The Libran

By Alan Hywel

After Jack had sacrificed his life to save refugee children in a Rwandan village school, he was re-incarnated again as The Libran and sent back to earth in a race against time to save one child that was destined for much greater things and become vital to the future of mankind.
Forced to protect and work together with an alcoholic and drug addicted woman that has all of the characteristics and habits he detests most, Jack needs to work and move quickly whilst avoiding the Mastermind behind an undetected and untouchable organization that abuses children, a powerful member of the Danish Government and a chapter of Hells Angels that are all closing in on them and wanting them permanently silenced - at all costs to protect their business and reputations.
Jack uncovers webs of untruths, twists and turns along every pathway - and to the very end - still not knowing who he can genuinely trust or rely on. Using his instincts and experience whilst battling with his own inner, emotional conflicts and past, he decides to turn the tables from being the hunter, looking for a needle in a haystack, into becoming the prey and inviting his powerful adversaries to bring the battle to him.
With the force of Nature on his side and defying the force of Time, he is answerable only to The Father and Jack will do whatever he needs to succeed and restore the balance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Nov 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496998040

Alan Hywel

Alan was born in Hertfordshire, England and after many years of travelling and working outside of the UK, he returned to the county of his birth where he lives today with his family. He enjoys writing, philosophy, nature and the simple, uncomplicated things in life to make him happy.

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© 2014 By Alan Hywel. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 11/28/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4969-9801-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-9804-0 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty One

Chapter Thirty Two

Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Four

Chapter Thirty Five

Chapter Thirty Six

Chapter Thirty Seven

Chapter Thirty Eight

Chapter Thirty Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty One

Chapter Forty Two

Chapter Forty Three

Chapter Forty Four

Chapter Forty Five

Chapter Forty Six

The characters in this book are purely fictional. Any similarities between them and real individuals are purely coincidental.

At the call of the Father,

The Libran awoke,

‘Rise again my dark angel,’

Were the words that he spoke.

For my family and the world you opened up for me. I love and really appreciate everything you give me.

CHAPTER ONE

Two miles south of Lac Burera, Rwanda.

30th September 1994. 17.30

Jack sat on the ground with his back up against his hut. This was the time of day he liked the best. The noise of the villagers and their daily activities had started to subside and it wouldn´t be long now before the warm sun had disappeared down behind the trees once again. It was wonderfully serene.

He felt tired and it had been a long hard day, but he felt good with himself and he smiled inwardly as he reflected back on the days labour and the satisfying results. Along with George, they´d managed to repair the hole in the roof of the medical hut. An unfortunate little accident with some surgical spirits caused a small fire which had burned a hole in the roof late yesterday afternoon. It had to be fixed as the rainy season would be starting any day now.

As he gazed out over the treetops, he saw the black silhouette of a large bird spiraling slowly downwards in search of a bough for the night. He saw a sad irony in the picture as he compared the flight of the bird with the nation he found himself in - a land moving slowly, in ever decreasing circles, a land where natural beauty was stained by the merciless spilling of blood and wastage of lives. The bough could have represented the brief periods of peace, the short ceasefires, before the inevitable continuance experienced in the birth of a new day. Jack had seen many bloody sights on battlefields during his time in the army and even though he´d witnessed the sight of dead soldiers after a fire fight, he was repulsed by the thought of women and children, barbarically mishandled and slaughtered. They didn´t deserve this – no one deserved this, neither man, woman or child.

Whilst some claim that money is the root of all evil, Jack was in no doubt at all that politics and religion was by far a more realistic and more potent root, regardless of where one found oneself on the planet. The Hutu and Tutsi tribes of Rwanda had been at each other throats for years in a political power struggle where thousands upon thousands had lost their lives since the country had gained its independence in 1962.

Somewhere, in the safer havens of the world, people skimmed through their newspapers over their breakfast tables, commenting in their minds on how awful situations were - before skipping quickly on to the sports results, TV guides and gossip columns. People didn´t really care at all. As long as no-one was urinating in their back yards, the world could just keep on turning. Governments would cleanse their consciences by condemning these atrocities publicly before putting their sympathies in their archives under the files marked ‘not really my problem mate’.

Everyone seemed concerned, but no one did anything. They never did. If they couldn´t hear the cry for help from a nation as a whole, they sure as hell couldn´t hear a cry in the night from a child or woman re-living their own personal nightmares as they slept. Jack had been woken up abruptly on many occasions by the screams of children and adults in neighbouring huts. Sometimes it took quite a while for one of the members of the camp staff to reassure the person that they were safe and calm them down again.

