Authors: Derek Blass
“
Your punishment hasn't begun,” Martinez answered. “And if you drop any more slurs, I'm gonna pinch one of your balls and slice it off.”
They spent the rest of the trip in silence, letting the weight of their conversation lay over them. The topography changed as they neared Shaver's house. Rangy mountains flattened to rolling hills and then to expansive plains. Evergreens became junipers and pine which gave way to sparse vegetation cover. The car's headlights illuminated a calm, desolate and beautiful nothingness in front of them.
The navigation system broke their silence.
“
How far should we approach on foot?” Raul asked.
“
We have no cover at all. Our lights are visible from hundreds of feet away, so I'd say we walk the last mile or so.” Martinez slowed down and let the car with Alfonso in it pull alongside. He rolled down the window and waited for Alfonso to do the same before saying, “Follow me up the road, then we'll stop and hoof it the last mile.” Alfonso nodded his head. Cruz noted a steeled look on the young man's face. It was remarkable that just a short time ago his father was sabotaging them. Now he was ready to die for their cause. Powerful emotion, that guilt thing.
The two cars kept moving up the road. Martinez left the window down and Cruz could hear the crunch of gravel under the cars' tires. Soon the crunch turned into the raspy sound of dirt passing under the cars and they stopped. The pitch-black night sky was all encompassing. A few crickets made lazy calls in the knee-high grass. Cruz gently opened the door and stepped out. Alfonso and his full car of mercenaries gathered around where Martinez was standing. Raul pulled the Chief out of the car by his collar and set him on the ground next to the back tire. Cruz stood alone for a moment, admiring the heft of darkness that created its own silence.
“
We're going to split into three teams,” Cruz heard Martinez start. “Team A will be the reconnaissance team; Team B will be the diversionary team; and Team C will be the strike team. Alfonso, I want you to lead the reconnaissance team, which will be one of Raul's men, the Chief and you. Team B is going to be Raul and Cruz. Team C is me and the rest of Raul's men. Team A is going to advance up the road to Shaver's house while Teams B and C take positions on opposite sides of the house. Teams B and C will swing in wide arcs to the house so that not all of the teams can be detected at once. When recon gets fifty yards from the front of the house, I want you to get down on the ground and lay low. Team B, your primary tactic will be using flashbangs in order to disorient Shaver and whoever else he's got in there.”
“
Probably Tyler,” the Chief said.
“
When we hear your flashbangs, Team C will gain entry and attack from the other side of the house. Plain and simple,” Martinez said with a smile as he looked around at everyone. “Raul, these guys of yours speak English, right?”
“
Not so much.”
“
Well, the...then why the hell didn't you tell me before I went through all of that?”
“
You seemed so excited.”
“
Shit...I was.” While Raul translated Martinez's plan into Spanish, Cruz approached Martinez to hopefully take care of some frayed nerves.
“
You know I've never done anything like this?” Cruz said scratching the back of his head. “I mean, I'm a lawyer. I yell at people and write some nasty letters, but that's about the scope of my violence.”
“
You'll be fine.” Martinez grabbed one of the flashbangs and showed him how it worked. “Once you release the flashbang, it will do three things. First, cause a flash of light equal to 300,000 candlepower. Second, emit 150 decibels of sound. Third, because these ain't the bargain-basement variety, the flashbang will emit CN tear gas. The effect is a complete loss of balance and orientation.”
“
Can Shaver fight these off?”
“
Sure, with the right equipment—and he's been trained to counteract the various effects. But I don't necessarily care if the flashbangs actually work on him. The diversion is what I want. The few seconds those flashbangs buy will be important.” Cruz stood staring blankly at the dense piece of metal in his hand.
“
What do I do after that?”
“
Wait. The house would be too crowded with you and Raul in it too.”
“
You'll need all the help you can get,” the Chief smugly added.
Martinez knelt down next to the Chief, his nose inches from the Chief's crimson cheek. “That's a fine suggestion. I think I'll use you as a human shield. Any more of 'em?”
