G.I. BABY (25 page)

HE HAD ONLY ONE PRAYER.
He hoped his son will not see any video in the future. He hoped Andi will protect him from the horror of witnessing his father’s death in full color.

He’d choose death than to betray his country to these heathens. He just wasn’t sure if he could keep his sanity once they went full-on with the torture. He’d heard stories of POWs screaming like women, naming all their superiors and comrades and spilling all their codes and secrets as they bathed in their own, piss, shit and blood.

They gave him a nasty beating when he refused to be captured. But the leader of the band of ISIL soldiers who found him in the middle of the desert halted the hazing party. The leader spoke in a dignified Arabic and his men listened.
 

Several of his bones had probably cracked, but not broken, at least. However, his face felt like a bloody pulp.
 

They hogtied and blind-folded him, throwing him inside a truck. They travelled for seemed like hours. He didn’t know where they were. Most probably near the border of Syria and Iraq. He was flying in that vicinity when he made the nose-dive.

When they reached their destination, they threw him in what felt like a deep hole on the ground and locked him there like an animal.

Two days had passed. He didn’t want to lose track of time. It was essential to his survival.
 

His hands were still bound. He’d managed to remove the cloth they’d tied around his head. He was in a dug-out some six-feet deep. For a moment he’d wondered if it was already his grave.
 

They didn’t give him food or water. He could tolerate the heat of the blistering sun but the biting cold of the night drove him to the brink of insanity. He would die of hypothermia if it lasted another day, he was sure.

——*****——

“The fragile relationship between the US, Iran and China
might be severely tested following report of a US Air Force fighter plane going down the Syrian/Iraqi border. The US Air Force was forced to release an official statement after a video surfaced an hour ago. The video is purported to have been released by the ISIL and it allegedly contains footages of US Air Force combat pilot Major Craig Walker being taken hostage by the Islamic State army after his plane crashed in the middle of an air-strike mission four days ago. The US Air Force claims that Walker engaged a HGV or Hypersonic Glide Missile bearing close resemblance to the Chinese manufactured WU-14. The missile was allegedly launched from the Iraqi/Iranian border, near Mosul, an ISIL stronghold in Iraq. It is no secret that the Chinese have been developing missiles that could outfly US fighter jets and penetrate US radars. The question is, how did the missile get into the hands of the ISIL? Speculations are rife that some powerful Chinese elements are running a black market of nuclear weapons. The plight of Major Walker remains uncertain as of this time. Meanwhile, the air strikes continue over Syria…”

Andi dropped the TV remote control as the CNN anchor’s voice got muddled by the rush of terror flooding her entire being.

Video? What video? Oh God, no. No, no, no! Please!
her mind screamed but she could utter no words.

Her worst fear had happened.

Her heart was a pounding mass of denial, fury and grief as her mind conjured images of Craig suffering in the hands of the ISIL.

She collapsed on her knees on the floor, shaking from inside out.

——*****——

On the third day, they pulled him out
and dragged him to a tent. They freed his hands. He winced as blood rushed freely in his wrists again.
 

He was already rank with his own piss. They wouldn’t even give him the dignity of pulling his dick out so he can urinate properly. His lips had cracked and his throat felt like sand paper. He could barely stand on his own two feet but he did, even if he was already losing his mind from thirst and hunger.
 

He met another man. Another leader. A higher one, his instinct told him. He was garbed in black from his head down to his feet like the other Muj but it was his carriage that set him apart from the rest. The man moved slowly, his eyes devoid of emotion as he surveyed his miserable condition. Intelligent eyes that could command by a mere look.

“This is not the way to treat a valuable guest.”

Thank fuck, an English-speaking Muj. Thick with accent but good, proper English that could have only been learned in a university. No wonder this group was getting bigger and stronger. They had educated leaders.

The man spoke to his soldiers in Arabic. One went out of the tent. He came back with water and food and put them on a make-shift table.

“Please, have a seat and eat,” the leader offered.

“You’re going to feed me before killing me?” he asked in a gravelly voice, the words having difficulty clearing his throat.

The Muj leader looked amused. “You Americans are arrogant even in defeat.”

“If you think downing one American plane is defeat, you’re dreaming.”

“Your courage is impressive, Major Walker, even in defeat.”

He just gave the man a stoic look.

“Do not be foolish. You need strength for the things you will experience in the coming days.”

It was an ominous warning to the fate that awaited him. Whatever it was, he knew it was horrible.

But he will not give this fucker the satisfaction of easy victory.

He sat down on the chair and finished the food and water in less than two minutes.

He stood up again.

“Okay now, be done with it. You won’t get anything from me. Not even if you pluck my eyes out and tear all my nails off. Not even if you cut off my dick and make me eat it.”

Silence.
 

“What, isn’t that a man’s worst nightmare? Losing his dick? That’s worse than losing his life.”

The man chuckled. “I like you, Major Walker. But no, that is not a man’s worst fear. At least that is not your worst fear.”
 

“You don’t know my fears.”

