, Nyamo was scrambling out of the trench and rushing over to her friend with her first aid kit. "Makie! Makie!" she screamed, "Are you okay?"
No response. No movement. Not even from the rise and fall of her chest… her chest that was stained with blood and with a hole in her shirt that was close to her heart. "Makie…" she wailed, cradling the body of her friend in her arms. Feeling hands gently try to pull her away, she angrily flailed at them. "Leave me alone!" she sobbed. "Makie, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she moaned. If I had done something different, she might not have been running towards me. I should've… it occurred to her that she had no idea what she should have done. Yell Go back? Try to shoot at the rebels?
"Oi! What happened?" One of the men from their deuce and a half shouted, running towards them. He was carrying a Very flare pistol, probably the closest thing to a weapon he could find. "Oh shit…" he whispered, horrified.
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The rebel convoy was still cruising along when he saw the pickup truck driving back towards them. It wasn't long before Anzara could see that there was only one occupant in the truck. "The hell?" Hold up, I want to find out what happened." As soon as the truck stopped, he leapt out and rushed over. "What happened? Report!"
"Armed men at the site, at least a squad," the rebel stammered out. They got my partner. But we must have killed five or six of them."
That means they got two at best, Anzara thought. "Men, get ready for battle as soon as we arrive!" he shouted. Make sure you have your ammo ready…" His voice trailed off as he realized that his men weren't listening. They were looking around wildly, then up. Then fingers shot up pointing to the sky. Anzara saw the rapidly growing shapes heading straight at him.
"Fuck!" he said, as he saw the flashing emerge from a pod underneath the lead F-4 Phantom.
Those were his final words as the 20 millimeter cannons began carving a swath through his troops.
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After giving her some time, Artyom knelt next to Nyamo and placed his hand on her shoulder. Sobbing, she turned and clung to Artyom. Artyom gestured to the men who had stayed behind that they should cover Makie's body with the tarp.
Keitaro winced as he heard what sounded like heavy gunfire, followed by explosions in the distance. Where the column of dust had been, there was now black smoke and flashes of fire among them. Moments later there was a boom as two low flying jet aircraft tore past, kicking up sand everywhere. Then they looped up and back the way they came. Then more gunfire and more explosions. A third pass, and then they began circling over that site in the distance.
He looked over to tarp covering Makie's body, If she hadn't stopped to push me, he thought, she would have been safe and that would have been me lying dead on the ground… Naru would be all alone. And, either way, for what? Some damned documents? And I killed a man for what? He looked at his hands. I'm a murderer, and responsible for Makie's death, and whatever we discover won't be worth who we lost!
Keitaro looked up, tears running down his face. "Makie… why did it have to be her?"
Artyom could hear the pain and see the look of guilt and grief on his young friend's face, and gestured for him to join them. Hesitantly, Keitaro complied and sat next to them, while the other crew members used the satellite phone to call the exchange.
"I imagine now," he said softly, "both of you think of everything that you wish you had done different and blame yourself for not doing it. But in war, you do what you can because you don't have time to think first. Then, when it's over, you think that your friend should have lived, even if you died. But that's not true."
"How would you know how I'm feeling?" Keitaro asked bitterly… although it was exactly what he was feeling. "Sorry. I- I just…" his voice trailed off.
Artyom sighed. "I have seen it before. War is a terrible thing," he said softly. "I thought I would be used to it now, after seeing friends die, seeing men I killed. But I was wrong. It still affects me. Keitaro, Nyamo… don't let survivor's guilt eat you away. It is very hard to escape from once you let start."
Nyamo stirred. "But if I had used my gun, or if I had told you to go back-"
Artyom shook his head. "And if I had not had us separate to watch out for rebels, we might have all been together. But then, we might have all been in spot where we did not see them until too late. We can't know what might have been, Nyamo. Neither of you were trained soldiers."
Keitaro looked at his hands. "Even though that man killed Makie, I can't help but think I'm a murderer for killing him."
Artyom shook his head. "You didn't kill him. That was some of the worst shooting I have ever seen. I was the one who stopped him."
"Oh?" Keitaro asked. Part of him felt useless as not having done anything. But it also felt like a bit of a relief to know he hadn't taken a life.
Puzzled, Nyamo looked at him and started to speak. Artyom shook his head.
"Hey boss!" One of the laborers came over with the phone. "The military guy wants to talk to you."
