Time Bomb

By James E. Hardin

THE GAME THEY ARE PLAYING THREATENS YOUR SAFETY

Joey Rokefeller, President of the United States Federal Reserve, soon discovers hes caught in a twisting web of lies and deceit that leads hint not a controversial clash with the Russian government. All of Joeys grandfather colleagues secret intelligence information belonging to the Russian are now in his possession, and he has plans to turn the incriminating documents over to General Inspector Honsi Gaddafi for sanction purposes involving an all out man hunt for him the Notorious Russian Mafia.

Fearing for his life and the lives of his family, Joey discovers his killers are cold blooded, extremely dangerous, and will do anything to get the documents from him. Time is of the essence!

Will Joeys late grandfather colleagues disappear looking to save there on lives while Joey waits to die? On his every step the Russians leave a bloody trail of murders until there frantic search for Joey is uncovered!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 20, 2015
• ISBN: 9781514426777

James E. Hardin

James is the grandson of a deceased army veteran. He grew up in a small town of Shelby, NC located outside Charlotte. Mother's name is Linda Dun father Tracy Hardin. He has four siblings and the father of one. Favorite authors are God, Tom Clancey, John Grishm, and James Patterson. Political views liberalism. He's a visionary intrigued with marketing, advertisement. Humble guy who enjoys reading poetry and writing. He has dreams of becoming an inspiring motivational speaker. Loves to travel. Consider himself a humanitarian with a huge heart. Has work experiences in factory mechanics and is a Big North Carolina tarheel Basketball fan.

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Copyright © 2015 by James E. Hardin.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2015918954

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-5144-2679-1

                Softcover       978-1-5144-2678-4

                eBook           978-1-5144-2677-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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.

Rev. date: 11/16/2015

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CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