“Don’t I?”

The man pulled out something from the inside pocket of his voluminous black top and showed it to him. He froze. The picture of Andi and Richard.

“You think we are keeping you alive so we can get information from you?” The man laughed. “You’re wrong, Major Walker. We are keeping you alive because we are making you famous. So you can have a famous death. You are a celebrity now. Your first video went viral. You are all over the internet and the major news. You are a perfect hostage, Major Walker, an American hero. But soon, their hero will die. And they will never forget who killed him.”

He was inches from lunging at the man. Only the thought of his woman and son prevented him from committing suicide by attempting to kill this man in the presence of dozens of heavily armed Mujs.

“I can see I finally got your full attention now, Major Walker.”

He said nothing. He prayed in that moment that he wouldn’t be made to choose between his love for his country and his love for his family. Both will kill him.

He couldn’t see a way out of this. His country will not negotiate for his release. That was for sure. Every soldier who got captured knew it would be the end.
 

He would live if he’d miraculously escape.

Escape.

He cannot leave Andi and Richard. Not when this bastard had their picture and possibly their identities. The ISIL were everywhere, even in America. With just a phone call or a text message, they can go to his apartment and—

Lord God. Please….

A Muj holding a camera entered the tent.

“Alright, Major, we need to release a new video for your growing fans. You are like a soap opera they are following. We are quite sick of it as we are living it every day here in this country you and your coalition are destroying. America is fond of drama, eh? Then we will give them real drama.”
 

His insides churned in impotent rage. “No.”

“Don’t you want your superiors to see that you’re still alive? Your family?”

“My superiors consider me dead now. They don’t expect me to get out of here alive. But I don’t want my family to see me like this. This is what they’ll remember of me. I don’t want to hurt them further.”

“Surely they will be happy to see you still alive? Even just for the last time?”

He clenched his fists. He will not beg. Not even if they’d torture him. But this…“I don’t want my boy to see this one day. Please, I beg you.”

The man stared at him hard.
 
“We will do this in Raqqa during your execution. On a live stream.” Then he barked orders to his men in Arabic.

They tied his hands again and threw him back in his little hell-hole.

——*****——

Andi had seen the video.
It was erased repeatedly by the YouTube people but it kept reappearing in various channels.

She had watched it repeatedly. She was a masochist. It was the only way to feel. To trigger her emotions. Otherwise she’d be numb. Dead from heartbreak. And she cannot die, even if she wanted to. She had a son to take care of.

It had been seven days since the news exploded, but it seemed that Craig had gone MIA even before that. The US Air Force delayed revealing any information about Craig’s crash in the hopes that he had survived it, but when the ISIL released the video, USAF was forced to confirm it.
 

The video was so vivid. There was no mistaking Craig’s identity. It was shot in broad daylight as they dragged him out of his plane. They took close-ups of his face, his insignia and name embroidered on his uniform, so people won’t doubt his identity. Then they took footages while they beat him and took shots of his bloody face, too, while he lay almost unconscious on the ground.
 

Bella received a call from the USAF soon after. They said that the video indicated Craig was still alive and was being held captive by the ISIL. They didn’t elaborate any more or make any reassurance that he will be rescued. They just promised to contact Bella for any developments.

Bella was inconsolable and had to take meds to calm down. They were all staying at the Stimson house in Fort Lauderdale. Gordon fetched her at Bella’s request that they be together in these hard times.

She agreed, because truthfully, she did’t know if she can survive another day thinking of Craig. Her head hurt, her heart hurt, her entire body and soul hurt from thinking about him. Only Richard had kept her going, even if her entire universe had caved in on her.

“Be strong, Andi,” her Aunt Frida told her, rubbing her back.
 

“He promised me he will come back…” her voice cracked. “He promised!”
 

“Shhh, don’t blame him for trying to reassure you. He’s a soldier. You know the life of a soldier.”

“That’s what I was telling you about! Why I did’t wanna get involved with him in the first place! Now look where I am? Exactly where I never wanted to be!”

Her aunt was looking at her with tearful sympathy. “I don’t believe you could have stopped destiny, my child. You were bound to be exactly where you are right now. Be strong for your son.”
 

She broke down in tears all over again.

CHAPTER
17

HE WAS LOADED INTO A TRUCK, BLINDFOLDED.

His hands were tied.

Today was THE day. His execution.
 

Yes, that was inevitable now.
 
Escaping was no longer possible. His hands were bound all the time, his feet, too.
 
The only choice he had left now was how he would die. That would be HIS choice, not theirs.

He was a decorated combat pilot who had survived more than a decade of war. Avoiding ejection was a sacred vow he had made to every plane he’d been on. Meeting his demise aboard a fighter jet was never appealing as Uncle Sam would really hate that. He’d beaten the odds at airspeeds twice faster than sound, dammit, he won’t die like a helpless victim in the hands of the enemy in a manner they were now becoming a legend for.
 

No. He will not give them the honor of ending his storied career in such a diabolical display of hubris.