11- Hunter Unbound

11

Hunter Unbound

Kim sprinted down the halls and was surprised with how fast her pursuers were.  She was small and had been a runner her entire life but the two chasing her managed to stay only a couple of steps behind.  The only thing keeping Kim alive was her knowledge of the platform and its ins and outs.  She zigged and zagged around corner after corner in order to keep the two men behind her from getting a clean shot at her.

It was just a stall tactic, however.  The chess match would not end in her favor.  The only way she would be able to gain some distance was to find a straight-away and turn on the speed, but if she did that, they would have plenty of time to take aim and blow her away.  If she kept on like this though, her capture was absolute.

She decided she had one chance.

She cut another corner as the men behind her yelled to stop, their voices getting louder as they closed the distance.  She had to do something crazy.  She had to trust her memory and gamble everything.

Gamble her life.

She cut one more corner and found herself on the inner walkway on the lower level. Over the railing, the ocean’s call could be heard from hundreds of feet below.  She was panting and the lack of oxygen to her brain must have been making her hear things but she could swear the water in which the platform sat, sounded… hungry.

She picked up speed as she heard the two guards come around the corner behind her. Would the walkway be there?  Would it be where she remembered it?  Was she leaping to her death?

She heard the guards scream their final warning as they shouldered their weapons to take the shot.

Kim stepped up onto the railing.

The guns behind her fired.

She leapt.

****

Cazador stared at Ein in disbelief.  This little pudgy man was full of surprises.  How had he evaded capture and sure death at the hands of Chavez and his men?

“You are an interesting man, Gringo,” Cazador said with a smile.

Ein stared down.  His eyes were searching Cazador for something.  “Who are these people?  What are you doing on this platform?”

Cazador raised an eyebrow.  “What makes you think I know them?”

“I know you do,” he said, his stutter all but gone, the desperation in his soul taking over.  “I know, because my father owned this rig.  I know you and Chavez have been here before.”

Cazador seemed to stare for a long minute then smiled, “We are both ex-military.  Mexican army.  He was in charge of my unit.  We were high level wet work men.”

Ein looked confused.  “Wet work?”

Cazador smiled.  “Illegal operations.  Black operations.”

Ein looked generally surprised.  “There are Mexican black-op’s teams?”

Cazador rolled his eyes.  “Just because our country is smaller doesn’t mean we have less secrets.  You looked smarter than that, Gringo.”

Eisenhower felt embarrassed and Cazador smiled.  “In any case, eventually we had enough of the government telling us what to do, especially since we understood how everything worked better than they did.  Chavez saw an opportunity to go rogue and become freelance drug and gun runners.  So, that’s what we did.”

“The Mexican government didn’t come after you?”  Ein was shocked that Cazador had made the whole thing sound so simple.

Cazador began to frown.  “They did.  But we put an end to that.”

Cazador was suddenly assailed by the images of the children, the bodies, and the terrible realization that even he could go too far.

“So, why hasn’t he freed you?”  Ein asked the obvious question.

Cazador smiled.  “We had a little disagreement some time back. The nasty Scar over his eye is evidence of that.”

Ein nodded, understanding.  “So you have been hiding out here, right under his nose, ever since.  That’s why the power was already on when we showed up.  You have been keeping it running.”

“You’re catching on, Gringo,” Cazador replied.  “In fact, I was in the engine room to turn off the power because I knew Cazador would be coming to switch out his stock soon and if he saw the power was on, he would know someone was here.”

Ein seemed to retract into himself as if considering some things.  Cazador put two and two together and figured out why Ein had come to see him.  It wasn’t that hard, actually.  The gringo had been banking on him having some problem with Chavez, or maybe being willing to barter his freedom.

“I see why you are here, Gringo.”  Cazador broke the silence and captured Ein’s attention.  “I can do what you can not.  I am the monster you need to slay your enemies.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”  Ein asked, quickly.

“You can’t,” Cazador responded.  “Not yet, but give me a chance to earn it.”

“What if you just take off?”  Ein inquired.

“Then you are in the same place, and have lost nothing,” Cazador responded, never breaking eye contact.

Eisenhower’s eyes suddenly narrowed.  “Years ago when you came to this platform with Chavez, there was a man named Nakatomi.  An engineer who oversaw the platform’s operation.  Do you remember him?”

Cazador’s face broke slightly and he looked nervous.  The look on his face had a hint of guilt to it.  “What does this have to do with anything?”

“He died in a tragic accident right after he refused to help you and the general,” Ein continued.

Cazador felt the room’s air change.  He didn’t want to remember this, another sin on a long list Cazador could never outrun.  “What do you want?”

“Did you kill him?” Ein asked, dead serious.

There was a silence as Cazador considered how to answer, when suddenly, they could hear voices down the hall.  The guards were returning.

It was now or never.

****

Harriet had shouldered the rifle like a pro, using every crappy action movie trailer she had ever sat through as an instruction video on how to be a gun toting psycho. “EVERYBODY FREEZE!”

The room stopped moving on queue.  The women stopped beating the guard behind her.  The one eating cereal froze with the gun halfway to his hand still hanging off his shoulder, his bowl having dropped and shattered lucky charms all over the floor.  The one who had struck Thad had his gun shouldered and pointed directly at her downed friend, but he watched her with his eyes.  The sleeping one on the floor had woken up but still sat there, arms crossed, starting at disbelief.

“DROP YOUR WEAPONS!” Harriet yelled in the silence and all the men stared.

There eyes were seasoned soldier’s eyes and Harriet knew their training was trying to find a way out of this, a way to regain control of the situation.  They hadn’t retired yet.

Would she actually have to kill someone?

“My English… not so good.”  The one who was sleeping on the floor began to speak in a kind and almost frighteningly nurturing voice.  “But senorita… this not good for you.”

“Tell them to DROP THEIR GUNS!” she yelled back to him.

