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Spectre limped slowly out of the tree line as Graves followed with the barrel of the AK-47 pushed against his back. His leg still hurt and the bandage impeded his movements slightly, but Spectre exaggerated his movements. It was part of his plan to hopefully buy Decker more time.
He had convinced her that his plan would get him out alive, but Spectre knew that it was a long shot. He was a diversion for her to have a better chance of success and to Spectre, her success meant she could live longer. That was all Spectre cared about. Without her, it didn’t matter much anyway.
Graves quietly pushed Spectre forward toward the edge of the large building. There was a guard pacing back and forth near a spotlight set up on the corner. He hadn’t yet noticed them.
As they moved closer, Spectre held his hands up and out. The guard finally noticed them as they came close and shouted at them in Chinese as he pointed his rifle at them. Spectre stopped as the guard approached them while holding his rifle up.
The guard said something on his radio and seconds later, more men appeared from the building. Spectre watched as nearly a half dozen men showed up with their rifles trained on him. They shouted in Chinese as Graves held his rifle against Spectre’s back with his right hand and held his left hand up in a non-threatening posture.
“I have brought the American pilot to you!” Graves yelled as the hostiles formed a crescent formation around the two men. “I am a friendly!”
The apparent leader shouted more in Chinese. Graves shook his head and said, “No, English. I speak English only.”
Spectre watched as the men shouted commands at Graves. He was surprised that they had sent so many men to deal with them. He guessed that they had been told to look out for them. He hoped that it was enough to draw the men off Decker.
“English!” Graves yelled again.
“Drop your weapon!” one of the men said as he stepped forward. He appeared to be slightly older than the others. Spectre guessed he was their equivalent of a Senior Non-Commissioned Officer in rank.
“I brought the American like you asked,” Graves said, still holding the rifle. “Tell your boss I have him.”
“Drop your weapon! Now!” the man shouted in broken English.
Graves lowered the weapon to the ground and raised both hands up as he stood. “I did what you told me to do! I am friendly!”
“Get on your knees! Hands on head!” the man shouted. Spectre and Graves slowly dropped to their knees as they put their hands over their heads. Although more bad guys on him meant less for Decker to deal with, he had not anticipated so many men. It made his plan even more complicated.
With both men on their knees, the senior hostile shouted more orders in Chinese. Two men broke from the formation and rushed to Spectre and Graves, forcefully grabbing them as they Flexcuffed their hands in front of them. After their hands were secured, the men pulled Spectre and Graves to their feet and patted them down for weapons.
Spectre smiled as his designated guard pulled the handgun out of his waistband. “I swear it’s not mine,” he said as the man handed it to the guy in charge. “These aren’t even my pants!”
“I brought the American fighter pilot to you!” Graves pleaded. “Just like you asked! We had a deal!”
“Silence,” the man responded. He picked up his radio. Although it was in Chinese, Spectre guessed from the context and facial expressions that he was radioing it in to the guy in charge for further instructions.
His suspicions were confirmed when the man shouted orders in Chinese to the others and they walked Spectre and Graves toward the hangar. As they walked, Spectre pulled against the man guiding him, limping as he groaned with each step.
Spectre was easily four inches taller and outweighed the man holding his arm by thirty pounds. He exaggerated his limp further as he attempted to lean on the man that was pushing him forward. Spectre waited until they were near the corner of the building and then started stumbling into the guard holding him.
“My leg!” Spectre yelled out as they walked a few more steps. The man guiding him tried to support his weight but couldn’t. Spectre stumbled forward and fell to the ground as the man with him struggled to avoid Spectre’s falling mass. “I can’t walk!” Spectre yelled as he hit the ground and rolled.
The lead man yelled at the others in Chinese as they all turned to see Spectre writhing in pain on the ground. “Y’all shot me!” Spectre cried out. “It still hurts!”
Spectre rolled to his back as the man holding him stood awkwardly over him, not sure what to do. The man in charge yelled orders, prompting the man nearest Spectre to move closer to help him up.
“Help me!” Spectre yelled as the man reached down to grab him. As he did, Graves pushed the man holding him into the nearby wall and took off running along the side of the building.
With their attention divided between him and the fleeing Graves, Spectre swept the man’s leg and pulled him down, causing him to fall on top of Spectre. Spectre grabbed the AK-47 attached to the single-point sling across the guard’s chest and fired, hitting the guard that was preparing to fire at Graves in his escape.
With the nearest threat down, Spectre wrapped his legs around the guard to hold him down as he adjusted and fired at the man standing next to the senior guard. The senior guard managed to fire a volley of rounds, striking Spectre’s human shield before Spectre returned fire, killing the senior man.
Rounds ricocheted off the asphalt next to Spectre as he rolled the body off him and rotated the AK-47 around to kill the final guard. With a short burst, Spectre dropped the final guard and rolled onto his knees.
His chest was heaving and his heart was racing. Spectre looked out into the darkness for Graves, but he was long gone. For his part, he had done well to redeem himself. Their plan was sketchy at best, but Graves was willing to try. Spectre admired him for that, despite his previous lapse in judgment.
Spectre heard a vehicle approaching and searched the nearest body for a knife. He found one and cut the Flexcuffs. He grabbed two spare magazines off the bodies and readied the AK-47 as he saw the lights approaching.
With a split-second decision to make, Spectre opted to avoid the threat. He was still amped from the fight just seconds ago. Although his leg still hurt, he ran as fast as he could down the side of the building in the direction that Graves had disappeared.
He heard doors slam as the diesel engine shut off. There were voices and then yelling. Spectre looked back as he rounded the corner of the building and took cover. He could barely make out three figures in the low lighting standing over the bodies. Spectre considered a shot, but decided that giving away his position wasn’t worth the low probability shot he had available to him and remained hidden. He heard a gunshot, but the round didn’t seem to be aimed in his direction. He stayed behind cover as he plotted his next move.
As he stood with his back to the large building, Spectre saw four people emerge from the warehouse. He watched as they ran toward the tree line. His heart skipped a beat as he thought it might be Decker. He waited until they were safely in the cover of darkness and then sprinted to the nearby tree line to meet them.
Thank God she made it, he thought as he ran toward the thick vegetation.