The village Jack lived in had no political views or attachments whatsoever and had members from the Hutu and Tutsi tribes residing in a very small and integrated society. It was almost as if these people had seen the price which had to be paid for their past beliefs and no longer wanted to be part of it anymore. All these people wanted was the chance to live in peace and to erase their tragic memories.

Quite often and especially when they got newcomers to the camp, the staff would have a small hut open of a night time with one member of staff on duty. It was lit up inside and with something warm to drink at hand. It helped the newcomers to settle in and make them feel a little safer. Although it was nothing he was accustomed to, he relieved the staff members from time to time when they were pushed for help, but he didn´t mind. His ability at speaking French was pretty pathetic, but he got by with his few words and simple phrases. He realized with time that it didn’t matter anyway as words were no real substitute for a warm, sympathetic smile and a hug. It had actually helped him to understand the people more and the pains which they had endured. In an absurd way his life had become a paradox. For years he´d wielded a weapon and used it without hesitation and now here he was, trying to care for the people who had become the victims and help them move on with their lives. He’d seen sides of himself which he’d never experienced before and it made him feel good.

Jack was so far away in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even heard or noticed the figure of Father Delaney approaching him from around the corner. Jack liked Father Delaney. He was a mild mannered, very patient man, always willing to listen and comfort his flock. His soft Irish voice and gentle eyes could almost lull people into a state of ease and relaxation. He wasn’t a very tall man and not that young either. He was older than he looked, probably in his early sixties - but the fact that he could still run around with the kids and a ball or give Jack a hand once in a while - if George was ill - had made him look younger in appearance and in heart. Father Delaney was never frightened of getting his hands dirty or doing any kind of physical labour. After all, their toil was for preserving human life and it gave him meaning and reason to believe in his faith.

As Jack looked up their eyes met. He smiled at the Father slightly, but he could see that something wasn’t right. The smile, the gladness or optimism which usually emanated from the Fathers eyes had been replaced by concern, sadness or a worry that Jack hadn’t seen in them before. The fact that Father Delaney stood there as if he were searching for the right words to say seemed only to confirm Jacks suspicion. This was unlike the Father.

It was Jack who spoke first. He´d stopped smiling now. Pull up a pew Father and sit yourself down.

He paused for a moment, almost waiting for a change in the Fathers expression before adding You look a bit tired.

Jacks little attempt at humour to bring a smile to the Fathers face had had no effect. His face remained solemn, devoid of any real expression, just a sadness. Slowly, as if his burdens and thoughts were too heavy for his age, the old Father lowered himself wearily down on the little woven stool beside Jack, so he too sat with his back up against the hut.

Would you like some coffee, there’s still some left? Jack asked. This time he’d dropped the mockery. He could see that this was something serious.

No, no thank you Jack, but there is something I need to talk to you about though, Father Delaney said.

He stared over towards the same tree line that Jack had just been looking at whilst Jack poured himself some more coffee. He didn´t really want any more had the truth been known and his actions had only served the purpose of delaying what could only be expected to be the arrival of bad news.

Jack, have you ever met Father Jeremy? Father Delaney asked.

No I don´t think so, but I think I´ve heard his name mentioned before, Jack replied, searching for a face amongst his memories.

Father Jeremy worked in Kigali. He was a sort of coordinator that kept in touch with lots of places like our village - getting whatever medicine we need and keeping me informed about what´s happening round and about.

No, I´ve only ever been in the capital once and that was when I flew over here. I´ve never been back since, Jack said, shaking his head slightly.

Father Jeremy was murdered yesterday in his home. He was butchered as he lay in his bed.

I’m sad to hear that Father and I’m really sorry, Jack said with a sad look in his eyes. He genuinely meant it too. He knew how precious the voluntary workers and clergymen were in this country. He´d come to think of them all as being the crutch of the land.

Jack, we all know the risks of working in Rwanda, but something isn´t right here - and I’m worried…. His voice trailed off.

How do you mean? Jack said frowning curiously, prompting him to tell more and sipping at his coffee.

Father Delaney thought for a moment before continuing.

