Agent out of Time (The Agents for Good) (12 page)

It was time to leave. I un-slung my rifle and headed out of the cell, as Trent followed with Deshavi. The corridor had gotten darker. It must be night outside now. On second thought I re-shouldered my rifle and pulled out my pistol with a silencer instead. Let’s see how long we could stretch out not alerting anyone to our presence.

I almost came out of my skin at the feeling of something touching my leg. My finger was tight on the trigger, as I took aim at the shadowy outline reaching out from the cell to weakly grasp at my leg. The voice that followed was but a rough whisper of sound, in the stillness of the cellblock, “Kill me.”

“Soon.” Was all I responded with and the grasp on my leg was released.

I stepped more toward the center of the aisle and continued on down the hall. I drilled the guard coming around a corner and later two more guards, as were they were lounging in an office type room. We were out of the cellblock and more into the administrative side of the prison. I opened a door and literally stepped out into the chill of the outside night air. I held the door for Trent, as I looked around. It couldn’t be this easy could it?

There was nothing wrong with having it easy, but it was almost never like this, which caused me to distrust how easy it had been to get Deshavi. We made our way down from the installations of the prison to the old pit floor of the copper mine uncontested.

We made our way down along the edge of the high wall in the darkness, as above us the last glimmer of twilight was fading fast. We passed a darker passageway in the high wall that let off a horrific stench. It was likely that they used the old tunnel for the disposal of bodies. Rounding a corner I could see the illuminated rode up out of the pit. It was heavily guarded.

It would be a firefight, if we tried to get out through that way and I wasn’t going to risk Deshavi like that. That meant that Plan B was in effect. I un-slung my heavy pack and unsnapped the grapple gun from it. I looked upwards to judge the height of the high wall. I placed it at about 60 feet high and I had 80 feet of rope to go with the grappling hook.

The hook would overshoot the edge by 10 feet or so leaving me with 5 to 10 feet of extra rope. It was enough, but way too close for comfort. One of us would have to climb up the rope and then secure it better. Then pull up Deshavi and toss the rope down to the remaining individual. It wouldn’t be easy, but it would work. I set the grapple gun firmly against the pit floor bottom and angled it upward.

Alarms rang out into the night echoing a dirge that I’d been expecting long before now. The entire pit lit up like a baseball park. They had work light display carriages parked intermittently all along the rim of the pit. The light shined down on us with a brilliant intensity.

We were sharply outlined against the dark rock; it would only be a matter of seconds before they spotted us. There was no time for all of us to climb up the rope, maybe not even enough time for any of us. We would have to fight our way out unless…..

I glanced up at a slight projection from the high wall above, where a steel pole stuck out at an angle. It had some kind of communication display on top of it. Slightly further along the edge was one of the light display carts, which looked relatively heavy.

“Come on!” I called to Trent, as I rushed across the pit to the side that had the steel pole.

He followed at a run. Each of our packs and assorted gear were pushing 100 pounds and he was caring Deshavi too, but as it was he still beat me to the other side. I jammed the grapple gun down and took aim and shot it off. The grapple hook sailed up into the air and over the bent over steel pole to land, with a crash of broken glass, onto the light display cart.

I’d scored a direct hit!

I tugged on the rope, but it was secure. Adrenaline pumping through my veins I quickly secured Trent to the left over line of rope. He stared at me his face tight with anxiety for the woman he held safe within his arms. He gave me a look of surprise, as I unclipped the explosive round grenade gun from his pack. His eyes drifted upward.

“You’re crazy!” He boomed out in exclamation.

Maybe so, but it was the best idea I could come up with at the time. I brought the short gun up and fired. The explosive shell crashed into the bank of the edge of the pit right beneath the light cart poised on the edge above. Dirt fell away from the edge, even as bullets began to whine and ricochet off the rocks all around us. I stood steady and still; however, as I picked my target spots on the bank above.

