Chris felt much better after drinking the water. The next thing he needed was food and with the abundance of fruit he’d be ok in that department. He ate a banana and found his stomach again rebelling against the onslaught of food. He fought to keep it down and succeeded for a while before the contents came up in a rush. He lay back against the ground, his stomach churning, his energy spent.
‘Where are you guys?’ he thought as he once again struggled to his feet. He had no idea where he was or how he’d gotten there. The constant pain in his head, arm and ribs kept him from concentrating on anything else. ‘Maybe I should stay here and hope they find me,’ he thought even as he moved away from the stream and headed back towards the beach.
The sky darkened and night fell as he stumbled through the brush. By the time the moon made its appearance he was once again standing near the ocean watching the waves break in over the sand. The single call of a native bird brought with it a sense of loneliness and desolation. ‘I need help, guys,’ he thought as he dropped painfully to his knees in the sand.
“I’ll take first watch,” Sanchez said as he used his crutch to help him stand. The swelling in his ankle was slowly going down, but it was still painful to walk on.
“Alright, Josiah, call me in four hours, Ezra, you and JD can take tomorrow’s shifts,” Jackson suggested.
“That sounds amiable, Mr. Jackson,” Standish said as he lay back on one of the blankets.
Josiah listened as the sounds of even breathing reached his ears. He sat on a large boulder, his ankle stretched out in front of him, and wondered where the others were. ‘Dear Lord, I know we’ve had our differences of late, but please keep the others safe. I know I still have some penance to do before you can forgive me but please bring Brother Chris back to us,’ his eyes closed in silent prayer.
A sudden sound to the right brought him to full attention. He had no weapon except his crutch and that wouldn’t do if it were an animal after an easy meal. Nothing prepared him for the six men who invaded the tiny area where the others slept. Instinctively he slid off the rock and scooted back into the trees. He hoped the newcomers would not see him as they nudged Jackson, Standish, and Dunne. He kept to the darker shadows of the trees, keeping out of the range of the tiny fire’s light. He listened to the angry voices as they rounded up the three sleeping men.
“Come on, get up! On your feet! Now!” Rollins shouted as he used his boot to deliver a painful wake up call to the dark skinned man.
“Huh? What the hell?” Nathan said as he jumped to his feet.
“Who are you?” Dunne asked as he to came to his feet.
Standish was the last to stand, his sleepy eyes barely open as he took in the six heavily armed men. “May I ask what this is all about?”
“How did you guys get here?” Rollins asked, knowing the two men they’d caught earlier had lied.
“Our boat sank,” Dunne answered as he was herded together with Jackson and Standish.
“Thought so,” Rollins said. “Guess your friends lied.”
“What friends?” Jackson asked worriedly.
“We found two men earlier today. Said their boat sank as well. Somehow I didn’t believe they were alone,” Rollins said as his men tied the captive’s hands behind their backs. “How many of you were there?”
“Just the five of us,” Standish answered as his hands were wrenched sharply upwards. He cried out as his injured shoulder protested the harsh treatment.
“I believe you just as much as I believe your friends,” Rollins laughed. “You two search the perimeter,” he ordered two of his men.
Fifteen minutes later Jackson, Standish, and Dunne were led away from the cozy little base camp.
Sanchez watched from his hiding place in the trees, waiting till the others had disappeared before stepping into the small clearing. He knew he had to find a way to help his friends but without weapons it was going to be a hard task. ‘Are you tryin’ to tell me something, Lord?’ he thought as he looked around the empty clearing.
“Buck, Vin, are you two alright?” Jackson asked as he was pushed towards an unoccupied cage.
“Vin’s been shot, Nathan,” Wilmington told the medic.
“Can I take a look at him?” Jackson asked the man with the scar.
“Can’t see a problem with you two trading places,” Rollins said as he pushed Standish and Dunne into the cage he’d just opened.
Nathan entered the cage where the injured member of The Firm leaned wearily against the side of the cage. Buck had already been placed in the cage with Standish and Dunne.
“Hey, Vin, How are you feeling?” Jackson asked worriedly.
“Been better, Nate,” Tanner answered as he held his side.
“Is the bullet still in there?”
“No, it went right through.”
“Why don’t you lay on your side and let me take a look at the wounds?”
Vin moved slowly down the side of the cage till he was lying on his right side. He groaned as Nathan removed the gauze pads. The medic seemed satisfied that they’d stopped bleeding as he placed new pads over the wounds, taping them securely.
“I think you got lucky this time, Vin,” Jackson said as he patted the younger man’s shoulder. “Who are the two women?” he asked.
“Just two innocent people out on a sailing cruise. Sound familiar?”
“Yeah,” Nathan laughed with no trace of real humor. “Have you or Buck seen any way out of here?” he asked softly.
