Chris had no idea how he continued to move. His feet were on fire and the muscles in his legs kept cramping as he stumbled along the now dark trail. They'd been climbing steadily upwards for over an hour when the Colonel called a halt once more. "We are almost at my home, Lieutenant, where you will become a permanent guest. You will remain there as a prisoner with no hope of escaping. There are three more American swine there and they have each tried to escape. Two have been there since the war ended; the other is a recent acquisition. He is still rebellious but is beginning to understand who is in charge. He will be happy the guards now have someone else to torment," he laughed. "Your home is just down this hill. Follow me to your new residence."
His laughter drifted over Larabee like a blanket of ice, sending deep chills through his spine.
Chris could see the lights of the compound as they marched down the hill. The sounds of the night made him lonesome for his own ranch. Loud unknown birdcalls screeched all around him as the people encroaching on their domain disturbed them. A gate was opened and he staggered through, dropping to his knees in relief. Overhead lights illuminated the interior of the compound and he automatically counted the guards that flanked the high barbed wire topped walls.
"Not yet, Lieutenant," Nguyen grinned malevolently. "There is still the matter of Lieu's punishment."
Lieu stepped forward, once more rubbing his cheek as he helped Diem lift the prisoner.
Chris had no energy left to walk and soon found himself dragged across the compound to a narrow platform. Forcing his eyes open he saw what resembled something from the old hangman's game he played with Adam. One large square post stood in the center of the platform, another, smaller post bent at an angle kept the post in place. A third pole was attached to the top of the first one and ended in a large metal hook. Once more he was shoved to the ground, his aching body laid flat.
"Tie his ankles," Nguyen ordered.
Quang bent to the task and soon had Larabee's ankles tightly bound. At a signal from the colonel he removed the cords from the prisoner’s wrists.
Chris pulled his arms in front of him and tried to get the circulation going again.
Diem pulled the blond into a seated position and pulled his arms behind him, once more using cord to secure them.
Lieu stood on the platform and used the extra step to reach for the hook dangling there.
He pulled the hook forward until it reached the prisoner's ankles, attaching it to the cord wrapped around them.
Nguyen stood over his prisoner, once more smiling in anticipation of what was to come. "Lieu is a master with a riding crop," he whispered as Quang and Diem pulled the lean body into a hanging position.
Chris closed his eyes, trying to fight off the feelings of nausea as he hung upside down from the overhead post. His head hung two feet above the base by the time Nguyen called a halt.
"Untie his hands and remove his shirt," the Colonel ordered.
Diem stood behind Larabee and used a knife to cut through the tattered garment, and slice through the cords around the wrists.
Larabee's arms felt leaden as his fingers touched the boards. His eyes fell on the dark brown stains that marred the wood. He knew without asking the stains belonged to other prisoners of the sadistic Colonel. He closed his eyes as the final remnants of his shirt dropped to the floor, hiding some of the stains.
"Go ahead, Lieu!" Nguyen snapped.
Larabee braced himself for the blow, but was still unprepared for the sharp burning pain the flexible strip caused. With the first blow he felt the momentum turn his body, exposing his chest to the next strike.
He fought against the cries threatening to escape his mouth as blow after blow rained down on his back, arms, and chest. He felt blood well up and drip slowly down his torso, to land in a new pattern on the boards below him. Pain soon became the center of his very existence as Lieu showed his expertise with the riding crop. He knew he was losing the fight to remain quiet and let a soul shattering cry rip from his dry throat as he lost consciousness.
When he finally opened his eyes the lights were all but extinguished. His prison cell consisted of wire and steel posts dangling from a hook, the bottom was a slab of thick steel. Any movement caused the tiny cage to sway sickeningly. Pain radiated from every inch of his upper body as Chris struggled to sit up.
"You're better off to just stay still."
Chris stared at the man in the next cage and realized he was probably right. "T...thanks for the w...warning," he gasped.
"Ain't nothing to thank me for. I've been where you are only I don't think he hit me that hard or that often. You're not gonna be able to move around much."
"D...doesn't seem to be much r...room to move in here a...anyway." Larabee's dry throat gave his voice a raspy sound as he tried to get comfortable. "What's your name?"
"Billy. Billy Murphy. You?"
"Chris Larabee. How long have you been here?"
"Seven months. Tried to escape a few times but there's no place to go once you get outside the gates."
"There's gotta be a way," Larabee said softly, coughing dryly.
"I got a little bit of water left from the so called dinner they served, think you can reach through and get it?"
Chris lifted his head, gasping as the drying wounds reopened. He looked outside and saw the offered cup. Reaching through the small opening he grasped the offering and pulled it back inside. The small amount of water did little to slake his thirst but he was grateful to have it. "Thanks," he said as he passed back the empty cup.
"You're welcome," Billy told him. "You'd better try to sleep."
"Easier said than done right now," Larabee rasped, but closed his eyes anyway.
A sharp jab to his side brought him awake with a start. He gasped as his body automatically tried to move away from the offending stick.
"Colonel Nguyen wants to see you now!"
Larabee groaned as the door to his cage was opened and he was pulled outside. The sun had only just begun its daily journey but already the heat was stifling. The cage next to his was empty and he wondered where the other prisoner was.
"Di," a second man growled as Chris stood his ground. "Go! Go now!"
Captain Dunne's words sounded in his head as he struggled to find the strength to move. 'Do the deed, Son.' A tired smile spread on his bruised face as he stood to his full height. "Lead the way," he said snidely, falling into step behind the man who'd poked his ribs. He stumbled but kept his balance by sheer will alone.
Larabee was marched across the clearing and into a moderate sized building. The interior was a welcome relief, as it seemed the temperature dropped ten degrees. A hand on his ravaged back made him bite his lip as he was shoved through another door. He reached out to grab the desk in an effort to stay on his feet. A boot to the back of his knee dropped him to the floor and his eyes met those of his tormentor.
