Needing a Rescue

Chapter 19

Fi, Sam and Roberto were in the middle of the Tampa Wetlands, where Mangrove trees grew high and thick. Gideon Hunter, aka The Butcher had given them precise directions as to where Michael was being held captive.

Sam could feel the humidity in the air as they began trekking towards the building in the middle of the marshlands.

"Only one thing worse than walking in the evening," Sam said, as he got out his handkerchief to wipe the wetness from his brow, "it's walking in the evening in the rain-forest."

"Not rain-forest, mi amigo; this called wetlands, " corrected Roberto as he trudged in the heat, "there is difference."

"Tomato, tomato. What's the difference?" Sam asked, "both places are full of tall trees and as humid as a sauna…Crap! It's so hot here, my sweat just started sweating!"

The humidity did not seem to bother Fi at all. She had determination written on her face. At one point she chose to stop walking and the two men also halted their steps.

"I'll go into hiding and be your cover while you two check the front of the building," Fi announced, her hand fingering her Mossberg.

"Oh? So we are the ones who get to be target practice?" asked Sam, "thanks a lot, Fi."

Fi turned to Sam, her eyes set with conviction.

"Well, Sam, you could be the one perched up on the tree, holding a Mossberg Rifle with scope," suggested Fi, "..but...oh... wait...you can't climb the tree because of your poor leg, can you?"

"Hey! Be sensitive about my leg! I'm devastated I've ruined my Olympic chances!" Sam responded.

"And which sport would you have entered, Sam?" Fi asked, "Curling?"

"I'll have you know, sister," said Sam trying to sound dignified, "that I've always been good at mopping my kitchen floor!"

Fi tried not to roll her eyes as she left Sam and Roberto to plan out their strategy.

"So what is our plan once we get to the building, Amigo?" Roberto asked as he got out his gun.

This may sound crazy," Sam stated, "but I propose we open the door and go inside. What do you think?"

"I think, mi amigo," Roberto said, "That you stopped to think, but forgot to start again."

As they approached the chain blocking the entrance, they merely lifted their legs over it, ignoring the "No Trespassing" sign. Mangrove trees were on either side of them. The road wasn't paved here, merely marshy dirt.

Sam and Roberto continued walking, their shoes made squishy sounds due to the saturated ground. Up ahead, through all the dense vegetation, the dilapidated one story building loomed ahead.

"Senorita Fiona is some woman," Roberto commented as they continued walking, "She have no fear."

Sam walked a ways before he answered, "Fi is strong and independent, but she's vulnerable in some areas, just like the rest of us."

Roberto looked at Sam, a big smile spread on his face, "Ah, I see! So you two do bickering on the outside, but inside, you two are muy simpatico!"

"Let's just put it this way," Sam analogized, "If I ever got in trouble, she would not be one of those annoying people who'll ask if there's anything they can do. Fi will already be doing something about it, and that 'it' would end up being shot or blown up to pieces, too!"

"Ahhh," Roberto nodded understandably, "Any friend that use explosives to help you is friend to keep!"

They walked up to a large tree and hid behind it.

Sam wiped some sweat from his brow as he felt the sweltering heat, "Man, I feel like putting a heater on my forehead just to cool off!"

"This is nothing in comparison to back home, mi amigo" Roberto said, referring to Mexico, "over there, when a dog chase a cat, they are both walking!"

Sam looked at his good friend, not sure if he was jesting or not.

From behind the tree Sam and Roberto observed any going ons from the building. It was still a distance away, but now they could clearly make out the structure with a line of shrubs surrounding it. No sign of people could be seen yet.

Roberto quietly pointed at a lone tree near the entrance of the building. A security camera was situated up in the branches of that tree. Another camera was aimed at the entrance.

"Do you see what I see?" Roberto inquired, his voice lowered.

"I see that," nodded Sam, "seems to me that's pretty strict security…for an abandoned building in the jungle."

" …Not jungle, wetlands," Roberto corrected Sam again. "So you think the camera already show we are here? Do you think there are many agents around?"

"Probably, " Sam said, taking in the area surrounding the building, "all I know is that we should never underestimate the power of stupid, bad people in numbers."

Roberto nudged Sam at the sound of a vehicle coming to them from the right, "Psst! Amigo! Looks like we have company!"

A black Cadillac Escalade pulled up to them. Sam and Roberto put away their weapons, so as not to seem threatening.

Two men in suits got out. One was a heavyset man in a brown suit with a crewcut and a big, angular face. The other had a gray suit and looked like Steven Segal with thick wavy hair and a ragged face. They walked right up to Sam and Roberto.

"Who are you two, and what are you doing on these premises?" demanded Crewcut, "This is private property. "

Segal Wannabe didn't say anything, but his folded arms let them know they weren't welcome.

Sam pointed to Steven Segal Wannabe, "So this is the only job you could get after your last direct-to-video movie?"

Segal Wannabe scowled, "What the hell you talking about?"

Roberto nodded, "Si! Yes! I get it! Steven Segal!" he grinned, as he turned to Segal Wannabe, "It's been downhill for you since 'Exit Wounds', no?"