He shook his head.  “These men… they not drop guns.”

“I’LL SHOOT!  I SWEAR TO GOD!” Harriet felt herself getting hysterical and tried to will herself back to sanity.

“You…” The Mexican constantly searched for the right words as he spoke. “You can no win… They no think you will shoot, and if you do, you not fast enough to get us each…”

Harriet tried not to listen, tried to keep control of the situation.  “So what are they waiting for then?  If they have me so screwed, why they haven’t made their move?”

The Mexican shrugged.  “They no fear you, senorita.  They wait to see who you will shoot.”

Harriet grimaced as she listened, as the Mexican continued to lay out the scenario in his broken English.  “If you shoot Miguel,” he nodded toward the one behind the counter, previously eating cereal, “you will kill him.  But Sancho,” the Mexican nodded at the man with the gun pointed at Thad, “will kill your friend and then you.  The same will happen if you… how you say… visa versa?”

“What if I shoot them both?”  Harriet questioned his strategy.

The Mexican did what was now becoming trademark shrug.  “I kill you.”

Harriet stood there stuck in the standoff, unwilling to give up everything they had just worked for.  “You are going to kill us anyway?  Why don’t I at least take one or two of you with us?”

“You could…” The Mexican replied calmly.  “But as your amigo on the floor could say… it is harder to look down the barrel then to say you can…  You want life.  Even if only small time left.”

Tears dripped down Harriet’s face.  They came from anger.

They came from fear.

She gritted her teeth in pain and anguish.

 “This is hard.  But you must choose soon.” The Mexican continued.  “If you do not… we will all move and force you.”

Harriet’s lip quivered as she tried desperately to keep it together, but the fact remained…

…she had already lost it.

Her hands felt numb.

The gun fell to the floor.

As did their hope of surviving.

****

She was dead.  She leapt over the edge and plunged to her death.  The guards were shocked by the action but what’s done was done.  They then realized their place and headed back to their post.

They made small talk about what they had just witnessed.  In all their years they had seen a lot, but never a woman work so hard to leap to her own death.  It was downright strange.

Either way, it was done.

They returned to the door and decided it was best to check on Cazador, just to make sure.

They opened the door and there stood a short, slightly pudgy American with his hands in the air.

“Don’t shoot!” He said in English.

Both the guards pulled up their guns and leveled them on the American, and he took a  breath and closed his eyes.

That’s when the guard noticed the chair out of his peripheral view.

He noticed the chair was empty.

****

Ein watched as Cazador moved forward out of the shadow of the open door.  He took a breath and closed his eyes.

He didn’t want to die here.

He heard one of the guards scream something in Spanish, then a wet thud noise.

He opened his eyes to see one of the guards hit the floor.  The other reacted, spinning a second too late.  Cazador had moved in close and grabbed the end of his gun with his right hand.  The guard pulled the trigger out of reaction and a burst of gunfire exploded throughout the room.  The shot was so much louder then Ein had expected and his ears rang in pain.

Cazador’s other hand lashed out to the guard’s belt, where a large hunting knife was sheathed.

Cazador grabbed the hilt of the knife and, in one quick motion, drew the blade and slashed the Mexican’s carotid artery with his own weapon.

The guard dropped to the floor, clutching his own neck in a vain attempt to keep his blood from rushing out of his body.  In another second, he laid back and ceased to be a human.

The other was already dead, Cazador’s first blow having pushed his nose into his brain.

Two men lay dead at Ein’s feet and he stared in disbelief.  He had never watched someone die.

Never watched someone killed.

Never been a responsible party to such events.

Eisenhower Mills would never be the same.

Cazador picked up the machine gun, pulled the clip to check the ammunition, popped the clip back into the gun and racked the slide to chamber the gun.  He then turned to see Ein standing there, white as a sheet.

Cazador raised an eyebrow.  “Are you alright?”

Ein looked at him, and then promptly vomited.

TO BE CONTINUED….  

10-Personal freedom

10

 Personal Freedom

Long Before…

None of the workers could figure out how a kid so young could be on the rig for so long and never hurt herself, or fall off, or something else equally as terrible.  Kimberly Nakatomi was different.  She had been raised, nearly her entire ten year life, on the giant oil rig, Monoliths.  She had personally been on seventeen different oil rigs, each unique in its own way.  She had lived on every type as well, from floating production platforms, to compliant tower types, and now this semi-submersible.

 Kim was half Japanese and half American.  Her American mother, Mary, had died during Kim’s birth, leaving her father alone with the child raising responsibilities.  Kim’s father, Sato Nakatomi, was one of the world’s foremost platform engineers and was currently working under contract with Holster Oil.  Sato could not quit the one job he knew how to do and ended up taking Kim with him wherever he went.  Although children her age were never allowed on the platforms, the owners made a special exception for Sato because of his skills.

Kim dodged a worker as she sped along one of the lower catwalks.  She grabbed a railing and swung herself out and over the edge to the other side of the worker.  The worker, a man named Harry, who was exactly what the name sake advertised, spun.  “Jesus H Christ, kid!  Your gonna get yourself killed!”

Kim turned, still running backwards, “Don’t worry Harry, I’m fine!  Where’s my dad?”

Harry shook his head calling after her.  “Meeting room three!  But he’s in a…”

Harry trailed off as Kim disappeared from sight.

Kim moved at top speed seamlessly through the rig.  In her years aboard the rigs she had become adept at navigating the places, memorizing all the nooks and crannies, much like her father.  She couldn’t have an accident.  She was invincible.

She broke onto the outer edge and stopped at the railing, the pure sight of the Pacific Ocean standing before her.  The backdrop of a beautiful afternoon made her smile. Many kids would hate this kind of life, always moving around, never having a best friend or other things normal kids would have.  Not Kim, however.  To her, this was freedom. She loved her father and enjoyed his company and the workers aboard the rigs had always treated her like a little sister.

