The military truck sways through the night. In the back, nine other soldiers and I share a cramped bench. We are tossed around like rag dolls in every steep bend and I can't count the times my neighbor's elbow pokes me in the ribs. Taking a long drag from my cigarette, I stare at Felipe sitting across from me.

"I proposed to Rosanna."

His jaw drops. "Fuck. Why?"

"She might be pregnant."

"Mano, that's crazy. And what do you mean by might?"

"Well, it's not confirmed, but chances are she is." My gaze lingers on Juana sitting at the end of the row. Just hours ago, following her advice sounded like a good idea. Now, I'm not sure anymore. I should've made sure Rosanna is pregnant before popping the question.

"What did Pearson say?"

I focus back on Felipe and take another long drag. "He doesn't know yet. Rosanna thinks we should wait for the right opportunity."

"Hell, there'll never be a right opportunity. He will totally freak."

"I'm sure he'll get over it."

"Yeah, after he kills you." He snorts. "At least now, you don't have to worry about contraception for a while. You can't knock her up twice."

I click my tongue. "That's stupid. I'm not even sure pregnant women are supposed to have sex. What if it harms the baby?"

"I don't think it's a problem until later on." His gaze flicks to Juana. "You should ask Juana, just to make sure."

"And how would she know?"

"She's a girl. They all know about stuff like that."

He has a point. Plus I barely know any other girls. Except for Juana who only got the gig because of her father, Malaguay doesn't accept female soldiers. Women at the compound are limited to kitchen help and cleaning staff; I don't even know the names of most of them.

When the truck rolls to a stop at the end of the five-vehicle convoy, I stomp out the cigarette with the heel of my boot. Jumping off the bed of the truck last, I gather around Jorge Gomez with the other troop leaders.

"Okay, guys, the settlement is a mile inland. The attack will commence at exactly zero hours. It's now"—the green light from his tactical watch briefly illuminates his face—"twenty-three hours twenty-eight minutes. Synchronize your watches on my command."

I set my own watch to twenty-nine minutes past eleven and hold the pin until his "now" gives the go-ahead.

Jorge gazes from face to face. "Okay, Emmanuel and Martin, your teams are with mine. We'll set up the explosives directly across the opening of the main cave. They will go off first to draw those bastards out. Once we've neutralized the hostiles, your teams will sweep the caves for Alejandro. Clear so far?"

Emmanuel and Martin both nod.

Jorge's attention shifts to me. "Your team will place the explosives around the clearing and inside the caves. As soon as we engage in hostile fire, part of your team will be securing the perimeter around the clearing to ensure no one escapes. Once the sweep of the tunnels is complete, I'll set off the explosives inside the caves by remote control to trap everyone who hid from us during the sweep."

I nod. The plan has been discussed about a hundred times and I got it the first time.

Jorge turns to the final team leader. "Hugo, you and your men will patrol the outer perimeters to ensure we don't have unexpected visitors who could fall us in the back."

Hugo acknowledges his assignment with a "roger that, sir."

Jorge scans the faces around him. "Okay, night goggles only and radio silence until after we light up the place. Let's get Alejandro home. Good hunting, soldiers."

We disperse and I gather my team around me for a quick status. The explosives weigh heavy in my backpack and we don't have time to waste. The hike will take about fifteen minutes in full gear, which will only give us another fifteen to set up the fireworks.

After another sync of our watches, I give my final instructions. "There'll be total radio silence. Stay together until we hit the settlement and then deposit your loads as previously instructed. Teniente Conde will be my number two, and she, Ricardo, and Dante will deposit the final explosives in the main cave as soon as the sweep begins. Felipe and I have got the outer caves."

None of the guys even raise a brow at having a woman as second in command. Juana has earned her stripes and only newbies still mock her on rare occasions. That is until she shuts them up. My jaw still hurts whenever I remember her fist crushing into me after I called her a crybaby in my first week of basic training.