At the impact of my last explosive shell a good bit of dirt caved into the pit. One of the cart tires fell in to the dip I had created. For a moment nothing happened and then I saw the cart teeter slightly. I dropped the gun and lunged for the end of the grapple rope my hands quickly snapping a rock climbing carabineer attached to my waist belt to the loop at the end of the rope.

The light cart toppled over the edge toward the pit floor below. The extra slack was jerked out of the rope and we were abruptly hauled up the pit side, as the grapple rope sawed around the base of the bent over steel pole. It was a classic dumb waiter system gone terribly wrong.

As the cart crashed to the pit floor below us there was a sharp jolt, as our rapid progress upward abruptly halted. All breath had been knocked out of me and I was light headed, as a result of it. In my disorientation I realized that I was head down and slowly I tried to write the situation. Pulling myself erect, as I hung in midair I glanced up to see Trent muscle himself and Deshavi up over the rim of the pit wall. Oh to be young again and be able to muscle your way out of a tight situation.

I started pulling myself up the pit wall, as I walked up the rope line. It was tough going and glancing up it was with relief that I saw Trent brace himself against the rim’s edge and start hauling me up hand over hand, in a display of his own adrenaline charged intensity. I did my best to help him, as my feet found purchase on the rocky side of the pit wall.

The attack on us had lulled at the sight of our astonishing escape upwards from the pit floor, but now, as Trent hauled me upwards it started back up with a vengeance. Bullets ricocheted off all around us and sped off into the night whining angrily.

My face stung from where chips of rock had been embedded into it and any moment I expected to feel the slam of bullets into me, but it didn’t happen. Trent jerked me up and over the rim and together we dove down to the ground, as bullets peppered the stones of the rim of the pit just beyond us. Trent was out of breath and laughing hysterically in between deep gulps for air.

I caught sight of Deshavi’s wide-eyed stare at both of us from her concealed cocoon. What must she be thinking of all this?

“That was crazy! What comes next grandpa?” Trent asked, smacking my shoulder hard.

“Keeping a promise.” I huffed out in response, as I pulled the small detonator control out of a pocket, and without pause I armed it and hit the button.

The wooden crates erupted with a seismic boom, which was followed closely by an insane inferno of concussive force, as the initial explosions ignited the fuel tanks. The entire pit filled with flame, as the prison itself was torn apart by further secondary explosions.

All enemy firing upon us had ceased. It was time to go. I rolled over onto my knees and got my feet under me. Flames still licked above the edge of the rim, as the prison burned like a glimpse into the burning lake of fire.

Back away from the rim was a cleared off space complete with a chain-link fence about 100 yards off from us. We headed out for the fence and before long we reached it. I started feeling around trying to remember where the chain-link cutters had been stashed on my pack.

“Oh for the love of mercy!” I grumbled out, as my searching hands came up empty.

I felt a tug on my pack, as Trent pulled the cutters free. He dangled them in front of me and I snatched them from him with a grumbled, “Thank you.”

I snipped all the way down the chain-link fence, as Trent waited patiently. I pulled one flap of the chain-link fence back for him to go through. There was a sign affixed on the other side of the chain-link fence that arrested my attention. Something of my tensed state must’ve registered to Trent, because he stopped and his eyes went to the sign. He may not of known Russian to speak, but he had no problem with being able to discern the universal symbology displayed on the sign. The sign was a minefield warning.

Trent and I glanced at each other meaningfully and then together we glanced back over the cleared off expanse we had just trotted across.

“Hallelujah!” Trent said thickly.

“And praises to His mighty Name!” I echoed in affirmative agreement with Trent.

Very carefully we both stepped through the fence and into the dark confines of the forest, as the moon came out overhead. It was hard to see and we both stumbled not a few times, but we kept going as we needed distance between us and any possible pursuit of us in the morning.

Chapter Eleven

Southward Bound

Trent doggedly refused my offers to help with Deshavi, as he held on to her jealously. At dawn’s first glow I made him stop to rest. I set my pack down on the ground with relief. It was too much weight for anyone to be caring around for hours on end let alone a man of my years.