Crewcut and Segal Wannabe exchanged glances. Crewcut reached in his jacket and produced a gun.

"Don't move, while my celebrity partner searches you," said Crewcut sarcastically.

Segal Wannabe patted down Roberto first and then Sam.

"Careful, there," warned Sam, "If I wanted someone groping me down there without looking at me, I'd be married."

The two criminal agents were able to find Sam and Roberto's weapons and took them as their own. Crewcut still had his gun trained on Sam and Roberto as Segal Wannabe grabbed Roberto's arm, "I think we should take a ride together."

Out of nowhere, there was the ringtone music with Barry Manilow singing "I Can't Smile Without You." Crewcut, Segal Wannabe and Roberto looked around, as if the song was magically coming from the air.

"Sorry, that's me…" " said an embarrassed Sam as he took out his phone.

"Really, my friend?" asked Roberto, "Barry Manilow?"

"Which part of 'sorry' didn't you understand?" Sam asked.

"And of all his songs you pick cheesiest one of all?" Roberto asked, "I mean, 'I Can't Smile Without You?"

"What can I say?" Sam said, "That song is a classic for all denture wearers."

"Shut up and gimme that!" Crewcut said as he grabbed the phone away from Sam.

"Good that you took the phone away," said Sam, "I saw the ID on the screen, and it's for the two of you, anyway."

The thugs thought Sam was kidding and just stared at him.

"Go ahead," Sam stated invitingly, "Just press the conference button."

With a frown, Segal Wannabe, looked at the display on the phone and pushed the correct button.

"Hey!" he spoke into the speaker, "Who the hell is this?"

A female voice stated loud and clear, "Chrome, military style lettering with the engraved words CIA in white on black background."

It was Fi, of course.

"Huh?" Segal Wannabe reacted, looking questionably at his partner who lifted his shoulders in a wondering gesture.

Fi spoke again.

"I can see your belt buckle through my rifle scope, although I am aiming three inches lower…at a much smaller target…"

Four pair of eyes dropped towards the guy's buckle, with Segal Wannabe looking bug-eyed.

"Mi Amigo," jested Roberto to Sam, "I not know what military style lettering look like until now!"

"Don't count that buckle as official," claimed Sam, as Roberto nodded knowingly, "I think it's a knock-off."

Segal Wannabe and Crewcut still looked puzzled at the cellphone.

"Ask her what she wants!" Crewcut demanded of Sam.

"I can hear you, you know," she said through the speaker, "and what I want is for both of you to have a better sense of fashion," she drolly stated through the phone, "Brown belts with black shoes? That is so last season."

Roberto smiled as he turned to Sam and whispered, "Your friend Fi? She is not only beautiful but good eye for fashion, no?"

"Yeah, but don't underestimate her, Roberto, " Sam whispered back, "she can get crazy...and what I mean by that is, bats in the belfry crazy when it comes to getting Michael back."

Roberto nodded knowingly once more.

.

.

(Meanwhile inside the facility…)

Michael was alone in the locked room for the past 20 minutes, for Rugova was taking bathroom privileges. As Michael was doing his sit ups, the door opened. The breakfast trays arrived and with them, Dimitri Rugova. Michael stood up.

Rugova grunted at Michael, but did not speak in the guard's presence. When the guard had left, slamming the door behind him, both prisoners grabbed their trays of bread, cheese and an apple along with a tin cup of water.

"Good morning," Rugova stated politely, as if they were at a soiree, not in a locked room, "I tell you something I know... tonight, Estes returns."

Michael scowled as he tasted his bread, "Who?"

Rugova ripped his cheese, "You do not know of this Cade Estes? He runs this whole operation."

So now the "General" had a name. Michael was grateful for that.

"What kind of operation?" Michael asked, "Drug trafficking, gun smuggling, murder?"

Rugova shrugged his shoulders, implying that it was all three, and perhaps more. "You name it, if it's illegal, he have done it. But do not knock it, my friend… Estes help make me very rich."

"Except, how do you sleep at nights?" Michael asked, as he took a bite of the apple.

Rugova ignored that question as he drank some water.

"So why did you tell me about Estes?" asked Michael.

"Simple," stated Rugova casually, howbeit, now in hushed tones, "I tell you so you might move up your escape plan. In return, I ask when you hit me with desk rock, you do not hit me here," he pointed to the back of his skull, "Old war wound here."

So Rugova knew Michael had a hidden weapon. Michael didn't show his surprise, although he was stunned, "Desk rock? You mean the paperweight? So you knew all along. You've searched my mattress while I was taking my bathroom break," Michael accused him.

"As a spy you must learn to trust no one," Rugova said adding, "I have learn that lesson myself…You must keep in mind that I will be in the search party that will hunt you down after you escape."

Michael thought about this and nodded, "Then I suppose I should hope not to get caught?"

Rugova's response was grave, "If they catch you, you may talk. This will not be good for me. I could not afford to let you survive. "

Michael knew what Rugova meant.

"So why did you not report me earlier?" Michael inquired, "Why even risk trying to help me?"