"Hello, Lieutenant."
"Nguyen." The blond gasped as he struggled to his feet, only to be struck to the back of the opposite knee.
"You will speak to Colonel Nguyen respectfully," the man with the stick ordered.
"Go to hell!" Larabee spat as he got to his feet a second time, his eyes never wavering from the Vietnamese Colonel.
"Enough!" Nguyen ordered as he glared at his prisoner. "Put him in that chair."
Chris felt hands grip his arm as he was forced into a chair and manacles were clasped over his wrists and around his ankles.
"What did Chieu tell you?" Nguyen asked.
"Larabee, Christopher, Lieutenant, Five..." an open-handed slap split his lip before he finished.
"What did Chieu tell you?"
"Larabee..." this time the hand was closed into a fist, rocking the blond head backwards.
"What did..."
"Lara..." another fist, this one to the left side of his taut stomach.
"What did Chieu tell you?"
"La..." again to the ribs and he fought to suck in air.
Nguyen's anger built steadily as his prisoner continued to answer with the same words. He reached behind him and took a black object from his desk. "What did Chieu tell you?"
"Larabee..."
Nguyen touched the object to Larabee's bare chest. The resulting shock was instantaneous as the blond’s body slammed back in the chair.
The power of the stun gun rocked Chris. He felt his wrists tear as his body tried to get out of the way of the powerful electric shock. In the close confines of the chair there was no escape and he screamed as Nguyen touched the tiny instrument to his chest again.
"What did Chieu tell you?"
"La..." again the stun gun touched up against him and this time his bladder let go. There was no shame in it, there was only so much a body could take and Chris knew it. He'd seen the effects of the tiny weapons more than once and he knew this was going to get worse before it got better.
"I will not ask again," Nguyen's angry voice ground out. "What did Chieu tell you?"
Larabee lifted his head, tears of anger, frustration, and pain in his eyes, "Larabee, Christopher. Lieutenant..." again his body was rocked by an electrical charge and this time the victim dropped over the edge and into the waiting abyss.
Nguyen grabbed the blond head and pulled it up, "You will tell me, Lieutenant!" he hissed as he let the man's head drop back to his chest. "Put him back in his cage!"
"Hey, Boss, I met a relative of yours."
"What are you talking about Hawkins?" Curran asked as he strode quickly towards the boat he called home.
"You know the one that looks like an older version of you?" Hawkins laughed.
"I told you I have no living relatives," Curran told him.
"Well then this guys’ a walking dead one because there's no way the two of you could look so much alike and not be related."
"Hawkins, will you please tell me what you're talking about?" Curran asked dropping his bag onto the table.
"I was at Dunne's office and this guy was walking in front of me."
"Brain grenade?" Curran asked as he opened the tiny fridge and tossed a cold one to Hawkins without waiting for a reply.
"Thanks, Boss. Anyway as I was saying I thought it was you. Even called him Boss. He didn't even turn around so I knew something was up. Thought you were still angry with me for that little thing with Claire."
"Hawkins!"
"Oh sorry. When I caught up with him and actually saw his face I knew I'd met your older brother."
"I don't have an older brother," Curran's exasperation was beginning to show.
"If you say so, Boss, but boy he looked so much like you. Except your hair is a little longer and he had a sense of humor."
"Hawkins!"
Dale Hawkins smiled at the blond SEAL. They'd been through a lot together, lost a lot of friends, because they knew when to stop. He knew Curran wasn't in the mood to listen to anymore about his older brother so Dale let it drop. "Want to go to the Trident?"
Curran was tired; the vacation he'd taken was really another exercise in futility. He'd broken things off with Claire and spent five of the seven days alone on a Florida beach. Oh, he had his share of invitations from beautiful women but he refused them, preferring to spend the time alone for now.
"Boss?"
"Yeah, sorry, Hawkins. The Trident sounds good. Just let me grab a quick shower."
"Sure, Boss," Hawkins said. He watched his friend walk tiredly up the stairs to his bedroom. 'I've got to find out for sure if you two are related,' he thought with a grin.
"You wanted to see us, Orrin?" Tanner asked.
"Yes, gentlemen, please sit down," Travis said.
"What's wrong Orrin?" Wilmington asked.
Travis stepped to his window and gazed at the activity below.
"Orrin," Sanchez said.
"I had a call from Chris's commanding officer." Six pairs of eyes opened wide but neither man would voice the question on his mind.
"Chris is missing."
"What?" Jackson snapped.
"How long?" Wilmington asked.
Travis stared at the quiet longhaired man. He knew Tanner was holding his emotions in check. He could see the tension in the shoulders. "The man Chris was supposed to meet contacted our embassy in Vietnam. He met with Chris in a bar they once frequented. Chris disappeared at that time."
"I'm going after him, Orrin," Tanner's voice was quiet but left no doubt that he meant what he said.
"Vin, you don't even know where to start," Travis pointed out.
"Vietnam, the bar, and Chris's friend," Tanner said softly.
"I'm going too," Wilmington told them.
"We should all go," Standish insisted.
"No one's going anywhere till the Navy calls with more details. I know you're all anxious to find Chris but we can't go in there half cocked. This is still a dangerous country with potentially lethal traps."
"I've been to Nam," Sanchez told them.
"I realize that, Josiah. That's why you'll be one of the ones going when we get clearance," Travis said.
"What do you mean one of the ones?" Dunne asked.
"So far we're looking at sending two people. This has to be kept under wraps until we find out exactly what Chris is involved in and what's happened to him."
"You said Chris's friend contacted the embassy. What else did he have to say?" Tanner asked, his mind already made up that he was going with Sanchez.
"I don't have all the details," Travis warned. "He told them Chris was taken by an old enemy."
"Dammit, I knew it. I knew this mission was a bad idea. What's the navy gonna do about it?" Wilmington asked.