One of my good friends, Father Burton, runs a mission post in Uganda. A few days ago I lost all contact with him. He had some very important and urgent news to tell me, but he wouldn’t tell me over the radio. He sounded very concerned and he said that he’d drive down so we could talk, but he never turned up and that was three days ago… he broke off as if searching for some answers.

Oh you know how some of the roads are Father and besides which, he could just be busy, Jack said, trying to sound optimistic.

No Jack, I wish it was a simple explanation like that but I fear the worst… he paused again. I radioed Father Jeremy to ask if he’d heard anything from Father Burton and he’d apparently visited Father Burton in Uganda on the very same day that Father Burton had called me to arrange to drive down here. Father Burton had apparently caught wind of an uprising in the making.

What? said Jack, both surprised and alarmed?

What do you know about the RPF? Father Delaney asked.

That’s supposed to be the Rwandan Patriotic Front isn’t it? Jack replied.

Yes it is. There was another moment of silence and word searching before Father Delaney continued. They’re a group of Tutsi military rebels based in western Uganda, led by the former security chief of the Ugandan army. They get the backing and support of the Ugandan National Resistance Army. Father Burton had told Father Jeremy that he’d heard rumours that the RPF were planning to send some troops in to invade Rwanda.

Oh Jesus, was all that Jack could think of to say. He thought for a moment. Do you know where and when this is supposed to happen Father?

A cold shiver ran down Jacks spine as his mind raced. Had some of his old friends and colleagues been here, their chances of survival against any attacks would have been more than average, but this would be futile – a little camp with no more than fifty women and children – they’d have no chance at all! These rebels weren’t soldiers with any real military training. They were devoid of honour and mercy. The women and children would be raped and butchered and the very thoughts and visions of what could happen turned Jacks stomach and filled him with nausea and anger.

Father Delaney put his hands together under his chin as if praying before he spoke again, I don’t know and that’s what worries me Jack. I think that someone had listened in on Father Burton’s conversation with Father Jeremy and they’ve been silenced to keep these rumours from spreading or leaking out. If this happens and they do invade, the Rwandan government will get support from the Congo, the French and Belgian armies, but as soon as they’ve gone home again the Rwandan Army will go on the rampage and kill any Tutsis and even any Hutus suspected of collaborating with them. It’s a vicious circle Jack and regardless of the outcome both sides can still hit us as we’ve got Tutsi and Hutu women and children here.

Silence hung in the dusk air as both men sat there, both wondering what to say, both wondering about the future and both trying to keep barbaric images from their minds.

Jack looked up at the darkening skies. He closed his eyes slowly and he ran his fingers through his matted hair and searched in his mind for a solution, an escape plan or anything to help their situation.

He sighed heavily before opening his eyes and looking down again.

How many other people know about this Father?

Well, outside of the camp there was only Father Jeremy and Father Burton as far as I know - and they’re both dead now, he replied.

What about here, this place? Could Father Jeremy or anyone else have mentioned it to anyone else here at the camp? Jack asked.

No, he’d never have done that. That would have started a panic and we don’t even know if these rumours are true or not. I saw Alessandra as school finished today and she didn’t say anything and Michaela has been in the first aid hut all day doing some vaccinations and stock taking, so neither of them have been anywhere near the radio as far as I know. No, I’m certain that they don’t know anything at all and I haven’t said anything about Father Jeremy’s death to anyone other than you.

Okay…Think, think, think, said Jack out loud to himself.

Look, Jack I’m sorry for telling you all this, but I really don’t know what we should do or who to talk to now. These could just be rumours after all, but I’ve got a bad feeling about this. He paused for a brief second, You always seem to take things in your stride and see things in perspective. I need a bit more than just my faith here to convince me that I’m wrong. Think of all the women and children here Jack!

Jack saw the look of despair in the old Fathers face. It was a unique situation he thought - listening to a priest’s problems for a change.

Jack sighed heavily again. Okay Father, let’s do a little bit of `know-can-do´ thinking…What do we know? What are our options and what do we do?

He thought for a moment before continuing. "Well we know that there is the possible threat from the North - but we don’t know if it’s true or where or when it could take place. We also know that at least one person is dead, possibly because of his knowledge concerning an attack and another has disappeared, again for the perhaps same reason. That could indicate that there is an element of truth in the rumours and a rather strange coincidence if it’s not correct! I think I’ll choose to support your theory Father - as a worst case scenario. We’re pretty sure that no one here amongst us knows or suspects anything is building up in the North - or we would have heard or noticed something around the camp. We also know that we’re off the beaten track and pretty well hidden away from anywhere of any real importance and the rainy seasons are about to start as well - which could be to our advantage Father."