Time Bomb

Chapter 1 Rise To Dictatorship

Chapter 2 Von

Chapter 3 Standoff

Chapter 4 Smoke

Chapter 5 Concrete Jungle

Chapter 6 Distress

Chapter 7 Rescued

Chapter 8 Expedient

Chapter 9 Russian Mob

Chapter 10 Mob Ties

Chapter 11 Dirty Work

Chapter 12 Roll Call

Chapter 13 Crisis In China

Chapter 14 Gha

Chapter 15 Rockefella Burial

Chapter 16 Betrayal

Chapter 17 Betrayal, Revenge

Chapter 18 Captivity

Chapter 19 General Gaddafi

Chapter 20 Rockefella Principles

Chapter 21 Rockefeller$

Chapter 22 The Russian’s Malice

Chapter 23 Mob Hit

Chapter 24 Danger

Chapter 25 Federal Reserve Office Building

Chapter 26 Big Apple, New York

Chapter 27 Mastermind

Chapter 28 Central Intel

Chapter 29 Skillfully Trained

Chapter 30 The Unexpected

Chapter 31 Vendetta

Chapter 32 Rebel Invasion

Chapter 33 Vindictive

Chapter 34 Ambush

Chapter 35 One Man’s Great Power

Chapter 36 Swift Justice

Chapter 37 Bombshell

Chapter 38 Departure

Chapter 39 Eliminate/Eradicate

Chapter 40 Evidence

Chapter 41 Russian Ambassador

Chapter 42 Now Or Never

Chapter 43 One Night Of Passion

Chapter 44 Commissioner Dorovic

Chapter 45 Mafia In China

Chapter 46 The New China

Chapter 47 Tourist Or Terrorist

Chapter 48 Two Birds, One Stone

Chapter 49 Secret Society

Chapter 50 Redemption

Chapter 51 Factory

Chapter 52 Unsettled And Restless

Chapter 53 Cold War

Chapter 54 Casualties Of War

Chapter 55 Life Or Death

Chapter 56 Headhunters

Chapter 57 In A Rush To Kill

Chapter 58 Manhunt

Chapter 59 Retribution

Chapter 60 At Every Turn

Chapter 61 Tel Aviv

Chapter 62 The Hour Of Sorrow

Chapter 63 Time Is Of Our Essence

Chapter 64 Azerbaijan Shooter

Chapter 65 Every Man For Himself

Chapter 66 Wake-Up Call

Chapter 67 Compensation

Chapter 68 Irish

Chapter 69 In The Mist Of Darkness

Chapter 70 Inferno

Chapter 71 Mayhem In New York City

Chapter 72 No Leads

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Special thanks to my mother Linda Dun, to my siblings Dawayne Wilson, Tracy, sherry and Melissa Hardin to my son Jamez Huskey and my dear cousin Shune Hardin thank you to my administrator Shanta Robinson my typist Jermaine fuller Angela Walters, Ida McClain Enoch Anderson Alona Kelly, Rashard Erby, Rodrick Bing, Rip united states army veteran James Hardin Sr. And most importantly my lord and savior Jesus Christ!

TIME BOMB

By: James E. Hardin

After the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991, the newly Independent Republics of the Southern Caucasus Georgia, Azerbaijan, and Armenia regained strategic importance through a realization of the enormity of oil and natural gas reserves lying beneath and along the Caspian Sea; this ignited a scramble to lay pipelines across the Southern Caucasus to bring these resources to the European market. The pipelines were built basically to increase a trade boom by transporting goods east and petroleum products west across the Southern Caucasus.

The Azerbaijans built a railway beginning at the Capital Baku. The railway traveled through the Georgian City of Tbilisi and made its way into Turkey. Russian President Sylvester Pollack was surprised by the news that the Turkish joined in the oil route. No one informed him of Turkey’s decision, and they were neighboring countries who shared close relations with one another. Some even consider Turkey as the Russian’s backyard. When Azerbaijan, Georgia, and Turkey governments held meetings about the oil route, decisions were made to deliberately exclude Russia and Armenia. The pipelines ran from east to west providing an alternative to avoid going through Russia which was north and Iran south. President Pollack became livid. He tried consulting with Turkish leaders hoping to persuade them into backing out of the oil route and also suggest they close their borders and restrict the Azerbaijans specifically from crossing.

However, Turkey is a poverty-stricken country and wouldn’t let an opportunity such as this pass. The Azerbaijans were the first to make the scramble to Baku where the oil and natural gas were, so they received the reward and then later began to dominate the area’s economy. There was obvious hostility from the Azerbaijans toward Russia because the Russians had oppressed the Azerbaijans while under Russia’s communist empire and toward Armenia for their association with the Russians. Azerbaijan decided instead of running the oil route through Armenia which would have cost less, the Azerbaijan deliberately bypassed Armenia. It was similar to a middle finger. Those countries involved thought it was a brilliant ideal. The route gave the Azerbaijans direct access to Europe through Turkey.

An extremely furious President Pollack was highly disappointed. The Turkish government had blankly disregarded him, and Pollack felt they gave him a middle finger. This was not supposed to be happening, not from a country who were supposed to be brothers to the Russians. Pollack then went to the Georgians desperately trying to convince the Georgians into not participating in the oil route and then requested that they back out.

Two weeks later, inside of a very intensified conference room, ambassadors, presidents, and governors held a meeting where President Pollack of Russia had to be restrained by security. He slammed his fist down against the marble table, knocking over water glasses and sending legal documents flying all over the room.

This is the dumbest fuckin’ thing in the world. You son of bitches have no idea at all what you’re doing. This oil will benefit those bloody Americans. Do you want them in power, you stupid son of bitches? he screamed in his heavy Russian accent. Well, that’s what you’re about to do. You’re about to put them in power over the Soviet, give them fuel for their aircrafts and tanks, he continued to shout as three Russian security guards wrestled with him.

