Swords Of Exodus Part 42

Another long pause. "I know."

"Do you want me to . . . I mean, I've got a clean shot. I have one round left . . . "

Ling's eyes went wide, but I ignored her and awaited Lorenzo's response. Killing him was probably a h.e.l.l of a lot more merciful than letting Sala Jihan's fanatics get a hold of him.

Lorenzo let out a raspy, wheezing laugh into the radio. "That would be funny, wouldn't it? After all this, you're the one who kills me. That'd be precious." He laughed again, like that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

I could see his face behind the crosshairs. I put my finger on the trigger. "Say the word."

He seemed to think about it. The interior of the bomber was splattered with his blood. "You know what? No. Just get out of here. I'll take my chances."

"You sure?"

"I am. Is Jill safe?"

"She is. She's with the others. Reaper too."

"Good. Do me a favor. Get her out of here. Get her far away from this place. Please."

"I . . . I will, Lorenzo. I swear."

"Don't tell her what happened to me. If she thinks there's any chance I'm alive she'll try to come back for me. They'll get her too. Make something up, but don't let her come after me."

Ling took the radio from me. "Lorenzo, I'll tell Jill that you died a hero, so that others could live."

"That's a little dramatic, don't you think?"

Ling smiled sadly. "It's mostly true."

"Heh . . . How about that?" His voice had grown very quiet. "I'm the hero. Never figured that's how I'd die."

Ling looked like she was going to cry.

"One more thing, Valentine," Lorenzo managed. "Find my brother."

"I'll try."

"Okay," he hesitated. "Now get the h.e.l.l out of here. I'm turning off my radio."

"I'll see you around someday, Lorenzo."

"So long, Valentine."

We left the heavy Sako rifle as we scrambled back up to road level. A few stray shots. .h.i.t the rocks around us, but none of them were close. As we headed for the road, I could see the wreck through the trees. It was hard to tell, but it looked like Sala Jihan's soldiers were about to drag Lorenzo away.

"Michael, we have to go!" Ling insisted. I turned and left without looking back.

LORENZO.

I dropped the radio on the b.l.o.o.d.y floor. It lay there in a pile of spent sh.e.l.l casings.

The soldiers were approaching cautiously. They could see that I was done.

Poor Jill . . . but she deserved a better man than me anyway.

My eyelids were too heavy. The world was getting very dark.

I could hear angry shouting, but I couldn't understand what they were saying. My chest was rising and falling. Rising and falling.

There was movement inside the plane. They were approaching cautiously. Someone squatted next to me. He was wearing a heavy coat and a fur-lined hood. Beneath the hood was skin as white as a corpse and two pitch black eyes.

"Greetings, son of murder. I warned you not to return." The devil turned back to his minions. "Take him."

A rifle b.u.t.t smashed me in the face. Boots stomped on my ribs. Rough hands grabbed me and pulled me through the rust. I was lifted up and carried into the cold.

Gideon Lorenzo was standing in front of me, big, strong, and kind. Nothing like the broken, battered, dying sh.e.l.l I'd last seen on his death bed.

I felt him put his arm over my shoulder.

"You were good, Hector. That's all that anyone could ever ask. We better get going."

Then the sun was up.

It was morning.

VALENTINE.

The Rendezvous Point Ariel had told me that Lorenzo had been trying so hard to live a peaceful life, and Ling and I dragged him into this mess and got him killed. I didn't say it out loud, but we were both thinking it. I could see the pain on Ling's face.

We caught up to the other survivors at a predetermined rally point.

"I can't tell her, Michael." Ling rubbed her face with both hands. "I just can't."

Jill came running up as we got out of the truck. There was a flicker of hope as the doors opened. It was painful to watch it die. "Where . . . where's Lorenzo?" she asked. There was fear in her voice. Reaper stood a few feet behind her, not saying anything. "Val, where is Lorenzo? You said you were going to go get him!"

I steeled myself. "Jill . . . "

"No. No. Please." Tears welled up in her eyes. What little color there was on Reaper's pale face drained out.

I gently placed my hands on Jill's shoulders. "He's gone, honey. There wasn't anything we could do."

"d.a.m.n it, Val," Jill sobbed. She buried her face in my shoulder and cried, while hitting me with her fist. "d.a.m.n it. You said you'd bring him back. You said."