Father Delaney nodded in agreement, I’m with you so far, but how does the rainy season help us Jack? He looked a bit puzzled.

Well, a lot depends on what kind of goal the rebels have in mind Father. If it’s a full-scale invasion, the rebels need to get as far into the country as possible before any reinforcement troops can be flown in. That means that they’ll need to move fast. The rains will only slow them down if they decide to sweep the whole countryside, so they’ll be sticking to the most passable routes.

Yes, Father Delaney said nodding in agreement and with a little optimism, I see what you mean.

So, if all else fails Father, talk to your boss and pray for rain! Jack said, with the faintest hint of a little smile on his face.

Father Delaney responded this time to Jacks humour and a faint smile appeared on his face. Again there was a silence as both men thought some more.

Er….Jack……

Father Delaney hesitated and thought again before continuing, I know it’s none of my business, but have you…..have you, ever been in the military? You seem to know something about military strategy

I’ve done my time Father, was all that Jack replied.

Jack knew he was very short with his answer, but the details of his past military life seemed a very inappropriate thing to be discussing with a priest and it made him feel a little uncomfortable at the thought of going into depth should Father Delaney probe him. No, he thought, he’d avoid that.

Father Delaney, on the other hand, felt a little more at ease now. Was it because he had someone to share his concerns with, or was it because he felt safer with Jacks way of tackling the situation - coupled with Jacks military knowledge. He didn’t know, but talking to Jack was certainly helping to ease his mind.

Anyway, said Jack – jolting them away from the humour and present subject and back to the severity of the situation, Do you know if Father Jeremy kept any records or maps of our whereabouts at his place?

To be honest, I really don’t know if he had or not. I can see what you’re getting at though and I pray to God that if he did, his murderers were more interested in getting out of there as quickly as possible!

Okay, said Jack. Worst possible scenario is that they found something that compromises our location. He paused for a moment before adding, But again, we’re off the beaten track and hardly a main line target for any forces that want to move quickly, so pray again that we’ll be bypassed Father.

I hope and pray that you’re right Jack, was all that Father Delaney could say. The situation didn’t look good and he knew that.

Right, what else do we know Father? Jack said.

Both men stared out into open space again, needing time to think.

The sun had virtually disappeared now and the sky had changed from blue to a fiery mass of yellows and reds. Jack had always enjoyed this time of day best, but right here and now he was oblivious to its beauty. His mind was a blur of their predicament, outcomes, chances and possibilities - and not one single thing was in sharp focus.

Father Delaney was the first one to speak. We know we’ve got a camp full of women and children here and we’re defenceless Jack. His voice was almost silent, almost a whisper as the last words came out of his mouth.

I can’t argue with you there Father I’m afraid. I just wish I could.

Jack knew that father Delaney was right of course, but he also knew how important it was to try to inspire him with some kind of hope or optimism. If both of their flags were seen to be down, then no one had any chance of survival. The people of the camp had no idea of how their lives hung on a short thread and how much they needed and depended on Jack and the old priest.

I guess we’ve just about covered all of the `knows´ Father, so we’d better try and cover the `cans´ and see what we’ve got of options and possibilities.

Father Delaney nodded in agreement. The biggest issue I see right now is the problem of whether we should stay here or try to make a move to somewhere else.

Well there are advantages and disadvantages to both of those options Father. Jack replied. If we stayed here we can risk getting hit if our location has already been compromised. That’s the main and obvious disadvantage. On the other hand, if we stayed and the rains came, we have a good chance of getting bypassed - plus, if our location hasn’t been compromised, then we stand a fair chance of remaining hidden here and not being discovered. Does that sound logical to you?

"Yes. Yes it does. If only we knew what Father Jeremy had kept of records, Father Delaney said. It’s hard to believe how one, innocent, single scrap of paper could also be our death warrant."

Jack raised his eyebrows and nodded without saying anymore. His expression said it all and Father Delaney knew that Jack understood full well the implications of that statement.

What if we tried to make a break and move elsewhere? Father Delaney asked.

Again, there are advantages and disadvantages of doing that, Jack replied. The only real advantage is for the sake of safety, but the disadvantages are unfortunately greater."

