Chap 5
O'Connell spotted the Medjai commanders as he walked down the gangplank off the ship and weaved through the crowded pier. As he came closer, he immediately knew something was wrong with Ardeth, noticing the pale and withdrawn face, and how much weight he was taking off his injured leg. A grimace of pain that flashed over the usually stoic Medjai's face confirmed Rick's suspicion; a suspicion that he'd formulated back home on the first night of Ardeth's stay when he had asked his friend about the wound. At first he actually thought the exchange would be problem free, but his instincts were sending him warnings. He felt is if they were being watched and he scanned the surrounding buildings, looking for any perceived threats.
"O'Connell," Ardeth called out and the men exchanged greetings.
"Ardeth, Nabil, good to see you again," Rick said. "Too bad it couldn't be under different circumstances."
"Is the captain aware your boarding the ship again with some cargo?" Nabil asked.
"Yeah, we made the arrangements before I left," Rick frowned watching Ardeth who seemed incapable of following the conversation. "I guess now we just wait for the chest?"
"I'll send a man to check on the progress of the helpers," suggested Nabil and walked a few yards away, signaling to a nearby warrior.
"Ardeth?" Rick turned back to his friend. "Are you feeling okay?"
"I wish this was under different circumstances," Ardeth murmured regretfully and grasped Rick by the shoulders. "But my friend, you must listen to me carefully. No matter what may happen here, get the chest on the ship. Take it and get out of here, do not look back.for the love of Allah, I ask this of you."
"Trouble." It wasn't a question, it was a statement and Rick took that meaning from the look of desperation in the warrior's eyes, a look he never thought to see. "You need my help."
"La! No, I need you to leave here.my people are counting on you to complete this task." Ardeth closed his eyes as another shiver went through his body and then opened them a moment later. "As am I."
Rick gave a small humorless laugh. "What, something else that doesn't involve me?"
"Yes, something like that." Ardeth agreed with a feeble smile.
"The last time 'something' that didn't involve me came up, I got my ass kicked by Adham. That's something I'm not going to forget very easily."
"O'Connell."
"It's ok though, you win this round. I'll go be the good little errand boy like I should but," Rick paused, allowing just a hint of emotion to flare up in his eyes. "If I find out something happened to you, I'm coming back here. There won't be a rock big enough, a pyramid high enough or a camel fast enough to keep them from me."
He reached out his arm in a silent gesture and without hesitation, Ardeth gripped it around the forearm, as both men silently reinforced their friendship.
Nabil joined them a moment later and announced the helpers would arrive momentarily.
~*~
With a vicious twist of his knife, Kasim killed the Medjai warrior, his hand clamped over the man's mouth to muffle any cry of alarm, then let the limp body fall to the ground with a sickening thud. Twenty of his best riflemen had slowly circled the pier and were now positioned surrounding their quarry, lying in ambush on rooftops and behind vendor stalls. Five more of his men waited on horseback with Qutaybah's men, who were stationed just beyond the next street, watching for his signal to attack.
Kasim crept out from behind his concealment and peered around the corner of the building. He recognized the time had come to strike; the two warriors were conveniently standing with the American. He saw the helpers struggling as they walked up with the chest, seized the opportunity and gave his battle cry to attack.
The pier erupted in gunfire.
~*~
The first volley of bullets that sprayed through the air spurred Rick into action and he dove for cover behind a nearby wagon of cargo. Men on horseback stampeded through the street adding to the chaos as innocent spectators screamed in fear and scattered. Nabil threw himself to the opposite side, near the large stack of pallets but Ardeth was chased away from the dock area and out into a small open square. Immediately three men surrounded the commander and Rick could only watch helplessly as it became apparent Ardeth was fighting for his life.
He rolled over onto his knees and pulled out his pistols, returning as much gunfire as he could, glancing over to find Nabil in a similar situation. He was slowly being surrounded by five men as they advanced, swords drawn a ready for an attack. The warrior moved sideways, towards a woman who was screaming in terror and slowly pushed the resistant body behind him.
"Nabil!" Rick yelled and fired off a couple of rounds to help.
"La, help Ardeth," he answered and drew his scimitar. "Do it now!"
Rick swore under his breath but did as instructed and swung back towards his friend, only to be pinned down as another hails of bullets chipped off bits and pieces of wood from the wagon. He ducked for cover, and used that time to reload, then surfaced to fire again.
