Read On the riverside of promise Online

Authors: Vasileios Kalampakas

Tags: #adventure, #action, #spies, #espionage, #oil, #nigeria, #biafran war

On the riverside of promise (29 page)

 

* * *

 

The torrential rain had turned into a
constant drizzle, an all-encompassing wet curtain. Andy had been
leading their way to the extraction point - several kilometers
southwest - in an almost complete silence. Ethan knew it all had to
do with Nicole, but he felt there was little he could say or do at
that moment. It would take time; he had learned that the hard
way.

 

The dense vegetation, the rain and their
exhaustion as well as the wearing-out of the adrenaline meant they
were taking their time. Still, when Andy looked at his watch, it
seemed that they would be there on time: it was dusk. Ethan then
asked Andy:

 

“How close are we?”

 

Andy stopped for a moment, said nothing and
pointed to a clearing up ahead. They were walking down a small
bluff, with the river on their right, overlooking the rest of the
forest, a veritable sea of greens and browns with a misty fog in
place of a sky.

 

Ethan was trying not to think about anything
else other than a hot shower and a round or more of drinks. But he
couldn’t stop bringing up Nicole’s image in his mind; her face all
pale and Andy’s cries piercing his ears. He knew it was the only
way, it was just that he also felt Andy might never see it like
that. And that hurt.

 

He kept his silent council and moved on.
After a few minutes, they had arrived at the clearing with time to
spare. Ethan sat down on the ground to rest his legs and feet,
while Andy kept looking at the sky, as if searching for the
helicopter.

 

“He’ll be here, alright. Don’t worry about
that. There’s no one following us, at least not close enough. Plus,
with that kind of explosion, I’m pretty sure half the 3rd division
is rushing towards that place.”

 

“How can you be sure? How can you know?”
snapped back Andy with a furious stare.

 

“Look, you’re right. I can’t. I’m just
guessing, just like everyone else. But he’ll be here. I trust
James.”

 

“That friend of yours? You could’ve trusted
me, damn you, couldn’t you?”

 

“I did, Andy. That’s why I did it. You heard
her, she wouldn’t have come. She’d shoot us both dead when she felt
like it. I just saw an opening and did what I had to do. I felt
you’d-”

 

“You thought she’d work her charm on me and
then kill me? She could have done it a thousand places, Ethan! In
my sleep, in my food and drink. When we were making love, when we
were out there, killing in the name of… Fuck me, I don’t know
anymore!” cried Andy before falling down on his knees and sobbing
quietly. Ethan remained silent, unable to say anything of value.
Andy went on after a few moments, his voice trembling, rising and
falling with each word:

 

“There are things you need as a constant.
Things to make sure you’re still sane, things that you can look
back and remind you who you are. Faces, places from your past,
before you went into the field. They told us about it, how to
handle it, how people fought it off during and after the war. But
when you take that away from a man… When you find out what that
single point of failure is, then…”

 

His voice trailed off with a miserable echo
of finality. Ethan was trying to find words, any words to make his
brother feel that not everything was lost, that he was there to
stand by him. But it felt pretentious and lacking. Ethan knew then
he had gone through all this to find his brother, and now even
though he was standing a couple of feet away, he was losing him
anew. He couldn’t allow that, so he told him:

 

“I can’t bring her back. I was wrong, Andy.
But there’s nothing any of us can do now. Forgive me. That’s all
I’ll ever ask of you again.”

 

Andy looked up at Ethan with a hint of tears
welling up in his eyes. It was as if he was looking through a
mirage at someone very familiar yet strange to him. He cleared his
throat then and told his brother:

 

“I can’t find it in my heart now Ethan. I
just can’t. But I can promise you we’ll always be brothers. I hope
I’ll find the time,” he said and lowered his head in contemplation
once more. Ethan bit his lips and nodded silently.

 

Then he heard a pulsating, faint thumping
noise that grew louder every moment. It was the sound of helicopter
blades swooshing through the air; to Ethan, it sounded like
trumpets from heaven. Despite all the guilt and the uneasiness he
felt, it brought a thin smile to his lips. Andy took notice as a
light troop transport helicopter appeared over the treetops through
the thinning fog at a distance, crisscrossing the river as it kept
a northerly route.

 

“Hey! Hey! That’s James, always on time!”
said Ethan as he started flailing his hands wildly and jumping up
and down. Andy stood up and had a better look. The helicopter swung
towards them after a few seconds, circled up above and began a
slow, careful descend right in the middle of the clearing.

 

Ethan could see James through the cockpit,
grinning. As the helicopter began touching down, both him and Andy
crouched low and tried to shield their faces from the updraft of
the rotor blades that sent sand and mud flying towards them.

 

The helicopter touched down with closed
side-doors. Ethan noticed the engine pitch was going down as well;
the rotor blades were spinning to a halt. James had powered the
helicopter down for some reason.

 

Andy was looking at James warily, while Ethan
shook his head to reassure him. He himself though, was feeling
something was amiss. James opened the cockpit door and jumped off
the helicopter. He was wearing the standard issue flight suit,
complete with helmet which he promptly removed and let the rain
wash over his face. He blinked and tasted the rain for a moment,
before he smiled at Ethan.

 

Ethan smiled back somewhat awkwardly and told
him:

 

“We can’t thank you enough, James. Is there
some problem? Why did you power down?”

 

James took his handgun out of his holster
casually, while his face became contorted, as if suddenly angered
or threatened.