He thought for a second and looked at his empty coffee cup before continuing. Firstly, we have no idea where any kind of attack could come from, so we’d risk running into soldiers or patrols anywhere – and a moving body of people of this quantity would easily be spotted by a patrol. Secondly, we’d have to stay away from any main roads and trails and as we’re travelling with just women and children it will be very slow going indeed. The third and equally as important an issue is what to tell the women. They’d want to know why we were moving and it would start a panic if they heard the truth.

So, do you think it would be best to stay put Jack? Father Delaney asked, hoping that Jack was right.

Jack thought for a little while before answering. He wanted and needed to choose his words carefully. He could have told the good Father a lot to reassure him in many ways but part of him wanted to forget the past and part of him wanted to spare the Father from any unnecessary detail which would only serve to unnerve him even more. He would tell the truth, he knew that, as he’d never lie to Father Delaney, but there was no need to go too deep.

I haven’t always been dedicated to the Peace Corps as you know Father, Jack said calmly whilst looking directly and earnestly into Father Delaney’s eyes. I have served time in the military and in my experience it would be better for us to remain here and hope that any storm passes us by without hitting us.

I’m going to trust in your judgement Jack, put my faith in the Lord and pray to God this won’t happen to us, the Father said.

As a man of God, he didn’t really want to know any of Jacks military past. It was ironic really. He abhorred any kind of violence, yet here he was, relying on someone with obvious knowledge of violence to try to deliver them from harm. In his mind he told himself that only God would be their real saviour in the end.

Jack wanted to confess that he had no faith anymore. He’d turned his back on God and religion the day his daughter Hope had passed away. Jack had prayed and prayed for her deliverance, but his prayers were not heard. The one and only time in his life he’d looked towards God for help and God had deserted him. Jacks entire world had collapsed with her terminal breath. How could he say that now to the Father, say that he’d learned to despise religion and wouldn’t worship or pray for anything anymore?

They both needed to change the subject and suppress their gloomy thoughts for a while. It was Father Delaney who broke the ice.

George has taken a real shine to you Jack.

Poor kid, Jack replied, but a good little lad with a heart of gold.

Father Delaney nodded in agreement.

He’s a bit of a loner though, an outcast don’t you think? I do feel sorry for him in a way.

To be perfectly honest Father, I don’t believe that whatever he’s possibly witnessed is what’s made him like he is, Jack had a searching expression on his face, trying to find the words to describe George. He seems to be in a world of his own a lot of the time, far away. I’ve seen him staring at the most ridiculous things for ages, like he’s analyzing something.

Yes, I’ve noticed that too, the Father replied and I’ve noticed how the other kids won’t let him join in any games unless one of us adults is there with them.

Yes, I’ve seen that as well, but do you know what’s strange Father?

Father Delaney shook his head to say no.

"I think it’s strange that no matter how many times the other kids reject him, he still comes back and tries again. It’s like he doesn’t have any real social skills or understands what ‘no’ means. He paused for a second, It scares me a bit Father because I’m frightened that one day, the kids will get George to do something foolish and dangerous. He’s got no sense of danger at all, so he’d probably do it and be none the wiser of his actions." There was genuine concern in Jacks voice.

We’ll have to keep an eye open for that Jack. I’ll mention it to the others as well and I’ll include something at Sunday school as well about looking after one and other.

Jack got tired of cradling his cup so he put it down on the ground.

One thing’s for sure though Jack. George always seems so proud to be with you and help you. He calls you ‘my Jack’. I’m glad you took him under your wing. You’re closer to him than anyone else here and you take the time to listen to him and treat him normally. You’ve got a good heart in you and that’s probably the greatest virtue any man can have. The Father allowed himself a smile as if to show his appreciation for Jacks work and patience with George.

It was Jacks turn to smile now. That’s the funny part Father. I never took him under my wing at all. He just appeared one morning and has been following me around ever since! Oh I know he can be a pain in the butt sometimes because he talks non-stop - and I don’t understand most of what he’s talking about - but he does help me in lots of ways, especially with some of the more menial tasks. Jack smiled again as he remembered some of the things they’d done. He’s outside my hut every morning waiting for me to come out. It’s amusing really. It’s like his day is full of small routines and rituals which he feels safer with.