We scurry through the night. The goggles coat the bushes and trees in a green light and sharpen their silhouettes. We are now deep inside rebel territory. I scouted out our destination about a year ago and the hidden clearing is surrounded by thick underbrush. I even took up camp in one of the caves for the night that now offers shelter to the rebel soldiers. The constant moving from campsite to campsite after only a few days has proven most effective for the rebel army to avoid detection by our troops. A nomadic life without any roots to fight for a government that wouldn't be much different from that of President Rizo's. It's lunacy. No matter who is in charge, the poor will always be poor while the leading families gain more wealth and power with every regime change.

When twigs shake and crack just ahead of me, I hold my hand up. Signaling Juana to stay off to my right, I round the bush on the left side. I peek through the leaves and catch a glimpse of a rebel's ass crack. Although the goggles don't catch the full extent of the action, I can fill in the blanks.

Pulling out my knife, I focus on what I have to do.

Make it quick and silent.

He's a big guy, but the squatting position gives him a distinct disadvantage. I edge forward to squeezes through a few branches just wide enough for passage. When my foot wedges in the undergrowth, a twig snaps.

The crack is like a whip in the stillness. The man snaps his head around; for a split second, our eyes lock. He reaches for his rifle, but by the time his fingertips graze the shaft, I've already dived forward. The tip of my knife rams into the side of his throat, allowing for nothing but a low gurgle. A few seconds of jerking muscles and it's all over.

Staring at the dead man at my feet, I keep the bile at bay. I don't have time to contemplate the deeper meaning of killing. This is combat. I had to do what I had to do.

Turning to my men, I give the signal to push forward. We can't be more than a few hundred yards out. Backs bent with squared shoulders, we fight our way through the underbrush, careful to keep noise to a minimum. More guards could be patrolling the perimeter and we can't afford to alert them. The benefit of surprise is key to the mission.

Just as I reach the edge of the woods, a figure appears out of nowhere. We collide and I'm tossed on my ass, the impact knocking off my goggles. I stare into the barrel of a gun. For a beat, time freezes. Then the blade of a knife buries itself into the man's throat. As he collapses, I look up to meet Juana's gaze. Her hand is still raised from the throw.

The man face-plants on the forest ground. Juana walks up and pulls out her knife, cleaning the blade on his shirt. If the kill bothers her, she doesn't show it. I signal to the rest of the team that it's time to disperse.

Felipe and I run alongside the tree line that gives us coverage until we reach the edge of the caves. I point two fingers in a silent order for him to keep a lookout. Confirming that the front section of the first cave is empty, I duck to enter. I gaze around for a spot to deposit the load and go for a small hollow over the low entrance. As I push the button on the top that connects the explosive with the remote detonator, I place the pack on the smooth rock with utmost care.

For a breath, I'm tempted to move further into the net of tunnels that connects the caves. It had been my strategy during initial planning—surprise the enemy in their nest to eliminate them—but in the end, Jorge's idea to flush them out with a distraction was adopted. I still think it's a mistake. Exits on the other side of the mountains could open up an escape route for the rebels, an objection Jorge had called too remote of a possibility to take it seriously. Ultimately, General Varela and Coronel Zambrano decided to give him some leeway; yet the general made it clear that Jorge's plan better produce results, or there will be consequences.

I push my night goggles up to check my watch. Five more minutes until the attack. After the gunfire starts, Felipe and I are to deposit the rest of our explosives. I pull out my cigarette pack to calm the trembles in my body. Smoking is out of the question, but the scent of tobacco alone is enough of a relief. The wait before an imminent attack is always unnerving until the adrenaline kicks in.

I'm about to rejoin Felipe outside when my ears pick up the sound of falling gravel drifting from the tunnel. Knife ready for an attack, I move over to the tunnel's mouth. The scraping and crunching are getting closer. Someone is coming. I hold my breath, my knife raised at an angle to ram the blade right into the side of a rebel's throat. The beam of a flashlight precedes his footsteps. Peeking around a slab of rocks, I measure the distance as he approaches. When the light briefly illuminates his face, I lower the knife.

What the actual fuck?

The second he steps inside the cave, my hand covers his mouth and I pull him against my body to restrict his movements. "Not a sound."

