Eleven

Ramirez reasoned with himself, "If they came through all this way, they had to have been trying to reach help. This is as far as they made it."

He turned back to the trail and made for the river again. They had the team back at camp, and he needed to reach them. Time to move. A jogging pace pushed him back where he leaped as far into the water as he could and swam furiously to where he got a foothold. He was more prepared for the current this time and aimed straight for a small patch of stones embedded in the riverbed. Water rushed, ice cold and as clear as glass, around his waist and thighs as he stomped out of the current, squishing in his boots.

He threw himself at the rocky shore and forced his numb, soaked legs into a quick, steady jog. If he wanted the whole story, then he had to get to them. Through the bushes and trees, he ran, always watching, always listening, waiting to hear voices, footsteps laughter, a lighter, anything. His boots cleared large stones in one leap, bounded through thick brush, and navigated around trees. Shortly after nightfall he made it back to the encampment.

He stopped behind the shed hiding the three bodies. "How am I going to get inside the town hall without being seen?" he thought, "shoot a couple rounds to draw the enemy away? Grenade?" his mind worked at the problem furiously, and he swore at himself violently. He knew this was too much trouble to have been overlooked in the scouting process.

I can't even call for support. No signal." He seethed silently. "If they suspect trouble, they'll put a bullet in their heads, and be done with it…"

He reached into his leg pouch and removed a short cylinder, shouldered his rifle, and screwed the silencer onto his pistol. He double checked the magazine, and moved through the trees toward an old, red, steel tractor and dug out one of his two grenades. He untied a length of cord from his wrist and tied the grenade securely to the gas tank.

The last length of cord split, and he tied thin sections end-to-end for a tripwire. Low, from pin to shed he secured the cord. Next, he cut the wires and twisted the two together causing the engine to turn over and roar, chugging to life. As soon as he had it, he snatched his pistol back from the tractors seat and headed back into the trees and toward the town hall.

As he approached the edge of the trees, a guard stumbled drunkenly behind the building near where he was about to emerge. Hesitating in the shadows for a few seconds Ramirez raised his weapon and fired. The one fluid motion dropped the man where he stood. Nothing but a brief flash and a low "plew" came from the gun. Quickly, he snatched the guard's hat off and tied a length of cloth around the head wound. Ramirez stripped the guard's weapons and stashed his own in the brush a few yards away.

The body was heavier than he expected, but he managed to haul the guard onto his shoulder and back into the trees. Every scrap of clothing the guard was wearing came off. Ramirez quickly removed his own and exchanged them. Finishing with a red checkered cloth tied tightly over his face. He tucked the pistol in his belt, cinched his new boots tight, shouldered the guards' rifle, and stepped confidently from the woods.

Nobody gave him a second look, although he did receive a few waves and calls for a man named Kristiov. He strolled casually toward the hall where a woman's muffled screams came from. There were two black and yellow stripped flags flying over two armed guards standing in front of the wooden stairs leading to the north building.

One guard held up a hand to him, "yaka, yaka. Nishto dram, Kristiov. Norva slaavi?

Ramirez didn't hesitate, gesturing casually to the door; he thrust his head suggestively and simply grunted to the men.

The second guard shook his head and pointed back to where he had come from "inah, yaka. Nishto dram. Kavart."

Ramirez was approaching panic and just raised his palms to the men. A silent challenge of their authority. Nervous sweat rolled down his face and stung his eyes. After a few seconds of staring at the men, he shrugged, turned, and started walking in the direction he had been pointed. He had to find another way into the building. With his third nervous step he and the two guards were blown to the ground as the building exploded behind them. Now was his chance.