No-one really knew much about George. Father Delaney came back with him one day. He’d found him alone beside a track some thirty miles outside Kigali. He’d been standing with a branch in his hand and just hitting a bush with it – and not a care in the world. Jack had guessed him to be about nine or ten years of age. He was a good natured kid, pleasant and kind and always willing to share whatever he had with others. Other kids would take advantage of this and they often teased him or used him. It kind of irritated Jack how the other kids were towards George, just as it irritated Jack that George bore no resentment or anger towards them. He wished he’d stand up for himself once in a while. No, George was definitely someone special in a variety of ways.

Jack had learned that George’s day had to be made up of simple, uncomplicated instructions. George’s ability to recall things in his short term memory were definitely impaired and if Jack asked him to get three items, he was sure that two of the items would be missing when George returned. He purely and simply couldn’t remember what he’d been told. This was frustrating for Jack at first, but he learned not to mind. On the other hand, George’s ability to remember details about things which Jack had shown him just once and weeks before was astounding in Jacks opinion. It was a kind of selective memory thing Jack thought. Ask George the name of any tool they had used together, parts of any machine they had stripped down and repaired and George knew all of the answers. It was also remarkable how fast and well he could learn and understand English. But ask him what he’d had for breakfast an hour earlier and he didn’t know. He couldn’t remember.

In a way which Jack wasn’t able to explain or understand, George had become a special person in his life.

Father Delaney gave a little grunt as he heaved his tired body up off of the stool.

Thank you Jack, you’re a good man, he said. I suppose I’d better go and tell Alessandra and Michaela about what’s going on. He turned to walk away.

Father, Jack said, Just ask Alessandra to try and keep the kids in school all day for the next few days and to keep the noise down at playtime. It might be an idea if Michaela had a first aid class for the women as well, just to keep everyone busy and confined to the camp area.

Yes, that’s probably wise, a good idea Jack. Goodnight Jack and thanks for the talk.

Goodnight Father.

Father Delaney disappeared around the corner and Jack sat for a while, thinking of what could happen in the next few days.

Together with Father Delaney, they had virtually built the entire village themselves. Even though the women had gathered grass and other materials used for the construction and helped out wherever they could, something far more important and stronger than the buildings had taken place. It was the gradual and fundamental bonding between all of the occupants. They had all learned to help each other, understand each other and care for each other. Even Jack had learned and seen sides of himself he had not seen before. He felt good with himself. Their earlier struggles and fights for survival had evolved into their deliverance and a new beginning. This was Jacks home – a home which welcomed him, appreciated him and loved him. When he thought about it, the only thing these people wanted was the same thing as him – a simple, harmonious and peaceful life.

As he lay in bed and closed his eyes, one single question came to Jacks mind. Why is it so difficult to have a simple and peaceful life?

He slept badly that night and he wasn’t the only one. Father Delaney, Alessandra and Michaela had all been tossing and turning in their beds, frightened, nervous and full of apprehension. It was impossible to relax.

CHAPTER TWO

1st October 1994. 08.10

As Jack pulled back the curtain to his hut and went outside he looked up at the sky. To his dismay the sun was climbing upwards and the big cumulus clouds in the far distance could have just as well have been a million miles away. There was no immediate sign of any rain coming. He grimaced to himself.

George had been squatting on the ground by Jacks hut. He had the collar of his tee shirt in his mouth, chewing at it as he threw small stones very inaccurately at a chicken. The chicken didn’t seem to be particularly bothered. He always seemed to be chewing on some part of his clothing. His face lit up when he saw Jack and he ran over to hug him around the waist like he usually did. Jack smiled at him and ruffled his hair playfully as he put his other arm down and around George.

Good morning George and how are you today? Jack asked smiling at him.

Jack, see - George have! he said excitedly. He held out his hand to proudly show Jack the drill bit he’d found on the ground behind the medical hut.

Good boy George, I’m glad you found that, I was looking for that. Jack said as he smiled down at him

In actual fact the drill bit was blunt and no use to man or beast. Jack had meant to throw it away yesterday, but he’d forgotten. Still, George felt very proud of himself now and Jack enjoyed seeing him like this. He took it from George and put it in his pocket before winking at him.

On the other side of the track, Alessandra and Michaela came out of the medical hut. On seeing them, Jack smiled, but it was obvious from the looks on their faces that they had spoken to Father Delaney as well last night. They both looked drawn and tired from lack of sleep. As they came over to Jack he looked down at George and said, George, can you get me the big adjustable spanner from the toolbox? You know the big one? We’re going to need that to fix the pump in a minute.

