Free Havoc - v4 by Jack du Brul

into the night. In all, one hundred and forty-eight well-armed guerillas had been massacred. The mysterious attackers had done what neither the Central African Republic’s army nor the UN had been able to do.
    When it was over Mercer stood on shaky legs. He’d hoped for this but the aftermath left him drained. Cali didn’t bother to stand. She lay back against her pole, her eyes shut.
    “You knew they were out there?” she finally asked.
    “I suspected.”
    “You weren’t going to tell me?”
    “I didn’t think you’d believe me.”
    “You’re right. I would have thought it was a lame attempt at being gallant, and I would have died thinking you were a misogynist jerk.”
    “And now?”
    She finally looked over. “Well, you’re not a misogynist.” And then she rewarded him with a tired smile.
    A few seconds later Mercer felt someone behind him. He stiffened before feeling a knife slice through the ropes securing his wrists. When he tried to turn to face his rescuer, strong hands clamped the sides of his head.
    “Do not turn around.” The voice was pitched low and expressionless, as if masking an accent. Keys rattled next to Mercer’s ear. “These were in Dayce’s pocket. The two men he sent to search for your vehicle have been dispatched. Take your woman and go. Never return here.” The man thrust the keys into Mercer’s hand along with two other items. “You dropped these.” It was the canteen and the necklace made from the bullet that the old woman had worn.
    “Who are you?”
    “That is not your concern. Go.”
    “But—”
    “You leave in five seconds or die in six. We give you this chance for our own reasons. Take your woman’s hand.” Cali was moved next to Mercer, her fingers locking with his, their palms tight. “Walk straight forward until you reach your truck, then drive to Rafai. Tell them Dayce is dead and then never come back to this area again.”
    As soon as the unseen man released Mercer’s skull, an accomplice racked the slide on a pistol to emphasize his point. Cali and Mercer needed no further urging. As if they were soldiers on parade, they marched in lockstep from the ruins of the village, bodies rigid, eyes straight ahead.
    Only after they’d made their way along the dike separating the mine from the riverbank and climbed up from the cut left by the RPG did Cali finally ask, “What the hell just happened back there? Who were those guys?”
    Mercer noted they were still holding hands. “I don’t know. That wasn’t another rebel faction. They fought like commandos and the guy who spoke sounded white, although not American.”
    “Could they have been UN?”
    “If they were, why not let us go with them? No, this is something else. That warning about not returning to the area. They were here to protect something and I don’t think it’s coincidence that they got here the same day as Caribe Dayce.”
    “Or us for that matter. Do you think they were here all along, keeping watch over the village?”
    Mercer thought it over. It was possible, with one glaring exception. “If they were here to protect the village, why allow Dayce to slaughter everyone and rape the few that survived? It’s something else.”
    “The old mine?”
    “I can’t think of anything else.”
    “But why?”
    “That’s something I plan on finding out.”
    “Well, this is kind of out of both our purviews.”
    “Not mine,” Mercer answered.
    She glanced over, startled by the mettle in his voice. “How so?”
    There was never any easy way for Mercer to explain his part-time position with the government without sounding like he was boasting. He usually just told it straight. “Two years ago I was hired as a consultant to the President of the United States. My title is special science advisor. Because my work, like yours, takes me to some pretty hostile places, I act as an intelligence gatherer for anything that could threaten the United States.”
    “You’re a spy?”
    “No, not like