Chapter 12
1997words
The night was the best cover. The abandoned pipelines and rusted tanks of the refinery cast intricate shadows under the moonlight, forming a labyrinth of steel.
Leo moved like a ghost, silently navigating through this death zone. He no longer wore any identifying marks of rank, carrying only a rifle, a handgun, and a heart burning hot with rage and fear.
He was no longer Captain Apollo; he was just a man seeking to reclaim what he loved.
The gunshot rang out without warning, the bullet grazing his cheek and sparking against the steel plate behind him. An ambush. Argus's men emerged from every corner, their dense gunfire weaving a deadly web.
Leo rolled on the ground, taking cover in the shadow of a container, his breathing heavy and hot. He didn't call for backup because there was no one behind him. Nor did he show any sign of retreat, because he had nowhere to retreat to.
He leaned out, fired in bursts, and pulled back, his movements quick as lightning. Each gunshot was accompanied by a dull thud of someone falling in the distance. Like an enraged lone wolf, he used the most primitive instincts and the most elite combat skills to conduct a reverse hunt in this hunting ground belonging to his enemies.
Just as he was pinned down in a dead corner by suppressive fire, almost running out of ammunition, several precise and deadly "flowers" suddenly bloomed from the shadows on his flank. Several enemies who had been frantically firing at Leo fell silently with bullets in the back of their heads, almost simultaneously.
Leo was stunned for a moment before understanding what happened. He switched to the backup communication channel and said in a low voice: "You shouldn't have come."
"Shut up, boss." Mark's voice came through the earpiece with a hint of teasing, "This cool job of charging into the dragon's den alone, we can't let you do it by yourself. Meet at the pump house at your ten o'clock in five minutes. We'll clear a path for you from the flank."
This is the Navy SEALs, a group of brothers who can entrust their backs to each other. What do orders matter? In the face of a brother's life, those rules written on paper are worthless.
A warm current welled up in Leo's heart, but he had no time for sentiments. He checked his last magazine, took a deep breath, and rushed out from behind cover. With the covering fire from his comrades, he was like a red-hot blade, cutting through layers of obstacles, directly penetrating into the heart of the refinery.
He kicked open the iron door of the pump room. The scene inside made his heart stop.
I was tied to an iron chair, wrapped in electrical wires and tube-shaped explosives, with a red digital countdown timer flashing a glaring light on my chest: 10:00. And Argus, the man he once considered a brother, was laughing maniacally, pressing a handgun against my temple.
"Welcome to the party, my old captain," Argus's eyes were filled with twisted pleasure, "Surprised? I've prepared the grand finale for you."
"Argus! Let her go! I'm the one you want!" Leo's gun was pointed steadily at Argus, his voice hoarse with extreme anger.
"Of course it's you. But killing you would be too easy." Argus's smile grew more ferocious, "I want you to watch, watch everything you care about turn to ashes.
Just like back then, when you watched me being 'abandoned'. Now, put down your gun, walk over slowly, let's play a game. While you're disarming the bomb, I'll chat with you about the past."
Chloe's face was covered in tears, but she looked at Leo, desperately shaking her head, her eyes full of pleading for him not to come over. Leo's heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand. He could clearly hear his own heart pounding like a drum, along with the deadly "tick-tock" of the bomb timer.
He slowly placed his rifle on the ground, raised both hands, and walked step by step toward the greatest nightmare of his life. Each step felt like treading on knife edges.
He walked up to Chloe, crouched down, and his gaze quickly scanned the complex wiring. This was a military-grade hybrid booby-trapped bomb, with intricate circuitry where any wrong attempt would detonate it.
"Remember that mission in Brazil? We were trapped in the slums, surrounded by more than a hundred people." Argus's voice sounded in his ear, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue. "You said we never leave a brother behind. But what did you do later? For the sake of that damned 'political impact,' you left me on the blacklist! I've been hiding like a dog, while you became a Hero!"
"That's because you massacred civilians! You violated the rules of engagement!" Leo's hands were quickly operating the bomb disposal tools, with beads of sweat dropping one by one onto the bomb's casing. Countdown: 05:30.
"Rules? Rules are made for hypocrites like you!" Argus became emotional, pressing the gun more firmly against Chloe's temple, "The only rule in this world is survival of the fittest! You ruined my life, so I'm going to ruin yours!"
Time was ticking away second by second, Leo's brain was working at high speed, cold sweat soaking his back. He found the main detonator wire, but it was connected to a pressure sensor - once cut, the secondary detonation device beside it would activate.
He needed Chloe's cooperation, a window of only a fraction of a second.
He looked up, gazing deeply into my eyes. Without words, but I instantly understood his meaning. Fear flashed in my eyes, but was quickly replaced by determination.
I knew I was Leo's only weakness. As long as I remained a hostage, Leo would never be able to fight with all he had.
Countdown: 01:00.
