Payback (26 page)

Or
maybe
he’s
dead?

“What
happened?”

“He
tried to rape me.”

“Oh my
God, are you okay? Did he…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words, the
very idea of vocalizing them sickening, as if it would make it that much more
real. But Tanya was suffering, and she needed her help. “Did he hurt you?” she
finally managed, the words a whisper.

Tanya
shook her head, vehemently. “I cut it off.”

Sarah
fell backward, looking up at her friend. “You what?” She knew what the words
meant, but she wasn’t sure if ‘it’ was really
‘it’
. She secretly hoped
‘it’ meant what she was thinking.

“I cut
it off. Clean off. With a scalpel.”

Sarah
bit her knuckle, hard, trying not to laugh with delight, the horror of the
situation still not lost on her, but still she couldn’t help herself. “You mean…his
penis…you cut it off?”

“I
sliced the goddamned thing off and tossed it away like a piece of gristle.”
Tanya looked at her and smiled bashfully. “Was that okay?”

Sarah
finally let herself laugh, pushing herself back up on her knees, grabbing Tanya
by either side of her face, touching foreheads. “Oh you brave, brave, girl. Of
course it’s okay!” Tanya suddenly hugged her, sobbing and laughing, and the two
of them sat there for a moment without saying anything. Sarah finally gently
pushed her friend away, holding her shoulders and looking into her eyes. “Where
did he go?”

And it
was the critical question. If he had time to get away and tell someone, they’d
be looking for them and if the wrong person found them, they’d be dead, or
worse, raped like originally intended.

But
not by that bastard.

“Nowhere.
He’s still behind the building.”

“Really?
Didn’t he run away?”

Tanya
shook her head. “I sliced his femoral artery. He was out cold within thirty
seconds. I’m sure he’s dead by now.”

Sarah
felt her chest tighten. “We have to hide the body, now.”

Tanya
nodded. “I tried but he’s too heavy.”

“We’ll
do it together.” Sarah pushed herself to her feet and helped Tanya to hers.
“Show me.”

Sarah
stepped into the hallway, looking both ways to make sure they were alone, then
led Tanya out by the hand, heading quickly for the rear exit. Opening the door,
she looked outside and saw no one, the community center backing onto a cleared
area then trees. Running toward the back, Tanya in tow, she rounded the corner
and gasped. The amount of blood was incredible. The driver she remembered as
Mohammed lay in the center of it, one hand gripping his groin, the other
outstretched in front of him, his eyes closed, his skin a sickly color she had
seen too often in her line of work.

There
was no doubt he was dead, drained of blood.

She let
go of Tanya and grabbed the outstretched arm, beginning to pull. “Help me!” she
grunted, Tanya frozen in place. “Tanya, help me!”

Tanya
finally moved, taking the other arm. Between the two of them they managed to
drag the deadweight to the rear entrance when Sarah stopped.

“What?”
asked Tanya. “We have to hurry before someone sees us!”

“They’ll
be searching for him.”

Tanya
looked at her and nodded. “Which is why we need to hide him. Now!”

Sarah
shook her head. “If we put him inside they’ll find him and know we did it.”

Tanya
looked over her shoulder at the distant tree line. “There’s no way we can get
him all the way over there. And besides, they’ll find him anyway.”

Sarah
motioned toward the front of the building. “We’ll put him in Zone Three.” Tanya’s
eyes opened wide then she smiled slightly as she too realized it was the
perfect hiding place. “I’ll make sure it’s clear.” Sarah let go of the body and
walked toward the front of the building. Nobody was at the rear entrance to
Zone Three. The only problem now was the lack of protective gear.

They’d
have to risk it.

She
rushed back to Tanya and grabbed Mohamed’s loose arm. “It’s clear.” She began
to tug when she noticed Tanya not helping. She turned. “What?”

“We
don’t have any equipment.”

“I know.
We’ll have to chance it, we have no choice. If they find him, we’re dead
anyway. If we catch Ebola, there’s at least a fifty-fifty chance we’ll survive.
I prefer those odds to certain death.”