“The guards are changed regularly. They haven’t brought us anything to eat. They took the two woman out for a while. They didn’t seem to be hurt so I’m assuming they were given something to eat.”
“Enough! Be quiet back there!” the guard shouted.
“Better try to get some rest, Vin, it looks like we’ll need it,” Jackson said as he lay down next to the injured man.
Josiah searched the ground for evidence of the direction the men had taken his friends. He was able to pick up their tracks quickly once the sun came up. Now, nearly three hours later he hid behind the compound wondering where his friends were being held. He heard a sound off to his left and shifted back under cover.
Chris woke at dawn that morning and his memory of the discovery of the Pirate compound returned with his senses. He knew he needed to find his way back there and try to help the two women he’d seen the day before. He stumbled in the direction he remembered the compound being. Two hours later he stood close enough to see the men hurrying around inside. He knew he had to stay under cover or risk being caught.
A sound to his right made him stop in his tracks. Without a word he turned and tackled the large blur that leapt out at him. He bit back a cry of pain as his injured arm connected with the large man.
“Chris.”
The voice penetrated his numbed mind and he shook his head to clear it. “Josiah,?” he asked, relief evident in his pain filled voice.
“Yeah, Chris, it’s me. Looks like you got banged up pretty good there, Brother,” Sanchez observed helped the younger man sit up.
“I’m ok, Josiah, where are the others? There’s a pirate ring on the island,” the blond said as he continued to soak in his friend’s presence.
“I know there is, Chris. They’ve got the others.”
“Damnit! What the hell are we going to do? Got any ideas?”
“I was hoping I could get one of the guards, but they haven’t come close enough yet. They usually pass each other every half hour. That just happened so I guess we’d better hurry if we want to get this one before the next one comes around.”
“What we need is some bait,” Chris suggested with a gleam in his tired eyes.
“What kind of bait do you have in mind?” Sanchez asked already knowing where the blond was leading.
“The way I see it is we have to get the guard to come over here. The only way to do that is to let him see one of us.”
“Alright,” Sanchez agreed. “I’ll be the bait.”
“Sorry, Josiah, but you’ve got to take care of him. I can’t do much with my arm and I think I may have busted some ribs as well,” Larabee told him.
Knowing it was useless to argue with the formidable man, Sanchez picked up the stick he’d been using as a crutch and signalled that he was ready.
Chris smiled weakly at the ex preacher. He knew what he needed to do and he knew there wasn’t much chance of coming out of it unscathed. He needed to make the guard come close enough for Sanchez to get the drop on him. The injured man stepped out of the trees and fell to the ground as the guard looked his way.
The guard, a tall gangly young man with long red hair, watched as a man stumbled out of the trees and dropped unmoving to the ground. He looked around in case there were others, but seeing no one else he made his way to the downed man.
Chris heard the guard coming closer and knew he was too far out in the open for Sanchez to be able to do anything without being spotted. He waited for the man to kneel beside him and then pushed upwards with what little strength he had left.
The guard felt the weight of the blond push against him and instinctively pulled a knife from the belt at his waist.
Chris saw the flash of light on the cold steel and reached up with his good hand, only to have it slapped away by the guard. He twisted and tried to gain his feet, but felt a sharp object bury itself in his back. He tried to twist away and heard a dull snap. He muffled his own scream as he fell to the ground, unable to move as fire erupted in the center of his back close to his right shoulder blade.
Josiah moved as fast as he could on his injured foot. He’d been surprised to see Chris try to take the guy down and wanted to scream as he saw the shiny blade enter the blond’s back. The ex preacher tackled the guard and brought him down. Two swift punches from his fists rendered the man unconscious.
Sanchez rolled off the man and removed his guns. He pulled off the guard’s belt, flipped him over and cinched it tightly around the mans wrists. He turned his attention back to his friend and knew he was in trouble when he saw the handle of the knife with an inch of the blade missing.
“Oh, God, Chris,” he cried.
“It’s ...k, Josiah,” Larabee gasped as he curled into a ball.
“The blade...”
“I k...know, i...its s...still in t...there,” he stammered, as his face registered the torment.
Sanchez stared at the sky and fought the urge to scream, “How much more can he stand?”
“Y...you have t...to help t...the others,” the blond insisted as Sanchez stroked the damp blond hair.
“I can’t leave you like this, Brother,” the ex-preacher said worriedly.
“N...need Nathan. H...he’ll know w...what to do,” Chris groaned and grasped his friends arm tightly.
Josiah Sanchez considered himself a strong man, but he was humbled by the strength he felt in the man lying on the ground. He knew his friend was using Nathan as an excuse to get him to go help the others. He also knew the blond was right, he did need Nathan Jackson and fast. “Alright, Chris, I’m gonna move you back in the trees, then I’ll find the others.”