~*~
Nabil spun around and grabbed the woman by the shoulders with a rough shake, in an attempt to stop her hysterical screaming. Her eyes were wild with fright. Her hands were held out rigidly in front of her and he could see splatters of blood all over her shoulder and up onto her face. Blood no doubt from her red haired friend, killed instantly when a stray bullet lodged into her forehead.
"Do you want to live?" Nabil demanded harshly.
Her screaming suddenly stopped but without waiting for her reply, Nabil grabbed her hand and propelled her towards the stack of pallets. He threw her against them, then slammed his body against hers, effectively protecting her and surprising the English woman with the sudden contact.
She gasped and stared up at him. He saw shock and embarrassment in her eyes, but she grabbed onto his robe, craving the safety that came with his sudden almost intimate closeness.
"Move and you die. Stay behind me and you may live to greet another sunrise." Nabil ordered roughly and spun around again to meet the oncoming charge of an enemy.
His scimitar rang out with a metallic clang as it met the downward arc from the other man's sword in an upward swing as the warrior parried the vicious blow. He recovered from the block and with a few precise thrusts, ended the fight with a quick and deadly cut to the jugular. The man toppled to the ground as his life's blood poured from his slit throat.
There was no glory, no display of skill or even honor in the carnage that followed, as more men quickly replaced the one that had fallen.
Nabil's scimitar moved in a blur of sharp cuts and flashing steel, the sunlight glancing off the once silver blade that was now tinged ruby red. The woman clung to him in silent desperation, her whimpers of horror somehow heard above the grunts and groans of the dying. Her grasp hampered his movements.
When he dispatched the last man, there was only a blessed moment to recoup his strength and he turned back towards the woman, pressing himself against her body and pushing her further into the pallets. He heard the small groan of pain she held back and for a moment, he regretted any injury he may have caused.
Nabil started to warn her again but suddenly her eyes shifted over his shoulder and widened in alarm. He reacted without thought and shoved her to the ground, pushing her down to her knees, then covering her trembling body with his own as bullets splintered the wood overhead.
"Please," he ordered urgently in her ear. "Do not move."
When the shooting had stopped, he jumped up to face a new charge from the enemy, leaving the woman cowering on the ground to watch the men fighting, an expression of horror on her already pale face.
Nabil had fought as valiantly as possible but the constant struggle was beginning to wear on the commander and his arm grew weak from the ringing blows of his opponents. Fighting one man had turned into fighting four and his lip curled back with a defiant sneer when more men came to the aid of their brethren.
Legs braced apart, chest heaving from the toll of the battle, Nabil stood like an avenging god of war, defiant and beckoning those who were brave enough to come forward.
"Who else wishes to feel the bite of my blade?" he taunted and vaguely thought of his oath.
Till death.
His attackers paused for a moment, fear and disbelief written plainly on their faces, and signs of a grudging respect for the lone Medjai that had single-handedly killed so many of their own. The scales in the balance tipped precariously to one side, then tipped back the other way. From the crowd of men emerged the muzzle of a gun, then a white puff of smoke billowing into the blue sky.
The bullet ripped into Nabil's shoulder, spinning the warrior off balance even as his body tried to compensate from the momentum. He staggered, but still remained on his feet.
The enemy recovered from their initial surprise, charged forward with a ringing battle cry and within moments, Nabil collapsed under their onslaught. The Medjai was finally down and was taken captive.
~*~
Olivia cringed on the ground, her hand covering her mouth, quietly sobbing with fright from what she had just witnessed. There was blood everywhere, on her clothes, her hair, mingling with sand and changing it into an ever- increasing maroon colored circle. She wanted to close her eyes, block out the sight of so many men being killed and to stop seeing her rescuer gunned down.
She watched them pick up the limp, black clad body and carry it away, her numb mind not registering they were coming for her until it was too late.
They reached for her, with evil smiles and rough hands, jerking her to her feet and pulling her away from the sanctuary of the pallets. They pushed off her hat and her hair came cascading down, shining like beaten gold in the sunlight and they touched it, pawed at it until a terse command was issued.
Olivia found her voice at the last moment. And she screamed for her husband over and over, fighting, kicking, and scratching at her captors until she was backhanded across the face. Dazed, she was pulled up onto a horse and was quickly taken away from the port.
