The way to love anything is to realize it might be lost.-G.K. Chesterton
Whistle down the wind. Let your voices carry. Drown out all the rain, light a patch of darkness treacherous and scary. Howl at the stars. Whisper when you're sleeping. I'll be there to hold you. I'll be there to stop the chills and all the weeping. Make it clear and strong, so the whole night long - every signal that you send until the very end, I will not abandon you, my precious friend.-Jim Steiner
CHAPTER 4
Whistle Down The Wind
Finally, I had arrived in Paraguay. Now, I had to find the hotel that Gunny was staying at. It didn't help that I didn't speak the language, except for a few lines. I had scribbled down the address of the hotel where we were to meet on the first available sheet of paper. I clutched my overnight bag, the only bag I'd brought with me, and dug through the side pocket to find that sheet of paper.
I hadn't really had enough time to grab more than a few changes of clothes and toiletry items that I could stuff into it. Every minute that I was doing something else, Mac could be in danger of dying. Once I exited the busy airport, I got into a taxi. Luckily, the cab driver knew enough English to understand where I needed to go.
On the way to the hotel, I paid no attention to the colorful people and their warm, earthy homes. I could only focus on what Gunny and I had to do. Gunny would know where Mac and Webb were. I figured that we could go to Hardy, the CIA station chief there, and see if they had a rescue operation planned. I doubted it, though. The CIA had no brotherhood policy that left room for 'leave no man behind'.
Before I knew it the taxi came to a halt in front of a rather simple looking hotel. I gave the driver American money, which he was more than happy to take, and then I stepped out of the taxi and walked into the hotel. Once inside, I took out my cell phone and called Gunny.
"Hola."
"Hello, Gunny. It's Harm."
"Hello, sir. Where are you right now?" he asked me.
"I'm downstairs," I replied.
"Be down in a few minutes, sir."
"No, let me come up to you. What room number are you in, Gunny?"
"26a, sir."
"I'll be there shortly."
Then I hung up and hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
As I urged up the stairs, I pondered the treatment Gunny had borne during his imprisonment. I knew that Gunny was shot during the rescue attempt, and that he was tortured, but I didn't know how badly he was hurt. I felt that once I saw him, it would help me see more fully what the other two had endured as well. Ever since I'd heard about their capture and about the pain suffered by Gunny and Webb, fear had ferociously plunged his steel dagger deep into my heart, and since then, his cold blade had been twisting itself ever deeper into its depths. I couldn't help but worry about what I would find when I finally got to Mac.
Eventually, I arrived at Gunny's door and knocked. We greeted each other. I noted his pallid skin and his face roughened by a dark stubble. As I entered the room, I placed my bag on a chair.
"Sir, do you need to use the phone to call the Admiral and tell him you've arrived?" Gunny questioned.
"It's not sir anymore, Gunny."
"Sir?"
Old habits died hard.
"I resigned my commission."
Gunny was dumbfounded.
"Quit the Navy, sir?"
"Somebody had to go after Mac and Webb. I knew the CIA wasn't going to do it."
Gunny gave a short nod of understanding.
"How were they the last time you saw them, Gunny?" He hesitated. "I have to know."
"They were pretty merciless in their methods. If they can't extract the knowledge they want from them, they'll kill them trying. That was a few days ago, sir."
Gunny's admission had confirmed what, in my heart, I'd already known. It confirmed what had seemed tenuous and almost impossible before - that Mac and Webb might already be dead. My mind had been practically decimated by the torturous thoughts that had riddled it. This new knowledge assailed my mind, and laid it to further waste.
"We need to go see the station chief. I'd like to see if we could get some help from him."
"Let's get going."
During the cab ride to the station chief, we both were silent, lost in our own separate reveries.
Upon arriving, a quiet man in a somber suit took us up three flights of stairs. There were so many turns and convoluted halls, that I doubted I'd be able to find my way out without a map. Spooks.
We finally made it to Hardy's office. A man motioned for us to halt, and we did so, as he knocked on Hardy's door. We heard a muffled,
"Come in, McGovern, and bring Rabb and Galindez with you." He led us inside, and then turned, closing the door behind him. Hardy was sitting in a chair, puffing comfortably on a cigar, while poring over a few files.
"Hello, gentlemen, please have a seat," the man stated.
We seated ourselves. Hardy stood and sauntered across the room. He reached a rather ornately carved wooden box and opened it. Offering the box to us, he asked, "Would you like one?"
"No, thanks." I was concerned with much more pressing matters at the moment than having a smoke.