It was with pride that I acknowledged that I wasn’t entirely over the hill yet. In an hour’s time I’d pick it back up and carry it some more. I pulled a bag out of it. At least my pack would be lighter now by about 10 pounds.

I started back up the way we had just come from and Trent looked up tiredly.

“Where you going?” He asked.

I showed him the contents of the bag.

“The first thing they’ll do this morning is put dogs on our trail. The dogs and their handlers after several hours of following us unimpeded will lose caution and hopefully these explosives will be enough to take out the dogs or scare them enough to stay off of our trail.”

“What happens then?”

“Well they might give up on us or they’ll regroup and bring in a native tracker, but that will take a little time.”

He nodded and I headed off into the gloomy morning darkness.

What I hoped to do was buy us some time. Deshavi had been unconscious all night and we needed time to work on her or she may yet die.

It took a little while longer than I had planned to set the tripwires and proximity sensors, but I was now sure of the effectiveness of my snares. That was worth the extra fifteen minutes it had taken me. It was light enough to see well when I rejoined Trent. He was already standing with Deshavi in his arms.

His face was anxious, “I’m worried about her! She has a fever.”

I nodded.

More than anything I wanted to just stop and see to her needs, but we needed a little more distance and the advantage of changed circumstances.

“Around midmorning is when the dogs will hit my traps, when they do our pursuers will be stopped for the moment and we’ll stop to.”

Trent didn’t like it, but he knew the wisdom of what I said and didn’t question me further. I stooped to pick up my pack and sling it on and grimly I acknowledged that it felt like it had gained 10 pounds instead of losing 10 pounds.

Every, once in a while I heard the scattered yip or howl echoing out into the morning stillness, that indicated the pursuit of us in the distance. A little past 10 o’clock I heard a muffled sounding explosion, which was followed by several more explosions. I listen carefully, but could hear no further sounds of pursuit. They would have to regroup now, which meant we had the time we needed to take care of Deshavi. I pointed at a creek up ahead of us and Trent nodded his face tight with concern for the one he held.

The day was chilly, but the sun was warm on the grassy bank by the creek, where it managed to penetrate the overhead canopy some, which was good because we were going to need the extra light. I started making a fire out of only especially dry wood, as it would make less smoke. What little smoke was made would be dispersed by the overhead canopy of tree branches. Trent got the pot out of his pack and started water boiling over the fire on a makeshift trifold.

“Can you rig up the scaffold for the IV fluid?” I asked.

He nodded and did so ingeniously, as I laid out the considerable amount of medical supplies that we had brought with us. We both sterilized our hands and then glanced down at our patient. Her bruised face was all we could see. Her lips were dry, in a sure indicator of how dehydrated she was. We had to get fluid into her!

I unzipped the travel case all the way to her feet and together we pulled it back from her. There’s something about the sight of a woman who’s been abused. Some men willingly do the abuse and gain pleasure from it in a sick fashion. Other men like me and Trent view a woman, as something to be cared for and nurtured, never abused. The site of an abused woman or child is a call to arms against whoever perpetrated the offense. The desire to make, whoever did the offense, pay in blood is overwhelming.

I glanced upward to Trent across from me. He was literally shaking with rage, which is how I felt inside, but this wasn’t the time or place for such emotions. I reached across and shook his shoulder. He looked up his eyes molten with anger.

“I know! But now isn’t the time for anger! I need your help Trent! Find a quiet place and store your anger, until the time comes, when it’s okay to express it.”

He nodded jerkily and like a veil his features became stoically shielded and the pulsing intensity of his demeanor calmed down. Any man, who had such mastery over himself, was a man to be reckoned with.

“I imagine your medical training is a lot more advanced than mine so you take point.”

He nodded easily accepting the responsibility of the situation. “First off we need to start getting fluid into her.”

He had a spot sterilized and an IV hooked up at a fast drip within moments, as adeptly, as any experienced nurse could have done. The IV started his fingers reached out and felt through her hair at her skull.