~*~
"Damn it!" Rick bellowed, and ducked behind the wagon to reload his guns. So far, his helping Ardeth had been minimal, only being able to stop more men from joining the existing fight. Every time he had another within his sites, it seemed as if the enemy knew it and kept up a constant barrage of bullets effectively pinning him down.
He moved to another section behind the wagon and peered out, his eyes widening in shock when he saw how poorly the warrior was fighting.
Whereas once he had seen Ardeth move in battle with a feline grace and agility, now his movements were sluggish and choppy, the weight of his scimitar seemingly too much for his arm to wield. The body that should have been fluid in motion and form now seemed awkward and lethargic, covered with a small number of cuts. A glaring indication that all was not well with him.
Rick couldn't help but wince along with Ardeth when a man came in too high with a thrust from his sword, slashing a bloody red line across the forearm. In retaliation, Rick fired his guns and felt the first twinge of satisfaction when one man finally went down.
Two men left and Ardeth was fighting worse than ever.
O'Connell ducked behind the wagon when gunfire made him scramble for cover but he twisted back out and fired in return.
One man left and this one was stubborn, dancing safely away from Ardeth's limited range with clearly no intention of letting the Medjai come in too close.
O'Connell watched as his friend overcompensated for this and moved awkwardly into the direction of a thrust towards the Medjai's exposed side. Rick reacted without thinking and heedless of his own safety, rolled away from the cover of the wagon, and to his knees firing off several shots. The man finally fell to the ground, leaving the warrior standing alone if not somewhat unsteady on his feet.
Suddenly, a rider came up from behind Ardeth and with malicious precision, took careful aim with his rifle.
Rick saw the threat and screamed a warning for his friend, but in his heart he already knew it was too late.
He saw Ardeth spin slowly around and face the enemy, his scimitar almost hanging uselessly from his hand, his body swaying as he fought to remain standing. Rick jumped up and started running, his legs feeling like they were mired in mud, his guns firing the remaining bullets as his fingers pressed the trigger over and over. They continued clicking until the barrels were empty but O'Connell still charged forward, intent on saving his friend even at the cost of his own life.
A white puff of smoke erupted from the rifle and a second later, Ardeth's body crumpled to the ground, his body crashing to its side and lying there as his robes slowly settled like a black shroud around him.
Rick heard someone screaming and dimly realized it was him, calling Ardeth's name over and over in disbelief, praying to God that his friend was alive. He never saw the rifle raised again, nor did he see the warning of the smoke to herald the arrival of the next bullet. It slammed into his shoulder, knocked him off his feet and he landed with a heavy thud onto the sand, only a few feet way from the Medjai.
Intense pain swept over him, almost paralyzing his mind, but certainly not stopping his body and Rick moved forward a fraction of an inch. His hand was outstretched in the sand, reaching, wanting to touch and confirm that Ardeth still lived.
"Ardeth!" He cried and moved again.
Through blurred vision, he saw the pier empty of its combatants, bodies picked up and carried away and he vaguely heard someone yell "Medjai." None of that mattered to him now and he crawled forward again, fingertips almost touching Ardeth's shoulder.
Two figures suddenly materialized from the hazy edges of his eyesight and one bent over the fallen body of the commander, a hand reaching down and checking for any signs of life.
"Tell me," Rick groaned. "Tell me he's alive."
He saw the negative shake of the head and over the roaring in his ears, he heard the anguished reply.
"There is nothing that can be done. Nothing."
"No."
They scurried around and quickly picked up the limp body, Ardeth's dark head rolling to the side, and they carried him away.
"No." He watched them disappear back into the misty edges of his eyesight and still he struggled to see where they were taking his friend. He tried to move once more, but his body slumped weakly to the ground.
"No."
"Commander, over here." A new voice called out and Rick rolled over onto his back, waiting to see if this new person was friend or foe. All around him, he had the vague sensation of black clad men running through the area and wondered if this was a rescue.
"O'Connell?" Asked another voice and Rick found himself staring up into the face of an older warrior, his beard sprinkled with gray, the same crescent tattoos on a face that looked reminiscent of Ardeth's.
"Who.the hell wants to know?" Rick gasped.
"I am Commander Quadamah of the Fourth. What in the name of Allah has happened here?"
Rick rolled his head to one side, staring at the spot on the ground where the body of his friend had once laid. He was losing his grip on consciousness and he whispered one final sentence before finally passing out.
"They killed him," he said. "Ardeth Bay . is. dead."