 

“Because you’re not leaving,” James said and
pointed the gun at Andy who had precious little time to remember
that he had heard James’ voice somewhere before. And then Andy was
already lying on his back; the power of the shot had sent him
flying a couple of feet away, his shoulder a torn mess. His vision
became blurry from the pain, the wound feeling hot like molten
iron. Ethan instead of rushing towards James had remained stunned,
unable to comprehend what had just happened.

 

“Jesus, you shot Andy. Why the fuck did you
just shoot Andy?” cried Ethan, as he tried to tend to his brother,
who was rolling around the muddied ground, bleeding, and in pain.
Ethan took out what few things remained from the medical kit to at
least stop the bleeding. James replied then with a deep, sombre
voice:

 

“Because I want you to feel the pain, Ethan,”
he said and took another clear shot at Andy. Andy’s body stopped
moving as it jerked once and then became limp. Ethan looked at
Andy: his eyes stared vainly at the sky and an entry wound adorned
his forehead. Pieces of skull and brain matter were lying on the
mud near his slightly deformed head. Andy was dead.

 

He felt he was going to go mad at that
instant, blood rising up in his head which throbbed like it was
about to explode. James' voice made him turn around and face him
with the simple intent of killing him.

 

“Look at your dead brother, Ethan. God smiled
upon you today. Because you had time to see him one last time. I
never did,” he said, shaking his head slowly, coolly.

 

Ethan cried out in anguish and slumped
himself besides his brother’s body, unable to even stand upright.
The upheaval of feelings was tremendous. Ethan felt everything all
at once: infuriated and cheated, guilty and beaten down, ready to
kill and simply waiting to die. He merely found the strength to ask
with a crippled voice:

 

“Why? Whatever for?”

 

“For Enkele, my brother. My flesh and blood.
My only hope in this world,” said James through grating teeth.

 

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” said Ethan
with a terribly confused voice, his face utterly broken. James
swallowed hard and wiped some of the rain off his forehead. He
almost shouted rather than talked:

 

“Kenya! It was you. The freedom fighters. It
was your long range patrol, Ethan! It wasn’t about the lives of
your men, though. You had a choice, and you still pulled the
trigger. You killed my brother in cold blood. It was you!” he
cried, the gun not waving an inch from his hand, aimed straight at
Ethan’s chest.

 

Ethan stammered, barely able to find the
words: “I didn’t… I didn’t know. It was war, James, for God’s sake!
How could I’ve known!” he yelled indignantly.

 

“But I did. I learned. Normally I could never
have hoped to find out, but fate chose otherwise. And then I had no
choice: I had to kill your brother. An eye for an eye, Ethan!” he
cried with misplaced fervor.

 

“You mean, you knew? What did you know?”
asked Ethan with a deep frown and a hint of fear in his voice.

 

“Everything!” cried James and laughed
bitterly, tears running down his maddened eyes before he
continued:

 

“I was their source inside Lagos, Ethan! And
I knew things about them. What I didn’t know, I learned in the
process. And so it came that I knew your brother wasn’t really
missing. I wanted you to go after him, find him for me. Do all the
dirty work.”

 

“Revenge? This was all about fucking
revenge?” asked James with an angry cry. James replied calmly, with
a seemingly ever-widening grin attached to his face.

 

“No. You’re right, you’re a smart man. It
couldn’t be just about a feeling now, could it? A simple, pure
feeling? There was more, I’ll admit. I saw the flames on the way
here. A job well done. With Andy and Nicole dead, the French
organization’s almost wiped out. The Biafrans will not hold out for
long. Playing both sides will make me a rich, black man in a poor,
African country.”

 

“Money and revenge? Is that fair game for the
death of your brother? Of my brother?” asked Andy with real anger
and fear stressing his voice further.

 

“No, I try to think about it as compensation.
My brother cannot return from the dead, but I’ve avenged him,
wiping any trace of my involvement with the Biafrans in the
process.. And all that money will go a long way into making his
dream come true, Ethan. A free Africa, a free Nigeria.”

 

“And you’ll do that by making a deal with the
British? Isn’t that the devil?”

 

“Whoever I need to, Ethan. Even the white
elephant will rot away and leave only his tusks behind,” he said as
he pointed the gun squarely at Ethan’s head, ready to take a final,
murderous shot.

 

“I thought you were a friend,” said Ethan who
suddenly got up and started walking towards James, the gun still
trained at him.

 

“Whatever gave you that impression?” asked
James with a hushed laughter, the gun steady in his hands; his face
determined, still.

 

“I don’t know, at least we might have been,”
said Ethan as he stood right in front of James, no more than three
feet away from the gun.

 

“It’s all happenstance, Ethan,” said James as
he momentarily shrugged, the gun looking slightly away from
Ethan.

 

And that was when Ethan sprang at him,
swiveling his torso sideways. James’ gun went off with a clamor,
but Ethan was already pushing the gun away with one hand and aiming
for his neck with the other. James’ gaze went wild as he realised
he had missed, but it curiously enough settled the next moment in a
calm, peaceful stare; his carotid was shattered and he was drowning
in his own blood.

 

James fell face down in the mud, the colour
of his blood lost in the reddish brown mud. Ethan took a moment,
sighed and looked at James body with a peculiar mix of disdain,
surprise and sadness. He then took another look at his brother and
saw his vacant stare as rain kept falling on him. He sat down in
the mud, and began to cry as if the rain that fell from above
burned him. After a few more minutes, he came to grips and
quietened down.

 

He took a deep, long breath and looked at the
bodies once more. He saw the helicopter idly sitting by and started
laughing and crying, without being able to control himself; he felt
he had finally let go. He didn’t know how to fly; he suddenly
realised he was still alive and couldn’t stop laughing at the
absurdness of it all.

 

 

THE END

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