Chap 9: Right-Oh, No Pressure
Reed motioned silently to Trip as they left the Ambassador's sedan and made their way by foot hundred meters or so to the small, squat building sitting by itself in the almost pitch black clearing. It looked non-descript enough, but there was no way to tell how many insurgents it contained. There were lights on inside, but no discernible movements. Again Reed had that nagging feeling that they could very well be too late. He motioned Trip to position himself on the other side of the main door, then counted down silently with his fingers. On his signal, together they stormed the door of the hideout, pistols drawn.
Two Avdevis lay on the floor, unconscious or dead, he couldn't tell. He kicked their weapons away from them. In the next room, another Avdevi was sprawled in the box they recognized as Archer's cell. He was unarmed. The captain was nowhere to be seen. The relaxed their weapons and began checking the room more closely. Trip leafed through the documents strewn across the table as Reed quickly checked what seemed to be a storage room in the cellar. The room was filled with weapons, both pistols and huge anti-aircraft-type guns, all laid out precisely, grouped by category on the floor. He climbed back up the stairs and found Trip.
"Reed to T'Pol. The captain isn't here. We're starting a search of the perimeter."
T'Pol answered evenly, "Lieutenant, Caicpwat fd Eeshon has been captured by government forces. I strongly suggest you find the captain before the Pindad do."
"Right-oh, no pressure," Reed muttered as he closed his communicator. Trip, standing near the outside door, motioned to Reed with a jerk of his head. There, just outside in the muddy path, caught in the beam of Trip's flashlight, was a partial print of a bare human foot.
"You think he went into the jungle?" Reed asked.
"I'd bet my life on it," Trip said. "No way he'd want to stay out in the open." They moved out toward the forest cautiously. As they reached the tree line, there was a sound behind them, and they turned to see the Avdevi guard who had been in the white cell now standing framed in the doorway. He held a small device in his hands. Both officers reached for their pistols, but it wasn't necessary. There was a click, and the entire front façade exploded.
The blast knocked both men off their feet. Trip landed hard on his backside, yelling in pain. "Motherfu--!"
Reed instantly flashed back to what he had seen in the cellar and looked at Trip. "Run!" he shouted.
They both sprinted hell-for-leather into the rainforest. Behind them, fire engulfed the little building, and the fireworks began as the ammunition and explosives stored there went up. Flaming missiles pelted through the trees, and they ducked as they ran for cover. The leaves and brush were just wet enough that the whole forest didn't go up in a huge conflagration, but pockets of flame still dotted the forest floor before they were snuffed out by lack of dry fuel.
Eventually, Reed stopped, panting, and Trip pulled up beside him. "Remind me never to bet against you," Reed commented. Trip grinned. They both still had their weapons, and Trip had somehow managed to keep a grip on his flashlight. Reed pulled his torch out as well, and they surveyed their position.
"Well, so much for those great tracks," Reed said. He unclipped the unwieldy transmitter that Hoshi had liberated from the crashed vehicle and turned it on. "At least we can figure out if we're even in the right vicinity." It beeped a few times, and Reed handed it to Trip. "Here, you're more mechanically inclined than I," he said.
Trip found the signal easily, but without the map, which they had left with Levral in the Ambassador's sedan, the coordinates meant nothing. "Anyway, he's around here somewhere." He picked a direction at random and began walking.
The rainforest swallowed them whole. Trip walked parallel to Reed, about ten meters away, searching for broken branches, crushed leaves, any sign that Archer had passed by. He moved slowly, almost silently. He found it unsettling that there were no night sounds, no birds or crickets or anything. A similar environment on Earth would be cacophonous with life.
He stepped forward, then felt a strong push at the small of his back. He landed with a curse face first in the ripe underbrush, his cheek pressed into the slimy leaves. His phase pistol landed just out of his reach. In the split second it took to get his bearings and begin to rise, he felt something heavy fall across his neck, constricting his windpipe. And then the muzzle of a gun pressed firmly against his temple. He could feel the hum of the energy coursing through it.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the dark shadow of a grimly set, familiar face. Not a glimmer of recognition flickered there. He couldn't draw enough breath to call out to Reed. He could only croak, weakly, "Captain. . ."
The knee at his throat shifted slightly, but the gun never moved. He tried again, stronger this time, "Captain, it's me, Trip . . . Cap'n . . .Cap'n, it's Trip . . . Jon?"
Finally, slowly, the pressure at his temple eased, and Archer slid down to sit on the ground, his wrist resting on his raised knee. Trip rolled over onto his back, keeping his hands as much in plain sight as the inky darkness would allow. Reed approached and illuminated them both with his flashlight.