He shrugged and smiled jovially.
"Your loss. How may I help you two gentleman?" he inquired.
"Chief, I wondered if you had come to a decision since the last time we spoke. We could use some help getting Mr. Webb and the Colonel back," Gunny informed Hardy.
"You're not doing anything. I told you before, we would handle it. You don't know these men, they're dangerous. Besides, I don't need you poking your noses into it and messing things up. There are greater things at risk here than the lives of your buddies."
"So, you're telling us you won't help us. Then, I guess we're done here. Thank you, Mr. Hardy," I stated. At this point, I saw no reason to hang around and waste precious time. I got up and walked to the door. Gunny followed suit. Hardy narrowed his eyes.
"You're going to go after them, anyway, aren't you?" he said, coming up to me, and looking me straight in the eyes. "You have guts for a lawyer, but I meant what I said, you're risking the lives of the many for the lives of two people."
He opened the door and nodded to McGovern, who was standing by.
"Now, please follow McGovern and he'll show you the way out."
McGovern led us out by a different route than the way we entered.
Two hours later
Gunny and I managed to find a vehicle, and brought along a couple of guns that he had stashed in his room. Since we didn't have any help, we thought it would be better if we went in under the cover of night.
By the time dusk's purple hues shot across the mellow amber and rose of the sky, we made it to the place where Mac and Webb were being held. It was in a remote area, surrounded by trees. We decided to hide the truck in the thick band of trees surrounding Fahd's home, and walk the final mile. A hush nestled over the grounds. The only sounds were an occasional bird singing, and the sound of laughter, carried by the breeze, drifting to our vantage point. There were at least 10 men outside with guns, and who knew how many inside.
Gunny went ahead of me when we got to the edge of the trees, while I covered for him. He slowly snaked over to a place near the shack that contained Mac and Webb. Once there, he signaled to me from his hiding place. Two guards were standing in front of the shack, guarding Sadik's prey. Surreptitiously, I followed Gunny's suit. This was the worst part - the agonizing wait. I spoke to Gunny, my voice lowered,
"Can you tell if they're still alive?"
Before he could reply, I had my answer. In the shack I heard shuffling. Angry shouts spiked the air, followed by hellish screams. They sounded like they were coming from Webb. I stood up with fists clenched, rage shook my entire frame. Gunny stopped me. I succeeded in breaking his iron grasp banding my arms, and steamed toward the shack. But, Gunny jerked me back by whispering desperately after me,
"You're killing them with every step you take, sir."
This stopped me cold. I hesitated for a moment and then reluctantly headed back to our hiding place. More screams split the air. I had no choice but to sit and suffer the torments of the damned.
Eventually, the remaining heat of the sun chilled into the ebony shroud of night. The song of the birds was replaced by the chirping of crickets. And the lights flared from the house. It was time.
I rose from our hiding place, steeling my self to enter the shack. However, Gunny grabbed my arm to quell me, and pointed to something with his eyes. Then I heard it. The sound of footsteps crunching on the grass. A man, surrounded by guards, paused before the shack and peered over to where Gunny and I crouched. His eyes then wandered around the perimeter of the shack. Satisfied, he entered. The two guards he brought with him settled themselves outside the hovel with their counterparts.
A few minutes later the man came out, and demanded something of one of his men, in Farsi. The guard entered the shack and came out with a badly beaten Webb. He had blood all over him and his eyes were swollen shut. His flesh was tainted pink and blue with bruises. He was a shell of his former self. He staggered falteringly along with them, mumbling something incoherent. I tried to catch what it was, but it faded as they hauled him away. Gunny and I eyed each other and silently agreed to wait longer. We couldn't leave Webb behind.
Later
Some time later, we finally spotted Webb being taken back to the shack. He was being dragged by the same two men he left with. His legs scraped across the ground, his arms were limp. Regardless of the painful scuff of his legs over the ground, Webb didn't wince, or even move. This led me to comprehend he was unconscious. But, it wasn't until they opened the door of the shack and light spilled upon his flaccid form that we saw the garish reality. His body and features were so mauled, he barely looked human.
The man, who I had gathered by now was Fahd, came out and flashed something at the guard, and they retreated back into the house, only to come back out a few minutes later. He and a great deal of his men got into several vehicles and rumbled off into the night.
"You take the guy on the left and I'll take the one on the right," I uttered in hushed tones.
