Chapter 28 #2
The sound of our own weapons joining the fight changed everything.
This was the first time these men had fired back under live contact.
The last time they’d taken fire, all of them had frozen.
Their bodies had locked and their fingers had gone dead on their triggers while rounds chewed through the brush above them.
Not tonight.
Baraka fired controlled pairs. The rangers beside him held their positions and engaged their assigned sectors.
I gave an order—shift fire left—and it happened.
Three rifles adjusted, and rounds moved to the new position without hesitation.
The first time an order had been followed under live fire since I’d landed in this country.
Andrew’s voice came through the radio. “Zayn’s group engaging northeast. He’s got them oriented and holding.”
Nobody had told Zayn to engage. He’d read the situation and acted.
The attackers started giving ground. Their fire shifted back, the muzzle flashes pulling farther from the perimeter.
I pushed our line forward. Baraka’s team advanced fifty meters past the barricade, then another fifty, pressing into the space the shooters were abandoning.
On the radio, Andrew reported the same from the east. Zayn’s group was moving up.
The attackers were falling back on both sides.
This time, it felt like we were winning.
We were successfully pushing our adversary away from our home.
It seemed like fewer and fewer shots were coming our way. And soon, we didn’t hear any at all. I called on the radio for everyone to hold fire and hold position to observe.
We heard nothing but perhaps distant rustling getting farther and farther away. And then truck engines. It was too hard to tell. It was distant enough and the foliage thick enough that the sound was barely perceptible to us where we were.
Just about as quick as they came, they were gone.
The camp went quiet.
We held. Nobody moved from his position. The silence spread out from the perimeter into the bush, and I counted sixty seconds. Then another sixty. The insects came back first, then the distant alarm call of a bird, and nothing else.
“Sound off,” I said into the radio. “Andrew.”
“Here. All clear east.”
“Zayn.”
“Here. Nobody hit.”
“Baraka.”
“Here.”
Down the line. All accounted for.
Nobody hit. Nobody down.
I got to my feet from behind the tree I’d been using for cover. We were well north of camp now, deep enough into the bush that I couldn’t see the cabins behind us.
Baraka got to his feet beside me. Sweat ran down his temples, but his face had split into a grin he couldn’t hold back. The ranger next to him was speaking fast in Swahili, the words spilling out in the breathless rush that follows surviving something you weren’t sure you would.
Andrew came across the compound from the east with Zayn’s group behind him. Zayn had his weapon at low ready, barrel down, his knuckles white on the grip. He caught my eye and gave one short nod. Behind him, his group fell in without being told.
Jomo was at the back of Zayn’s formation. His hands were shaking. The tremor was visible from ten feet away, a fine vibration running through his fingers where they gripped his rifle. But he was standing.
“Perimeter check,” I said. “Andrew, take Zayn’s group east and confirm it’s clear. Baraka, hold north with your team. Nobody stands down until we’ve swept the full line.”
They moved.
I waited in the middle of the compound while they worked. The burned-out vet facility behind me. The water tank with its painted threat. The cabins in their loose cluster, unlit windows facing inward.
Andrew’s voice came back on the radio. “East is clear.”
Baraka a minute later. “North clear.”
The camp was ours. The rangers had held their ground under sustained fire, returned fire with discipline, and driven the attackers back. All of their training had culminated in this brief firefight, and they’d handled it like true men.
I should have felt something good about that. I would, later. Right now, my body was telling me to do one thing and only one thing.
I turned toward Sarah’s cabin.
The door was open.
I’d told her to stay inside. I’d told her to stay down. The door was open, and no light came from inside. She might have opened it after the shooting stopped. She might have heard the all clear and come to the threshold to wait for me. That was the version I told myself as I walked toward it.
“Sarah?”
Nothing.
I crossed the distance and stepped inside. The cabin was empty. The bed was unmade, the sheet pushed to one side where she’d been lying when the radio woke us. Her boots were gone from the floor beside the chair. Her field kit was still on its hook by the closet.
“Sarah?”
I was louder this time. The bathroom door was open, but it was empty. The window was shut.
Her book was facedown on the side table where she’d left it before bed.
Everything in the room was exactly where it should be. The only thing missing was her.
I went back outside. The temporary vet setup was empty.
The mess tent was empty, chairs pushed in from dinner and undisturbed. One of Baraka’s men was still holding his position on the north line.
“Have you seen Sarah?”
He shook his head.
I checked the other cabins. The supply storage. The vehicle bay. I asked each ranger I passed. Same answer.
Nobody had seen her. I felt dread spreading outward from my chest.
I went back to her cabin and looked at the ground all around it. Looking for signs of anything. In the back, I found tire tracks.
Fresh ruts in the soft dirt. They came in from the south. The opposite side of camp from the gunfire. They curved behind the row of cabins where nobody was watching because the whole camp had been facing north.
I followed the ruts. They ran along the backside of the cabin cluster and out through the access track that fed the south approach. A vehicle had come in quietly while we were chasing the one group north.
The attackers had never tried to advance. They didn’t need to take ground. They didn’t need to win the firefight. They needed ten minutes of noise and muzzle flash to keep us fixed in one direction while a second team came in from behind.
They needed her.
One vehicle. From the south. Straight to the cabins.
I’d told her to stay. I’d told her to stay in this cabin, stay down, and I’d come back for her. And she had. She’d done exactly what I asked.
Nasser had Sarah.