President Pollack’s belligerent behavior surprised everyone around the table. It was so unprofessional. However, the security guards managed to usher him out of the door. Apparently, Mr. Pollack could care less about the Americans, and giving them ammunition to blow their own asses off the map was ridiculous. America was one of their worst enemies, and giving the enemy ammunition was unheard of. America opposed a threat to Russia. This is how President Pollack viewed it, and nothing or no one could change his mind. However, the conference continued, and all parties disregarded President Pollack, not because of his action but because the Azerbaijans were offering both the Georgians and Turkish governments sixty-five million dollars annually in transit fees.

TEN YEARS LATER

The economic development for both Georgia and Turkey had shown tremendous progress. However, hostility toward the Georgians soon began to increase from Russians when the Russians discovered the Georgians were refusing them access to their borders and by stopping them from trading with the Armenians. Russia’s president, Sylvester Pollack, had formed ties with the Armenians once he realized the Russians would not be a part of the oil route. So Russia and Armenia had somehow worked out a minor trading clause among themselves and begun meeting at the Georgian border. However, the Georgians soon found out about it then deliberately shut their borders down, not allowing the two countries to conduct transactions.

Although the Georgian’s decision was mostly influenced by the wealthy Azerbaijans, who knew the danger this could bring? The Azerbaijans later received inside information of a possible attack plot weeks before Russia and Armenia were able to put their plan together. The Russians were planning to pass off deadly explosives and C-4 to their Armenian friends so the Armenians could bomb the oil route.

President Pollack couldn’t believe it. His anger and frustration nearly drove him to release a warhead, but he then decided against it because the Georgians were only miles apart, and a warhead could possibly affect the Russians as well. President Pollack felt the Georgians had pushed him overboard. History reflected Russia invited Georgia into the ranks of the Soviet Union somewhere in the nineteenth century. However, Pollack wanted to eliminate them in this era. He decided to shut Russia’s borders down, refusing the Georgians access to Moscow, a move considered as revenge.

The conflict between the two countries went back and forth. Tension mounted then escalated, spilling over into a nasty war. The Russian’s military was just too much for the Georgians. After defeating them, Russia took control over South Ossetia and Abkhazia. The oil rich Azerbaijan financed the rebuilding process for Georgia and also advised them that this would not interfere with their proceeds from the oil route. Pollack was wrong; he assumed the war against the Georgians would have completely overwhelmed them. But it was the help from the Azerbaijans who came to their aid. President Pollack decided to let go, move forward, and locate another alliance who had the potential to fill the gap.

The Russian Mafia continued their assassinations at an alarming rate; there were a few bombings also. It seemed as if President Pollack no longer had control of his country. He could not stop the Mafia terrorist from their acts of violence. President Pollack both feared and respected the MOB. When it came time to locate their alliance, it was the Mafia’s suggestion Pollack quickly speak with the Chinese who in fact did agree on a trading clause with Russia.

CHAPTER 1

RISE TO DICTATORSHIP

The Congo Imperialist Government ruled South Africa with an iron fist; the regime was undergoing a drastic makeover, once functioning under normal control and peace but now beginning to become an oppressive dungeon. The Congo rebels were crawling all over the region while implementing the brutal laws.

They had taken control of the people with acts of violence and psychological tactics. The ruthless rebels formally known as the Congo guerrillas rewrote South Africa’s constitution from their own perspective. There were reports of home invasions, murder, and even rape. The rebels had no limits to the heinous crimes they repeatedly committed. South Africa soon became a virtual high-tech prison, leaving the people to become instruments of use. Some of the people tried protesting, but the Congos used clubs and sticks to easily overpower the small band of people. Their security was just absolutely to powerful for them.

After witnessing several brutal beatings and killings, the citizens submitted. Some escaped and ran into other countries, not willing to face the harsh realities of being oppressed, while the rest became subjugated to the new government, making South Africa one big institution.

