The Devil's Own (Hellraisers 2)

It was almost daybreak before Linc and Joe returned. Kerry, who had been dozing, was so relieved to see them unharmed that she didn’t immediately comprehend their defeated expressions.

Their postures heralded the failure of their mission. Both went directly to the stream and scooped up generous handfuls of water, washing off the camouflaging mud as they drank. When Linc finally turned around, he stared at Kerry through dejected eyes.

“What happened?” she asked.

“We didn’t get anything,” Linc told her, keeping his voice low. “Couldn’t even get close. They were on alert and didn’t relax their guard for a single minute. We circled the camp all night, hoping to find a goldbricker asleep at the switch. There was no such soldier in that whole outfit.”

He backed against a tree and slid down its trunk, bending his knees as he went, until his bottom touched the ground. Then he rested his head against the tree trunk and closed his eyes. “Anything happen here?”

“No. The children slept. A few of them woke up saying they were hungry, but I managed to lull them back to sleep.”

Joe, in a poignant imitation of Linc, sat leaning against another tree and closed his eyes. He was a man now, having done a man’s job. He might resent Linc, but he held a grudging admiration for him, too. Kerry touched Joe’s knee and, when his eyes opened, gave him a smile that said, “I’m proud of you.” The boy smiled back.

She left him to rest and sat down beside Linc. “How much farther to the border?” she asked.

“About a mile.”

“We won’t have any trouble making it there by the deadline.” The plan was to meet the plane at noon, in hopes that if any troops were nearby they would be sleeping off their midday meal and the afternoon heat.

“I just wish to hell I knew what we were going to do once we get there.”

Linc’s weary sigh had a frightfully pessimistic sound to it. Kerry clutched at straws. “If we can’t board the plane without risking the children’s lives, we’ll just slip across the border.”

“And then what?” Linc asked impatiently. His red-rimmed eyes opened and focused on her. “It’s just more of the same over there.” He indicated their jungle surroundings with a flip of his hand.

“For miles there’s nothing but jungle. God knows how far it is to the nearest outpost of civilization. And the neighboring country doesn’t want Monterican refugees adding more of a strain to their struggling economy. You’ll find them inhospitable if not downright hostile. If we could convince them to give the kids political asylum, what do we do in the meantime? Where are we going to get food for supper tonight? Water? Shelter?”

His negativity sparked Kerry’s temper. “Well, then you think—”

“Shh!”

Joe sprang to his feet, poised to listen. He cocked his head to one side. After a moment, he shot them a warning glance and silently crept forward. Kerry made a move to detain him, but Linc’s fingers encircled her wrist like a manacle and jerked her back down beside him. He shook his head vigorously when she opened her mouth to speak.

Joe disappeared into the deep green shadows of the jungle. The waiting seemed interminable. Linc eased himself up to his haunches and scanned the area with piercing eyes. Kerry felt useless. She only hoped that none of the children woke up making noises.

No more than a minute had elapsed before Joe stepped through the trees, closely followed by a guerrilla fighter. Recognizing him instantly, Kerry stood and rushed toward him, avoiding Linc’s precautionary restraint.

“Hola, Juan,” she whispered.

“Hermana,” he responded with a respectful inclination of his head.

Linc joined them. His guard was relaxed now that he recognized the soldier as the one Kerry had pointed out to him the day before. He looked like all the others, except that he was younger than most, sixteen maybe. His features hadn’t hardened into a cold mask yet, though he already had the alert bearing of a trained guerrilla fighter. He and Kerry carried on a low, rapid conversation. When he gave Linc a suspicious once-over, she explained who he was.

“He’s brought us two guns,” she told Linc. “He says they’re all he could smuggle out of the camp.”

She shied away from the machine guns as Juan handed one to Linc and the other to Joe. Linc checked them both out. “Perfect working condition. Ammo?” The rebel handed him several clips of ammunition.

“Thanks.”

“De nada.”

“Ask him if his group knows who we are and what we’re up to,” Linc told Kerry.

“No, he says,” she told Linc after translating his question and hearing Juan’s answer. “Since we were in the government truck, they think we’re inexperienced stragglers or possible deserters looking for a band of rebels to join. They intend to follow us until they find out.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Linc gnawed on his lip for a moment. “Ask him what would happen if he explained to his commander who we were. Would he let us go?”

The soldier listened, then shook his head vehemently. Kerry translated his quick response. “He says that they probably wouldn’t kill us, but that they would try to take the airplane for their own use. Our only hope, he says, is to get to the plane as quickly as possible. He’ll try to divert his squadron away from the designated landing place.”