"The Navy's hands are tied right now. They can't officially do anything without government approval. I've been in contact with Captain Dunne," all eyes turned to JD at the name.
"What? I don't know him," he said.
"Dunne is trying to get permission for two of you to go in on a recon mission. If you can find out where Chris is being held they'll send in a SEAL team."
"How long before we get final word?" Tanner asked.
"We should know in the next twenty-four hours."
"Who goes with Josiah?" Jackson voiced the question this time.
Travis looked around the room, knowing that there would be an argument no matter who he said was going. "Buck," he said.
"When do I leave?"
"Wait, Buck," Travis interrupted. "I know how much you want to go but I think Vin is the best choice to go with Josiah."
"What? Why?" Wilmington asked incredulously.
"I've heard all of you say that he's the best damn tracker you ever met. That's what we're going to need in Nam. When the time comes we'll need to find Chris fast."
"He's right, Brother," Sanchez agreed, placing a hand on the moustached man's shoulder.
Wilmington looked around the room, his eyes falling on the tracker, remembering the conversation at Larabee's ranch. "I know he is, Josiah, but it doesn't make it any easier. Find him, Vin," he ordered.
"We will," Tanner answered confidently.
Chris knew they'd be back. It was inevitable. For now he was content to leave his weary, pain racked body where it was. He leaned heavily against the side of the cage and watched the three long time prisoners being marched across the clearing. He watched as they were each passed a metal cup filled with water and a bowl of thin rice. He couldn't remember when he'd eaten last and the meager amount of water he was given did little to help him. His lips were cracked and dry and there was no moisture in his mouth. Even his tongue felt swollen.
Nguyen's men taunted him by placing a bucket of water just out of his reach. Once he'd managed to get his hands on the handle but Diem simply kicked the bucket over and stood there laughing at him.
"You, come out now!" a voice snarled and Chris would have laughed if he had the strength. The high-pitched voice came from a man no taller than five feet. "Out! Now!" the guard ordered again.
Larabee pulled away from the side of the cage and dragged his body out the door. His legs were stiff from long hours in the cramped cage. He'd lost count of how many days he'd been a captive. He knew it was over a week and thought it was less than two but that was as close as he could remember. Each day they came for him and Nguyen asked him the same question. He wondered how much longer he could look the Colonel in the eye, give him his best cocky grin and recite his name, rank, and serial number.
So far he'd been beaten, whipped, and subjected to a high voltage stun gun. That was the worst. Each time the stun gun was used he not only suffered physical torment but mental as well as he couldn't control his body’s involuntary reactions to the voltage. The stun gun had been used at least three times so far and each time he'd passed out. The burns on his chest were painful but he could live with it.
"Di!" he said indicating Larabee should walk across the compound.
"Lead the way," Larabee said with his customary grin. It was something he said every time they came for him and he could feel the respect some of the Vietnamese soldiers had for him.
Larabee followed the guard across the compound and into the colonel’s office.
"What did Chieu tell you?" Nguyen asked immediately.
"Larabee, Christopher..." the riding crop lashed out striking the blond across the cheek, leaving a thin stream of blood in its wake.
"Put him in the chair."
Larabee didn't wait for the smaller man to take his arm. Instead he turned and walked to it himself, sinking into the uncomfortable chair. The clamps were placed on his wrists and ankles as he glared at the Colonel.
"You are still insolent, Lieutenant," Nguyen laughed. "By the time I'm finished with you I will wipe that smug look off your face."
"You can try," Larabee's raspy voice came through low but firm.
"Oh I'll do more than try, Lieutenant," the Colonel laughed. "I'll break you before I let you die."
"Don't bet on it."
"What did Chieu tell you?"
"Lara..." the fist struck out again and Larabee waited for the inevitable. He had no idea how many times Nguyen asked the same question, but he knew he answered with the same thing. Over and over he repeated his name, rank, and serial number, ignoring the irate Colonel standing before him.
Chris felt the clamps being released and wondered what happened to cut the session short. He found his body supported between two men as his head sagged forward on his chest. By the time he reached his cage he was gasping for breath as the newly acquired injuries overshadowed the aches of the old.
Chris was shoved back into his cage and pulled himself up into a sitting position. His mouth was dry and his head throbbed. His right eye was swollen shut but he saw the metal cup filled with water and a bowl of thin cold rice sitting beside him. He lifted the cup with shaking hands and drank half of it before stopping. 'Don't want to be sick,' he thought as he placed the cup back on the floor of the cage. He picked up the bowl and using his fingers he ate the cold rice. His stomach grumbled as he shovelled the food into his mouth, swallowing it before he could even taste it. He finished the water, leaned back against the side of the cage, closed his eyes and let the wall of darkness fall.
"Josiah, Vin, I called you here to tell you we've been given permission to go into Vietnam and search for Chris."
"When do we leave, Orrin?" Tanner asked.
"Not so fast, Vin, this has to be kept discreet. The Vietnam government is willing to give us complete cooperation as long as we don’t break any laws."
"Break any laws? What do they call kidnapping an American?"
"Vin, Brother Chris didn’t just go to their country as a citizen. He went there with a mission. We have to remember that he was called back to active duty and that’s the reason behind his disappearance whether we have confirmation of it or not."
"Josiah’s right, Vin," Travis told him as he pulled out two copies of the same file, passing one to each man. "This is the information we have about Chieu, the bar and a colonel named Nguyen."
"Nguyen?" Sanchez asked.
"He considers himself a Vietnamese mercenary and therefore above his country’s laws. He’s gotten away with so much that his own government fears him," Travis explained as the two men read the files. "Once you enter Vietnam you’ll be on your own."
"I figured as much," Sanchez declared as he finished reading the file.
"I wish it didn’t have to be this way but Nguyen has a lot of power."
"Not for long," Tanner hissed.