George nodded excitedly and hurried off to find the toolbox.

I’m sure that everything’s going to be alright girls, Jack said quietly, trying to sound reassuring. We’re pretty well hidden here - and besides, once the rains come, no-one will be wandering around in this neck of the woods.

I know, said Alessandra but we’re frightened and worried about what could happen to these poor people. Her voice couldn’t really hide the despair and fear that was in her mind.

I know. I understand how you feel, Jack said sympathetically. Just keep your eyes and ears open and try to stay calm. The last thing we need is a mass panic amongst the villagers. If you see or hear anything unusual, then let me know as soon as possible.

We’ll do what we can Jack. It was Michaela’s turn to reply. She sounded just as scared as Alessandra.

Alessandra, just remember to try and keep the kids quiet and Michaela, see if you can do something to occupy the women. What we don’t want is people wandering all over the place, where they might get seen or heard. I know it’s a lot to ask of you both, but we don’t have many options, so please do what you can. One last thing as well, he said frowning, see if we can wait with making hot food until after sundown. I know it’s going to be difficult, but the smoke is a dead give away and can be seen for miles.

We’ll do what we can Jack and hopefully this will all pass over and be nothing, said Michaela.

I know you will ladies and I’m sure it’s probably nothing to be worried about at all, said Jack encouragingly. He only wished he could convince himself as well.

If anything should happen, get everyone inside the school or medical hut as soon as possible. They’ll be safest there. I’m sure that you’re right Michaela and everything will be back to normal in a couple of days, just you wait and see. It’s probably just a storm in a teacup. Jack said smiling, trying again desperately to get them to relax and think positive.

George reappeared with the large adjustable spanner in his hands, smiling as usual.

Okay ladies? Don’t worry, Jack said winking at them.

The two ladies turned and headed off down the track towards father Delaney’s hut, talking quietly to each other.

Well George, let’s go and see what we can do with the pump.

The village was only a small place, situated on a plateau which dropped off to a valley below. In many ways the plateau was more like a canyon. To the north was a very sharp incline with dense vegetation making it totally impassable on foot. To the west lay a dense forest on the inclination and a small waterfall where Jack had tapped a source for the villagers to use. It was pumped across by an old motor which Jack had repaired a while back but now it needed servicing again. There were trees on the southern drop from the plateau, impassable with vehicles and extremely hard work to get up and the only real entrance was from the east. The plateau was covered in a deep blanket of long, yellow grass - all except for the village area. The village itself was very basic with two rows of huts. The southern row provided the bulk of the living accommodation whilst the northern row had the hospital and school situated on it, along with the remaining huts for living in.

Jack stood and viewed the layout for a moment, trying to decide in which direction any offensive would most likely come from. The east side was without doubt the most accessible and simplest line of penetration. After giving it some thought again, he smiled down at George and they went to fix the pump.

The familiar sound of an AK47 Kalashnikov assault rifle brought Jack abruptly back from his thoughts to reality. It was unmistakeable. The gentle sound of the breeze and George mumbling away to himself had been instantly broken by a single shot. George hadn’t noticed a thing, he was wrapped up in his own thoughts, but Jack spun around and got in a crouched position behind a large tree. His eyes began to scan the area on the eastern side of the plateau. It sounded as if the shot came from that direction, in the long grass area and there, where it was hardest to spot any kind of sniper or attackers if they were laid low. Anyone lying still in the grass would be impossible to see from ground level. Jack knew there would have to be more than one soldier – a patrol perhaps – but how many?

A second, third and a fourth shot rang out in very quick succession. The third and fourth shot overlapped each other so Jack knew there were at least two shooters out there. As the fourth shot was fired Jack caught a glimpse of a muzzle flash and he’d pinpointed one of the shooters locations.

Some of the villagers had started to scream already and it would only be a matter of seconds before panic had spread amongst them. Jack knew that chaos only makes the situation easier for any offensive force. He had no idea if anyone had been hit but he needed to act fast if he was to try and stop the soldiers. His first concern right here and now was George. He had to make sure that he was well hidden and stayed hidden as he’d have to leave him here. If the village got over run, George’s only chance of survival was out here. These barbaric, so called soldiers would kill and butcher anyone and everyone.

