Page 26 of The Perfect Stranger

Chapter Nine

“Throw it amongst them.”

Jase raised his brows in question. “You want me to throw a flashbang into a room of already fragile women and their gun-wielding captors?”

“Yes.”

Alejandro rubbed his head, seemingly also doubting my plan.

“The sudden noise and flash will send many, if not all, to the ground. The soldiers will be confused because it’s come from within the room they’re guarding. All their attention will be focused inward toward each other. The men outside playing Tejo is our greatest advantage right now.”

We all stopped and watched from our safe zone, while a group of six men played the game. It involved throwing the metal puck about twenty yards in the hope it hits its target causing the explosion.

“Alejandro, who is that man?” I didn’t need to point—one man stood out among the rest.

“Colonel Gregorio,” he practically spat out in distaste. The man in question held the authority amongst the others, and their level of fear toward him was obvious.

“That’s the man who assaulted your sister?”

He nodded gravely. Torn between grief and the need to exact revenge.

We watched as Gregorio threw the metal puck and seconds later was rewarded with the explosion. Like the narcissist he was, he cheered for himself while the others clapped out of obligation. Holding out his hand he accepted payment from a successful bet.

He polished off the rest of the rum and threw the empty bottle letting it shatter on the road. Returning to the men, he interrupted the next game only to incite another bet using the money he’d won only moments earlier. They abided, not that they had a choice.

“We all know what to do?” I asked again after having briefed them on the plan. They both nodded and a look passed between Jase and I. A look that said ‘return safe.’ The two disappeared from sight needing a head start. Explosives were to be placed along the line of housing used by the soldiers. Once they were set, Alejandro would hurl the flashbang into the school block at which time they would both advance in and herd the women out the back and up the mountain and finally setting the explosives off.

My job? Taking care of Colonel Gregorio. It was going to be chaos. But to men like us, we relied on the right kind of chaos to get the job done.

The game continued, the men unaware of what was about to go down. Positioning myself on the roof opposite the action, I aimed my rifle at the first soldier on the food chain. For a fraction of a second, a bright flash illuminated the school hall followed by the obnoxious loud bang. Frantic screams of confused and desperate women rang through the night air. I squeezed my trigger, three bullets for three soldiers. In the commotion they had fallen to their knees on the ground, guns pointed toward the school. But now, like a well-choreographed dance, they fell like dominos. Colonel Gregorio seemed torn between the chaos taking place at the school and his men who were dropping like flies.

Men who had been sleeping in the soldier’s quarters staggered to the doorway, half naked and bleary-eyed. There was no time for conversation. The whole line of houses blew up in a seamless sequence. The bright orange explosion rattled the earth and everything around it. Taking cover as much as possible, the heat from the inferno burned my exposed skin. La Balsa town had already seen so much destruction, so many left homeless, but there was little choice in the matter. We needed maximum rebel casualties in the shortest amount of time. Destroying the line of commandeered houses was the only way.

Debris rained around me, ash floated in the breeze like black snow. The noise went from one extreme to the next. From the small explosion of a Tejo game, flashbangs, screams from desperate women, the popping of guns, to mass explosions. And now, the tortured screams of those burning to death. It was a sound like no other. Unforgettable. From my position on the roof, I watched while those unfortunate enough to not have died in the blast, violently twist and turn to extinguish the flames. I could have ended their misery. But I chose not to. They didn’t deserve saving.

His level of intoxication wasn’t helping Colonel Gregorio's struggling senses. Frantically, he searched for the possible sniper. Like a coward, he ran, jumping over the bodies of his fallen comrades. He was mid-air when I fired. His thigh had taken the bullet moments before he crumpled to the ground clutching his blood-soaked wound. His cries blended with the popping of rifles coming from the school.

“Come on, come on,” I silently pleaded feeling the urgency. Hooking my rifle over my shoulder, I gripped the edge of the roof and lowered myself to the ground in time to see the women cautiously making their way through the backdoor of the school. They crossed the small game field and disappeared into the jungle.

Colonel Gregorio spotted me, his eyes narrowing. I wasn’t one of his—that much he could guess. Seeing my assault rifle and Glock, he scurried back, kicking up dirt as he went. With my gun staring him in the face I indicated for Gregorio to toss aside his own weapon. Instead, he maintained his false bravado. I continued my advance, his hatred at boiling point. It was the smallest movement, his finger ready to take the shot when I fired my own. The gun flew from his hand, desperation chipping away at his confidence. Pressing my Glock to his head, I gripped the scruff of his neck.

“Who the fuck are you?” he growled, and for a second I imagined that this was what Satan looked like.

In the opposite direction of the explosion came the voices of rebel men. Dragging Gregorio to the building and out of sight, he eyed the two dead soldiers, their blood now staining the earth.

“Colonel Gregorio?” I pushed his shoulder until he slumped against the wall.

“Who’s asking?”

“I’ll take that as yes. Wrists!” I demanded pulling duct tape from my vest. Gregorio’s eyes narrowed in spite. The toe of my boot connected sharply with his ribs when he refused. He jolted, coughed and spluttered. “My night still isn’t over, asshole. So do what I fucking say. Wrists!”

Reluctantly he complied, his breathing ragged. Wrapping the tape ten times, he hands swelled from stunted blood flow. After tying his ankles and plastering tape over his mouth, I cracked the butt of my rifle across his head to knock him out until I returned.

The popping of gunfire had upped a notch by the school while I repositioned on the roof. There I could pick my targets off one by one and at ease. The rebels had advanced. Splinters of wood and plumes of dust circled the school as soldiers peppered the walls with bullets. They assumed they were hitting their targets. Amidst their own firing, they hadn’t heard mine. Instead, perplexed, they watched as the person next to them fell. It was happening all too quickly for them to react.

“This is too easy.” I grimaced feeling like the opposition should have been greater. When the last man hit the ground, I lay still, waiting. All noise confirming human existence had ceased. The only noise was the burning of buildings, creaking and snapping under the heat. The whole place had turned into a sauna, my skin tingling from the wind carrying the heat.

Satisfied, I lowered my rifle, preparing to make a move. A sequence of dull thuds peppered the wall only inches down from my face.

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