Travis passed each man a plane ticket, his eyes roaming back and fourth between them. "Your flight leaves in six hours. Try not to garner attention from the police but find out where Chris is. Use our standard code in all communications and contact me personally when you find Chris."
"How do we get him out?" Tanner asked.
"Captain Dunne has his best SEAL team on standby. As soon as I hear from you I’ll contact him and he’ll get them rolling. They’ll be on a sub just off the coast and they’ll be ready to move at a moment’s notice."
Sanchez nodded his head as he stood up. "SEAL teams are well trained."
"They’re the best," Travis agreed. He held his hand out to his men, grasping each one firmly. "Good luck, Gentlemen. Bring Chris home."
"We will, Orrin," Tanner promised as they left the office.
Chris shivered as he struggled to sit up. His body ached in places he couldn’t remember having. He knew he’d lost weight and he wondered just how much more he could take. He had a constant thirst and hunger that could not be quenched by the small amount of water and rice he was given. Now when Nguyen’s men came for him he was dragged along, his legs refusing to hold him any longer. He smiled as he realized he was still being cocky as each time he never failed to tell them to lead the way.
Nguyen had come up with some strange ways to punish him, each time leaving a new mark on his body and mind. He looked at the index fingers of both hands where the colonel used tiny bamboo shoots, shoving them under his nails. He was lucky enough to be able to grasp the ends and pull them out before an infection set in, but the agony of the extraction was still vivid. The pain was a constant reminder that he was fighting for everything he believed in. He would not let the Colonel beat him; he would never surrender anything but his name, rank, and serial number. He opened his eyes as he felt something wet strike his forehead. He looked up at the greying skies just as the clouds let go and dropped their life saving moisture to the ground. He laughed as he opened his mouth and let the fat droplets land on his arid tongue. He swallowed the droplets, knowing the Colonel could order him removed from the cage at any time.
He almost cried with relief as he was left to drink his fill of the rainwater, his body absorbing as much as it could. He felt the rain washing the dirt from his body, showering his mind with a newfound cleanliness. Wiping away much of the despair he’d been feeling since becoming a prisoner in this hellhole. "I will not let you win, Nguyen!" he screamed as he struggled to his feet. The sound only carried a short distance as he realized his throat was not strong enough to give credence to his threat. He sat back against the side of the cage, letting the rain slide down his naked torso, soaking into the torn pants, stripping away the dryness of his burnt skin.
Chris sobbed in relief as he was left alone, hoping Nguyen and his men would leave him to soak up the healing drops of rain. He knew, without a doubt that once they realized he was taking advantage of the storm they would take even that little relief from him. He also realized the same life-giving moisture could be the death of him if he ended up catching pneumonia in his weakened state.
Exhaustion took over and he closed his eyes. His sleeping mind taking him back to the warmth and comfort of his home. He dreamed of barbeques with his friend, of drinking in their favourite bar, and just talking with the people that meant the most to him. He didn’t understand why they turned away from him when he spoke to them. A tear slipped from his closed eyes and became indistinguishable from the drops of rain that continued to slide off his cheeks. ‘I want to go home,’ he though as he moved his pain-filled body once more, groaning as he slipped to the base of the cage and curled into a foetal position.
Three weeks had passed since Chris Larabee disappeared. His worried friends wanted nothing more than to go to Vietnam and find him but they knew they’d have to wait until word came from Josiah and Vin. Buck stood outside the corral watching Larabee’s stallion as it paced back and forth in the grass. "You’re worried about him too. Aren’t you Pony?"
"Engaging in conversation with animals now, Mr. Wilmington," Standish asked as he held out a cup of coffee to the ladies man.
"Thanks, Ez," Buck smiled weakly as he took the proffered cup, sipping the strong liquid. "Where are JD and Nathan?"
"Mr. Jackson is endeavouring to make breakfast while Mr. Dunne is still languishing in bed."
"Kid still can’t handle his drink too well."
"He did looked a little, shall we say green around the gills last night."
"He’ll have one hell of a hangover when he does wake up."
"This was a great idea, Buck," Standish said gratefully.
Wilmington knew he was talking about his inviting them all to stay at Chris’s ranch so they could feel closer to their missing friend. He explained it would be easier for Orrin Travis to contact them if they were all in one place. They agreed readily and spent the first night toasting to the safe return of all three of their friends. They talked about past cases as well as new ones. They listened as Buck regaled them with tales of his and Chris’s friendship before and after he met and married Sarah Connelly. Each man feeling close to the other as they shared little details about themselves and their friendship with Chris Larabee. The talk stopped as one after another they retreated into their own thoughts of the missing man. "Thanks, Ez," he finally answered.
"I do believe Mr. Jackson is calling," Standish observed as the medic’s voice drifted to their ears. "They’ll find him, Buck," he added as an afterthought.
"Thanks, Ez, I know they will," the ladies man told him. ‘I just hope it’s not too late,’ he thought as he followed the southerner towards the ranch house.
Tanner and Sanchez had no problem coming through customs. Their luggage was searched and they were sent on their way. Both men carried a small carry on with just the essentials. They checked into a hotel just outside the airport and instantly went to work. They discovered Chieu’s whereabouts after a few calls and made arrangements to meet him in the same bar he’d met Chris in.
"This is it," Tanner stated as they stepped out of the taxi.
"My Man Bar, strange name for a bar," Sanchez observed as he paid the driver and thanked him in Vietnamese.
"Chieu said he’d meet us inside," the sharpshooter said as they stepped into the crowded bar. A haze of smoke and the smell of stale alcohol and beer permeated the air as they moved towards a back table. A lone man sat at the table and Tanner recognized him from Intel pictures the Navy supplied them with. "Tran Dinh Chieu?"
The man’s eyes were filled with terror as he glanced around the bar. He shuddered as memories of his last visit came to him. Blinking rapidly he signaled for the two men to sit down. "Who are you?" he asked softly.
"My name’s Josiah Sanchez and this is Vin Tanner. We’re looking for a mutual friend."
