Chapter 10
Inside the cave
His mind drifted somewhere amidst the fog of semi-consciousness. His tormentor left the room a while ago, but he remained chained to the ceiling, his head hanging down, powerless to move. His body has long gone numb with pain and exhaustion, and he watched with a kind of fatalistic, dull fascination as blood from his wounds dripped slowly onto the cave floor, gradually forming a small crimson puddle under his feet. Every so often that puddle would drift out of focus, and Harm would wonder if that was the end. But some part of him still clung stubbornly to life, and so he remained suspended in that state of semi-consciousness, as life was gradually draining out of him drop ... by drop ... by drop.
Vaguely he heard some commotion outside the walls of his small prison, and moments later Ahmed came running back inside, his weapon drawn. Glancing back over his shoulder, he took a couple of steps toward his prisoner, pointing his weapon at the pilot's head.
"Time to die, American."
Harmon Rabb, Jr. closed his eyes, mentally calling up the dear face that appeared to him so often during his most dreadful moments.
"Goodbye, Sarah," he mouthed, and then a single shot rang out inside the cave walls.
* * *
Same time
Opposite end of the cave
The gunfire died away fairly quickly, as the few surviving Taliban members fled into the depths of the cave,
pursued by the SEALs. Thirteen bodies lay sprawled on the ground near the cave entrance; most of them did not even have time to fire their weapons before meeting their deaths at the hands of the American team. Their mission was accomplished -- the remaining Taliban would not offer too much resistance.
But the main objective of their mission was nowhere in sight.
Sarah Mackenzie frantically scanned the area, searching for any sign of her friend. Her weapon still in full battle
readiness, she screamed his name, hearing nothing but the echo of her own voice in response. Suddenly, she heard more gunfire deep from the heart of the cave, and then Lt. Commander Rockwell's voice yelled for her to come over.
Exchanging a quick glance with the Admiral, she rushed toward the voice, not bothering to look whether her two companions followed. A young SEAL blocked her way just as she was about to enter a small cell at the end of the hall.
"Ma'am, it doesn't look good in there."
Angrily, she pushed against his chest, her hands balled up in tight fists. "Out of the way, Corporal!" she seethed, and the younger man complied, exchanging a concerned look with his commanding officer.
The first thing Sarah saw when she walked inside was the body of an older Afghani man lying close to the entrance.
"I shot him as he was about to execute the prisoner, Ma'am," the Corporal supplied, pointing to the motionless
figure in the center of the room.
She followed his gesture and froze at the sight that opened before her.
Emaciated, mutilated body of her partner hung lifeless from the crude iron chains in the ceiling. Her eyes drifted over his blood-soaked flight suit, the ugly swollen scars on his back, the sticky puddle of thick crimson liquid under his feet that kept getting larger with every second as a new drop of blood was added to its contents. That sight brought back the nightmarish images from her dreams, which assailed her mind like a raging hurricane. She couldn't breathe. Dizziness overwhelmed her, and she swayed slightly, feeling her knees buckle.
A pair of strong hands grabbed her shoulders preventing her from falling, and she heard the Admiral's voice boom above her ear: "Get him down, damn it!"
The above command brought her out of her trance, her marine training kicking in, and straightening herself out, Mac rushed over to her partner's side just as Lt. Commander Rockwell removed the last of the iron rings from around the prisoner's bloodied wrists. Deprived of his only support, the Navy Commander sagged heavily into Mac's waiting arms.
Gently lowering him to the ground, she began frantically feeling for pulse. With her trembling fingers still pressed against his neck, she felt him stir, and her heart jumped with joy when she saw his eyes flutter open. Clouded with pain, his eyes rested on her face for a brief moment, and his dry swollen lips moved weakly, straining to form her name. "S-sa...rah... you ... c-came..," he managed, before his world was plunged into total darkness.
"I'm here, Flyboy. You just hang on. Hang on," she whispered, running her fingers over his gaunt pale face stained with traces of dirt and dried blood. He was alive, and for the moment nothing else mattered to Sarah Mackenzie, as she cradled him in her arms, oblivious to the tears that flowed freely down her cheeks.
Brad Rockwell approached the Admiral who stood quietly over his two junior officers, his own heart filled with
immense relief at finding Harm still alive and enormous rage at the monsters who did this to the man he loved like his own son.
"I've radioed ahead for the chopper to pick us up, Admiral," Rockwell reported in a hushed voice, glancing down at the couple. "It should be here within a couple of minutes."
A.J. looked over at the man as if seeing him for the first time. Then, realizing what the Lt. Commander said, he nodded, turning his gaze back to his officers. "Thank you, Commander."
The SEAL team leader coughed awkwardly, getting his attention one more time. "Sir, we managed to capture one of them alive. I thought you'd want to know."
Something dark and deadly flashed in the older man's eyes, as he turned to face Rockwell, and it took all of his training for the young SEAL not to step back. "Very well, Commander. I'm sure Mr. Webb would want a few words with that man."
He turned away again, a deep frown creasing his forehead. "You just keep him away from me," he added in a low menacing whisper.