Stepbrother Unsealed(74)
I can't leave her there.
Tommy, Brandon, and several other guys plow forward on my command, hurling their charges inside the bunker and clearing anything inside. We move fast. It takes less than ten minutes to break into the control room and wire the whole place up.
There's still gunfire and blasts happening outside, shaking the concrete walls like a tornado, but it seems to be tapering off. I run my hand over my face while the commander does the final checks.
We might actually make it out of this alive, as long as we can beat their reinforcements, undoubtedly streaming in from all directions by now.
We'll find out later if the mission was a success, if it hasn't triggered a wider war. Seoul and a hundred other cities across the peninsula might be burning up right now, and the DMZ could be a total wreck, but we've done our jobs here.
“Coordinates?” I hear the commander bark into his field piece. “Roger. We'll be there in four minutes.”
All the guys inwardly sigh with relief when we see our officer waving us out. The coast is clear. We just have to get to the center of the base where the other teams are working like dogs to clear a landing site for the choppers, and then we'll be on our way.
The commander lights a cigarette and watches intently as we all work to help the other team sweep up the debris. The rain picks up, and so does the wind. It's hard to hear the choppers over the storm.
Not 'til they're right on top of us.#p#分页标题#e#
Huge, whirling helicopters descend at last. Men pile on the first helicopter as soon as it hits the ground. It takes off without a hitch. The commander and I are the last ones to board number two with our team, and soon we're soaring.
I can't fucking believe it. I let myself think about Delia again, and I clasp my knees as the realization sets in that we're all in one piece.
It's a good thing I do because half a second later, I'm upside down. There's a noise like shearing metal, and I see the Commander suspended in the air, the last of his cigarette dropping out of his mouth like a cartoon character whose jaw is about to hit the ground.
But there's nothing funny about this. There's a terrible sound a thousand times louder than a car accident, and everything goes black.
When I wake up, my head hurts like a motherfucker. There's a bright, brutal light; too warm and too close to be the sun. I can't figure out what it is 'til I hear the strange, cold voice.
“Cleveland? You are conscious, yes?”
I open my eyes, thinking I'm in a military hospital.
No, that isn't right.
No US field hospital ever looked this shitty, with cracks in the walls and rusted out furniture. I try to move, and something jerks against my hands. It's the same with my feet, totally pinned down to the old chair.
There's a sharp dressed Korean man with spectacles in front of me, red stars on his uniform, and the icy stare on his gaunt face they all seem to have.
“You've been taken prisoner as an imperialist intruder in the peace-loving Democratic People's Republic of Korea. You will tell us everything about what happened before the crash. Do you understand?”
His monotonous, awkward English fades out. All I can hear are my own thoughts pounding in my head, over and over, a mantra that kicks off the savage torture I'm about to face.
Delia, forgive me.
XIII: Alone (Delia)
24 Hours Earlier
“Dad...” I lick my lips and swallow, clenching my hands neatly in my lap, staring at the madman across the kitchen table. “Before you say anything, I need you to know this was never meant to be malicious. I don't know what she's been telling you, but –“
“Cut the shit.” His hand moves through the air like a knife, and I'm instantly silenced. “Evie didn't have to say anything. I saw it all, the way you were tangled with him, defiling our home. Jesus Christ, Cordelia.”
Dad's face softens, but only because he's so disgusted. He can barely bring himself to say it. I watch him spread his hands on our big table, and they're shaking, overwhelmed by the memory of what he saw on the screen.
My eyes burn when I look at him. I cross my arms, angry, vowing that I won't apologize. I don't care how hard he hits me with those puppy dog eyes.
“I'm trying to understand,” dad says softly, running another clammy hand across his face. “What the hell drove you to this? You're a beautiful college girl in your prime, honey. You could've had any boy on campus. Why Chris? He's strong, he's ballsy, and I get that. But I also know he's a complete bastard, and he can't be any better with his women.”
Dad's anger matches mine. I can't help but soften because he's hurt, thinking Chris really did shred my honor or something ridiculous. I don't blame him, but he doesn't get it.