CHAPTER 2

VON

Jaquez Von migrated to South Africa from Haiti shortly after the Haitians bloody war against the Dutch. Haitians had refused to allow the Dutch to colonize their county, so war broke out, and the Haitians defeated the Dutchmen. Haiti became the first black independent country. Jaquez Von fought in the Dutch Haitian war. His bravery, loyalty, and dedication toward the Haiti government and its people were remarkable.

Jaquez was leader and captain of one of the few Haitian military bands during the war because of his outstanding skills in combat techniques. As leader, Jaquez instructed his men in various tactics. When the war was over, Jaquez received a medal for his contributions. His inspirational speeches, such as Fight with Dignity, he was known to have repeatedly said before the war to motivate his men. Die with Honor, he would also chant. Jaquez’s chants still motivate some today in the Haitians culture.

He also instructed his men on how to overpower and defeat the enemy. Jaquez knew what the Dutchmen’s weaknesses and strengths were that would allow them victory. We will not allow these people, these evil men, to take our country away from us. Von was quoted to have said during the war. Jaquez’s bravery and inspirational speeches earned him the name Von the Don. The word Don was short for The Dominate One! He also fought along the frontlines with his men surviving one of the bloodiest wars in history.

Once Jaquez moved to South Africa, he found peace after the war. He sat inside the front foyer watching TV as news coverage continued on how the Congo rebels were terrorizing the African people. His home was on the border of South Africa and Rhodesia, away from the hostile violence that was captivating the eastern world. Jaquez pondered to himself; in the back of his mind, something told him things were getting out of hand as one of the rebels was shown dragging a man by his shirt collar toward an army jeep, and then the TV set went blank. Apparently, the camera shooter had filmed a little too much.

Them come on my property. I swear, mon, I’ll kill them bomi clots.

Raphael! Jaquez shouted through the house calling for his son Raphael. Jaquez felt a strange feeling come across his body. Raphael! Jaquez screamed again. Raphael suddenly emerged out of nowhere and made his way over to his father’s recliner. Jaquez began speaking to Raphael just above a whisper so that his wife Vashti couldn’t hear what they were talking about, although Mrs. Von assumed she had an idea. She knew about the Congos and the things that were going on. Vashti had been keeping up with the news also and wanted to ask Jaquez about the dangerous Congos but somehow avoided it because Jaquez never brought it up.

However, Vashti had been wearing a worried look on her face for the last few days. She prayed that the Congos would not bother her family, and hopefully, they could continue to live in peace. Jaquez continued to think to himself after talking to Raphael. He thought about how South Africa had become health to his bones. The rich soil and minerals, unlike those in Haiti, had helped him out a lot. South Africa was now his home. He had found a beautiful wife in Vashti. She was a very humble, loving woman who respected what he’d done for her and their son. Vashti cared for him like a real woman was supposed to. She believed strongly in family principles and loyalty. Her appearance reminded many of Mary Terrell with her lovely facial features.

Vashti had round soft cheeks. Her eyes held a sparkling glow that proved she definitely was a woman of peace. Her honey brown skin was smooth as butter, and Vashti mostly always kept a colorful African scarf covering her rich, smooth, silky black hair. She kept watch over all the house duties, while Jaquez and Raphael made sure food was provided for them. Vashti worked extremely hard around the house. However, her appearance remained gracefully the same.

Her son Raphael was now a young man and considered by his father Jaquez’s black prince, being that Raphael was his first and only child. Jaquez loved Raphael to death. Once Raphael was old enough, Jaquez immediately taught him various combat skills. He learned how to use weapons such as the machete, AK 47 assault rifle, and handguns.

Raphael and Jaquez were the spit and image of one another. They shared identical facial features and most of the same characteristics. However, Raphael slightly outgrew Jaquez by about three or four inches. Raphael’s hair texture was silky black, more like his mother’s, while Jaquez’s was rugged.