"What’s your friend’s name?"
"Chris Larabee," the sharpshooter answered, not surprised when the other man looked relieved.
"You will help him?"
"That’s why we’re here. Do you have any idea where he is?" Sanchez asked.
"I’m not sure where he is being held but I do know that he is being held prisoner by Colonel Nguyen. You must hurry if you want to find him alive."
"Can you tell us where Nguyen’s base is?" the younger man asked.
"It’s at the base of the northern mountains near Bacha many days travel from here. I wish to go with you!" he exclaimed suddenly. "I can arrange for us to get there quickly. I want to help my friend before it’s too late."
Sanchez and Tanner looked at each other, nodding imperceptibly. "Alright, you can come with us but you have to do everything we say without question," the sharpshooter told him.
"I will do anything to help Chris. He did not deserve to be captured. He’s blamed himself for my son’s death for too long. I must tell him he is not to blame. Nguyen and his men are."
"How long before you can arrange transport?" the ex-preacher asked.
"I will borrow my cousin’s jeep and we an leave at dawn. Meet me at the northern entrance to the underground tunnels," Chieu told them.
"I know the ones you’re talking about," Sanchez assured them. "We’ll be there."
"Here," Chieu said as he lifted a small suitcase onto the table.
"That’s Chris’s," Tanner said as he took the handle from Chieu.
"We left in such a hurry that night that he forgot it. I came back for it and hid it at my home."
Tanner held the case close, feeling the need to touch something that belonged to his best friend. "Thank you," he said softly as they got up to leave.
"Do not thank me," Chieu told him. "If it wasn’t for me Chris would not be in the trouble he’s in now."
"It’s not your fault, Tran. Chris did what he had to do," Sanchez assured the other man.
"Thank you," Tran’s eyes filled with unshed moisture as he hurried from the bar.
"You wanted to see me, Captain?" Curran asked as he opened the door and entered the older man’s office.
"Sit down, Lieutenant," Dunne commanded.
"Has the balloon gone up, Sir?"
Dunne’s eyebrows rose as he looked at the younger man. ‘So much like Larabee,’ he thought as he studied the handsome face seated across from him. "Yes, Son, it has. Sanchez and Tanner have been in contact with Orrin Travis. We have the coordinates for Nguyen’s base in Northern Vietnam. Get your men together, Lieutenant, you leave at dawn. Here’s the Intel report and pictures of the man you’re after."
Curran opened the file and gasped. He looked up to meet the eyes of his Captain. "Sir, is this for real?" he asked.
"Uncanny resemblance isn’t it, Lieutenant. Larabee was under my command when he first became a SEAL. I consider him second only to you in his abilities."
"I’ve heard we all have twins somewhere in the world but this is weird," Curran stated as he stared at the photograph of the man Hawkins must have met. "Guess I owe Hawkins an apology. I thought he was joking when he said this guy was an older version of me."
"He’s not that much older than you, Son," Dunne smiled at the younger man, knowing the affection he felt for him was like a father for his son. "He’s a good man, Lieutenant and he doesn’t deserve to be left out in the cold. Bring him home."
"We will, Captain," Curran stood to attention and snapped a salute to the older man.
"Dismissed, Lieutenant, and Godspeed."
The sun quickly absorbed the moisture from the land and from the clothing and skin of the man huddled in the tiny cage. His body trembled as he tried to focus his thoughts. He hadn’t seen anyone since the day before and he began to think he was alone in the world. He knew he was running a fever as he continued to shiver violently. The loud voice next to his ear made him jump, causing more pain to radiate through his abused body.
"You come now. Colonel Nguyen wants to see you."
Larabee recognized Quang as he struggled out of the cage. He tried to stand on his own two feet but his legs refused to hold him up. He felt two sets of hands grasp his arms and he forced the usual smile to his face as he croaked. "Lead the way!" His feet left a trail through the drying grey soil as he was dragged across the compound. He soon found himself strapped in the same chair he occupied every day for his questioning session with the Colonel.
"What did Chieu tell you, Lieutenant?"
"Larabee, Christopher, Lieutenant, five..."
"Enough. Damn you!" Nguyen swore as he grabbed a fistful of Larabee’s short-cropped hair. You will tell me what you know," he said as he released the hair and slapped his prisoner’s face.
"L...Larabee..."
"I know your name! I know your rank! I know your serial number! I will not listen to you repeat them again! You will tell me what I wish to know! Tell me! Tell me now!" the Colonel ordered accompany each statement with a vicious blow to Larabee’s already bruised body.
"Larabee..."
"Shut up! Shut up!" Nguyen shouted as he shoved a dirty rag into the blond’s mouth. "Get my chopper ready," he ordered Quang. "We will be leaving for Laos immediately."
Larabee tried to open his eyes but only the right one obeyed his commands, the left swollen to the point where the lids were sealed.
"What about him?" Quang asked.
"Leave him where he is till we are ready to leave. He will be accompanying us," Nguyen said as he bent in front of the injured man. He looked into the one glazed green eye. "You’re friends will be here sometime in the next two days but they will not find you, Lieutenant," he laughed as he pulled the rag from Larabee’s mouth.
"F...friends," the blond gasped before realizing he’d spoken aloud.
"I have sources in the government of my Country. They supply me with information in exchange for money and luxuries they otherwise could not afford. They informed me that two Americans arrived twenty-four hours ago and were seen leaving Ho Chi Minh City in the company of our mutual friend Chieu. Oh don’t look so hopeful, Lieutenant, they will not find you. We will be long gone from these mountains by the time they arrive."
Larabee felt his hopes dashed before they’d even begun. Somehow he knew one of the men would be Vin Tanner. Knowing Josiah Sanchez’s experience in Vietnam he would be a safe bet as to the identity of the second man. His mind reeled as he let his body sink into the chair.
