One Rough Man

crushing it. I let the man fall, his mouth working like a fish out of water, his lungs pumping to get air in through his destroyed windpipe.

I had now cleared the entire house and seen no sign of Jennifer. Shit. Maybe they took her. I knew I was running out of time. If I was still here when the men from the Plaza Mayor returned, I would be dead.

* * *

Jennifer was yanked up from the floor by her hair. On her knees, her hands cuffed to her front, her face swelling from the earlier blows, she looked up at the lead guard before her. He leered down, holding on to her head by her hair.

He drew his finger across his throat and said, “You no bite.”

He then unbuckled his pants, dropping them to his knees. The rest of the guards giggled like they were on a school outing to an amusement park, anticipating their turn on the ride.

Jennifer looked into the man’s eyes, saying, “Por favor… Por favor… Por favor.”

The man only laughed. She lost all hope. She was nearly catatonic, resigned to the atrocities about to occur. The man let go of her head and began to lower his dingy, stained underwear. She looked up at him again, praying to see some sign of humanity, some shred of decency that would make him rethink what he was doing. Instead, she saw his head explode like a burrito in a microwave. She stared uncomprehendingly as the man fell over backward.

Before his death could register, a cyclone of violence erupted around her, the head of man after man exploding as if touched by the hand of God. The local standing behind her grabbed her around the neck and jerked her to her feet, shielding his body with hers. He placed a knife against her throat and whirled her around toward the door. Her eyes focused on a man advancing toward them holding a rifle pointed directly at her.

40

I placed the crosshairs on the head of the man holding Jennifer. He was about thirty-five feet away, far enough that I didn’t trust the zero of my weapon to make the surgical shot required to kill him without risking Jennifer.

When I had initially entered I had seen Jennifer on her knees with nothing on but bra and panties, five men surrounding her, one facing her with his pants down. I had come very close to leaving the zone I had been in since starting the assault, my rage exploding from the depths of my soul. No, no. Not helping. I suppressed it and set about killing the men as rapidly as possible, with all of the emotion of someone mowing the lawn. All were focused on Jennifer. None had a gun within arm’s reach. They stood no chance. I killed the first four as easily as shooting a Bianchi Cup at an IPSC match, squeezing the trigger in an easy rhythm as the men scattered like roaches caught by a light.

Before I could complete the string, the fifth man had managed to put Jennifer in front of himself, using a knife to control her. He was shouting something in Spanish. Unfortunately for him, I didn’t have a clue what he was saying.

I moved forward at a fast walk, closing the distance to her, my weapon raised and ready. The man became shrill, shouting the same thing over and over, his eyes getting wide, attempting to drag Jennifer backward. When I was five feet away, I aimed for the eye orbit and pulled the trigger, knowing that when the bullet tore a channel through his brain it would sever the medulla oblongata, reducing his body to a useless sack of flesh and removing the risk of the knife reflexively jerking and hurting Jennifer. Blood and brain matter sprayed out, coating the right side of Jennifer’s face in a fine mist. She sank to the floor, staring vacantly at nothing. The violence she had just witnessed, in addition to the trauma of her kidnapping, had caused her to shut down. I just prayed that I had gotten to her in time to prevent any assault.

I left her sitting down and searched the bodies on the floor until I found the keys to the handcuffs on her wrists. After unlocking her, I shook her shoulders, constantly talking to her. Eventually, she looked at me with recognition.

“We have to get out of here. Can you walk?”

She nodded in a vacant way. I realized that I had to get her some clothes and shoes. We still had to get to the jeep, and Jennifer would be ripped to shreds moving through the jungle at night nearly naked.

I helped her up, continuing to talk in a calm, deliberate manner. “We’re still in danger. I’m going to have to continue clearing rooms as we leave. We’ll find you some clothes as soon as possible. Stay behind me, but I want you to stay in the last room we’re in, only coming in when you hear me call. Can you do that?”

She nodded again, this time with more focus. I smiled at her, encouraging her to engage me.

“I’m going to lead the way. When we get to a door, I’m going to be aiming at it to prevent any surprises. I can’t turn around to find you. I want you to keep your hands on my assault harness. When you’re ready for me to proceed, squeeze my shoulder. Can you do that?”

She spoke for the first time. “Yes. Just get me the fuck out of here. Please, please, get me out of here.”

I smiled again, lying through my teeth. “Don’t worry, the hard part’s over. You have nothing to worry about now. Let’s get going.”

I moved back to the open door, scanning the courtyard between the mansion and the warehouse facility. To the left I saw the guesthouse. Maybe it would contain some clothing.

“When we leave here, I’m going to focus my attention to our right, on the main house. I need you to focus to the left. If you see anything at all, jerk my harness and I’ll reorient. I can’t see three hundred and sixty degrees simultaneously, so you’ll be the only thing keeping us from getting smoked from the left. Can you do that?”

When she nodded, I said, “We’re going to run to that house over there. Do you see the door in the front? I’m going to stop on the left side of that door. Are you ready?” She nodded again. “Okay. Let’s go.”

I exited the warehouse and sprinted forward, my weapon moving wherever my eyes went, training on every window and door I could see as I ran by them. I fully expected to spot a muzzle flash at any second. What the hell am I doing? Continuing an assault with my 2IC dressed in a bra and panties. I’ve lost my mind. We reached the building without getting shot at, which was a damn miracle. At the door, I waited until I felt Jennifer squeeze my shoulder, then turned the knob and entered.

41

Jennifer jumped when she heard gunfire erupt in the bungalow. She pressed herself up against the wall, her mind racing. The room had gone quiet, and she realized she didn’t know what to do if Pike never called. He could be dead. Maybe there’s a bad guy about to come out. No way are they getting their hands on me again. She was on the verge of racing across the courtyard when Pike called her in, telling her not to look at the floor. Relief flooded through her. She entered, seeing a man dressed in black sprawled on the floor in the foyer, his arms splayed out as if he was about to be crucified. She saw Pike crouching next to a door up ahead, his weapon at the ready. She wasted no time running up behind him and giving his shoulder a squeeze. She watched him splinter the door open with a kick, then disappear. She heard no gunfire. After a pause, she heard him say, “Someone’s living in this room, and I don’t think it was the guy I killed in the foyer. Check out the closet and luggage and see if you can find something to wear.”

Jennifer entered and went straight to the closet. She began going through the luggage, finding men’s clothing. She pulled out a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Digging deeper, she found a Quran, heavily worn and thumbed through, but didn’t find any shoes. She moved to a box in the corner of the room, finding some kind of gas mask and a Genie garage door opener, just like the one she’d grown up with. She held them up, saying, “Pike, what do you think these are for?”

Pike turned from the door and said, “I don’t know. Did you find some clothes?”

“I found a top and bottom, but no shoes.” She dropped the gear back into the box, moving to the other piece