Kim was positive there was not a happier kid on the planet.

Kim was snapped out of her sudden loss into the beautiful view as she heard voices coming around a corner to her right.  She stood and waited, trying to catch her breath in order to hear what was being said.  A couple of seconds past and three men stepped out onto the walkway.  One was her father, the sight of which made Kim smile.  The others were two young, but overbearing Mexicans, both dressed in military attire.  One looked like a General, the other wore a plain green field uniform.  He wore a cap and aviator sunglasses, dark hair spilling out from under the hat.

The General smoked a stogie.  He was young to be a General and bald with a heavy beard and a distinguished look to him.

Her father looked bothered, and both men looked dominating.

They looked to be men that were capable of great violence.

“All I’m asking is three large crates, once a year?  Is not what I am offering generous enough?”  Kim caught the end of the General’s sentence as he spoke to her father.

Her father just stared back with a stalwart frown.  Kim had seen the look many times before, usually when she was in trouble.

The General finally sighed, “I will not make this offer again, senor.  Think about it, set up a life for your daughter with what I offer.”

The General turned, his dark haired bodyguard following, leaving Kim’s father standing there alone.  Kim watched as his resolve faded and she could suddenly see the fear on his face.

Kim had never seen him afraid before.  It scared her.  She looked out one more time at the ocean and had the distinct feeling that very soon she was going to lose something.

Something that meant everything to her.

****

Back in the present…

Ein stared at Kim as she hit a break in her story.  She had reached a memory too painful to be easy to say.  The whole thing was quite amazing.  Ein had become sucked into a plot, bigger than life.

“They killed him, didn’t they?” Ein asked.

Kim nodded, wiping her eyes quickly to stop herself before she started crying.  “He ‘slipped’.  That was the official report.  My father worked on rigs for almost forty years.  He didn’t slip.”

Kim adjusted herself.  “Anyway, soon afterward, Holster went bankrupt and the rig got shut down.  Your father took me in, having met me many different times.  He set up a fund to put me through college and take care of me.  All I wanted though has been to get back to my place.  To get my freedom back.”

Ein started to piece it together.  “So, these people are the Mexican smugglers who wanted the place all those years ago?  The ones that arranged your father’s death?”

Kim shook her head.  “It's my guess, but I’m not sure.  With no one laying claim to the rig, they could use it at will.  I do know one thing for certain…”

Kim looked up into Ein’s eyes.  “The General’s bodyguard is the man you have tied to a chair in the briefing room.”

****

Harriet and Thad were sitting at one of the tables with the other woman, The Doctor, finally wearing pants, had been exiled to a separate table by himself.  Harriet surveyed the situation, trying to think of a way out, while also trying to keep herself calm in the face of absolute doom.

Only two of the four guards actually watched them at the ready.  Between the other two, one was napping on the floor in a corner while the last of the four had helped himself to Harriet’s cereal in the kitchen and was eating her lucky charms directly from the box.

Dirt bag.

“If we are going to do something, it has to be soon,” Harriet said quietly, banking on the fact that the soldiers didn’t speak English.

“What if we just wait it out?  Maybe they’ll get what they want, and go,” one of the blondes said.

Harriet had a moment of fear as she couldn’t remember what her name was.  “They wouldn’t be so concerned with finding the rest of us if they weren’t planning on killing us.  Do you think they are going to let us sail back to America knowing what we know?”

“No way, they are going to kill us,” The red head chimed in.  Her name was Stephanie.

“What’s the plan?”  Thad asked, his heart pounding.  Finally he would get a chance to make up for his cowardice earlier.  And, he could do something.

“The girls and I get close to one of the guards on the alert and we tackle him, hopefully the other will be distracted and unable to shoot because of his buddy.  So, you lay him out with one of those anti-Doctor right hands.  Hopefully, that gives us guns before sleepy and grubby cereal hands, get a chance to move.”  Harriet laid out the simplicity of her bum rush plan in hopes that it was fool proof.

In hopes that it could get them all out alive.

Thad nodded, trying to strengthen his will, attempting to remove the fear that was welling up inside of him.  The ladies moved, all standing at the same time and beginning to make their way towards the guard.  The guard began to yell something in Spanish and angrily raised his gun.  He didn’t fire.

The girls were on him suddenly, like a swarm of deadly scarabs, each grabbing a limb and all screaming in high pitched voices, as they wrapped themselves around the guard scratching and calling.

The other guard turned, gun raised and began to scream commands in Spanish.  He wasn’t shooting, however.  Harriet was right, he didn’t want to kill the hostages against his commander’s orders, nor did he want to risk killing his brother in arms.  Thad had his opening and he stood.

It was now, or never.  He would finally get his chance at redemption.

Why wouldn’t his legs move?

Thad stood there.  He could feel the sweat beading on his forehead and his knees were shaking.  The image of the guard turning at the last second and squeezing the trigger was clouding his thoughts.  Thad could see himself being riddled with bullets like in a cheesy action movie where the friend of the main character is shot to hell by the bad guy.

NO!

Thad felt it happening again.

Not Again!

Thad didn’t want to die…

Harriet could see what was happening as if a slow motion tragedy was playing out before her.  The girls had the guard on the ground now and were working him over good.  Stephanie was actually raining close fisted blows down on the guards face while he covered himself with his hands.  As good as they were doing though, Harriet saw it all falling apart.

Thad had frozen up again.

She could see him, one foot to the right of the other guard, in perfect striking distance. He wasn’t moving though.  He just stood there, as if fighting some battle inside his own head.

Meanwhile, the small window began to close.  Fast.  The guard eating cereal had dropped the box and was going for his gun while the sleeper had begun to awake with a confused look on his face.

The Doctor dropped to the floor predicting violence.

Harriet had to do something and she screamed desperately.  “THAD!  HIT HIM!”