"By the time your friends arrive they’ll find a surprise waiting for them. My men are setting explosive charges around the base of the compound and in all the buildings. They will die in the explosion and you will have to live with the guilt of their deaths. Oh, don’t worry Lieutenant; you won’t have to live with it for very long. As soon as I break you I will kill you with my bare hands," the Colonel promised as he replaced the gag in Larabee’s mouth.
A cloud of hatred took up residence in Larabee’s mind as he watched the Colonel gather his papers from the desk. ‘Somehow I’ll kill you, Nguyen,’ he thought as his head sagged to his chest.
Curran stood next to the chart table, once more going over the details of the mission with his men. They’d all been shocked by the picture accompanying the Intel report. Even Hawkins held back any smart aleck remarks.
"We go in by chopper before dawn. Sanchez and Tanner are supposed to meet us at the northern end of Nguyen’s compound. We’ll go in under cover of darkness. Hawkins, you and Leary will take the main building. Ramos, you’ll be with me. Intel says there’re less than ten soldiers in the compound so we’ll proceed under the assumption that there’ll be twice that amount."
"What about Tanner and Sanchez?" Ramos asked.
"We’re going to take advantage of their expertise. Both men have served their Country and they’ll do anything to help their friend. They’ve been ordered to cooperate with us on this mission. Tanner is an expert flyer and we may have use for him if anything happens to our own chopper pilot. Sanchez knows what the terrain is like in Nam and he’d be able to lead us out should anything go wrong."
"What about the missiles?" Hawkins asked as he studied the satellite photos.
"From what Intel and Travis’s men could find out it’s three miles across the border in Laos. We’ll rescue Larabee, get his men to safety and then proceed to the compound in Laos."
"Sounds like you have everything figured out, Boss," Hawkins said.
"I hope so, Hawkins. Gentlemen, get some rest. We’ll be leaving to rendezvous with the Enterprise in a few hours."
"Couldn’t we just have Scotty beam us there?" Hawkins quipped.
"Shut up, Hawkins," Curran snapped but couldn’t stop the grin spreading over his face.
Larabee stumbled from the chopper, his legs once more numb from squatting on the floor. He groaned through the gag Nguyen refused to remove. He looked around the new compound, terror in his eyes as he spotted what could only be missiles being lifted from a truck and brought into one of the buildings. He felt rough hands reach for him and he was forced to kneel on the ground in front of an irate Colonel.
"Are you going to tell me what Chieu told you?" Nguyen asked, bending so his face almost touched Larabee’s. "What did Chieu tell you?" He repeated as he pulled the rag from his prisoner’s mouth.
Chris drew in huge breaths of air as he kept his right eye trained on the man before him. "Larabee, Christopher..."
"That’s not the answer I want to hear, Lieutenant," Nguyen shouted as he struck the blond across the face, driving him into the ground. "Talk! Talk now or I will kill you!" he screamed as he pulled the injured man back to his knees, placing a gun against his temple. "Talk! Talk now!" he repeated.
"Larabee, Chris..." the blond went quiet as he heard the hammer pulled back on the pistol. ‘I love you, Sarah,’ he thought as he waited for the inevitable. He heard the hammer hit the firing pin and cried out as he heard the demonic laughter from the Colonel.
"Surely you didn’t think it would be that easy, Lieutenant?"
Larabee let his head drop to his chest as he tried to understand what happened. He couldn’t believe he was still alive, that this was just another form of Nguyen’s sadistic tortures. His chest heaved as he tried to draw in enough air. His broken ribs protesting this move loudly.
"Come see your new cage," Nguyen ordered as Diem and Lieu reached down and pulled Larabee to his feet.
Chris tried to keep track of where he was being taken but his mind wandered over the last few minutes. He’d come so close to escaping Nguyen’s torment but nothing was ever that simple in his life. They pulled him into a tiny building with no windows and only one door. There would be no way for light to pass into the tiny dwelling and Larabee knew he’d just been thrown into an even darker hell.
"Here you are, Lieutenant," the Colonel laughed as Larabee’s eyes opened wide. "Put him inside."
Chris stared at the tall narrow cage. It was smaller than the other one and he would be forced to stand the whole time. His legs already ached and he could barely hold his own weight as he was propelled towards his new home. He felt like a bird in a gilded cage, put on display for all to see, as the door slammed shut behind him. With barely enough room to turn he knew he’d be standing for the duration of his stay. He felt someone reach through and cut the ropes from his wrists. His arms dropped to his sides and he struggled to lift them up.
"Put your hands above your head, Lieutenant." Nguyen ordered.
Chris glared at the man, as he lifted his arms. He stopped them in front of his body and rubbed his almost lifeless fingers in defiance.
"Now, Lieutenant!" Nguyen’s dark eyes grew even darker as he glared at the blond prisoner.
Larabee continued to ignore the Colonel, gasping as something pressed against his back. Even through the torn prisoner’s uniform he felt the jolt from the stun gun. He screamed as he tried to move away in the tiny confines.
"I can do this all day, Lieutenant, but I don’t think you can."
"Caca Dau," Larabee swore as he tried in vain to ignore the punishment his body was receiving.
"You cannot kill me, Lieutenant," Nguyen laughed as he signaled his man to move away from the cage.
Chris sagged in relief as the stun gun was removed, sliding as far down in the cage as possible. Soft sobs wracked his body as he was lifted to a standing position and his arms drawn above his head. He felt the steel cuffs wrap around his already damaged wrists and knew all was lost to him. He knew he would not be leaving Vietnam alive.
"The perfect prize for my cage. Soon you will sing like a canary and tell me everything I want to know."
Larabee had little doubt this would happen. The pain that took up permanent residence in his body reminded him that he was only human and human beings could only take so much. He lifted his eyes to meet Nguyen’s, barley able to see out of the still swollen left one he rasped, "Larabee, Christopher, Lieutenant, Five Seven..."