"Leo..." My voice was tearful yet unusually firm. "Take the shot."
"What did you say?" Leo froze, unable to believe his ears.
"I said take the shot!" I shouted with all my might. "Shut him up! I'd rather die than watch him torture you like this any longer! Have you forgotten what you said? You're a Navy SEAL! You're 'Apo-'"
In that instant, I suddenly jerked my head backward while letting my body fall sideways. Argus instinctively pulled the trigger. The bullet grazed my cheek and hit the iron chair behind me, but because of this movement, my shoulder slammed into a protruding pipe nearby. I let out a muffled groan of pain as I slid off the chair onto the floor.
Now!
The moment I fell to the ground, Argus's body was completely exposed to Leo's gun. That shield made from his lover disappeared. A flash of grief passed through Leo's eyes, but there was no hesitation in his movement. He didn't even aim, raising his hand by muscle memory.
He closed his eyes.
Flashing through his mind were memories of Argus smiling as he shared his last bottle of water in boot camp; of Argus carrying him on his back for ten kilometers through an Afghan valley when he was wounded; of them fighting side by side, countless moments when they entrusted their backs to each other.
Then, he pulled the trigger.
The gunshot echoed in the sealed room, deafening.
It was all over. Argus had a bloody hole in the center of his forehead, the madness and hatred still frozen on his face as his body slowly fell backward, crashing heavily to the ground. The numbers on the timer stopped forever at 00:07.
Leo opened his eyes to a world of deathly silence. He stared at Argus lying in a pool of blood—once his brother, now just a body growing cold. There was no joy of victory, only a bone-deep numbness and exhaustion. He had killed his own past with his own hands.
He rushed over, cut the last wire, clumsily untied the ropes binding Chloe, and held her tightly in his arms. Chloe's shoulder was bleeding, but she laughed through her tears. Mark and the team members burst in, witnessing this scene of survival after catastrophe—tragic yet tender.
The mission in Hadram had come to an end in a brutal manner.
Back in America, the air in New York was humid and noisy, completely different from the dry heat of Hadram. The glass facades of skyscrapers reflected the gray sky, the streets bustled with traffic, and people hurried along. War seemed like a story from another world.
I returned to my familiar hospital and put on my white coat again. The emergency room was still busy, with the groans of various patients and the cries of family members rising and falling.
But after experiencing everything in Hadram, these scenes that once made me anxious now gave me a surreal sense of calm. My technique in treating wounds became increasingly steady, and when facing hysterical patients' families, my gaze now held more insight and compassion.
Eva also returned to her small apartment and began living a shameless cohabitation life with Mark. In her words, having survived a catastrophe, every minute and second should be spent enjoying life and love.
As for Leo, he was caught in an endless internal investigation. He was temporarily suspended, and every day he had to go to the military court office to repeat his "unauthorized actions" in Hadram to those expressionless investigators over and over again.
They asked him why he tore off his armband, why he disobeyed orders, why he went to save a "non-strategic value target."
Leo just silently stated the facts, without justification or regret. The moment he tore off his armband, he was already prepared to bear all consequences.
During breaks in the investigation, he would date Chloe like any ordinary couple. They would walk in Central Park, queue up to buy popular hot dogs, and watch a noisy musical on Broadway.
Chloe would hold onto his arm, chattering away sharing hospital gossip with him, while Leo would listen quietly with a faint smile on his lips.
However, beneath the peaceful appearance were wounds that could not heal.
One evening, they were eating at an outdoor restaurant. A car had a blowout at a nearby intersection, making a loud bang.
"Bang!"
At the moment the loud noise came, Leo's body reacted instinctively. He pushed Chloe down under the dining table and moved to draw... but his waist was empty. The gun that had accompanied him for over ten years had long been confiscated.
His eyes instantly became extremely vigilant and sharp, like a cheetah ready to pounce at any moment, his muscles tensed as he scanned every suspicious person around.
"Leo, don't be afraid, it's just a tire blowout," Chloe reassured him softly, firmly gripping his cold and trembling hand under the table.
The surrounding diners cast astonished glances, some whispering among themselves. Leo's rigid body gradually relaxed. Looking at Chloe's concerned eyes, the sharpness and killing intent in his eyes slowly faded away, replaced by deep exhaustion and bewilderment.
He helped Chloe stand up, ignoring the glances cast in their direction.
The war was over, but what the war left behind was like a haunting ghost that clung to his bones, forever etched into his soul. He could take off his uniform and return to this bustling city, but he could never truly go back.
That pure captain "Apollo" who only knew how to follow orders and protect his country, had already died on that night in Hadram, along with Argus.
Chloe said nothing, only took a napkin from the table and gently wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. She knew he needed time. And she would stay by his side.
Leo looked at her, this woman who was willing to take a bullet for him, willing to pull him back from the edge of hell. He gripped her hand tightly in his.
"Let's go home," he said.