Gunny nodded in silent assent and we stealthily inched toward the men. The night harbored me, Gunny and my anger, which was alive and kicking, and hurtling me towards the shack. And, even though she was so close, it felt like it was taking an eternity to span the chasm between the shack that held her and I. The men saw us charging toward them and the one on the left hit Gunny with the butt of his gun. The guard I was after aimed his gun at me, but I landed a well-placed punch in the head. The man slipped to the ground.
Gunny was struggling with the guard who dazed him with the butt of his gun, so I intervened. I grabbed the man's rifle and we struggled with it. Gunny lurched, trying to steady himself. He'd been through a lot in the past few days. I got a punch in and the man dropped the gun. Gunny grabbed it and pointed it at the man. The man held his hands in the air suppliantly. There was complete silence over the place.
Gunny stayed behind, keeping an eye on things. He was bleeding from the fresh wound inflicted upon him by the guard, and his skin looked clammy and moist. He said nothing, just stood there valiantly surveying the grounds. Gunny was a solider and he'd keep going. I rushed over to the shack.
Jerking the door open, I squinted at the lights, dim though they were, suddenly shining in my eyes, and found Mac and Webb on the floor. He was the closest. His prone body laid crumpled in the dust. I checked his pulse. When I found his flesh was as cold as stone, I forced myself not to withdraw my hand. His pulse was thready and faint, but there. Mac was a little further away, hunched over in a darkened corner. I dashed over to her. My heart was about to beat out of my chest. My body trembled involuntarily.
As I got closer, I failed to notice that she'd moved her leg in front of me. Tripping over her foot, I fell to the ground. That shot a gaping hole in my pride. I had planned on coming in here and sweeping her up heroically. Suddenly, she was on top of me with one of her fists clinched. I got a better look at her from this angle. The natural tawny color of her skin had been replaced by the chalky pallor of death. The only signs of color I could see anywhere on her, were the dark stains of bruising and scratches covering her body. She looked fragile, her thin body and the dark circles underscoring her eyes didn't help matters. I opened my mouth to speak, since I could tell she was so out of it, she hadn't yet recognized me, when she lifted her clinched hand and threw dirt in my eyes.
"If I'm going, I'm taking one of you with me!!"
I sputtered and coughed from the dirt she threw at me. As I rubbed my eyes and cursed, she grabbed the gun from my other hand and I felt the cool metal pressed against my forehead.
"No!!"
She pulled the trigger.
End of Chapter 4
Whistle down the wind. Let your voices carry. Drown out all the rain, light a patch of darkness treacherous and scary. Howl at the stars. Whisper when you're sleeping. I'll be there to hold you. I'll be there to stop the chills and all the weeping. Make it clear and strong, so the whole night long - every signal that you send until the very end, I will not abandon you, my precious friend.-Jim Steiner
CHAPTER 4
Whistle Down The Wind
Finally, I had arrived in Paraguay. Now, I had to find the hotel that Gunny was staying at. It didn't help that I didn't speak the language, except for a few lines. I had scribbled down the address of the hotel where we were to meet on the first available sheet of paper. I clutched my overnight bag, the only bag I'd brought with me, and dug through the side pocket to find that sheet of paper.
I hadn't really had enough time to grab more than a few changes of clothes and toiletry items that I could stuff into it. Every minute that I was doing something else, Mac could be in danger of dying. Once I exited the busy airport, I got into a taxi. Luckily, the cab driver knew enough English to understand where I needed to go.
On the way to the hotel, I paid no attention to the colorful people and their warm, earthy homes. I could only focus on what Gunny and I had to do. Gunny would know where Mac and Webb were. I figured that we could go to Hardy, the CIA station chief there, and see if they had a rescue operation planned. I doubted it, though. The CIA had no brotherhood policy that left room for 'leave no man behind'.
Before I knew it the taxi came to a halt in front of a rather simple looking hotel. I gave the driver American money, which he was more than happy to take, and then I stepped out of the taxi and walked into the hotel. Once inside, I took out my cell phone and called Gunny.
"Hola."
"Hello, Gunny. It's Harm."
"Hello, sir. Where are you right now?" he asked me.
"I'm downstairs," I replied.
"Be down in a few minutes, sir."
"No, let me come up to you. What room number are you in, Gunny?"
"26a, sir."
"I'll be there shortly."
Then I hung up and hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
As I urged up the stairs, I pondered the treatment Gunny had borne during his imprisonment. I knew that Gunny was shot during the rescue attempt, and that he was tortured, but I didn't know how badly he was hurt. I felt that once I saw him, it would help me see more fully what the other two had endured as well. Ever since I'd heard about their capture and about the pain suffered by Gunny and Webb, fear had ferociously plunged his steel dagger deep into my heart, and since then, his cold blade had been twisting itself ever deeper into its depths. I couldn't help but worry about what I would find when I finally got to Mac.