“
Of what?”
“
Suggestions.” The Chief sat silently and turned his head away from Martinez.
“
Get your gear and nuts together. Three minutes and we'll head in.” Cruz looked on as the other men moved around, clipping clips, adjusting straps, snapping weapons. He pulled his windbreaker on and leaned against Martinez's car, analyzing the cylindrical flashbang in his right hand and squeezing it a few times. Raul saw him and grinned.
“
Not exactly combat-ready?”
“
You could say that. I'll just follow your lead.”
“
It won't be a big deal. Squeeze, pull pin, throw through window.” Raul paused his gearing up to add, “Just make sure to get it through the window. If that lands in your lap, well, you know...”
Cruz watched the others and noticed his hands were shaking again. Martinez saw it and held his hand up to Cruz, “See...mine does it too.” Cruz's countenance changed for the better. He squatted down and ran his hands through his hair, emitting a loan groan as he did. He grabbed a chunk of dirt and grass, held it to his nose and breathed in deeply. The richness of the soil mixed with the pungent odor of the grass woke his senses and grounded him. The clicking around him stopped.
“
On our way then,” Martinez ordered. Raul led the group out while Martinez brought up the rear. They walked in single file, every now and again the rhythm of their footsteps was broken by someone dragging a foot. As they made their way, the pitch-black sky around them began to transform in color. Cruz noted the minute change from black to deep purple and watched as the deep purple yielded to a shade of lighter purple. “
Cuidado
!” came a hushed warning when Cruz bumped into the man in front of him.
The line had stopped. Cruz made out the shape of Shaver's home. It was like a bunker, low and square. The windows were dark and there were no streetlights on the dirt road. The quarter moon provided the only illumination and tended to make the home look more daunting than it probably was. They moved closer as Martinez sped up to the front of the line. They stopped again when Martinez held up one finger and pointed to the left of the house, held up two fingers and pointed at the driveway, held up three fingers flicked them toward the right side of the house.
Cruz and Raul crouch-ran in an arc while staying several hundred feet from the house. Cruz felt more rugged than he ever had in his life, crouch-running. Where was Sandra to see him now? He breathed heavily as they both came to a stop, the flashbang pressing its cold, steel body against his leg. Very rugged. They both watched as Alfonso and the Chief slowly made their way down the driveway, slightly hunched over. Martinez and his group were barely visible on their side. They sat silently, chests heaving in unison, gazing intently until an eruption forced them backwards onto the ground. Cruz's ears rung and he fought to take a breath but it felt like someone was sitting on his chest. Raul was laying next to him, sprawled out on the ground. He was making futile attempts to get up, drunk attempts. The taste of blood filled Cruz's mouth. Seconds later he sucked in a lungful of air and rolled onto his side. Raul managed to get onto all fours and was coughing violently.
Cruz pushed up off of the ground and rested on one knee. He ran a finger in his mouth, and when he pulled it out could see a dark stain. There were no figures standing in the driveway anymore. As the ringing cleared from Cruz's ears, a ghastly screaming replaced it. It sounded like Alfonso. The screams penetrated the still of the night and then faded as he drew another breath. Cruz started to head toward the noise but Raul grabbed the back of his foot.
“
Don't move that way.”
“
What do you mean? We've got to go help Alfonso.”
“
We have no idea what's out there—it could be a trap. That was either a set explosive or a mine and we have no idea where the rest of them are.”
The thought of stepping on a mine confounded Cruz. “A mine?”
“
May have been.”
“
What the fuck is this?”
“
I don't know Cruz, but we can't go that direction.” The screams were spaced out further now and had transformed into wails. Cruz didn't realize it but he kept running a hand over his body to make sure everything was intact.
“
What now?” Cruz asked with a heavy feeling of regret and guilt. Leaving Alfonso out there to suffer alone seemed inhuman.