“Try the t...tent on the left. I s...saw them p...put t...two women in t...there,” Larabee groaned.
“I’ll check that one first. Now let’s get you out of the way,” Sanchez ordered. He carefully helped the younger man to his feet and steered him towards a copse of trees. By the time he had the blond settled he could see how much the small trek took out of him. “I’m gonna leave you this gun in case someone sees you. Chris, you make sure you stay here! You hear me?”
“I hear y...you, Josiah,” the blond said, smiling weakly as he took the proffered gun.
“I’ll be back,” Sanchez assured him.
“I’ll b...be here,” the injured man promised as he closed his eyes. He woke a short time later to sounds of an argument. He lifted his head and looked through the trees. The sight that met his eyes made him groan. Josiah Sanchez was on his knees, a gun pointed at his head, blood dripping from a cut over his eyes. Chris struggled to his feet, feeling the blade of the knife in his back and doing everything he could to ignore it.
He stumbled to the edge of the trees and searched for others. Sanchez was held by one man but the gun at his head made it impossible for the preacher to escape. Chris knew there was little, if anything he could do to help the ex preacher. He stayed where he was as the guard made Sanchez get to his feet and precede him into the camp. He glanced to his right and saw the other guard still bound and unconscious in the grass.
“Looks like the gang’s all here,” Standish said as he watched the preacher limp towards the cage that housed Jackson and Tanner.
“Hello, Brothers,” Sanchez greeted as he stumbled into the cage and sat down next to Vin.
“You alright, Josiah?” Jackson asked as he noticed the blood running from an inch long gash in the man’s forehead.
“I’m fine, Brother Nathan,” Sanchez hissed loudly and then lowered his voice. “Chris needs help,” he whispered softly.
“Chris,” Tanner said, his eyes opening at the name of the missing man. “You found him?”
“He found me,” Sanchez whispered.
“How bad is he?” Jackson asked as he inspected the cut on the older mans head.
“Don’t know about his arm but he’s full of cuts and bruises, probably a couple of broken ribs and a major fever running through him,” Sanchez stated and stared into Tanner’s blue eyes.
“What aren’t you telln’ us Josiah?” Tanner asked.
“One of the guards stabbed him in the back. The blade broke off.”
“Damn!” Jackson hissed as he cleaned and patched the wound. “We got to get out of here.”
“Where is Chris, Josiah?” Tanner asked.
“I left him in the trees. He’s got a gun but I don’t know if he’ll be able to lift it let alone use it.”
“If I know Chris he’s probably plotting a way to get us out of here. The man doesn’t know the meaning of the word quit when he’s injured or healthy,” Jackson said.
“We’d better be ready for anything,” Tanner agreed as he looked at the cage holding the other members of the team. He wished he had some way to let Buck know that Chris was alive, not well, but alive.
Chris Larabee waited for darkness to descend. The pain in his back was a constant reminder of the newest injury to his body and he had to clamp down on his lip each time he moved. No one came in search of the missing guard and he remained unconsciousness.
The blond used the rifle to lean on as he struggled to his feet. The camp lay in darkness and he knew the time for him to make his move was now at hand. He could hear Vin’s voice in his head. ‘This is stupid, Cowboy. You can’t help us so help yourself.’
“No way, Pard,” he mumbled as he stood on numbed feet. ‘Been sittin’ so long my damn feet have gone to sleep,’ he thought.
“Did you find out anything about our guests?” Rollins asked McHenry.
“Yeah,” McHenry said as he slammed his fist on the desk. “They are part of an elite group called The Firm. Hell, there’s no way they were just shipwrecked! They had to be looking for us. How many of them do we have now?”
“Six.”
“What were their names again?”
“Jackson, Wilmington, Sanchez, Tanner, Standish, and Dunne.”
“That means there’s one more out there somewhere. The Firm has seven agents. The one that’s missing is Chris Larabee,” McHenry watched as his employee’s eyes opened in surprise. “I thought you’d recognize the name.”
“I want him!”
“If you find him he’s all yours,” McHenry assured him.
Rollins walked into the tent that housed the prisoners. He stepped up to one of the cages and rattled the bars. “So you guys aren’t as innocent as you’d like me to believe,” he snapped angrily.
“What are you talking about?” Wilmington asked.
“We know who you work for. There’s no way all seven members of The Firm would end up shipwrecked on this particular island. So tell me, Wilmington, isn’t it? Where’s Larabee?”
Tanner’s head came up at the mention of his friend. “Who?” he asked.
“Don’t give me that, Tanner, you know damned well who I’m talking about. Seems to me he’s still a coward. Hiding while his men have been captured. He hasn’t changed a bit.”
“Chris ain’t no coward,” Tanner snarled.
“Chris Larabee was, is, and always will be a coward,” Rollins said and wasn’t surprised when six men tried to get at him. He used the butt of his gun and struck at the first man in the cage. Ezra Standish dropped to the floor holding his head.