Eventually, I arrived at Gunny's door and knocked. We greeted each other. I noted his pallid skin and his face roughened by a dark stubble. As I entered the room, I placed my bag on a chair.
"Sir, do you need to use the phone to call the Admiral and tell him you've arrived?" Gunny questioned.
"It's not sir anymore, Gunny."
"Sir?"
Old habits died hard.
"I resigned my commission."
Gunny was dumbfounded.
"Quit the Navy, sir?"
"Somebody had to go after Mac and Webb. I knew the CIA wasn't going to do it."
Gunny gave a short nod of understanding.
"How were they the last time you saw them, Gunny?" He hesitated. "I have to know."
"They were pretty merciless in their methods. If they can't extract the knowledge they want from them, they'll kill them trying. That was a few days ago, sir."
Gunny's admission had confirmed what, in my heart, I'd already known. It confirmed what had seemed tenuous and almost impossible before - that Mac and Webb might already be dead. My mind had been practically decimated by the torturous thoughts that had riddled it. This new knowledge assailed my mind, and laid it to further waste.
"We need to go see the station chief. I'd like to see if we could get some help from him."
"Let's get going."
During the cab ride to the station chief, we both were silent, lost in our own separate reveries.
Upon arriving, a quiet man in a somber suit took us up three flights of stairs. There were so many turns and convoluted halls, that I doubted I'd be able to find my way out without a map. Spooks.
We finally made it to Hardy's office. A man motioned for us to halt, and we did so, as he knocked on Hardy's door. We heard a muffled,
"Come in, McGovern, and bring Rabb and Galindez with you." He led us inside, and then turned, closing the door behind him. Hardy was sitting in a chair, puffing comfortably on a cigar, while poring over a few files.
"Hello, gentlemen, please have a seat," the man stated.
We seated ourselves. Hardy stood and sauntered across the room. He reached a rather ornately carved wooden box and opened it. Offering the box to us, he asked, "Would you like one?"
"No, thanks." I was concerned with much more pressing matters at the moment than having a smoke.
He shrugged and smiled jovially.
"Your loss. How may I help you two gentleman?" he inquired.
"Chief, I wondered if you had come to a decision since the last time we spoke. We could use some help getting Mr. Webb and the Colonel back," Gunny informed Hardy.
"You're not doing anything. I told you before, we would handle it. You don't know these men, they're dangerous. Besides, I don't need you poking your noses into it and messing things up. There are greater things at risk here than the lives of your buddies."
"So, you're telling us you won't help us. Then, I guess we're done here. Thank you, Mr. Hardy," I stated. At this point, I saw no reason to hang around and waste precious time. I got up and walked to the door. Gunny followed suit. Hardy narrowed his eyes.
"You're going to go after them, anyway, aren't you?" he said, coming up to me, and looking me straight in the eyes. "You have guts for a lawyer, but I meant what I said, you're risking the lives of the many for the lives of two people."
He opened the door and nodded to McGovern, who was standing by.
"Now, please follow McGovern and he'll show you the way out."
McGovern led us out by a different route than the way we entered.
Two hours later
Gunny and I managed to find a vehicle, and brought along a couple of guns that he had stashed in his room. Since we didn't have any help, we thought it would be better if we went in under the cover of night.
By the time dusk's purple hues shot across the mellow amber and rose of the sky, we made it to the place where Mac and Webb were being held. It was in a remote area, surrounded by trees. We decided to hide the truck in the thick band of trees surrounding Fahd's home, and walk the final mile. A hush nestled over the grounds. The only sounds were an occasional bird singing, and the sound of laughter, carried by the breeze, drifting to our vantage point. There were at least 10 men outside with guns, and who knew how many inside.
Gunny went ahead of me when we got to the edge of the trees, while I covered for him. He slowly snaked over to a place near the shack that contained Mac and Webb. Once there, he signaled to me from his hiding place. Two guards were standing in front of the shack, guarding Sadik's prey. Surreptitiously, I followed Gunny's suit. This was the worst part - the agonizing wait. I spoke to Gunny, my voice lowered,
"Can you tell if they're still alive?"
Before he could reply, I had my answer. In the shack I heard shuffling. Angry shouts spiked the air, followed by hellish screams. They sounded like they were coming from Webb. I stood up with fists clenched, rage shook my entire frame. Gunny stopped me. I succeeded in breaking his iron grasp banding my arms, and steamed toward the shack. But, Gunny jerked me back by whispering desperately after me,
"You're killing them with every step you take, sir."