When Jaquez came to Africa, he got himself a solid gold tooth to replace the missing tooth he had in the front of his mouth, which he lost in the war after a Dutchman struck him in the face with a blunt object. It was the only noticeable thing about Jaquez that differed from his son Raphael. Mostly everything else was identical. They both spoke deep African accents and stood a little over six feet and carried around one hundred eighty pounds of ego that spoke volumes if you pressed the wrong button.

Jaquez raised Raphael in a military manner, teaching his son things normal kids Raphael’s age couldn’t imagine. Never fear death, Jaquez ordered as Raphael looked into his father’s eyes that day and knew his father meant every word he had just said. Jaquez’s eyes penetrated Raphael’s soul, leaving him no other option but to remove the fear of death completely out of his life and live each day like it was his last.

Every man has to die one day, Raphael. You won’t be able to live forever, Jaquez said, hoping his words stayed with his son for the rest of his life. Jaquez wanted Raphael to become a brave warrior, so he knew he had to instill the same qualities that were in him in Raphael along the way.

CHAPTER 3

STANDOFF

Raphael and Jaquez were out front practicing combat skills in the front yard when two Congo military trucks were making their way toward their house along the trail that led to the street. Jaquez immediately spotted both trucks and then grabbed Raphael by the shoulder.

Come on, Raphie! Jaquez shouted. The rebels witnessed both men scramble onto the porch and then disappear into the house. Jaquez could hear the men screaming some kind of loud chant as they made their way down the trail, obviously something derogatory or either a war chant.

Mrs. Vashti immediately recognized that something was wrong when both Jaquez and Raphael came running into the house. Fear overtook her, and she began to panic. She dropped the wooden spoon on the floor that was in her hand and then started to tremble uncontrollably as she caught a glimpse of Raphael who had disappeared toward his room, and Jaquez begin pacing back and forth seemingly without purpose.

Vashti didn’t have a clue of what was going on or how to react to whatever it was. She had witnessed on TV how ruthless the guerrillas were and knew if this was the reason Jaquez and Raphael stormed into the house, then obviously, they had come to take them away. She couldn’t believe it. She had witnessed their acts on TV, but never did she think it would come to her doorstep. The Congos had no compassion at all. Vashti knew then that this was a life-or-death situation, or maybe they would be taken captive.

Go into the bedroom, Jaquez screamed at her. Vashti’s legs felt like concrete. She was stuck. Go now, go! Jaquez roared at her again, this time louder with bloodshot eyes and veins bulging out the side of his neck. Vashti finally found her legs and then hurried to their bedroom. Jaquez began mumbling words to himself underneath his breath in a Haitian accent. His eyes were surveying the room as if he was looking for something. Finally, his feet carried him to his AK 47 assault rifle. He started unwrapping the leopard skin off of it immediately.

Meanwhile, Raphael came quickly into the foyer where Jaquez stood removing the animal skin from his weapon. They both began to check their weapons, making sure they were locked and loaded. The two trucks came to a halt directly in front of their house. The rebels were dressed in tan and green uniforms. Each one wore a round military-styled hat covering his head, and the leader had some kind of metal stick in his hand with a military pistol attached to his hip. Jaquez eyed them closely through the curtains and waited patiently to see what their next move would be. He noticed the leader’s service radio clipped to the other side of his hip as he barked orders to some of them. Jaquez continued to listen attentively and then watched some of them crouched down and begin walking toward the back of the house. He heard their leader’s orders clear this time: Make sure no one gets away. Then Jaquez mumbled under his own breath as he continued to hold the curtain open slightly with one hand and his AK 47 in the other.

Raphael stood motionless waiting to see what Jaquez wanted to do, his assault rifle resting in his hand as well. Jaquez quickly closed the curtain and then walked over to Raphael. He got so extremely close to Raphael he could feel Jaquez breathing on his skin. Their eyes locked.

If we die, we die with honor, you hear me? Jaquez asked. Raphael nodded his head in agreement. Go protect the back. Make sure no one gets in, all right? Jaquez said. Raphael quickly made his way through the house and then positioned himself by the kitchen area where Vashti had minutes ago abandoned. He was just outside the threshold holding his assault rifle.