O'Connell spotted the Medjai commanders as he walked down the gangplank off the ship and weaved through the crowded pier. As he came closer, he immediately knew something was wrong with Ardeth, noticing the pale and withdrawn face, and how much weight he was taking off his injured leg. A grimace of pain that flashed over the usually stoic Medjai's face confirmed Rick's suspicion; a suspicion that he'd formulated back home on the first night of Ardeth's stay when he had asked his friend about the wound. At first he actually thought the exchange would be problem free, but his instincts were sending him warnings. He felt is if they were being watched and he scanned the surrounding buildings, looking for any perceived threats.
"O'Connell," Ardeth called out and the men exchanged greetings.
"Ardeth, Nabil, good to see you again," Rick said. "Too bad it couldn't be under different circumstances."
"Is the captain aware your boarding the ship again with some cargo?" Nabil asked.
"Yeah, we made the arrangements before I left," Rick frowned watching Ardeth who seemed incapable of following the conversation. "I guess now we just wait for the chest?"
"I'll send a man to check on the progress of the helpers," suggested Nabil and walked a few yards away, signaling to a nearby warrior.
"Ardeth?" Rick turned back to his friend. "Are you feeling okay?"
"I wish this was under different circumstances," Ardeth murmured regretfully and grasped Rick by the shoulders. "But my friend, you must listen to me carefully. No matter what may happen here, get the chest on the ship. Take it and get out of here, do not look back.for the love of Allah, I ask this of you."
"Trouble." It wasn't a question, it was a statement and Rick took that meaning from the look of desperation in the warrior's eyes, a look he never thought to see. "You need my help."
"La! No, I need you to leave here.my people are counting on you to complete this task." Ardeth closed his eyes as another shiver went through his body and then opened them a moment later. "As am I."
Rick gave a small humorless laugh. "What, something else that doesn't involve me?"
"Yes, something like that." Ardeth agreed with a feeble smile.
"The last time 'something' that didn't involve me came up, I got my ass kicked by Adham. That's something I'm not going to forget very easily."
"O'Connell."
"It's ok though, you win this round. I'll go be the good little errand boy like I should but," Rick paused, allowing just a hint of emotion to flare up in his eyes. "If I find out something happened to you, I'm coming back here. There won't be a rock big enough, a pyramid high enough or a camel fast enough to keep them from me."
He reached out his arm in a silent gesture and without hesitation, Ardeth gripped it around the forearm, as both men silently reinforced their friendship.
Nabil joined them a moment later and announced the helpers would arrive momentarily.
~*~
With a vicious twist of his knife, Kasim killed the Medjai warrior, his hand clamped over the man's mouth to muffle any cry of alarm, then let the limp body fall to the ground with a sickening thud. Twenty of his best riflemen had slowly circled the pier and were now positioned surrounding their quarry, lying in ambush on rooftops and behind vendor stalls. Five more of his men waited on horseback with Qutaybah's men, who were stationed just beyond the next street, watching for his signal to attack.
Kasim crept out from behind his concealment and peered around the corner of the building. He recognized the time had come to strike; the two warriors were conveniently standing with the American. He saw the helpers struggling as they walked up with the chest, seized the opportunity and gave his battle cry to attack.
The pier erupted in gunfire.
~*~
The first volley of bullets that sprayed through the air spurred Rick into action and he dove for cover behind a nearby wagon of cargo. Men on horseback stampeded through the street adding to the chaos as innocent spectators screamed in fear and scattered. Nabil threw himself to the opposite side, near the large stack of pallets but Ardeth was chased away from the dock area and out into a small open square. Immediately three men surrounded the commander and Rick could only watch helplessly as it became apparent Ardeth was fighting for his life.
He rolled over onto his knees and pulled out his pistols, returning as much gunfire as he could, glancing over to find Nabil in a similar situation. He was slowly being surrounded by five men as they advanced, swords drawn a ready for an attack. The warrior moved sideways, towards a woman who was screaming in terror and slowly pushed the resistant body behind him.
"Nabil!" Rick yelled and fired off a couple of rounds to help.
"La, help Ardeth," he answered and drew his scimitar. "Do it now!"
Rick swore under his breath but did as instructed and swung back towards his friend, only to be pinned down as another hails of bullets chipped off bits and pieces of wood from the wagon. He ducked for cover, and used that time to reload, then surfaced to fire again.