"Oh don’t bother with your name, rank, and serial number right now, Lieutenant. Save it for my guests who’ll be arriving before long. I’m going to demonstrate my ballistic missiles for him," he laughed at the look of horror on his prisoner’s face.
"You Bastard," Larabee gasped as they left him alone, turning the lights out and leaving him in complete darkness.
Tanner, Sanchez, and Chieu watched the compound since their arrival an hour earlier. All three men angered by the fact that they were under orders not to attempt anything until the SEAL team arrived. They listened and watched for any sign of their missing team member. They worried when there seemed to be no actual life in the compound except for three men trapped in cages outside one of the buildings.
The two Firm employees lifted their heads as they heard a slight noise to their left, nothing loud, but to the experienced men they knew the SEAL team was close by. They watched the heavily wooded area to their left as two men came into sight, dressed in combat fatigues and carrying weapons.
"Sanchez? Tanner?" Hawkins asked softly, nodding towards the third man.
"Tran Dinh Chieu," Sanchez said by way of introduction.
"I’m Hawkins, he’s Leary. Now listen up. We’ve got two men coming in from the northern end. I want you three to stay back at least till we have things under control."
"We can take care of ourselves!" Tanner stated.
"Yeah, I don’t doubt that for a minute," Hawkins said with a grin. "I’ve seen your file." His head snapped up as he heard a shrill bird call. The sound natural in the mountains, but Hawkins recognized it immediately. "That’s our signal. We move in but we do it quietly. Make sure you guys stay behind us. Don’t do anything that’ll get your friend or those other men killed."
Sanchez nodded as they fell into step behind Hawkins. Dawn was beginning to lighten the sky and visibility had increased enough for them to make out a path leading towards the compound.
"Something’s wrong," Tanner whispered to Sanchez as there was still no movement from within the fenced area.
"You’re telling me," Sanchez whispered back.
Hawkins watched as two figures approached the compound from the north. He signaled to them that he’d found their contacts. Slowly they advanced on the entrance, Hawkins came to a complete stop before the gate. He put up his hand to stop the others, his trained eyes circling the base and perimeter of the compound. He turned towards the four men with him. "Leary, warn Curran and Ramos that the whole base of the compound is wired with explosives. Tell them to cut their way through. Make sure they don’t touch the black or green wire running along the base," he whispered.
"Be right back," Leary told him as he moved towards Curran’s hiding place.
The medic was back in less than a minute. "He already knew," he grinned.
"Figures," Hawkins remarked. "Ok, Boys, here’s what we’re going to do," Hawkins explained the outline of their plan as Leary used wire cutters to enter the compound.
"Something’s wrong here, Hawkins. We’ve been watching this place for over an hour and there’s been no movement."
"Intel seems to have made another mistake. We’re supposed to have hostiles here but there doesn’t seem to be anyone around," Hawkins explained as Leary finished cutting through the wire. "We’re going to proceed inside and check the perimeter before rescuing those men."
"I don’t see Chris anywhere," Sanchez’s worry was evident in his tone.
"He may be inside one of those huts," Leary explained.
"If he’s here at all," Tanner shuddered at the thought of his missing friend.
"We’ll worry about that when the time comes. Right now let’s move out. You three do know how to work those guns, right?"
Tanner, Sanchez, and Chieu nodded at the same time, the sharpshooter’s smirk showing the confidence he had in his abilities.
"Alright, let’s get this done shall we?" Hawkins said, a matching smirk on his face as they moved quietly into the compound.
A quick but efficient search of the area revealed the main building and the huts were abandoned, but set with deadly explosives.
Three sets of eyes followed the newcomers as they made their way around the compound. Ramos and Leary were the first to approach the tiny cages.
"SEAL team, we’re here to get you out," Ramos explained and wasn’t surprised when the three men broke into soft, relieved sobs. Their thin, frail bodies were covered in bruises and scars and the SEALs knew from experience that it would be a long time before they healed.
"He’s rigged the cages as well."
Leary looked at the young man who’d spoken. "What’s your name?" he asked sympathetically.
"Billy Murphy."
"Well, Billy, you just relax and we’ll have you out of there in no time, alright?" Murphy’s only answer was a quick nod of his head.
Tanner and Sanchez were happy the three prisoners were going home but worried when there was still no sign of Chris Larabee. Both men looked up as a voice called out to them. Two startled pairs of eyes fell on the familiar yet different face before them, "Chris?" they asked in unison.
Curran couldn’t help feeling sorry for not warning these men. "No, my name’s James Curran and before you ask I’m not related to Chris Larabee."
"Damn, you’re so much like him," Sanchez observed.
"That’s putting it mildly," Tanner drawled.
"Look, there’ll be time enough for this later. I want you three to keep an eye on things while we get those men out. I just contacted the Enterprise and the chopper should be here to lift us out in fifteen minutes."
"I’m not leaving without Chris," Tanner stated, still unable to pull his eyes off the blond standing before him.
"I didn’t say we’d be leaving without him but our first priority has to be those men," Curran told them. "We need to find out if Intel has discovered the whereabouts of Nguyen’s second compound. If they have we’ll need more information on the parameters of the new mission."
"How long’s that gonna take," Tanner asked unable to hide the frustration he felt.
"A day or two at the most."
"Chris could be dead by then!" the sharpshooter exclaimed.
"You should face the fact that he could already be dead," Curran said softly.
"He’s not dead."
Four sets of eyes turned towards the man who’d spoken from inside his cage. "What did you say?" Tanner asked hopefully.
"Chris was alive when Nguyen took him out of here yesterday."
"Was he alright?" Sanchez asked.