“You,” he said pointing at Vin Tanner. “The boss wants to have a little talk with you.”
“Leave him be,” Wilmington yelled as he and JD helped Standish to sit up.
“No one asked you,” Rollins said as he opened the cage and stepped back. “Move it Tanner or I’ll put a bullet in one of your friends.”
Vin stood and held his hand to his side. He knew there was no choice but to do as the man wanted. He watched as the second guard locked the cage behind him and went back to his post at the door. “How do you know Chris?” he asked curiously.
“Had a run in with him about ten years ago,” Rollins said as he pushed the injured man towards another tent. He murdered a good friend of mine. Never gave him a chance.”
“Chris would never murder anyone.”
“He shot him in the back. That’s murder in my book.”
“Guy must’ve deserved it!”
“Don’t matter whether he deserved it or not Larabee shot him in cold blood. Just shut up and get in there!” Rollins shoved Tanner into the second tent.
Chris drew on his reserves. He remembered his days as a SEAL and the constant need to ignore the pain and move. He remembered the SEAL code. ‘Do the Deed,’ he thought as he made his way to the nearest set of crates. He recognized the label on the side of the crate. This crate and all the ones around it were loaded with the newest and most destructive grenades used by the American military. ‘How the hell did they get these?’ he thought as he silently opened the crate.
Chris reached inside and pulled out half a dozen of the grenades and placed them on the ground. These weapons were built to be used with a pin or a remote detonator. He removed one of the detonators from the crate and checked the codes on the grenades. He keyed them into the detonator, ignoring the burning sensation in his back.
He moved silently through the compound, placing grenades near each of the other crates he found. ‘You won’t be using these on anyone,’ he thought as he went back to the crate and removed a few more grenades. These he placed inside the waistband of his ruined pants.
He totally ignored the pain in his body and became a full SEAL intent on doing his job at all costs. His eyes were the only clue as to just how much pain he endured. He smiled as he opened a crate and found a two-way radio. He checked to make sure it was fully functional before he hid it behind a few rocks outside the compound.
Finally satisfied that he’d done everything he could to ensure the destruction of the pirate’s base he hurried towards the tent that housed his friends.
“Tanner, do you still insist that you’re here by accident?” McHenry asked.
“Our boat sank,” Tanner answered.
“Somehow that doesn’t fit with my scenario,” McHenry said as he backhanded the younger man across the face, splitting his lip.
Vin swiped at the blood that dripped from his mouth and glared at the man. “What scenario?”
“I think you and the others came here searching for this base. You can’t deny you work for The Firm?”
“I don’t deny it.”
“I know The Firm has done jobs for the government before and I think you’re all spies. I’m going to have you all shot as soon as Larabee is here. Take him back with the others,” McHenry ordered.
“You’ll never find Chris,” Tanner said confidently.
“I’ll not only find him but I’ll kill the son of a bitch,” Rollins said as he ground his gun into Vin’s injured side.
Vin cried out as the wound started burning and blood flowed into the gauze.
“Now get moving,” Rollins ordered and shoved him through the door of the tent.
Chris watched the guard at the front of the tent. The man seemed to be doing a lousy job of watching the grounds. He watched as he lit a cigarette and walked back and forth in front of the tent, sometimes going to the very end and standing there for a few minutes. ‘Come on you son of a bitch. Don’t turn around yet,’ he thought as he made his way to the door of the tent he hoped housed his friends.
The inside of the tent was illuminated by two large halogen lamps. The men in the cages were shocked by the glimpse they got of the form that entered the brightly lit area and scurried into the dark shadows.
“Was that who I thought it was?” Dunne asked.
“Quiet, JD,” Wilmington warned as he continued to watch the shadows.
“Get in there Tanner,” Rollins ordered and shoved the injured man into the tent.
Vin stumbled forward and fell to his knees, the fall once again waking the pain in his side.
Chris recognized the man who pushed his friend into the tent. He’d know the hardened criminal anywhere. They’d met years before and the thought of the sadistic man caused a chill down his spine. He bit back a cry of pain as the broken piece of blade seemed to shift in his back.
‘Do the Deed,’ he thought as he once again ignored the pain. The numbness in his feet seemed to have subsided slightly, but it annoyed him as he stayed hidden behind the barrels.
“Now we just have to wait for Larabee to show up,” Rollins said as he locked the cage. “I’ll be back in the morning with the firing squad,” the man laughed.
Vin watched him leave and then turned his attention to his cellmates. “McHenry thinks we came here to find his base,” he said.
“Chris is here,” Jackson mouthed.
The younger man’s eyes lit up as he looked around the tent, “Where?” he asked.
“He’s behind those barrels,” Sanchez explained.
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