Jack leopard crawled over to George quietly and as fast as he could. His pulse had increased and adrenalin was starting to kick in. If Jack was to be of any use at all, he desperately had to stay undetected and remain focused. George was still sitting down, oblivious to everything and staring long and hard at some kind of insect crawling on his hand. He smiled to himself as he turned his hand one way then the other so the insect was on a permanent uphill climb.

Jack came from behind George, reached up and put his hand firmly over Georges’ mouth. Gently turning Georges head towards him, Jack whispered slowly and deliberately, George, we’re going to play a little game now and we mustn’t speak or make any noise. Do you understand?

George nodded and his eyes widened. Jack could feel the grin under his hand at the thought of playing a game. Jack continued and whispered, I bet I’m better than you and that I win. He winked at George, trying to encourage him to do his utmost and be silent.

I want you to crawl over to the tree there with me, just like I do and lay there very quietly. Then I want you to stay there – you mustn’t move – and I will go and get you a surprise. Jack raised his other hand and put his fore finger to his lips. Shhhh, he said.

He slowly released his hand from George’s mouth and pointed to his lips again before beckoning him to follow. They crawled flat on their stomachs over to the trunk of the tree and Jack smiled at George as if to say good boy. George smiled again as Jack whispered, Stay here and I’ll be back in a minute.

In his mind, Jack had memorized the approximate location of the one shooters. He moved as quickly as he dared, leopard crawling eastwards, hoping to circle behind the shooter. He just prayed that there were no larger force in the area now to hear the gunfire and he knew he had to stop the shooters fast. He crawled, counting in his mind the approximate distance he had covered and then adding an extra thirty metres on to be sure he was behind the located gunman. He changed direction now, crawling north. Another volley of shots rang out, helping him to confirm the location and move momentarily faster as the gunfire acted as a dampener to the sounds of his movements. He paused for a moment after the last shot and listened hard for any tell tale signs which could signify the precise location. He felt the sweat forming on his forehead and tried to keep the sound of his heavier breathing as silent as he could. He daren’t kneel up to look around as he wasn’t sure if there were more shooters behind him or not. As he listened he heard the voices of two men about ten metres in front of him. If they were talking at that volume they couldn’t be laying right next to each other, Jack thought. On top of that, if they are talking, they can’t be very highly trained professionals and they don’t have any throat microphones on.

Jack couldn’t see if they were actually targeting people or just firing sporadically in the hope of hitting someone, but during the next volley he edged his way far enough forwards so he could see the soles of a pair of worn out military boots.

He tried to control his breathing and pulse as the adrenalin rushed around his body. Very slowly he drew his legs up under himself and adopted a position which resembled an Olympic sprinter low down in the starting blocks, waiting for the starting pistol. As the second shooter fired off more shots, Jack threw himself fully forwards with his arms stretched out in front and landed with full body weight on top of the first shooter, pinning him down and knocking the wind out of him. Before he had any time to react, Jacks left hand had reached around the shooters face whilst the right hand at the back of his head took a firm grip and in one swift movement Jack had twisted the head around so violently and with such speed that the first shooters neck broke instantly.

Jack breathed out heavily, his heart pumping rapidly as he felt a familiar cold sweat on his neck – one he’d never wanted to feel again. The soldier’s head fell limply to one side when he released it and he rolled quietly off of the body, picking up the weapon. He removed the magazine as quietly as he could and checked the number of rounds left. There were still five rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber of the rifle giving him six altogether. He frisked the body quickly for any more weapons, but it seemed that there wasn’t anything else of use. They must be a reconnaissance patrol and not supposed to be engaging anyone. They’d probably stumbled over the village by chance and thought that there were some easy pickings here and some heroic stories for their superiors to report back with. They would have also noticed the fact that there weren’t any men or soldiers here to defend the women. That thought would have only excited them more.

Jack knew that the other shooter must be close by. They’d been talking to each other just before, so he couldn’t be too far away. The sound of a magazine being changed confirmed that fact and Jack guessed the man to be no more than ten yards to the immediate right of his position. Aiming low and flat, Jack fired four quick rounds blindly in a small arc of where he visualized the next shooter was before rolling as quickly as he could ten yards east. He laid still and quiet for a moment, listening for any signs of retaliation or life. The only real noise he could hear was the screaming and panic in the village. He didn’t dare wait much longer before moving in on the second shooter as he didn’t know how many more of them there were. Amongst the panic in the village, Jack could make out the distant voice of Father