Keitaro, seeing Nyamo still clinging to Artyom, they're like father and daughter he thought, he got up. "I'll take it."
After he left, Nyamo looked at Artyom. "But you didn't shoot that soldier. He fell before you got your shot off."
Artyom put his fingers to his lips. "The first time I took a life in Afghanistan, I had hard time getting over it. I think he would too. So if lie saves him from feeling guilt, I'll tell it."
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Naru got up having no idea what had happened in Pararakelse. She was feeling a little apprehensive. If Rika was inclined to create a scene over yesterday's home visit, it would probably happen at the school. And if her talk with Sara had a bad aftermath, that might be awkward as well. But at least the morning sickness was not as intense as some mornings. So perhaps she would face those things better.
She got dressed, examining herself for signs of her pregnancy. Was that the beginning of a 'baby bump' she saw? Or was it her imagination? Either way, she placed her hands on the spot that might have been the bump. "Mommy loves you," she whispered, "and Daddy will be home soon."
Suddenly, Hachi sprang at the door, barking furiously.
"Shut up, dummy! It's me!" Sara's voice came in response. The door slid open a fraction. "Is it okay if I come in, Naru?"
"Sure, come ahead!" Naru said, finishing buttoning her blouse.
Sara slowly slid the door open, putting her leg in the opening to block Hachi from doing a runner. "Sit, dammit!" Getting inside and keeping the dog in as well was tricky, but she managed it. "How are you feeling this morning?"
Hachi obediently sat but began making wurfing noises in protest.
"Better than some," Naru replied with a gentle smile. "And how about you?"
"Well, I slept great, once I slept. Mom and I talked last night."
Uh oh. "I must have slept through that," Naru said. She immediately cringed at her tactlessness.
"Huh? Oh, no, we weren't screaming at each other, though a couple of times we raised our voices." She looked embarrassed. "I told her about Kokeru. She was starting to get upset, but then I told her why I was afraid of telling her and that you suggested that I do come forward, and she actually listened to me." Sara shrugged. "I dunno if you would have told her or not, but the fact that I came forward and told her meant something to her."
"Oh? So how did it end up?"
"Better than I feared, not as good as I hoped. She wants to meet this Kokeru before she passes a final judgment on my dating, and she doesn't want a relationship to interfere with studying. Mayne I should have waited for Dad to get home to come clean."
"Maybe," Naru said. "But I know some friends whose fathers reacted more strongly than the mothers, so maybe not."
"Anyway," Sara said. "At least we're not fighting this morning, so… thanks, I guess for talking to me."
Naru smiled, remembering how close Sara was to Haruka when the girl was younger. I hope they can have that again. "I'm glad. Now, shall we give this little furball a chance to run around?"
Going downstairs, they bumped into Motoko, who had just been getting ready to go up. "Naru, you had better come with me," she said softly.
"What is it?" Naru asked, warily, as she handed the leash to Sara.
"I'm not sure yet. But it's about Pararakelse," Motoko replied cautiously.
In the kitchen, Su, Shinobu and Kanako were huddled around Kanako's laptop. They looked up at Naru, worry on their faces.
Motoko put her arm around Naru. "Naru…" she asked gently, "have you taken your Sertraline yet this morning?" Ordinarily she hated the thought of 'mind drugs,' but in this case….
"Um, yes…" Naru said, puzzled. "Why?"
"You had better sit down…." Motoko tried to think of how to handle this. "There was a news report a little while ago. The rebels in Pararakelse were destroyed."
"I'm sensing a 'but' coming here," Naru said tensing. The look on the other's faces told her this was going to be bad. Keep calm, don't overreact….
"Apparently there was some sort of firefight with the rebels in the desert, near the dig site." Motoko said, rushing to get it out before she lost her nerve. "There was a fatality, one of the Japanese crew… Naru? Are you-"
Naru had gone pale. "W-who?" she rasped, clutching Motoko's blouse. "Who- Keitaro!?" That last part came as a shriek of dread. "I- I have to go to get him! He needs to be buried here! I have…" She jumped up, knocking the table and spilling everything on it. "I have to!" she sobbed.
Suddenly her eyes rolled up inside of her head and she slumped back in her chair, fainting.
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The Chinook helicopter touched down around 11AM, kicking up sand. Most of the soldiers had been dropped at the site of the destroyed rebel convoy. But a squad of soldiers, including a medic, had arrived to check on the civilians. They reverently put Makie's body into a body bag and carried her on board.
