Episode 98
(Yemen, April 19, 2009)
Outside, Wen was squatting on top of the building. He jumped down as soon as Victor and Matt emerged.
“What took you so long?”
Matt looked at him with an air of irritation. “Don’t you want to know where the hostages are?”
“I assume you killed them.”
Victor smiled, but Matt clearly was not amused. “You knew about this too?”
“Knew about what?” Wen genuinely seemed puzzled.
“He’s a sentimental idiot,” Victor explained, gesturing over his shoulder at Matt. This only seemed to confuse Wen more.
“Shall we go?” Matt grumbled.
“You missed one,” a soft voice called from behind.
All three guns were trained on the door in an instant.
“Step out and place your hands on your head,” Matt ordered.
“Why would I do that, when you clearly intend to kill me anyway?” the woman replied, peeking her head out. None of the men pulled the trigger. Her face was stunning.
How had they not noticed her in the bunker? Well, it had been dimly lit, and the smoke from all the gunfire didn’t help. Victor exchanged a look with Matt, who nodded in reply. Victor’s finger moved back to the trigger.
“Don’t shoot. I’ve got something you want,” the woman offered.
Matt waved the others to lower their guns. “We’re not going to shoot you. I promise. But we need to know you’re not armed.”
The woman emerged, and the rest of her was as beautiful as her face. A large blood stain covered her stomach.
“You’re hurt,” Wen exclaimed, and the woman laughed.
“Well, you boys did shoot us up pretty bad. But no, it’s not mine.” She removed her shirt, and all three men gasped. “See, no weapons.” She put her hands behind her back. “Want to cuff me?” She grinned. “You know, just to be sure?”
“Show us your hands,” Victor demanded.
“Oh, so stern.” The woman leaned toward him, smiling. “It’s hard to resist a stern man.” He pointed his gun at her head.
Her voice flattened. “Oh fine.” She produced her hands, along with three grenades minus their pins. She blew a kiss and dropped them on the ground.
Victor looked up but could not move. The burning was too intense, and he felt as if someone had torn his bowels out.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Matt face down on the ground with the woman. There was some sort of motion. Was he doing her? Lucky bastard. Then he noticed that the woman was on top. Served Matt right, taking it like a woman. He probably liked it that way. Didn’t all the grunts? No, that’s not what she was doing. There was a plastic bag over Matt’s head.
Matt had ceased convulsing and now was an inert lump. The woman tied off the bag and heaped sand on his head.
She smiled at Victor. “Thanks for the tip about the bag. I know the same won’t work on you, but you’ll keep for a while. I believe introductions are in order. Hi, I’m Rin. Hello, Rin, I’m … let me guess. Your name is either Inalotofpain or Abouttodiehorribly. I know: it’s both. Mom was a feminist, hyphenated names, and all that.”
Who the hell was “Rin”? Victor struggled to place the name but couldn’t. Her clothes were in tatters, some still smouldering, but she seemed unharmed. What was she? Even if she was one of them, how had she overcome Matt? A blast like that shouldn’t have affected him. Not outside. Was she a higher number or something else altogether?
The woman produced another plastic bag and grinned at Victor before slowly walking toward Wen. Victor struggled to reach for his gun, but it was too far away. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He had to do something before she finished with Wen. This had to be her, which meant she probably knew a way to kill him too.
Or maybe she planned to incapacitate him indefinitely. A simple electric cord would do the trick. As bad as ordinary torture was, being at the mercy of an immortal would be immeasurably worse. That really could last forever.
Perhaps Matt was right, and it was pain rather than death that he should have feared more. Agony often led him to doubt his choice, but only during its immediacy. Now he wondered in earnest.
What if it wasn’t just that choice, but all the others after, which had landed him here? The ineluctable truth at which one such as he was destined to arrive. No, it was not folly or fault. He had arrived here the same way anyone arrived anywhere: luck. And that meant he could still prevail. He just needed to win the next roll of the dice.
With enormous effort, Victor rose to his feet, isolating the pain as he had trained himself to do. This didn’t always work, and he risked tipping his hand. He preferred to be underestimated by others and had been careful to hide the ability to endure pain even as he cultivated it. This had served him well on several occasions. Even the Colonel didn’t suspect how frayed his leash was.