Thad suddenly snapped to.  Out of instinct, he balled his fist and stepped in on the guard.  Harriet’s scream had been double edged, alerting the guard to Thad’s presence to his left.  As Thad came in with the punch, the well trained Mexican soldier countered with a quick jab of the butt of his gun to Thad’s stomach.  The blow stopped Thad’s forward motion and doubled him over.  The soldier stepped in and drove the butt of the gun this time into Thad’s face.  The blow busted his lip and sent him sprawling to the floor.

Harriet brought up the rifle, this would be the only chance they had she had to make it work.

****

“This is insane, Ein.”  Kim whispered, as the two watched the guards smoke at the end of the hall.

The two guards stood in front of the door to where Cazador was held captive.  “Last time I checked, neither one of us can fight the Mexican army.”

Kim frowned at Ein’s response.  “We don’t even know if he’s alive in there.  Not to mention whether he’ll help us or not.  He could be working with them!”

Ein shook his head.  “You don’t guard a door if there’s a dead man or a friend on the other side.”

“You hit him with a pipe and tied him to a chair!” Kim insisted.

“And he put a sword to my throat and threatened my life,” Ein began to respond.  “Our relationship is off to a pretty bad start, true, but I think this is our best chance.”

Kim stared at him and the frown became a smile.  “You lose your stutter when you’re sure.”

Eisenhower’s eyes widen as the comment took him by surprise.  “I… Er… m-m-maybe I-”

Kim took a deep breath.  “Just in case.”  

Kim then grabbed Ein by the collar and kissed him, hard on the mouth.  She let the kiss linger and go deep.  Her passion was heightened by the life or death situation.  She then released a very confused and blushing Ein and took off down the hall.

Kim was aware there was only one way into the briefing room and the guards stood in front of it.  If Ein was to get to Cazador, the guards would have to be distracted.  Kim knew the platform better than anyone, and she was a runner.

Kim blew past the two unsuspecting guards.  As she did, she yelled.  “Bandahos”

The guards were stunned as she sprinted past for only a second.  They spit out their smokes and took chase.

Ein, in the wake of the kiss heard round the world, could only watch it unfold.  He realized what Kim had done and he suddenly found himself praying to every God that there was, that she had a plan.

 ****

All that was left was to wait to die.  Oddly enough, Cazador didn’t mind this fact.  He did wish he could go by someone else’s hand, as Chavez was an evil greater than himself.  At this point, though, it didn’t matter.

Death was death.

Death was freedom.

As far as Cazador was concerned, the joke was on Chavez.

Suddenly, the door began to open and Cazador realized that it was finally time.  He began to chuckle. “So will you be beating me to death personally amigo, or will you be having someone else do it?”

The door shut and Cazador’s eyes widened.

“Hunter.”  Ein said, as he stepped in front of Cazador.  “Cazador Means Hunter.”

To Be Continued…

9-Amigos

9

Amigos

In pressure-filled situations there are certain kinds of people who have the uncanny ability to rise to the occasion.  In the heat of danger they, like some kind of mythical phoenix, unfurl their wings and bring forth courage that is unshakable.

The Doctor was not this kind of person.

“We are college kids.  Eisenhower inherited the rights to the rig from his dead dad or some shit, so we came to party.”  The Doctor was telling the General everything with very little coercion.

“How many of you are there?” The General asked, sternly.

“Ten,” The Doctor answered immediately and without hesitation.  “No, eleven.  I keep forgetting the Mexican.”

The General’s eyebrow went up.  “Mexican?”

The Doctor nodded.  “Yeah, we have him tied up in one of the briefing rooms.  He calls himself some weird name like, cat door… or cod roar or something like that…”

The General’s head cocked to the side as The Doctor franticly searched his mind for the right name.  “Cazador?”

The Doctor stopped sputtering nonsense as soon as the General said the name.  “Yeah, that’s it.”

The General’s mouth slowly curled into a smile.  “You college kids captured Cazador?”  He began to laugh out loud. “This is going to be a good day!”

He then said something In Spanish to the rest of his men and they all began to laugh together, loudly.  The Doctor was confused, so he began to laugh loudly, too.

The General noticed that The Doctor was laughing and stopped.

His men stopped.

They all stared at The Doctor, who cut his laughter off quickly.

 “Tell me, Gringo,” the General said, “what about this situation do you find funny?”

The Doctor shrugged.  “Sorry, I’m terrible with peer pressure.”

The General nodded and grinned.  “This is what you will do.  You will lead my men to all of your friends and they will round you all up and put you in the mess hall.  You will then lead me to Cazador.”

The General turned and seemed to give these instructions to one of his men in Spanish.  He then turned back to The Doctor.

“Do you think I could put some shorts on?” The Doctor asked.

One of the Mexicans racked the slide on his AK-47.

“I’m gonna take that as a no.”  The Doctor said, and snapped into movement, walking past.  The Mexicans all fell into line behind the very scared, naked medical student.

The General looked out over the ocean and slowly put a Cuban cigar to his lips before lighting it.  He took a long drag…

“Cazador,” he spoke to himself, “right under my own nose the whole time.”

****  

Ein shut the door behind him slowly.  Kim was standing behind him, staring.  The waves of embarrassment were starting to hit him now that his internal conflict had been quelled.  The fact that he had just spent the last ten minutes crying in front of a beautiful woman who he barely knew, was catching up with him.

God, I looked like a fairy.

 He slowly turned to meet Kim’s gaze.  She was wearing a soft smile and the look of someone who was concerned.  Pity too.  Of course there was pity in her eyes.  Ein saw it and hated it.  He hated himself.

“I…I… er…. Um… I’m really, really s-s-s-ssorry about that in there…  I just don’t know w-w-w-w-what came over-” Ein stumbled through the explanation.  His stutter was made worse by the situation.

Kim shook her head and cut him off.  “Stop.  Really, its okay.”