Reaper just sat down in the snow, not saying anything.

Ling spoke up, softly. "Lorenzo's action is what allowed everyone else to get away. These people owe him their lives, and we all owe him a debt of grat.i.tude. His sacrifice was n.o.ble. I'm sorry for your loss."

Jill continued sobbing. I held her in my arms and wished like h.e.l.l there was something I could say that would help.

"We need to get going," someone said. "The longer we stay here, the more likely it is none of us get out of here alive."

He was right. We had to go. But Jill needed a moment, and I was going to give her that moment.

"I'm sorry," I told her. The words sounded hollow and pathetic. "I'm sorry this happened. I wish there was something I could have done. But listen to me. We need to go."

Jill didn't move.

"Jill, Lorenzo made me promise that I'd get you out of here, you and Reaper both. So we need to get going right now. Don't make a liar out of me."

"He told you that? He thought about me?"

"Of course he did, honey. He loved you."

"Did he say that?"

"Yes he did," I lied. "Now come on, please, let's get out of here."

Jill collected herself, and shakily nodded her head. A cold wind blew through the mountains, and she shivered.

Epilogue: Finest Hour

VALENTINE.

Exodus Safe House Olgii, Western Mongolia March 26th The town of Olgii was less than a hundred miles, in a straight line, from The Crossroads. Even still, it had taken us hours and hours to get there on narrow pa.s.ses and around mountains.

There wasn't much to the Exodus safe house. It was one of the bigger buildings in the remote Mongolian village; an old warehouse with snow drifted up against one side of it. Exodus personnel were, as Ling suggested, waiting for us. We pulled the vehicles around back. Medics rushed out with stretchers to carry the wounded. A few guards nervously kept their eyes open, afraid that Jihan's forces would appear out of the blowing snow. I couldn't shake the unnerving feeling that we weren't nearly far enough away from The Crossroads.

The inside was dimly lit, but plenty warm. One side of the main floor was set up as a small medical facility. The other had cots and blankets. They told us they were preparing a hot meal, which sounded good. I was starving. I felt disgusting, too, covered in sweat and blood, and wanted to take a hot shower if one was available. Both of those things could wait, though. I was completely exhausted. I had been running on adrenaline for far too many hours now, and I just could not go on. I found a cot in a dark corner of the warehouse, stripped off my boots and socks, and flopped down on it. I was asleep within minutes.

I awoke some time later. The howling wind outside rattled the old building. No light came in from small, high windows. It was dark out now. I'd slept through the entire day. Someone had been thoughtful enough to leave a big bottle of water next to my cot. A small crowd of Exodus personnel had gathered at the other end of the warehouse, like they were having some kind of meeting. I grabbed it and took a sip as I left my bunk to figure out what was going on.

A rough semicircle had formed around Ling, who had a printout in her hands. The Exodus members looked to her expectantly, even though she wasn't technically their leader. I didn't know where Fajkus was, or what had happened to Katsumoto. No one paid me any mind as I moved through the group, bare feet on the cold concrete floor, to hear what Ling had to say.

". . . have fully briefed the Council on everything that happened. In case anyone here hasn't heard the full story of what happened . . . we failed." The demeanor of the crowd darkened slightly, but Ling continued. "Sala Jihan lives. We few here are all that remain Of those not with us, we don't know how many are missing and how many have died. It's . . . probably better to a.s.sume the worst."

Just like with Lorenzo, I thought bitterly.

"We have, however, arranged transport out of here. It will take them about twenty-four hours to get here, but they're sending an aircraft to Olgii to pick us up. This safe house will be abandoned, and no one else will be left behind here. We've left enough behind as it is."

The small crowd solemnly nodded in agreement.

Ling paused for a moment, trying to decide what to say. "I want . . . I want you all to hold your heads high. You all fought well. Be proud of that. For every one of us that fell, it cost the enemy twenty of his own. But I will be blunt, for you all deserve nothing but the truth, ugly as it may be. This is the worst defeat Exodus has experienced in any of our lifetimes. But such is war. In war, sometimes you win, and sometimes you lose. We have been bloodied, and we have been set back, but we are not broken!"

There were a couple voices of agreement in the crowd. Others nodded.