Keitaro was too drained to do much but collapse into the seat he was shown to. He wanted to call Naru, but he was told that the satellite phone signal would cause interference with the instruments. As the chopper lifted off, it was clear that he couldn't have communicated over the racket anyway. So he slumped down, wanting the flight to be over before the news got out and Naru drew the wrong conclusions.
Artyom sat, reflecting on the events. Despite what he warned Keitaro and Naru about, he was also struggling with survivor's guilt, thinking about what he could have done differently. He knew the answer was nothing. He had followed what he remembered of his training when he was drafted at 18, but the lack of trained men meant there were plenty of places where they couldn't see each other or all the approaches. We were so busy watching the big column that we forgot about them splitting up. He desperately wanted to see Svetlana again and forget about the horror.
Nyamo sat next to where the soldiers had placed Makie's body, a rosary in her hand, reciting the Pararakelsan prayers she had been taught as a child. "…Maria tabu, na tina ni Kalou, Ni masulaki keimami edaidai, na tamata ivalavalaca. Ni masulaki keimami tale ga e na keimami vakarau mate. Ameni."
"Goodbye Makie," she whispered. "You were a good friend… I wish you had been able to be a friend of Naru so we could have all been friends together. Please find peace now."
She began the next prayer. "Me vinaka na bula Maria, o ni sa lomani vakalevu; Sa tiko vata kei kemuni o koya na Turaga. Kemuni sa kalougata mai vei ira na yalewa kece; Sa kalougata tale ga o Jisu na lewe ni ketemuni…."
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Emori watched the helicopter depart, and he thanked God that Nyamo had not been the one to die. He wished he could have went with her. But he had been assigned the task of looking for survivors. I thought I lost her. Now he never wanted to be parted from her. When she's ready, I'll have to ask her if she feels the same.
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Naru was vaguely aware of a wet cloth covering her eyes, and she was lying on a futon. She could hear voices drifting in from the background.
"…you didn't have to tell her this, right away!" Mutsumi was saying in her 'deeply intense' voice.
"What was I supposed to do," Motoko's voice came back defensively. "Let her find out when she went to school?"
"You got her into a state over nothing though! He wasn't the one who died. She could have miscarried because of the shock! What were you thinking?"
"I- I'm sorry." Motoko's voice sounded deeply ashamed. "Maybe I should have looked for you first. I- I had thought it was a good chance it was… Naru, I'm so sorry!" The last was spoken as if she was speaking to someone unconscious.
Trying to sort out the emotional whirlwind, Naru pulled the cloth off of her eyes, and raised her head.
There was a chorus of "NARU!" and a stampede as the others knelt around her. "Are you all right?" Mutsumi asked earnestly.
"I don't know," she murmured, trying to sit up. "How is Keitaro and how is the baby?"
"They're both okay!" Shinobu blurted out.
"Keitaro called an hour ago to let us know he was all right," Kanako chimed in, "and we had an ambulance here. But the doctor said you would be okay and there was no sense in bringing you in."
Naru looked to Mutsumi, who gave a nod and a smile. So Naru took Motoko's hand. "Then don't worry, Motoko. I forgive you," she said gently. The clasp turned into a death grip. "DON'T run away again!" She looked at the others. "Now get me my phone! I need to call my husband!"
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Author's Notes
There's one more chapter to go in this story. I thought about making it part of this one, but decided I needed to address the transition back to Japana little more than an in-chapter epilogue would allow.
"they give us Sergeant Training course." This was taken from Tom Clancy's Red Storm Rising. No idea if it's accurate or not. I wanted to avoid a "Mary Sue" situation in this fanfiction. This is a dangerous situation they're in, and they know they can't win a battle against trained soldiers. In fact, it would be suicide.
"1:30 in the morning." Remember that Pararakelse is one day ahead of Japan, but time wise is only two hours ahead. So, 1:30am in Tokyo is 3:30am the next day in Pararakelse.
The scene with Naru might seem like an afterthought, but I originally wrote it to be interspersed with Keitaro's story. But in plotting it out, I thought that the action would all be over before the daily routine of Hinata House started. I decided that vague reports of a Japanese citizen killed would be the first thing reported in Japan. So, I decided to do it this way to show how much Keitaro did mean to Naru (in case there was any doubt).
The prayer Nyamo is praying is the last half of the Hail Mary, and then the first half, in Fijian which I use as a stand in for Pararakelsan.