~*~
Nabil spun around and grabbed the woman by the shoulders with a rough shake, in an attempt to stop her hysterical screaming. Her eyes were wild with fright. Her hands were held out rigidly in front of her and he could see splatters of blood all over her shoulder and up onto her face. Blood no doubt from her red haired friend, killed instantly when a stray bullet lodged into her forehead.
"Do you want to live?" Nabil demanded harshly.
Her screaming suddenly stopped but without waiting for her reply, Nabil grabbed her hand and propelled her towards the stack of pallets. He threw her against them, then slammed his body against hers, effectively protecting her and surprising the English woman with the sudden contact.
She gasped and stared up at him. He saw shock and embarrassment in her eyes, but she grabbed onto his robe, craving the safety that came with his sudden almost intimate closeness.
"Move and you die. Stay behind me and you may live to greet another sunrise." Nabil ordered roughly and spun around again to meet the oncoming charge of an enemy.
His scimitar rang out with a metallic clang as it met the downward arc from the other man's sword in an upward swing as the warrior parried the vicious blow. He recovered from the block and with a few precise thrusts, ended the fight with a quick and deadly cut to the jugular. The man toppled to the ground as his life's blood poured from his slit throat.
There was no glory, no display of skill or even honor in the carnage that followed, as more men quickly replaced the one that had fallen.
Nabil's scimitar moved in a blur of sharp cuts and flashing steel, the sunlight glancing off the once silver blade that was now tinged ruby red. The woman clung to him in silent desperation, her whimpers of horror somehow heard above the grunts and groans of the dying. Her grasp hampered his movements.
When he dispatched the last man, there was only a blessed moment to recoup his strength and he turned back towards the woman, pressing himself against her body and pushing her further into the pallets. He heard the small groan of pain she held back and for a moment, he regretted any injury he may have caused.
Nabil started to warn her again but suddenly her eyes shifted over his shoulder and widened in alarm. He reacted without thought and shoved her to the ground, pushing her down to her knees, then covering her trembling body with his own as bullets splintered the wood overhead.
"Please," he ordered urgently in her ear. "Do not move."
When the shooting had stopped, he jumped up to face a new charge from the enemy, leaving the woman cowering on the ground to watch the men fighting, an expression of horror on her already pale face.
Nabil had fought as valiantly as possible but the constant struggle was beginning to wear on the commander and his arm grew weak from the ringing blows of his opponents. Fighting one man had turned into fighting four and his lip curled back with a defiant sneer when more men came to the aid of their brethren.
Legs braced apart, chest heaving from the toll of the battle, Nabil stood like an avenging god of war, defiant and beckoning those who were brave enough to come forward.
"Who else wishes to feel the bite of my blade?" he taunted and vaguely thought of his oath.
Till death.
His attackers paused for a moment, fear and disbelief written plainly on their faces, and signs of a grudging respect for the lone Medjai that had single-handedly killed so many of their own. The scales in the balance tipped precariously to one side, then tipped back the other way. From the crowd of men emerged the muzzle of a gun, then a white puff of smoke billowing into the blue sky.
The bullet ripped into Nabil's shoulder, spinning the warrior off balance even as his body tried to compensate from the momentum. He staggered, but still remained on his feet.
The enemy recovered from their initial surprise, charged forward with a ringing battle cry and within moments, Nabil collapsed under their onslaught. The Medjai was finally down and was taken captive.
~*~
Olivia cringed on the ground, her hand covering her mouth, quietly sobbing with fright from what she had just witnessed. There was blood everywhere, on her clothes, her hair, mingling with sand and changing it into an ever- increasing maroon colored circle. She wanted to close her eyes, block out the sight of so many men being killed and to stop seeing her rescuer gunned down.
She watched them pick up the limp, black clad body and carry it away, her numb mind not registering they were coming for her until it was too late.
They reached for her, with evil smiles and rough hands, jerking her to her feet and pulling her away from the sanctuary of the pallets. They pushed off her hat and her hair came cascading down, shining like beaten gold in the sunlight and they touched it, pawed at it until a terse command was issued.
Olivia found her voice at the last moment. And she screamed for her husband over and over, fighting, kicking, and scratching at her captors until she was backhanded across the face. Dazed, she was pulled up onto a horse and was quickly taken away from the port.