A clever adversary would assume that an immortal who hated pain would find a means of ignoring or suppressing or just dealing with the damned thing. Fortunately, the Colonel was not clever. Perhaps somebody above him was, but not him. Maybe that somebody had guessed, maybe they hadn’t. But, with the Colonel as his keeper, Victor was certain the opportunity to escape would arise. It just hadn’t so far.
What mattered now was whether she suspected. Judging from her lackadaisical attitude, she clearly did not. He could make use of that, but only at the cost of revealing the trick. At best, it would work once on her. He also ran the risk that Wen could notice, which would be the same as announcing it to the Colonel. He would have to chance it. If she got Victor first, the Colonel wouldn’t matter.
He looked at Wen. Even if he detested the man, they were on this mission together. One didn’t abandon one’s comrades. No, fuck the little shit. He wasn’t going to hazard endless torment just to save him. It was a moot point, anyway. There was nothing Victor could do to save him. His odds were low enough of saving himself.
The woman looked at Victor and seemed to be deliberating. He turned and ran, but immediately sensed that something was wrong. Rin seemed unconcerned. She should have been surprised that her immobilized prey had suddenly proved mobile. Was he fooling himself?
Victor looked down. Sand was passing beneath his feet. It wasn’t a delusion. He actually was running, and his distance from the building was growing. All he needed to do was get out of sight for a minute or two. Then he could bury himself in the sand, and she would never find him.
He glanced over his shoulder. Thank god. Rin must have given up on him and decided to settle for the other two. She probably could have caught him if she had sprinted the moment he started running. Even now, he wasn’t moving very quickly. Was she intentionally letting him get away? Maybe she was toying with her food. Or maybe she just preferred two birds in the hand.
Of course! That must be it. Since he had been pretending, the other two could be as well. She had no choice but to stay with them, or she would risk losing all three. Victor actually stood a chance now. He redoubled his effort, straining to go as fast he could.
Rin finished tying off Wen and buried his head in the sand. He had begun to convulse but clearly was still alive. There was time to go back and save him. Victor’s legs didn’t stop moving.
Rin laughed and began to stride purposefully toward Victor.
“Don’t leave in a snit just because you’re last. I promise to give you my full attention.”
She reached into her pocket, and Victor felt a wave of panic surge through him. The distance he had covered was less than he had hoped, and she was faster. Even if not quickly, the gap between them was closing. All he needed was for her to trip, for a sandstorm, for something, for anything. Just a little more.
In the helicopter, Victor could not remember what had happened. Wen’s limp form was next to him. He wondered if the little shit was dead, but a gentle rising of his chest suggested otherwise. Had she failed? No, it wasn’t that. She knew how to kill Wen, and by all rights he should be dead.
Through the throbbing pain, Victor remembered a series of concussive blasts. A huge pit had opened in the ground and swallowed the woman. A sinkhole? If so, it was an extraordinary piece of luck. He was pretty sure a helicopter gunship alone wouldn’t have been enough to stop her.
“You awake?” a voice asked. It was the Colonel. This puzzled Victor. He had assumed that the man next to the pilot was Matt — that somehow he’d made it out too, since Wen had. No, he had seen Matt die. That bitch killed him.
“So much for being discreet,” Victor grunted, still only half-conscious.
“Never mind that. We were lucky to lose just one of you.”
Victor bolted upright. “You knew?”
“Of course not,” snapped the Colonel, twisting to face him. “Whatever you may think of us, we take care of our own. We found out mid-mission. It was a setup. We were fed the intel.”
“Who was she?”
“You know the rumors about someone hunting you people?”
Victor nodded. “That was her?”
The Colonel shrugged. “Probably. Did she say anything?”
Victor struggled for a few moments to recall. “I think she said her name was Rin.” He looked at the Colonel. “Does that mean anything to you?”
The man broke into a smile. Victor preferred his perennial scowl. There was something unsettling in a smile from the Colonel.
“Get some rest,” he instructed Victor. “And don’t you worry. We’ll deal with her. As I said, we take care of our own.”
As he dozed off, Victor couldn’t help but think of Matt. He had a soft spot for grunts, but they always seemed to get themselves killed. He would miss the bastard.