“
We move to our position, carefully. There may be more mines to look out for. Stay directly behind me as I move and only step where I step.” Raul stood up slowly and stretched his legs. He stood up and bent down, stood up and bent down. “Damn...damn!”
“
What is it?” Cruz whispered.
“
I'm having trouble putting any weight on my right leg. I've got an old knee injury. I think that blast aggravated it.”
“
That means you want me to go first?”
“
Not want—you have to.”
Cruz shook his head and a small helping of dust fluttered off. “Can you tell me what the hell I'm looking for?” The ridiculousness of the situation frustrated Cruz. Two men possibly dead a hundred feet away. Raul standing in front of him with a knee injury. God-knows-what other fucking booby traps laid out in front, around or behind them. Through all of this, the flashbang grenade hung relentlessly out in his pocket—a reminder of further conflict and possible fuckups to come.
“
Wires, laser lines, small circular objects. Look for piles of leaves, mounds of dirt or anything else that doesn't look flat.”
Cruz took his first step, muttering “Hail Mary, full of grace...” while extending one leg in front of the other as if the bottom half of his body was immersed in quicksand. Some remote quadrant of his brain—not paralyzed by fear—was tickled to hear the prayer come out of his mouth. A firm nonbeliever temporarily transformed on these solitary, moonlit plains. Cruz took step after step while watching for anything that looked out of the ordinary. He stopped several times and unsuccessfully tried to slow his breathing. The beat of his heart filled his ears like a rubber mallet pounding on an empty metal tank. Everything looked like a threat. Simple piles of dirt became land mines. Leaves were hiding trip wires. He felt light-headed and nauseous as the threat of death loomed over him. Raul's hand was on his shoulder providing a mixture of support and condolence.
“
Steady as she goes, steady, steady, steady as she goes...” Cruz hummed.
“
We are almost there,” Raul said.
Cruz stopped and wiped sweat off of his forehead. He looked back to see Raul's status. Just as he did, a red dot fluttered on Raul's chest and then disappeared.
“
Down, get down!” Cruz yelled as he ducked to the ground and pulled Raul down with him. They heard a puff of air and then dirt kicked up right next to them. Both of them started a mad rush to the house. They re-prioritized dangers and brushed aside the possibility of stepping onto something explosive. Cruz heard one more puff of air and felt something burning his right shoulder. The front of the house was feet away. Cruz vaulted a row of shrubs wrapped around the perimeter of the home and dove to the corner of the house. He turned his head and watched Raul tumble over the shrub, an accelerated trip to the ground, and then crawl the last few feet to Cruz's side.
The two men sat against the side of the house, chests heaving, their chins in their chests. Raul looked over at Cruz, “You're shot,” he said matter-of-factly.
“
Where?” Then the pain returned. “Oh shit. That happened when we were running,” Cruz said as he put a finger onto the wound.
“
Doesn't look too bad—let me feel it.” Raul touched the wound. “Grazed.”
“
That's a first.”
“
Shaver popped your cherry,” Raul laughed. Cruz snickered before they both sobered up and realized where they were sitting. Raul climbed over Cruz and looked around the edge of the house. “I don't see Martinez.”
“
How do we know when to move?”
Raul didn't respond immediately. He continued to look around the side of the house for Martinez. Cruz tuned his ears into the sounds around him. The house was silent. Insects made noises barely audible above the buzz of the world. Plains stretched out in front of him into a pitch black. Stars filled almost every inch of the globe over him. He felt Raul climb back over him and rest against the house with a sigh.
“
We'll have to wait for some sign of...” Both men snapped their heads to the right.
“
Did you hear that?” Cruz asked.
“
Yes.”
They sat dead still, straining their eyes to pick up some movement down the length of the house. Seconds seemingly stretched into minutes before they saw it. A face popped out around the corner and then slid back into the darkness.
“
Fuck—fucking-a, who is that?!” Cruz exclaimed. Raul shook his head and pulled his gun out. He shifted down onto his stomach and took aim down to where they had seen the face. As he did Cruz heard something from around the corner of the house next to them.