Archer shook his head slightly as he gave an ironic snort and remarked, "I can't believe . . . she sent the Disaster Twins to rescue me . . ."
The phase pistol was still pointed squarely in Trip's direction.
"Captain, here, let us help you," Reed said softly, eyes on the phase pistol, as he took a step forward. "Give me the pistol, sir."
Archer's face was a study in exhaustion. In the torch beam, the officers could see the deep cuts and scratches from the crash on his face. Beads of blood-tinged sweat rolled from his brow, and he tried to blink them out of his eyes. He glanced down at the weapon, then back up at Trip. The pistol stayed trained on the engineer. Archer was silent.
Finally, Trip leaned forward slowly and grasped the captain's left hand, aiming the phase pistol off to the side. There was no resistance. He gently pried open Archer's locked fingers, one by one, and laid the weapon carefully on the ground. He wrapped his friend's hand in both of his. "We found you," he said simply. "It's okay now." His body eloquent with utter fatigue, Archer let his forehead rest gratefully against Trip's shoulder, his reserves gone.
"Reed to T'Pol." The lieutenant's voice was remarkably steady.
"T'Pol here."
"We have the captain. It's going to take us a bit of time to get him back to the transport. Make sure Levral stays where he is."
"What is the captain's condition?" T'Pol asked.
Reed eyed Archer, who lifted his chin in a pitifully unconvincing attempt to show that he could still move under his own power. "Get Phlox."
T'Pol was waiting at door of the medical facility when Levral smoothly landed the Ambassador's sedan. Her impassive face betrayed no emotion, yet Trip noticed that from the moment the captain was carried into the hospital from the transport, she never left his side.
Now that the adrenaline rush that had kept him going for the past several days was subsiding, the captain began to succumb to the siren call of oblivion. He searched the alien faces hovering above him for the one that would make it okay to relinquish his tenuous hold on reality. Finally, she appeared, all cool competence and unflappability. He watched, amused in one corner of his brain, as she pointedly ignored all polite suggestions that she wait outside the examination room. As protocol forbade the doctors to move her physically, as if they ever could, she simply stayed, bending near as he wet his lips and drew a shallow breath. Too drained for extended conversation, he simply asked his First Officer, "Everybody okay?" and the thinness of his voice startled her.
"All hands are accounted for and safe," she assured him with her usual matter-of-fact tone. He pinned her with a gaze that clearly said, And? She knew he would keep asking until she gave him a political update as well. She offered the abbreviated version. "Furthermore, all of the top leaders of the Pindad movement have been taken into custody." Archer gave a satisfied nod, and, for the first time in more than five days, drifted off into a natural sleep.
She would explain later about the dozens of riots that had erupted on each of the three inhabited continents, incited by Pindad forces, to prime the population for the coup de grace, his public execution. Later, he could see the news footage of the forceful containment of those riots, martial law imposed, resulting in hundreds of civilian casualties. But not right now.
The Avdevi physicians debated amongst themselves for several hours regarding the proper course of treatment. Their patient was at once starved, dehydrated, exhausted, fractured, and concussed, and they knew that if he suffered any further damage at their hands, the precarious peace that still held by a thread would be shattered. Ultimately, the Avdevi doctors reported that they could only make Archer comfortable until Dr. Phlox, with his encyclopedic knowledge of human anatomy, arrived on-planet to escort the patient home.
The Denobulan doctor looked appalled as he surveyed the damage. "The head injury and broken ribs will heal in a short time," he said brusquely, his expression dark," but the captain is extremely lucky those shots from that Avdevi phase pistol didn't stop his heart. I will be very glad to get him to Sickbay."
Relinquishing the captain to the care of the doctor she trusted, T'Pol stepped aside to speak with the Ambassador. "What will happen to Eeshon and the Pindad now?"
The Ambassador folded his hands. "Caicpwat fd Eeshon and his co-conspirators will be tried for treason and murder. It is unlikely they will ever see the light of day again. The Prime Minister has already vowed to introduce legislation to deal with the situation. I have no doubt her solution will include a second diaspora to dilute the power of the lower caste tribes." He lowered his voice. "But approximately one hour ago, the new leadership of the Pindad made a formal request for an audience with your Starfleet, a political petition I shall pursue myself. Once that audience is granted, if it is, diplomatic authority will override domestic. I expect any such legislation will be put on hold, indefinitely. Such is the painted face we present to the rest of the galaxy." He shrugged, looking almost human as he did so. "You see, protocol does sometimes have its uses."