He stills.

I lower my hand. "What the hell are you doing here, Mateo?"

Before he has a chance to reply, an explosion breaks through the night.

"Tomás, come on. Let's go." Felipe's ducked frame appears in the entrance of the cave.

I have just enough time to shove Mateo back into the tunnel and block him from view with my body. Felipe glances around the cave. That was a close call, even though I have no idea how to get my brother out of here without putting him into peril. If he runs blindly into the forest and turns the wrong way, he could be blown to pieces by an exploding load or captured by one of our troops. His presence will be hard to explain; hell, Jorge might even declare him a rebel and shoot him. Yet turning around and going back the way he came will put him into the active battle zone once our soldiers sweep the caves for Alejandro.

Felipe squints at me, probably wondering why I haven't moved an inch. Rattling machine guns save the day. He spins on his heel, his rifle ready to fire as he steps back out into the darkness.

I turn around to face Mateo. "Wait a couple of minutes until Felipe and I have moved to the next cave and then turn left as you leave the area. Stick to the northern side of the forest."

"Why can't I just wait here?"

"Because this whole place will blow up."

Having no more time to explain without raising Felipe's suspicion, I bend my head to leave the cave with my rifle in a firing position. Just as planned, the center of the battle is on the other side of the clearing, right next to the entrance to the biggest cave. Felipe and I work our way toward the hot zone, entering the smaller caves to deposit the explosives. Heavy smoke hangs in the air as machine gun fire rattles through the night.

After the shooting finally dies down, the radio cackles. "Moving out in fifteen."

"Roger that." Depositing the final load, I glance around. Hopefully, Mateo got away in the commotion. What the hell was he even doing here? He'll have a lot of explaining to do.

For a moment, panic prickles in my spine as I imagine his torn-up body. Usually, he isn't one who puts himself in harm's way without a good reason.

Díos mío.

I don't know what I'd do if something happened to him tonight.

When I step back into the clearing, half a dozen rebels are on their knees in the middle of it. Jorge is ramming his elbow into the temple of the only officer.

"Where is the prisoner?"

The guy smirks without making a sound. I gaze at the spread of dead bodies. A few of our guys didn't make it, but the enemy suffered the majority of the casualties. They are all young—child soldiers—bred for battle and sacrifice. They were sent out here while their comrades escaped, just like I predicted. Otherwise, we would see more than one officer.

"Forget it, Jorge. The rebel leaders are gone and took Alejandro with them."

Jorge squints at me. "And what makes you say that?"

"Look around. Except for him, everyone is a cadet. He only has one stripe. They were sent out here as a distraction to give the others time to escape."

As the truth sinks in, Jorge's face twists with anger. His plan failed; something he'll have to explain to General Varela.

Yet he isn't ready to admit defeat. "Search the caves again. Alejandro has to be here."

When the soldiers swarm out, I roll my eyes. The longer he waits to detonate the bombs in the caves, the longer the rebels have to escape. Hell, if they have another camp nearby, they might even be able to assemble a new troop to attack us.

After what seems an eternity, Jorge's second in command reappears and salutes. "Nothing, Capitán."

"Check again."

I shake my head. Is he stupid? "We have to move out, Jorge."

Juana comes to my aid. "I'm with Tomás. It's over, Jorge."

All eyes are on him; it's ultimately his decision. Although we technically hold the same rank, he's already considered a high-ranking officer and his orders supersede mine. I'm not part of the club—not yet anyway. This might change after tonight since he royally screwed up.

He lets out a heavy breath. "All right, let's move out."

"What about the prisoners?" one of his men asks.

"Shoot them."

"And the officer?"

Jorge spits on the ground. "Him too. They wouldn't have sent him out here if he was of any use."

Turning my back, I call my team together. Single shots break through the night. It makes me sick, but Santino's government doesn't take prisoners who don't have apparent value. Luckily, I was never forced to pull the trigger. We might fight on opposite sides, but ultimately, we all fight for Malaguay. It's the puzzling truth of civil war that I've never come to terms with.

~~~~~

© Sal Mason 2018

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