Tanya
nodded, beginning to pull again. “We need to survive until the Americans get
here.”

“Koroma
had me infect him and eight others with the virus,” grunted Sarah as they
pulled the two hundred pound man in jerks. “He was going to kill me when
Mustapha arrived with IV supplies.”

“Really?”
Tanya sounded excited. “With those we might actually save some of these
people.”

“Agreed.”
The word was strangled out, her muscles screaming for relief. She moved two
hundred and even three hundred pound men around in her daily life, but it was
always on a gurney or at least with some of their own power helping her.

Never
had she pulled a deadweight across dirt for a couple of hundred feet.

She was
exhausted.

She
peered around the corner and they were still clear. In one last, all-out effort
they pulled him as quickly as they could toward the door. She opened it,
looking inside, seeing no one but the dying. Trying not to touch anything with
her hands, she took a deep breath and yanked the body inside, eying an empty
spot nearby. A few more tugs and the body was flopped into place.

They
raced outside.

She
gasped for air, her lungs screaming in protest. Tanya already had the hose
pumped, the bleach solution spraying on Sarah’s feet then her outstretched
hands, Sarah returning the favor before they sprinted to the other exit that
led to the showers. Inside they stripped and shared the shower, Sarah’s
discomfort over being completely naked with another woman forgotten.

Tanya
turned the water off and hugged Sarah, tight. Sarah returned the hug, her
discomfort slowly increasing as she remembered they were both buck.

“The
Americans are coming,” whispered Tanya.

Sarah’s
heart leapt. “What?”

“I
overheard them. The Americans are on their way. We just need to keep alive
until they get here.”

Sarah
pushed Tanya away, holding her by the arms, a huge smile of doubtful hope on
her face. “Are you sure?”

Tanya nodded,
a huge grin on her face. “I’m positive. I overheard them talking. That’s why he
was going to rape me then kill me.”

Sarah
rushed toward the change area. “We need to get into the clinic and act as if
nothing is happening. They could be here any minute, or it could be hours.” As
she quickly toweled off she began to think about the blood at the rear of the
building and decided to go back outside and at least kick some dirt over it. If
someone walked in it there would be no hiding it, but if a casual observer were
to look in the general direction, they at least wouldn’t see anything.

She
froze.

“We
forgot the penis!”

Tanya looked
at her, stunned, then suddenly a snicker escaped. And another. Sarah giggled,
and within seconds both were laughing uncontrollably, the nervous energy they
had been operating under now out of control.

Somebody
hammered on the door, silencing them.

“What’s
taking you so long?” demanded Mustapha from the hallway.

“I had
to shower. We’ll be there in one minute!” shouted Sarah, the moment of levity
abruptly over, fear once again the order of the day.

But
they’re coming!

Samaia, Sierra Leone

Abdallah pulled a long drag of his cigarette, his last one. He was
determined to savor it himself, which meant he had to make sure none of the
others saw him—they’d ask him to share.

Not
my last damned cigarette.

He had
no idea when he’d get more. Mustapha had just arrived with a truck load of
bagged water. What the hell they needed bagged water for, he had no idea,
though one of the others had said it was actually medicine.

They’re
all dead already. We should just kill them now so they don’t suffer.

Both his
parents had died months ago and he had no family of his own. It meant he had
nothing to lose when Major Koroma had approached him for help. He had been more
than willing to. Koroma was like a big brother to him, someone he had known as
a little boy, Koroma at least ten years older. He had tried to model himself
after the man, joining the army and trying to get assigned to his unit.

He had
succeeded, and now was prepared to die to support his childhood hero.

Though
he secretly hoped to avoid that.

He was
too junior to have been chosen to head to America as part of the strike force,
instead he had been chosen to be a decoy, to keep the authorities occupied here
should they be found. It would most likely mean his death, but as long as the
doctors were dead first, then his job would be done, the authorities hopefully
thinking they had killed all involved.