~*~
"Damn it!" Rick bellowed, and ducked behind the wagon to reload his guns. So far, his helping Ardeth had been minimal, only being able to stop more men from joining the existing fight. Every time he had another within his sites, it seemed as if the enemy knew it and kept up a constant barrage of bullets effectively pinning him down.
He moved to another section behind the wagon and peered out, his eyes widening in shock when he saw how poorly the warrior was fighting.
Whereas once he had seen Ardeth move in battle with a feline grace and agility, now his movements were sluggish and choppy, the weight of his scimitar seemingly too much for his arm to wield. The body that should have been fluid in motion and form now seemed awkward and lethargic, covered with a small number of cuts. A glaring indication that all was not well with him.
Rick couldn't help but wince along with Ardeth when a man came in too high with a thrust from his sword, slashing a bloody red line across the forearm. In retaliation, Rick fired his guns and felt the first twinge of satisfaction when one man finally went down.
Two men left and Ardeth was fighting worse than ever.
O'Connell ducked behind the wagon when gunfire made him scramble for cover but he twisted back out and fired in return.
One man left and this one was stubborn, dancing safely away from Ardeth's limited range with clearly no intention of letting the Medjai come in too close.
O'Connell watched as his friend overcompensated for this and moved awkwardly into the direction of a thrust towards the Medjai's exposed side. Rick reacted without thinking and heedless of his own safety, rolled away from the cover of the wagon, and to his knees firing off several shots. The man finally fell to the ground, leaving the warrior standing alone if not somewhat unsteady on his feet.
Suddenly, a rider came up from behind Ardeth and with malicious precision, took careful aim with his rifle.
Rick saw the threat and screamed a warning for his friend, but in his heart he already knew it was too late.
He saw Ardeth spin slowly around and face the enemy, his scimitar almost hanging uselessly from his hand, his body swaying as he fought to remain standing. Rick jumped up and started running, his legs feeling like they were mired in mud, his guns firing the remaining bullets as his fingers pressed the trigger over and over. They continued clicking until the barrels were empty but O'Connell still charged forward, intent on saving his friend even at the cost of his own life.
A white puff of smoke erupted from the rifle and a second later, Ardeth's body crumpled to the ground, his body crashing to its side and lying there as his robes slowly settled like a black shroud around him.
Rick heard someone screaming and dimly realized it was him, calling Ardeth's name over and over in disbelief, praying to God that his friend was alive. He never saw the rifle raised again, nor did he see the warning of the smoke to herald the arrival of the next bullet. It slammed into his shoulder, knocked him off his feet and he landed with a heavy thud onto the sand, only a few feet way from the Medjai.
Intense pain swept over him, almost paralyzing his mind, but certainly not stopping his body and Rick moved forward a fraction of an inch. His hand was outstretched in the sand, reaching, wanting to touch and confirm that Ardeth still lived.
"Ardeth!" He cried and moved again.
Through blurred vision, he saw the pier empty of its combatants, bodies picked up and carried away and he vaguely heard someone yell "Medjai." None of that mattered to him now and he crawled forward again, fingertips almost touching Ardeth's shoulder.
Two figures suddenly materialized from the hazy edges of his eyesight and one bent over the fallen body of the commander, a hand reaching down and checking for any signs of life.
"Tell me," Rick groaned. "Tell me he's alive."
He saw the negative shake of the head and over the roaring in his ears, he heard the anguished reply.
"There is nothing that can be done. Nothing."
"No."
They scurried around and quickly picked up the limp body, Ardeth's dark head rolling to the side, and they carried him away.
"No." He watched them disappear back into the misty edges of his eyesight and still he struggled to see where they were taking his friend. He tried to move once more, but his body slumped weakly to the ground.
"No."
"Commander, over here." A new voice called out and Rick rolled over onto his back, waiting to see if this new person was friend or foe. All around him, he had the vague sensation of black clad men running through the area and wondered if this was a rescue.
"O'Connell?" Asked another voice and Rick found himself staring up into the face of an older warrior, his beard sprinkled with gray, the same crescent tattoos on a face that looked reminiscent of Ardeth's.
"Who.the hell wants to know?" Rick gasped.
"I am Commander Quadamah of the Fourth. What in the name of Allah has happened here?"
Rick rolled his head to one side, staring at the spot on the ground where the body of his friend had once laid. He was losing his grip on consciousness and he whispered one final sentence before finally passing out.
"They killed him," he said. "Ardeth Bay . is. dead."