Murphy shook his head slowly, his eyes on the blond standing amidst the group of men. The similarities between this man and the man he’d known for only a short time were disquieting. His weary eyes shifted from one man to the next as he explained. "He was hurt pretty bad. Nguyen had him whipped the first day he arrived but Chris stayed strong and never told him anything. Nguyen’s men took pleasure in taunting him and beating him. He was taken to see the Colonel everyday and when he returned you could tell he was beaten. I know they used a stun gun on him a few times. They fed him very little and most of the time they gave him barely enough water to live on."
"Do you have any idea where Nguyen took him?" Curran asked.
Murphy shook his head, but one of the older men in the cage next to him opened his eyes and stared straight at Curran. "Probably took him to the compound across the border. I spent some time there myself before Nguyen found a new toy to play with." the weak voice told them.
"Do you have any idea how long it took you to get to the second compound?" Sanchez asked.
The beaten man closed his eyes and tried to retrieve the illusive memories. "By chopper it was less than an hour. I’m pretty sure it was slightly north of here."
"Got it," Leary said as he pulled the detonator from the explosive device on the first of the cages. He pulled the door open and helped Billy step outside. The man sobbed his thanks as Ramos helped him sit down on the ground.
"Chopper’s here," Hawkins stated as they all heard the distinct sound of the approaching transport.
"This one’s clear," Leary told them.
"So’s this one," Ramos smiled as he helped the third man step outside.
"Let’s get you guys out of here," Curran sighed sadly at the almost emaciated bodies of the two older men, Murphy didn’t seem as bad off as these two, but he was still in need of medical attention.
"O...out of h...here."
Curran stared at the man who’d remained silent until now. "That’s right," he said as he lifted one of the man’s thin arms and draped it over his shoulder. "We’re taking you home."
"H...home...Oh G...God, I t...thought I’d n...never see home again," the man sobbed as his body relaxed against the firm grip of the SEAL leader.
Tanner helped Billy Murphy to his feet and followed Curran from the compound. The shock of not finding his friend hadn’t really registered yet but he knew it would. ‘I’m coming, Cowboy, you just make sure you’re alive when I find you,’ he thought as he turned his eyes to the north.
‘I’m coming, Cowboy, you just make sure you’re alive when I find you.’ The words echoed in his mind and his right eye snapped open. "Vin," he whispered hopefully, his eyes filling with dread as he realized it was a dream. He could have sworn he’d heard Vin Tanner’s voice but there was nothing around him but darkness. Complete, absolute, darkness and he shivered as he realized he might never see daylight again.
His body had gone beyond pain. Now he just felt numb. A deep-seated numbness that flowed from his weighted arms to his toes. He had no idea how much time passed since he was placed in the cage. He knew he passed out a couple of times but didn’t think it’d been for long. Each time he passed out his body would go slack and he felt as if his arms would not hold him much longer.
He tried to moisten his lips but his mouth seemed unable to produce any saliva. His own labored breathing continued to be the only sound in the darkness. A painful sound that reminded him of his broken ribs. Each time he forgot and tried to breath deeply he cried out, wondering if he had damage to not only his ribs but his lungs as well.
He gasped and stood on shaky legs, realizing once more that he’d passed out by the shooting agony in his arms and shoulders. When next he opened his one working eye he was not alone. His eye raked over the man who accompanied Nguyen into the room.
"This is the American you told me about on your last visit?" the silver haired man asked as he studied the battered man standing in the cage.
Larabee glared at the Colonel, not bothering with the newcomer. His eye tracking Nguyen wherever he moved in the room.
"Yes, it is. He is proving to be even more stubborn than I remembered."
"Perhaps I could be of some assistance."
Nguyen looked from his prisoner to the man dressed in civilian clothes standing beside him. "What would you do?" he asked.
"It looks as if your methods of punishment are primitive to say the least. How many beatings have you given him?"
"Not enough," Nguyen said, a feral grin on his face. "He still refuses to talk."
The newcomer strode towards the cage, reaching inside and tenderly caressing Larabee’s chest through the open rags he wore. "You’ll talk for me won’t you?" he whispered.
"Larabee, Christopher..."
Nguyen shoved his riding crop into the cage, savagely driving the solid end into his prisoner’s ribcage.
Larabee gasped as he felt the sharp pain as another of his weakened ribs broke under the onslaught.
"I told you to talk!" Nguyen snapped, angry that his customer saw his lack of control.
"L...La..r..." tears sprung to his eyes but he refused to give into them.
"He is stubborn," the newcomer replied as he touched the new bruise forming over the fading ones. "Larabee, my name is Thorpe. I’ve seen many a strong man lose all will to fight when faced with certain things. The kind Colonel has shown me your file and I think I know what will make you talk," Thorpe said as he pressed his fingers against the broken bone, causing the blond to gasp.
Larabee shook his head as he waited for the next round. Ignoring the newcomer and once more facing his hated nemesis. "Larabee, C...Ch..." the rag was once more shoved into his mouth, instantly cutting off the repeated reply.
Nguyen smiled at his prisoner, his eyes never wavering as he asked, "What do you have in mind, my friend?"
"Fire."
Larabee’s one eye could not contain the terror that one word instilled in him. He sagged against his bonds as he tried not to let it show.
"What’s wrong, Lieutenant? Does Thorpe have the right idea? Are you afraid of fire? Is that the one thing that can break you of your insolence?"
Chris closed his eyes, knowing these men would do whatever they pleased with him. He fought the fear he felt; knowing to give in would be to lose everything he believed in. His family had perished in a fire and it was the one thing the blond feared above all else.
"I see it in his eyes, Colonel!"
"See what, Thorpe?"
"The fear, the anger, the regret, they are all extreme emotions and he will not be able to fight them all. Will you, my friend?" Thorpe asked as he drove his fist into Larabee’s ribs.
‘Don’t be sick! You’ll die if you get sick with this cloth in your mouth. You don’t want Vin to find you that way. Vin? Why am I thinking of Vin?’ he thought as the tears he’d held in check streamed from his eyes.
"Tell me what you need," Nguyen ordered as they left Larabee alone in the darkness.
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