“Negative,” Brooks said. “Remain there until I contact you.”
“We’re not going to leave you down there, Lieutenant.”
“You will if I order you to,” Brooks replied. “Stay clear until I tell you otherwise.”
Putting the radio down, Brooks looked around at his men. Three of them were injured. That left nine, plus the copilot, who had to do more than fly at this point.
“Jones,” Brooks called to one of the men. “Get your squad to the south. Make sure no one flanks us.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Dalton, Garcia, you’re with me. We’ve got to find those guns and that missile battery and take ’em out.”
“Yes, sir,” the men replied in unison.
Under a covering fire, the three men moved out, racing fifty yards to the north and then scampering up the wall onto the next terrace.
As the unexpected battle raged all around the compound, Joe remained with the hostages. He could tell by the din of the explosions and the volume of gunfire that something had gone wrong.
“Everyone get on the floor,” he said. “Flip those tables over and pile up those mattresses.”
Almost on cue, gunfire ripped through the top of the building. Joe hit the deck along with everyone else. Prayers could be heard in three different languages. The sound of children whimpering needed no translation.
“I thought we were leaving?” someone asked.
“So did I,” Joe muttered.
Wondering what had gone wrong, Joe crawled to the door and pushed it open a crack. Flames lit up the sky at the bottom of the hill.
He heard the sounds of the helicopters maneuvering in the distance and the report of the heavy machine guns. Over the headset, he heard Brooks calling out that they’d been shot down and warning the others away. Across the terrace he saw two separate groups of men rushing down the hill and firing wildly. Between these men and the men from the barracks, the Marines from the downed helicopter would soon be badly outnumbered.
Joe knew his help was needed, but if he left the hut the hostages would be utterly alone and defenseless.
He studied the action a moment longer. It was all going on down the hill from where they were, with the sounds of another battle raging at the main house. But to his right, out to the south, all was quiet.
“Time to go,” he said. “Don’t want to miss the bus.” He began waving them up to the door, pointing to the right, where it was dark and quiet. “There’s a wall about seventy yards away. Get to it, climb over it, and keep going. Don’t stop until you’re at least a thousand yards from here and you’ve found some kind of shelter. A ditch, some bushes, a stand of those weird trees, anything that can hide you.”
He handed Montresor the green flare. “If you see any helicopters overhead, light this and hold it up. They’ll know you’re the hostages and not enemy combatants.”
As Montresor and the others gathered around the door, Joe took another look outside.
“What about my mom?” Tanner Westgate asked. “Kurt will find her,” Joe said. “You can count on that.” The little faces streaked with tears clutched at Joe’s heart.
When each of the young children was holding hands with an adult, Joe snuck forward, made sure the path was clear, and then waved them out.
He led them about halfway, and when he was certain they were clear of the firefight he pointed toward the wall. “Go,” he said, urging them forward, “get over that wall and don’t look back.”
As the prisoners scrambled into the darkness, Joe turned back toward the sounds of engagement. Gazing down the hill, he could see the firefight in all its nighttime iridescent glory. From the tracer fire it was clear that Lt. Brooks and his men were getting shot to pieces from three sides as thirty or forty of Brèvard’s men slowly closed in around them.
Joe began to move forward. “Unbelievable,” he whispered. “All this time I’ve been waiting to call in the cavalry and it turns out I am the cavalry.”
With that thought in mind, he pressed forward, unsure of what, if anything, he might achieve.
As the chaos outside grew, Kurt and Calista found themselves in a running battle with the rest of Brèvard’s men. They’d made it down one hall, with Kurt laying down a suppressing fire to keep those behind them at bay, only to run smack into a second group coming the other way.
Now, halfway to the control room, they were caught in cross fire, with shots coming at them from both ends of the hall.
“Get behind me,” Kurt said to Calista as he returned fire. “You should have given me a gun,” she said.