The Congo leader shouted through a large bull horn while simultaneously holding the military jeep’s door open, demanding them to come out and surrender. He gave the rebels orders to take everybody alive and not to kill anyone just before they headed to the back of the house. He had no clue whatsoever that Jaquez had two AK 47 assault rifles inside the house and that there would be no surrendering. Jaquez knew how ruthless the Congos were, and now the Congos were about to see how ruthless he and Raphael were.

When Jaquez migrated to Africa, he decided to bring his two assault rifles, a .45 caliber military pistol (Luger), machete, and two hunting blades. African men all throughout South Africa were summoned by the Congos and then ordered to line up in a crowd where they turned over their firearms. The rebels had military trucks on post as they collected and then loaded the beds of two trucks with various firearms. Thousands of weapons were freely given to the Congos. Assault rifles, pistols, and machetes all were turned over. However, needless to say, Jaquez had no intentions whatsoever in turning over his weapons. He had to protect his family by all means necessary and right now! His decision to do so was starting to pay dividends.

Raphael remained by the threshold about eight feet away from the window. His father Jaquez’s voice was running through his mind, instructing him, Keep good posture and hold it with both hands, you ere? His father’s military instructions came to him just in time as one of the Congo guerrillas were trying to ease his way through the window like a snake crawling on his belly quietly through the desert. Raphael waited just until the man got his torso between the window and window seal; before the Congo rebel could summersault himself over the sink, bullets started flying.

Raphael had stepped around the threshold and then sprayed rounds through the rebel’s spine breaking bones. The high-powered assault rifle’s bullets busted through the man’s stomach as he howled in pain and then collapsed on the kitchen floor with his back blown out. Raphael’s shots alerted the killers, causing them to recklessly retreat his shots, and also scared the hell out of the Congo leader who assumed the shots were aimed at him. He immediately dropped the bullhorn, and his military hat flew off his head as he desperately found cover behind the truck’s door and then drew his pistol, checking it to make sure everything still worked. All the rebels who were behind their fallen comrade also immediately scrambled for cover behind trees. They began shouting something in the African language. One of them continued to shout as if he was alerting the rest of them that one of the men was indeed armed and to get back! Jaquez then started spraying bullets through the front window from inside the living room foyer, keeping several Congos pinned down behind their military trucks.

Meanwhile, Vashti cradled herself up in a fetal position, shaking as tears rolled down her cheeks uncontrollably. She had managed to cram herself into the closet and then shut it back. It was the best she could do. However, she prayed Jaquez and Raphael didn’t lose their lives in the mist of the turmoil. Raphael stepped outside the back door and then darted behind a tree opposite his enemies as if he was playing hide then seek. Raphael was so fast the Congos didn’t get a glimpse of him. They were too occupied, whispering quietly among themselves behind one of the trees about thirty yards away plotting on a strategic attack. Then suddenly three of them darted toward another tree, attempting to move closer only to get blinded by a hail of Raphael’s gunfire. He simultaneously stepped from behind the tree opening fire with a menacing scowl on his face. He waved the assault rifle from side to side spraying lead. Bullets shattered knee caps and ripped through flesh. The rebels who were hit, howled in pain, and then fell. Raphael slid back behind the tree using it for cover. The remaining rebels patiently held their positions and waited for him to make one mistake.

Raphael then appeared from behind the tree. He dove and then rolled around on the ground switching his location from one tree to another. The Congos continued to hold their positions without firing. The target was displaying unbelievable military combat skills. This was actually Raphael’s first test where his life depended on it. He was being confronted with a life-or-death situation and Raphael seemed to have a lot of experience from the way he maneuvered, rolling around on the ground with such a large weapon wasn’t easy to do.

