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Spectre covered their escape as Buck and company disappeared into the dark brush in the tree line. He waited until they were completely out of sight before he turned back toward the abandoned village. He had work to do.
As Spectre turned back toward the empty school building, he felt a rain droplet hit his head. Spectre wiped his forehead as a second and third droplet hit his arms. He could hear the rumble of thunder in the distance. Although it was not ideal, the rain would aid his concealment in the darkness.
Once he had sufficient cover, Spectre took a moment to take in his surroundings. He didn’t have the benefit of a map or pre-mission study of the island and its layout. He had no idea where to even begin to look for Decker. It was going to take a systematic building-by-building search to find her.
But Spectre was ready to do whatever it took to find and save her. She had become his life in the last six months. He would get her off the island or die trying. There were no other options.
Spectre saw floodlights at the building across from the school. It appeared to be a two-story barracks once used to house the unaccompanied bachelors of the former naval base. Spectre decided that was as good a place as any to start his search and set out for it.
Spectre stayed low, keeping his handgun up and ready as he moved to the nearest tree for concealment. He didn’t intend to go loud, but he also wanted to have his weapon ready in case he happened upon an unexpected threat. Spectre stopped at the first tree and crouched, keeping his scan going for threats. He could hear the sound of engines far off in the distance, but they were behind him. He assumed that it was coming from the flight line, from where they had been marched to their holding location.
Satisfied that there were no threats in the nearby area, Spectre took off toward the next tree. The rain started coming down harder, soaking his t-shirt and obscuring his vision. Spectre kept his weapon up as he scanned for threats. Once he reached the tree, he stopped and surveyed the entrance.
The entryway was clear. Spectre took a deep breath as he prepared to sprint for it. He had to move quickly to avoid getting caught in the “fatal funnel” in the doorway. He had a much higher chance of survival by avoiding the doorway where he had no chance of cover or concealment.
As he started to move, Spectre froze and dropped to his belly. A man with an AK-47 slung over his shoulder stepped out near the floodlight. Spectre watched as the man dug around in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette before lighting it up. The man looked out into the darkness toward Spectre, but the rain made it impossible for him to see the prone Spectre.
Weighing his options, Spectre considered his next move. He was less than thirty yards from the oblivious terrorist. From the prone position, Spectre estimated a well-placed headshot could easily neutralize the threat, but at the cost of alerting anyone nearby.
The guard ducked as another clap of thunder hit and lightning illuminated the night sky. The light rain turned into a heavy storm. As Spectre placed his sights on the guard’s head, he controlled his breathing as he waited for more thunder. Realizing that it was a low probability shot, Spectre slowly rose to a crouch.
He kept his weapon up as he attempted to flank the guard in the darkness. He moved quickly as he found an adjacent tree for cover. With every step he took, he looked back at the smoking guard. The man was still oblivious, having turned ninety degrees away from Spectre.
Spectre continued moving toward the far edge of the building, out of sight of the smoking terrorist. As he left his last point of cover, Spectre picked up his pace. Moving to within striking distance, Spectre tucked the handgun into his waistband. The guard continued staring out into the heavy downpour as Spectre pounced.
With his right leg, Spectre drove his foot down into the guard’s left knee and reached around his neck with his left arm. Spectre used his right hand to force the guard’s lower back down as he pulled back with the chokehold. Using his momentum, Spectre spun the guard around out of the light of the floodlights and into the cover of darkness as he used his right arm to complete the choke and continued pulling the guard backwards.
The guard attempted to struggle briefly, but Spectre tightened his grip until the guard lost consciousness from the lack of blood flow. Once his body fell limp, Spectre dragged the body to the corner of the building.
He removed the AK-47 from the man and slung the weapon across his own back before continuing to search the man. He found a pair of Flexcuffs and secured the man’s hands and feet together using the four sets on the man’s belt.
The man came to as Spectre finished securing his hands and feet. He attempted to yell, but Spectre stopped him with an open-palm strike to his nose, shattering the bridge of his nose and sending blood everywhere.
“How many are in this building?” Spectre asked as he squatted over the man.
The man said something in Chinese and then tried to yell out again before Spectre hit him again.
“Let’s see if you speak English,” Spectre said menacingly as he pulled out the switchblade knife and flicked it open.
The man said nothing and looked away. Spectre flipped the blade around with his right hand and covered the man’s mouth with his left before driving the blade into the man’s thigh. As the man tried to scream out, Spectre clamped down with his left hand, muffling the screams.
Spectre twisted the blade before pulling it out. He didn’t have time to get into a prolonged interrogation session. He needed answers or to move on.
After removing the blade, Spectre wiped the blood off the blade on the man’s black pants and waited for him to stop writhing. When the man calmed down, Spectre slowly removed his hand.
“Last chance,” Spectre warned. “You’re either going to learn English or die trying.”
“Four,” the man gasped.
“Four?” Spectre said, surprised that the man actually spoke English. “So, you do speak English after all. Where are they?”
Spectre held the blade in front of the man’s face. “Are the hostages in this building?”
“Yes. They will be executed soon,” the man said in broken English. “It is being filmed.”
“Where?” Spectre pushed, still holding the blade inches from the man’s face.
The man laughed. “You cannot save them,” he said with a maniacal laugh. “Anyone on this island will die.”
Spectre moved the blade to the man’s neck. “Where?” he growled.
“Room C-7,” the man said.
Spectre removed the man’s belt and used it as a makeshift gag around the man’s mouth. As he tightened it down, he heard a gunshot. Spectre turned back toward the door and took off in a sprint as he pulled a rifle from his back and shouldered it.
“Please God, let her be ok,” he said softly to himself as he flipped the select fire switch to select fire and headed for the door. “Please.”