“No it isn’t.”  Ein said, his gaze returning to the floor.  His frustration was clear.

Kim seemed to think for a second.  “I’m sorry.  I just thought you would want to see that. I didn’t think it would bother you so much.”

Ein’s face became a shaky smile.  “No, I’m glad I saw it.”

Kim looked confused, “Why?”

“It helped me come to a decision.”  He said, a little confidence coming into his eyes.

Kim smiled and paused.  “Let’s go get some food, Ein.  I want to tell you something.”

Ein smiled, happy to be off the subject.  “Sounds g-g-g-good.”

That was when they heard the shots.

****

 Cazador’s eyes came open as the door knob began to twist.  He took a deep breath and centered himself.  He would have to find a way to get out of this chair and off this rig fast.  He knew Chavez would be here soon and then it would be too late.

The door swung open.  Cazador sighed as he watched to machine gun toting, Mexican soldiers move into the room and clear it for hostiles in a standard fashion.  One of them yelled the word ‘Clear’ in Spanish and in walked Cazador’s nightmare.

It was officially too late.

The General, who Cazador knew as Chavez, stood in front of him, frowning.

Chavez looked Cazador over and his frown twisted into a smile and then, into a loud laugh.

“Are you serious?”  Chavez said in Spanish between the laughter.  “The Great Cazador, tied to a chair brought down by spring breakers?!”

Cazador frowned and exhaled, showing his frustration.  Chavez continued, “The man whose code name is ‘The Hunter’!  Taken down by Doogie Howser and his friends!”  The laughter continued to the point where Chavez had to prop himself on the wall to keep from falling over.

“You know, my old friend,” Chavez continued to mock Cazador.  “If I had known that all I had to do was send the cast of ‘90210’ after you, I would have done it years ago!”

Cazador had had enough.  “We haven’t been friends for a long time Chavez.”

Chavez smiled and brought his laughter under control.  “Come now, is that really any way to talk to an ex-comrade?”

“How’s the eye?” Cazador asked.  The humor in Chavez’s tone emptied from him like the water in a dirty tub after the plug had been pulled.  Even one of the guards seemed to sweat as the tone completely changed.

Chavez stepped in and slapped Cazador across the face.  He then grabbed Cazador’s hair and ripped his head back with his left hand.  Chavez’s right drew a larger scary looking bowie knife and pressed it to Cazador’s cheek.

“I have waited a long time for this… old friend.”  Chavez said the last part with a certain amount of hatred which was reserved for this situation.

“I’m going to take my time.  I’m going to carve you up, and then, I’m going to kill you.” Chavez continued.

“Promises, promises,” Cazador spat out the words, covered in hatred.

Chavez smiled, his dirty breath wafting over Cazador’s face.  “Don’t worry.  I will make sure to lie your body out next to that whore.  I want you to see how little you lost your life for.”

Chavez released his hair and in the distance, a series of gunshots could be heard. Chavez’s smile returned to him, “Right now, I have to tend to my unexpected guests.”

He turned and left.  As he did, he gave the order to guard Cazador to the two men in the room.

****

Harriet was hurled into the mess hall by her arm with such force that she stumbled, rolling into the makeshift dance floor from the night before.  She regained her footing and saw Thad and five of the women that The Doctor had brought.  She knew she wouldn’t be able to remember their names.

One of the four Mexicans with large guns fired a quick burst into the air.  All of the girls screamed in fear when he did this, then seemed to shrink away into silence.  Thad had the same face of panic that she had seen in the hallway.  Harriet could tell he was fighting his demons and that he would be useless.

Harriet stood.  “What the hell is going on?” she asked the Mexican who seemed to be in charge.

He said nothing.

“I asked you a question!” She yelled, pushing her glasses up her nose and advancing on the Mexican.

“SILENCIO!” The Mexican yelled and stepped in back, handing her with such force, her glasses came off and skidded across the floor.  She staggered and hit the ground.

“Harriet!”  Thad finally seemed to break his curse and moved to her.  “Are you okay?”

Harriet grabbed her glasses and brushed the blood from her lip.  “Fantastic.”

Finally, a big scary looking General with an eye patch walked in.  Behind him was the very naked Doctor, a gun to the back of his head.

This must be Chavez.

Chavez surveyed the room, as if doing a head count.  “There are only seven.  Did you lie to me, naked man?”

The Doctor shook his head.  “Of course not, you’re missing two.”

Thad’s face dropped.  “You mother fucker.  What the hell are you doing?!”

The Doctor ignored Thad.  “One of them is an Asian girl and the other is a short pudgy kid that stutters all the time.  He’s the one that owns the rig.  It was his idea to-”

It was hard to continue to talk to Chavez as Thad’s right hand connected to the side of The Doctor’s face with so much force, it sent the naked man toppling, ass over head, to the floor.

“You piece of shit!”  Thad screamed at him and in an instant there were four machine guns aimed at his head, as well as Chavez’s holstered automatic pistol.

Thad froze in his spot and Chavez walked over.  “I can understand your anger.  I too, know what it is to be betrayed by a comrade, but I would like to ask that you refrain from further outbursts.  Okay?”

Thad nodded, the fear returning to his eyes.

Chavez turned to the room.  “This goes for everyone here.  Please be patient while we look for your friends.  If you are not, one these men here, will shoot you.”

Chavez turned to walk out and one of his soldiers looked at him and spoke in Spanish.  “Sir, why not kill them all now?”

Chavez shook his head.  “We find the others and kill them together.  You four, watch this room.  I have two on Cazador.  I will take the remaining four of us and find the Americans.”

The soldier nodded then Chavez looked at him with a smile.  “Then, we have some fun.”

****

“This way.”  Kim said as she grabbed Ein’s arm.

They began to run through the hallways of the rig.  Ein was  instantly confused.  “Kim, where are we going?  What the hell were those, gunshots?  And more importantly, how do you know where you are going? ”

“Just trust me!”  She said as they moved through the halls.