At least
long enough for the others to complete their task.

He
kicked at something on the ground, it rolling in the dirt, dried grass sticking
to it.

What
the hell is that?

He bent
over and picked it up, his cigarette, dangling out of his mouth, forgotten.
Standing straight, he turned it around in his hand.

Then
gagged.

Tossing
it away, he bent over and heaved, his cigarette hitting the ground before his
lunch, as the realization of what he had just picked up set in. He stepped away
from it and felt his feet slip out from under him, sending him backward,
landing hard on his back with a splash, something soaking through his shirt. He
pushed himself into a seated position and looked at his hands.

Oh my
God!

“Something’s going on,” rumbled Atlas, lying prone beside Dawson,
looking through the scope on his MP5. “Guard at the two-three corner.”

Dawson
watched as the man bent over to pick something up, examining it. “What the hell
is that?”

“Day old
sausage?”

Suddenly
the man threw it away as if it were crawling with maggots, jumping back as he
did so. He slipped, falling on his back. As he sat up, the back of his uniform was
soaked in something dark.

“Is that
blood?” asked Atlas.

“I think
so. Take him out.”

A
single, muffled shot rang out, the man, not yet standing, crumpled to the
ground. “Move! Move! Move!” hissed Dawson as he leapt to his feet. Charging
forward, using the back of the community center as cover, he and Atlas along
with half a dozen British Marines raced across the field toward the small
village. It was hot, hard work, all of them dressed head-to-toe in bunny suits
and gasmasks, the internal temperature through the roof.

Intel
suggested less than 500 lived here on a good day, yet it appeared almost
abandoned other than soldiers lazily walking through the streets. Not a single
civilian had been spotted since they arrived, most likely all hiding inside out
of fear of the soldiers and the disease ravaging their country. If the
civilians just stayed inside, this might be a cakewalk.

“Bravo
Zero-One, Bravo One-One. I’ve got activity at the front of the community
center, over.”

Of
course.

“Any
sign they’ve made us?”

“Negative,
but I’ve got eyes on our two hostages.”

Dawson
smiled. “Roger that. Control, did you copy that?” Dawson pressed his back into
the wall of the community center, using hand signals to send four of the
marines to the three-four corner.

“Confirmed,
Bravo Zero-One, relaying information, over.”

Dawson
peered around the two-three corner toward the front of the building, no one in
sight, then signaled for everyone to advance.

Somebody
shouted.

Shit.

“So you think you can save my people?”

Sarah
drew in a slow, deep breath, slightly shrugging her shoulders. “I hope so. At
least now there’s hope, thanks to you.”

Mustapha
smiled, looking at the large stack of supplies standing by the side of the
clinic, some of his men moving it inside and out of the sunlight. So far it
appeared that no one had discovered that Mohamed was missing and though Koroma
was gone, she felt safe from the others with Mustapha here. He seemed to be an
honest man who genuinely wanted to help his people, who seemed to understand
the need to help those inside the clinic medically. According to Tanya he had
apparently expressed doubts about Koroma’s ultimate mission, which gave her
hope that he may actually let them live.

He had
already saved their lives just by arriving with the supplies, and these past
several hours of bought time she had put to good use. All of Zone Two were
already hooked up to IV’s, including Koroma’s daughter, and they were now
taking a little rest before they tackled Zone Three where there was much less
hope of saving anyone, but they had to at least try.

Somebody
shouted.

Sarah
spun toward the outcry to see one of the soldiers sprinting toward them,
yelling something in Krio and pointing toward the rear of the building. Sarah’s
heart leapt into her throat as she realized the pool of blood must have been
discovered.

Tanya
grabbed her arm, trying to will a message to her with only her eyes, a message
that didn’t seem to have any fear it, only hope. And that’s when she realized
what was being shouted.

They’re
here!

She
stepped back, away from the approaching soldier when Mustapha’s hand darted out
and grabbed her by the arm. He pulled his weapon from his holster as their eyes
met.

“I’m
sorry, Doctor.”