Rugova smiled, "When I first see you, I think, this man is too weak, he is useless. I had no expectations in your…how you say…possibilities.I know your reputation, but I only see a badly wounded man. But now I think to myself this Westen is very resourceful. You see me to be fraud. You help me to relieve pain. You have escape plan. Resourceful? Yes, I see that now."

Michael nodded.

"Thank you," He responded appreciatively.

Rugova reciprocated with an understanding nod of his own, "So we will part ways soon. After rock hit my head, we no longer to be friends."

"And by you telling me about Estes, we are considered even," Mike surmised, "I guess now you can sleep at nights again."

"Yes, " he agreed, "…so now I can sleep at nights again..

A spy learned long ago that friend and enemy can be one of the same. It's just a matter of timing.

They both heard a key being inserted in the lock. Looking towards the door, they saw the man Rugova identified as Estes enter with one of the other CIA suited men, who was there to remove the trays.

Upon entering, Rugova merely grunted and brought out a tattered, outdated magazine to look at in order to seem oblivious to what was happening. When the agent came over to take away the tray, Michael grabbed the tin cup that had been filled with water,

"If you don't mind," said Michael, "I haven't finished my water as of yet."

The other agent looked over at Estes who nodded that it was fine and the other agent took up the trays. Once that agent had left and locked the door, Estes turned to Michael.

"I have decided," announced Estes, "That while we are waiting for the appearance of Miss Fiona Glenanne-yes, I have been able to discovered her full identity...I will see what other information I can retrieve from you —over in the other room. "

Michael didn't know why, but the weaker of his two legs started throbbing, as if it had a memory of its own. Then he realized that his whole body was responding to Estes' voice, for his voice sounded reminded Michael of the torture he had suffered at the hands of evil, how that very voice threatened Michael that he may not walk out alive.

As Michael brought the tin cup to his lips, he could not keep the cup steady. His hand was trembling slightly. Then due to the shaky grip, the cup slipped from his hand and it hit the floor quickly and rolled away from him.

Rugova, playing his part, did not even look up at the clanging noise the cup made.

Estes smiled, knowing it was his comment that made Michael jittery, "Nervous, are you Westen? You have a reason to be...now, we can go cooperatively together, or I can force you to go in the next room. It is no matter to me."

Michael knew if he ever was to go willingly in that other room, he would never have the strength to make his escape.

"I choose to go of my own free will," Michael finally decided, "but just to let you know, I have eaten my entire dinner, so it the clean up may not be a pretty sight."

The smirk Estes had plastered on his face was now gone. He, unfortunately, had forgotten about that minor detail, "You are clever with your games of delay, Westen, yet you do have a point. Perhaps we should let your food settle a bit before we have our little 'chat'. I will be back in an hour"

Estes walked to the door and knocked. An anonymous agent entered, ready to do Estes' bidding.

"Pick up the cup and wipe the floor...Westen spilled a little water," Estes commanded, before exiting the room and the sound of the door being locked could be heard.

The assigned agent did not look happy as he wordlessly bent down to pick up the cup from the ground. And that's when Michael took action.

From behind his back, Michael took out the heavy paperweight and hit the guard as hard as he could on the back of his head in the most vulnerable area. The agent guard collapsed at once, falling to the ground like a pile of laundry.

After the guard was knocked out, Rugova looked up from his magazine at last and viewed the fallen body. His face was expressionless.

"What now?" Rugova asked evenly.

Michael plucked the key from the agents belt and put them in his pocket.

"I yell for the other guard to come and I will try my skill with the paperweight once more."

For some reason, that made Rugova grin.

"That will make you addicted to hitting all men on head!" said Rugova, in his first attempt at humor.

Michael appreciated the jesting and smiled, "It may at that."

He watched Michael moving the fallen guard's arms around, "So what is happening now?"

"I'm arranging him in a more sprawled position…" Michael explained, although in his weakened state, it was hard for him to do it singlehandedly.

"Do you think you can help me?" Michael asked.

"No, I not help," Rugova shook his head, "Remember? I am here to overlook what you do."

"I should be grateful for the little things, I suppose, " responded Michael as sweat appeared on his forehead. Soon he finished rearranging the body to his satisfaction. He felt exhausted, but his adrenaline started to kick in. He had to hurry; he would not get a chance like this again.

He quickly went over to the door.

"Hey! Hellooo, somebody out there!" Michael yelled, "Come quickly!"

Footsteps could be heard and a key going into the lock. The door was pushed open and a guard entered. Michael was not strong enough to overpower a trained agent, but having a heavy object hitting an unsuspecting victim pretty much evened up the field.

The guard entered and looked at his colleague's body on the floor, "What happened here?"

"I think the guy...suffered some type of a heart attack!" Michael exclaimed as he pointed to the fallen body.

While the guard bent over to examine the body, Michael stepped forward and hit him hard with the paperweight. The guard also sank into a heap.

Rugova looked at Michael's handiwork, "You are quite fun to watch," he commented.

.

.

.

This week's "Nate" episode was heartbreaking to watch. Hope this helped eased the sadness!

Please review