Suddenly, she stopped then looked around as if getting her bearings.  She then seemed to focus on a large section of the wall.  She walked up to it and popped some kind of level.  The wall opened into what had to be a storage closet.  Kim grabbed Ein and shoved him into the small space.  She got in after him, their bodies pressing up against each other without any extra room to move.

“Kim I-I-I-I-I don’t think we s-s-s-should be doing this right … er... um… now.” Ein said, blushing heavily.

Kim pressed her hand over his mouth.  “Shhhh!” She whispered, and they were silent. Kim motioned for Ein’s attention to go to the small vented window in the door.  He watched as the five men moved past and down the hall.  They were speaking in Spanish and one of them seemed to laugh at something as they moved on.

Kim slowly took her hand off Ein’s mouth.  He whispered angrily, “What in the hell is going on?!”

“I haven’t been honest with you,” Kim said, quietly.

Ein looked at her.  “I can see that!”

“We have to move, just-” Kim started, but Ein cut her off.

“I’m not going anywhere until I know what’s going on!”  Ein said, rooting himself in place.

Kim frowned.  “It’s a long story.”

“Give me the abridged version, then.”  Ein responded stubbornly.

Kim sighed, knowing she’d have to come clean….

TO BE CONTINUED….

8-Small Legacies

8

Small Legacies

The shower was absolutely splendid.  Eisenhower had found a large mass shower room and it, of course, like the rest of the rig, mysteriously worked.  The hot water seemed to rejuvenate Ein’s mind.  As he showered, he began to think about his dream and everything else that plagued him as of late.

The dream was the first.  He didn’t have any problems with figuring out what it meant since George Orwell’s Animal Farm was one of his favorite books.  It had been, since he had discovered it in Mr. Thomas’ third period social studies class when he was sixteen. The dream itself represented his standard loathing for the current American system of government.  Ein already knew this though, and he felt that the dream had been trying to tell him something.

Ein put this current problem aside and decided to move on to the problem of the mercenary locked in the briefing room.  It had been a day, so far, and Ein knew he would have to go down there soon to feed him.  He would have paid anything to not have to do this.

Very secretly, Eisenhower feared Cazador.  The machete wielding, Mexican haunted every shadow and dark corner.  Ein was afraid that if he went down there to feed him, he would find Cazador escaped and then he would spend the rest of his life wondering when the machete was going to come.

People had been treating him like a hero, but in all honesty, he had been scared half to death.  The blow he had struck to Cazador’s head had been out of desperation and instinct, nothing more.

He had almost killed a man out of fear.

His rubbed his face trying to shake that image out of his head when he heard Kim’s voice calling his name.  He raised an eyebrow and turned, seeing the handle to the door move.  Ein opened his mouth to yell something, but it was too late.

The door swung open.  “Ein are you in- OH MY GOD!”

Ein made a quick and painful chirping noise and panicked, spinning around to find something to cover himself but there was nothing.  Kim pulled backward and, as if taking cover in a gunfight, shielded herself from the naked Ein.

 “I’m so sorry Ein, I just wanted to show you something I found.  I didn’t mean to ...uh... you know.”  Kim sputtered, embarrassed.

“Well…  At least now you know where the shower is.”  Ein said, followed by an awkward chuckle.

“Yeah, that’s true.”  Kim laughed too hard, adding to the feeling of unease.

A silence followed.

“Kim?”  Ein asked from inside the room.

“Still here.” She said, still sounding out of place.

“Can you… um… er…. h-h-h-hand me my shorts?”

“Oh,” Kim flushed red and looked down to see them on the ground.  “Sure.”

****

The Doctor slowly awoke.  For the first couple of seconds, he fought to remember where he was, how he had gotten there and what had happened the night before.  This is a common occurrence when you drink too much.  The Doctor then looked to his right and saw a tangled mess of blonde hair attached to a woman.  He wasn’t sure if it was Tiffany or Candy.  He had a hard time telling them apart.  He then looked the other way and saw another naked woman, the brunette, Sandy.  The three of them were all lying on his double sized air mattress, cramped under one blanket.

The Doctor then lifted the blanket and looked down.

He was naked.

Double whammy.

He grinned and got out of bed, buck naked.  He had to pee.  He stumbled into the metal hallway trying to find the bathroom.  The one thing he hated most about the rig so far was that all the rooms and hallways looked the same.  It was impossible to remember what was where.  After a couple of minutes of wandering, his waste problem was becoming a crisis.

Finally, he gave up on the bathroom and moved to the stairs, descending a couple of levels until he came out through one of the walkways above the ocean, below the actual structure.  He took a deep breath and smiled at the smell of the ocean breeze.  It was time to give back.

The Doctor took position and began to urinate over the railing, a sigh of relief escaping his mouth.  While peeing, he whistled, slowly recalling the momentous events of the previous night.  He even remembered getting that little nerd, Ein, wasted… and hadn’t he left with Eggroll?

“Maybe I got the little guy laid, that would be a hell of a thing, eh?” He said to himself.

It was then he noticed the boat.

It was a junky little thing, like a PT boat from Nam or something; big enough for maybe half a dozen people and some cargo.

“Huh, that’s strange.”  He said to himself, as he finished peeing.

He then turned to head back to the stairs.

He stopped, suddenly, because the barrel of a large assault rifle pointed at his head.  Behind the gun was a scary looking Mexican wearing aviator sunglasses and desert camouflage.

The Mexican motioned for him to follow, and The Doctor nodded, desperately.

Slowly, he followed the Mexican up the stairs and into the hallway inside the structure. Although now there was a whole group of militants.  Ten of them total, including the one with the gun on The Doctor.  All of them could have been clones of the first, with the machine gun in Chad’s face.

All but one.