Meanwhile, Jaquez kept his adversaries at bay hoping they would back off and leave them the hell alone. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen. There was a machine gun attached to the rebel’s truck just above the spare tire around the bed. The leader began barking orders to one of his men over Jaquez’s gunfire in an African accent from behind the jeep’s door as bullets pelted against it. One of his rebels bravely climbed onto the bed of the truck and then grabbed the machine gun with both hands. He swung it around so that the barrel was pointed directly in the direction where Jaquez’s bullets were coming from and then started spraying a hail of bullets into the window.

Jaquez had moments ago changed his magazine to his assault rifle and was making his way back to his position when the flood of bullets slammed into his chest, ripping through his shirt. His body twisted around doing a full three hundred sixty degrees. The rebel continued to rain lead into the house. The shooter seemed to have no remorse with an evil scowl, covering his face. Flying debris and pieces of the house flew in all directions.

Raphael was firing his weapon simultaneously in the backyard at the time Jaquez was hit. The sound of the machine gun distracted Raphael as he took his eyes off the rebels who were trying to close in on him. Raphael’s world went blank when a bullet hit him in the face. The impact of the bullet knocked Raphael off his feet, throwing him into the heavy green foliage that surrounded their house. Seven acres of it covered their land which led to a river about ten miles from the border. Seven minutes later, the leader shouted something in an African accent, and the rebel removed his finger from the trigger.

That’s enough, that’s enough! he barked to the shooter.

CHAPTER 4

SMOKE

The rebels carefully rose to their feet still clutching their weapons. Let’s move, let’s move in, he repeated twice. They slowly walked up the steps cautiously and made their way through the front door immediately discovering Jaquez’s bullet-ridden body sprawled out on the floor contorted in a gruesome way. Their leader spit on Jaquez’s dead body. He spat with a menacing scowl of son of a bitch and then lifted his head, shouting, Where’s the other one?

The man looked around and continued, I heard those shots from the back of the house. Where is he? Tell me you didn’t let him get away.

One of the rebels reached down and grabbed Jaquez’s assault rifle that was lying beside him. They slowly continued to make their way through the house, kicking items around along the way. They then entered the kitchen area where their leader immediately discovered the rebel Raphael had cut down, his body sprawled out on the floor underneath a large puddle of blood. The leader shook his head from side to side, stopped, and continued to stare at his fallen soldier’s corpse.

The back door swung open just how Raphael had left it when he burst through it. They then walked toward the door looking off into the green foliage from the kitchen. The leader’s men suddenly appearing from nowhere met him and the others just as they exited the back door. The awful sight disturbed him.

Several Congos lay on their backs; their bodies were full of lead from Raphael’s AK 47. The group approached the leader with fear in their eyes. However, one warrior quickly began to notify him that Raphael was shot and killed. Each of them collectively began to describe how it happened and constantly repeated, In the feeace, in the feeace, as if they were letting their leader know one of their bullets caught Raphael in the face. They then led him over to the deep foliage and vines to show him. There was a cliff that dropped off about seven feet. His rebels pointed down into it, telling their leader that Raphael’s body must be somewhere down there. The foliage was so thick one could only assume without an actual body for verification that Raphael was dead.

Another rebel walked up to their leader telling him they were exchanging heavy gunfire with Raphael when all of a sudden Raphael heard the machine gun and then turned around. The rebel demonstrated by turning his body around as he continued to explain. Thee impact forced him backward, sir. He’s down there. I’m sure he’s dead, the Congo rebel said. The leader listened to each of his men talk with a blank expression on his face. He slowly walked over toward the cleft and then kneeled down on one knee looking hard into the dark green foliage that seemed to be about a seven-foot fall. He pondered on it for a minute, letting his thoughts settle inside of his head.

The foliage was so dark and thick he couldn’t tell for sure. He then spotted blood traces on some of the foliage beneath him. The rebels continued to talk over him while he examined the briers closely. He then rose to his feet with a blank stare on