This stopped me cold. I hesitated for a moment and then reluctantly headed back to our hiding place. More screams split the air. I had no choice but to sit and suffer the torments of the damned.
Eventually, the remaining heat of the sun chilled into the ebony shroud of night. The song of the birds was replaced by the chirping of crickets. And the lights flared from the house. It was time.
I rose from our hiding place, steeling my self to enter the shack. However, Gunny grabbed my arm to quell me, and pointed to something with his eyes. Then I heard it. The sound of footsteps crunching on the grass. A man, surrounded by guards, paused before the shack and peered over to where Gunny and I crouched. His eyes then wandered around the perimeter of the shack. Satisfied, he entered. The two guards he brought with him settled themselves outside the hovel with their counterparts.
A few minutes later the man came out, and demanded something of one of his men, in Farsi. The guard entered the shack and came out with a badly beaten Webb. He had blood all over him and his eyes were swollen shut. His flesh was tainted pink and blue with bruises. He was a shell of his former self. He staggered falteringly along with them, mumbling something incoherent. I tried to catch what it was, but it faded as they hauled him away. Gunny and I eyed each other and silently agreed to wait longer. We couldn't leave Webb behind.
Later
Some time later, we finally spotted Webb being taken back to the shack. He was being dragged by the same two men he left with. His legs scraped across the ground, his arms were limp. Regardless of the painful scuff of his legs over the ground, Webb didn't wince, or even move. This led me to comprehend he was unconscious. But, it wasn't until they opened the door of the shack and light spilled upon his flaccid form that we saw the garish reality. His body and features were so mauled, he barely looked human.
The man, who I had gathered by now was Fahd, came out and flashed something at the guard, and they retreated back into the house, only to come back out a few minutes later. He and a great deal of his men got into several vehicles and rumbled off into the night.
"You take the guy on the left and I'll take the one on the right," I uttered in hushed tones.
Gunny nodded in silent assent and we stealthily inched toward the men. The night harbored me, Gunny and my anger, which was alive and kicking, and hurtling me towards the shack. And, even though she was so close, it felt like it was taking an eternity to span the chasm between the shack that held her and I. The men saw us charging toward them and the one on the left hit Gunny with the butt of his gun. The guard I was after aimed his gun at me, but I landed a well-placed punch in the head. The man slipped to the ground.
Gunny was struggling with the guard who dazed him with the butt of his gun, so I intervened. I grabbed the man's rifle and we struggled with it. Gunny lurched, trying to steady himself. He'd been through a lot in the past few days. I got a punch in and the man dropped the gun. Gunny grabbed it and pointed it at the man. The man held his hands in the air suppliantly. There was complete silence over the place.
Gunny stayed behind, keeping an eye on things. He was bleeding from the fresh wound inflicted upon him by the guard, and his skin looked clammy and moist. He said nothing, just stood there valiantly surveying the grounds. Gunny was a solider and he'd keep going. I rushed over to the shack.
Jerking the door open, I squinted at the lights, dim though they were, suddenly shining in my eyes, and found Mac and Webb on the floor. He was the closest. His prone body laid crumpled in the dust. I checked his pulse. When I found his flesh was as cold as stone, I forced myself not to withdraw my hand. His pulse was thready and faint, but there. Mac was a little further away, hunched over in a darkened corner. I dashed over to her. My heart was about to beat out of my chest. My body trembled involuntarily.
As I got closer, I failed to notice that she'd moved her leg in front of me. Tripping over her foot, I fell to the ground. That shot a gaping hole in my pride. I had planned on coming in here and sweeping her up heroically. Suddenly, she was on top of me with one of her fists clinched. I got a better look at her from this angle. The natural tawny color of her skin had been replaced by the chalky pallor of death. The only signs of color I could see anywhere on her, were the dark stains of bruising and scratches covering her body. She looked fragile, her thin body and the dark circles underscoring her eyes didn't help matters. I opened my mouth to speak, since I could tell she was so out of it, she hadn't yet recognized me, when she lifted her clinched hand and threw dirt in my eyes.
"If I'm going, I'm taking one of you with me!!"
I sputtered and coughed from the dirt she threw at me. As I rubbed my eyes and cursed, she grabbed the gun from my other hand and I felt the cool metal pressed against my forehead.
"No!!"
She pulled the trigger.
End of Chapter 4