In the center of the hall was another Mexican, a half smoked cigar coming out of his mouth.  Instead of a machine gun, he had a side-arm pistol in a fast draw holster around his waist.  He was dressed like Castro.  His head was shaved, and he had a full, but not overgrown, beard.

The Doctor, however, would remember him for the eye patch.

 The scar of a deep face wound began on his forehead and moved south over his eye and ended on his cheek.

This man looked at the naked American medical student.  “English?”

The Doctor nodded.

“This is good,” the General said, then he continued.  “So, at first when I realized there are people on my rig, I think that someone has found my cargo hold.  That a rival group or maybe the Americans, and this worries me.”

The Doctor listened as the General monologued.  “Then, I see a naked gringo stumble down the hall and take a piss off the side of the rig and I know now, none of these things have happened.”

The Doctor shook his head back and forth.  “So, my friend, the question I have to ask is this; who are you, and what are you doing on my rig?”

The Doctor swallowed, nervously.

****

Thankfully, they had moved off the subject of Eisenhower’s nudity.  Instead, Ein had started to tell her about the dream he had the night before.  He couldn’t, for the life of himself, figure out why he was babbling about this to a woman he had just met.  He had envisioned telling Harriet about it first.  She would have known what to tell him.

“… So, then I see the chipmunks on the island and they are happy and I wake up.”  Ein finished.

Kim took it all in, then replied.  “Well, that is interesting.”

“I- I- I look crazy now.” Ein said, feeling his confidence slip.

Kim shook her head.  “Not at all, I think the dream is cool.  Very George Orwell.”

Ein’s eye’s brightened.  She knew Orwell!  “Animal Farm!  That’s what I said.”

“Actually, I was just thinking about what I found.  It’s spooky how it fits in with your dream.”  Kim said, as they reached a door on what seemed to be the top floor.

“So what is this discovery?”  Ein asked, genuinely interested.

Kim smiled.  “See for yourself.”

She opened the door and walked through.  Ein followed into what seemed to be the executive quarters.  It had its own bedroom, a small kitchen and an office nook.  It could have been a good one-bedroom apartment.  It was easily nicer than anywhere Ein had ever lived.

“Wow, the power of money, huh?” Ein said as he looked around.  He thought it was funny that the guy who probably did the least work on the rig had the nicest room.

“It was your dads when he was on the rig.”  Kim said suddenly, and Ein turned.

“Really?  How do you know that?”  He asked, suddenly understanding that it was a simple connection, seeing as though his father was an executive.

“Take a look at this.”  In the center of the main room, there was a couch and a small coffee table.  On it, sat a large remote control.

Kim picked up the control and pressed a button.  The large flat screen mounted on the far wall clicked on.

Sitting in a big cushioned chair sat Harrison Holster, his face almost yellow from the kidney failure that would eventually kill him.  He looked sickly and full of sadness.  The man looked at the camera.

“Eisenhower, I can only assume you have found your way to your inheritance and are watching this DVD, which will be my last recorded… words.”  The ghost spoke slowly, obviously weak from his condition.

Ein’s face dropped and he slowly sat on the couch, his legs unable to support him.  Kim sat down next to him, pausing the recording.

“I stopped it here,” she said softly.  “I knew this next part was for you.”

“Press play,” Ein said softly.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yeah, but please, stay.”  Ein said this, not quite understanding why he wanted her there.  Maybe he just didn’t want to do this alone.

She nodded and he felt relieved.  She calmly pressed play and the recording continued.

The ghost of father’s past continued his haunting last words.  “I will be brief, as I don’t have much time.  I know you are probably full of emotion’s right now.  Rage.  Hate. Confusion.  You must wonder where I was all your life.  Honestly, I regret not being there for you, but I am not made to be a father.  Your mother and I were very different people.  Instead, I agreed to send money and support as long as she sent me pictures and updates.”

The old man began to tear up.  “I have watched you your entire life and I couldn’t be more proud.  Obviously, you choose a different life then mine.  Yours is a harder path and I have respected you for that.  I also see your hatred for the system through the various protests and marches you organized and, although I don’t understand the rebellion, not fully anyway, I respect it.”

He began a coughing fit.  It lasted for several minutes and Ein didn’t think he was going to be able to finish.

Harrison Holster brought it together.  “This Oil rig sits in international waters.  I give it to you as a sanctuary from the things that hurt you; from a river with which you refuse to swim along .  This rig is my last legacy and the only thing a failed old man can offer a son that has exceeded him.  Goodbye, Eisenhower Mills.  It was my honor and pleasure to know you.”

The DVD switched off.

Tears rolled down Ein’s cheeks.

TO BE CONTINUED…

7-Dream a little Dream

7

Dream a little dream

It was vivid and real to Eisenhower.

He stood on a street made of concrete and bone.  Before him, stretched miles and miles of pavement.  All around him, in some sort of time lapse, forward motion, buildings began to build themselves.  They were made of dark stone and had some sort of extra corruption to them that Ein couldn’t quite quantify or describe.

These buildings surrounded him, making him feel constricted and claustrophobic. Suddenly, the streets became populated by…

…Rabbits?

Yes, rabbits.  They were all around him, flooding the street.  They all looked sad and dirty.  Somehow Ein knew they were hard working and had good hearts, but could never ascend out of the dirty and grimy streets.  This was because of the…

…Squirrels?

Yes, squirrels.  The squirrels lived in the buildings and looked down on the rabbits from their twisted windows and chuckled to themselves.  The squirrels were well dressed and all wore monocles and were very, very clean.  The reason for this, was because the rabbits had to pay the squirrels to live.

The squirrels had convinced the rabbits, sometime long ago, that this was how it had to be or else their society would somehow become communistic.  In fact, the squirrels were no better than the rabbits and had no actual knowledge of anything other than how to convince the rabbits that they were right.

Needless to say, this endless world of sad rabbits and evil squirrels was anything but a happy place.