"Even in our darkest hour, do not give up hope. Do not give into despair! Mourn the dead, but honor their sacrifice by finding the strength to carry on. For six hundred years, Exodus has stood alone against the darkness. For six hundred years, we have known victory and defeat, success and failure. Our order, our brotherhood, our fight continues, because our cause is just. We will recover from this setback. We will recover and carry on, learning from our mistakes and coming away better prepared than ever."

Ling had the crowd transfixed. Even as an outsider, I found her appeal to be moving. She was a much better leader than she gave herself credit for.

"The road ahead will be hard," Ling said, lowering her gaze slightly. Her dark eyes shimmered, as if she was fighting back tears. "We have all lost . . . so very much. But even on such a terrible day, let us not forget where we came from. Let us not forget why we do this, what we fight for. If we give up, if we say it's too hard, if we don't continue on, who will? Who will stand for the weak against the strong? Who will fight for the oppressed and the enslaved?"

There was no answer from the crowd.

Pa.s.sion filled Ling's voice, giving it clarity and purpose. "Our work is just, and n.o.ble. Our work is necessary. We cannot turn our backs on it, even now. For if we give up, if we do not continue on . . . no one will. The cycles of suffering that we struggle to break will continue, and the world will grow that much darker."

Ling paused, taking a deep breath. Her voice was lower when she spoke. "You all fought magnificently. You are the finest men and women I have ever had the honor to serve with." A tear trickled down her cheek. "I am proud of you. I am proud to count myself as one of you. So please, hold your heads high." She fell silent, and quickly made her way out of the room.

A man stepped in where Ling had been standing, taking over from her. "Yes, thank you, Ling. Let us all take a moment to say a prayer for the fallen."

As the group bowed its head in prayer, I headed back to my cot to put my boots back on and find Ling. I wanted to make sure she was okay.

I found Ling outside, alone.

Mercifully, the howling wind had died down. The sky was overcast low, and the lights of the town gave the clouds an amber glow. Ling's breath steamed in the cold air as she stood, arms folded across her chest, staring into the distance. As I approached, I could tell she was crying.

I surprised her when I gently placed my hand on her shoulder. She turned to face me, with tears in her eyes. Ling then surprised me by wrapping her arms around me. She pulled me close to her, buried her face in my shoulder, and quietly wept.

Reciprocating her embrace, I held her tightly, and rubbed my hand up and down on her back. She squeezed me even tighter as she cried, struggling to regain her composure. I didn't ruin the moment by opening my stupid mouth.

After a little while, Ling looked up into my eyes, but didn't let go of me.

"Hey, you," I managed.

She sniffled. "I'm so glad you're okay. I just . . . I just couldn't bear it if I lost someone else I care about. I couldn't bear it. I'm barely holding on, Michael."

Looking down into her eyes, I agreed with her. "I know. It's been-"

My eyes went wide as Ling leaned up and kissed me, deeply, pa.s.sionately. Her soft skin was hot against mine in the cold air. She pulled me tightly against her.

I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't think I was ready for this. I didn't know what 'this' even was. We were in shock, exhausted, both badly needed a shower, and had barely escaped with our lives. It was the worst time for something like this.

But G.o.d help me, it felt right. I held her tightly, reciprocating her embrace and her kiss. After a moment, we pulled apart. Ling's eyes were locked onto mine, studying my face for approval. I smiled at her, and she kissed me again. I held her close to me, closed my eyes, and for a wonderful moment, forgot all the horrors I'd seen.

The next morning found the Exodus safe house bustling with activity. It was only a matter of hours before the plane that was taking us away was to arrive, and Exodus was busy preparing to leave. Everything they couldn't take, they intended to destroy, leaving behind as little evidence as possible.

I barely saw Ling that morning. At first I was worried, wondering if she was avoiding me. Had we jumped the gun? Was she regretting kissing me? Did I take advantage of her? Did it get weird?

I saw her for the first time that morning when she came out of one of the back offices with Fajkus. At first she didn't acknowledge me, and I was concerned. But when her compatriot had his back turned, she looked over at me, dropped her professional demeanor for just a moment, and smiled at me. Then she winked at me, and a stupid grin split my face. As soon as Fajkus turned to face her again, the mask was back on, and she was as solemn as ever. I couldn't help but laugh at the rapid transition.