Page 11 of Salute, To Bravery
Miles interrupts my thoughts, oblivious to my inner conflict.
“We’ve got a convoy leaving at oh eight hundred, transporting high-value assets to the secure facility up north. They’ll be taking the western route out of the camp. Heavily guarded, as you’d expect. They want to get them out of the way before the battle starts. Give the other side no reason to try infiltrate the camp.”
“Yes, I was briefed,” I murmur, my gaze tracing the route on the map. The western route passes through a less populated area, which may give me the window I need.
“Will you be overseeing the transfer, Captain?” Miles asks, pulling up some documents on his tablet.
“No, I have other… assignments,” I respond, prevaricating. “But keep me updated on the convoy’s progress.”
“Will do,” he nods, turning his attention back to his screen.
I linger for a moment longer, memorizing the details on the map before making my way outside.
I head toward the motor pool where the vehicles are being prepped for the day’s operations. Sergent Cole, one of the mechanics, is already at work.
“I need a vehicle for a reconnaissance mission. Something unobtrusive,” I instruct, trying to sound casual.
He glances up, wiping his hands on a rag. “Sure thing, Captain. I’ve got just the thing.” He gestures to a dusty jeep parked in the corner. “This one’s not part of the usual rotation, but it’s reliable.”
“Perfect,” I nod and quickly check over the jeep. It needs to run smoothly. My plan depends on it.
The next two hours pass by in a blur of preparation and restless anticipation. I secure a few critical supplies from the storage—extra fuel, a medical kit, some non-perishable food—and all the while, I have to keep reassuring myself this order has come from above.
Secure the asset.
He has a prearranged place of safety.
No kills to our side.
POTUS.
As the time for the prisoner transfer draws near, I drive the jeep to a secluded part of the camp, out of view but within sight of the convoy route. My heart pounds against my ribs, each beat a loud echo in my ears. I intend to follow the convoy and free Rehan when the opportunity arises. I haven’t been able to share my plans with Rehan. I hope he doesn’t think I’ve abandoned him.
“This is it, Harper,” I whisper to myself as I watch the convoy vehicles line up. “Time to do what you were born for.”
Chapter Eleven.
Rehan
The thunder of artillery fire sounds intermittently in the distance as I’m led out to a convoy of vehicles. The staccato rhythm of marching soldiers and the clanking of war machinery fill the air, intensifying the sense of urgency pulsing through the camp. The guards are tense, their fingers resting near the triggers of their weapons and their eyes darting around alertly.
I look for Harper, but there’s no sign of her. My heart deflates, but I understand. I don’t think I could stay strong if I saw her again. We’ve said our goodbyes. The memory of her lips on mine when we kissed will get me through whatever happens next.
I’m placed in a heavily armored vehicle in the middle of the convoy. The interior is cramped and smells of oil and metal, and the hard benches are unforgiving against my back that’s sore from sleeping on the cot.
Through the small, barred window of the transport, I watch the camp disappear from view behind us, replaced by the muted greens and browns of the countryside. The convoy moves swiftly, the engines growling like caged beasts eager for release.I try to steady my breathing to quell the rising tide of anxiety as I think about what is to come.
Suddenly, a sharp, ear-piercing explosion tears through the air. The convoy halts abruptly as soldiers start shouting commands. I peer through the window, trying to discern the source of the commotion. Smoke billows in the distance, and I can just about make out the forms of soldiers scrambling into defensive positions.
“This is it. This is where all my hopes end,” I mutter under my breath, preparing myself for my fate.
Another explosion rocks the ground near us, closer this time, and an increased sense of urgency sets in among the troops.
The rear door of the transport is flung open, and a guard shouts, “Out! Move! Move!”
I’m herded out into the open with the other prisoners, and amid the confusion, we’re ordered to crouch low as we’re taken to what our captors believe is safer ground. It’s then I notice the approaching infantry, all guns blazing, and several armored vehicles. The government soldiers are here to rescue my fellow prisoners and capture or kill me.
I scan the area, and suddenly, I see her, Harper. She’s in uniform, her face smeared with dirt and grime, obscuring her identity, but I would recognize her anywhere. She catches my eye and nods subtly as she approaches me.