Then, Ein saw it in the distance… An island off a dirty shore where the evil city stopped - just barely.  Ein could make out that the inhabitants of the island were…

…chipmunks?

Once again, yes, chipmunks.  They had somehow escaped the city of sad rabbits and evil squirrels and made themselves a home.  They worked hard to stay alive but they were happy.  They decided their own future.

Ein wanted to be on the island, he wanted to escape, but the city closed in on him…

… There was no escape.

 Ein’s eyes opened and he remembered where he was.

Ein slowly pulled himself upright on the inflated air mattress he had bought on the way to the dock.  He rubbed his throbbing head and remembered the events of the previous evening.  He wished he had picked up some ibuprofen on the way too.

Ein gave up and pulled himself out of bed.  Still in the clothes from last night, he wandered down the hallway back toward the Mess Hall.  Ein rolled his eyes as he began to hear the music from The Doctor’s iPod still blaring loudly from the room.  Ein walked into the Mess and found himself disgusted.

Cans and bottles and plastic cups littered the ground and tables, as well as half eaten chunks of food.  Candy and Stephanie had passed out on top of each other on one of the tables.

Stephanie’s breasts were bared.

Ein shook his head and waded through the garbage to get to The Doctor’s iPod and switch it off, returning the room to sudden silence.  Ein opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water and opened it.

There is no coffee.  Why didn’t we get coffee?

Ein’s brain reeled at the lack of caffeine to fight his hangover.  He slowly shuffled over to Candy and Stephanie, finding some paper towels, he covered her breast, then smelled himself.

He was going to have to find a shower.  They all were.

****

Cazador slowly woke up at the sound of the door opening.  His eyes befell the homely beauty from earlier.  He believed her name was Harriet.  She was holding a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice.

“Back for more, Senorita?”  Cazador managed a smile.  “You will have to untie me to see my true talents.”

Harriet ignored the advances.  “How did you sleep like that?”

Cazador could see the general confusion on her face and shrugged.  “When you have been in the places I have been, you learn to sleep when you can, regardless of how comfortable you are.”

Harriet seemed to accept that, setting the food on a small desk then dragging it over to Cazador.  She then pulled a chair over and sat down.

“Alright,” she began with a look of intensity on her face.  “Here’s how we are going to do this.  You are hungry, I’m sure?”

Cazador shrugged again, his grin returning.  “I could eat.”

“Okay.”  Harriet nodded.  “I am going to ask you questions and you are going to answer me.  Then I’ll feed you.”

Cazador refused to stop smiling.  “I assume, then, if I don’t answer you don’t feed me?”

“That’s the gist of it.”  Harriet responded, her face still hard and determined.

Cazador chuckled.  “My dear, Senorita, torture doesn’t seem something you are capable of.”

“Try me.”  Harriet said, hiding her wavering confidence the best she could.

Cazador stared at her for a long time then spoke.  “Alright… try me.”

Harriet nodded.  “Alright, what’s your real name?”

“I gave that to you.”  Cazador responded, still watching Harriet’s eyes.

Harriet scrunched up her face.  “Cazador is Spanish for ‘hunter’.”

Cazador’s grin became a smile.  “It is the name on my soul.”

Harriet shook her head.  “Bad start.”

Harriet took a spoonful of the cereal and dropped it on the floor.

“Tsk, tsk.  Such a waste.”  Cazador said, sarcastically.

Harriet looked at him and he cocked his head to one side.  “Let me save you some time, Chica.”

Cazador lashed out a foot and violently kicked the desks legs out from under it.  The cereal was sent crashing to the floor.

Harriet stared, shocked as Cazador explained.  “One time, in the field, I was lost behind enemy lines…”

Harriet’s gaze came back to meet Cazador’s as he spoke.  His eyes were suddenly cold and lifeless as he took himself somewhere he hated to go.

“Half a battalion of the enemy was looking for me while I crawled through the brush and jungle.  I was lost for eight days while they searched and I waited for my allies to make a move.  I became El Diablo.  I ate the blood of snakes to survive.  Raw, because a fire would alert them to my presence.”  Harriet shrunk back in her chair as the darkness of Cazador’s story washed over her.  “So you will have to excuse me if your terribly thought out cereal torture does not have the effect you would have hoped for, Senorita.”

Harriet struggled to find words.  “I’m sorry.”

Cazador’s eyes warmed again and he smiled.  “Don’t be, you are only worrying for yourself and your friends sakes.  I’m assuming you found the merchandise hold.  Now you know that what I’m saying is true?”

Harriet nodded in response.  Cazador continued, “Chavez is a bad man.  He will come within the week with five to ten others.  They will all be armed.  They will be trained. When they find you all here, they will rape and kill you all.”

Harriet gritted her teeth.  “What do we do?”

“Let me go and I will show you.” Cazador spoke with desperation, but inside he was grinning ear to ear.  He had her.  She was going to let him go.  He was going to be free again, and then…

“Harriet.”  Thad’s voice startled the two of them.  Harriet spun around to see her skinny friend in the doorway looking concerned.

“You can’t."  He said quietly.

Harriet nodded.  “I know.”

Harriet stood and began to walk through to the door.

Cazador suddenly let his rage get to him.  He began cursing in Spanish.  “You stupid puta, kids.  They are going to kill everyone, don’t condemn me to the same fate!”

Harriet didn’t respond and her and Thad left the room and shut the door while Cazador screamed obscenities from inside.  Thad groaned, then he took a deep breath.

“We have to tell everyone else,” he said, concerned.

“No,” Harriet said and Thad turned, confused.  “We can’t trust him.”

Thad shook his head.  “But if what he said is true, then we-”

Harriet cut him off.  “Just give me a day to think on it, Thad.  I’ll figure something out. Just a day.”

Harriet then turned and walked down the hallway.

TO BE CONTINUED…