Chapter 17 - When Jack Mason Finally Broke
Rusk retaliated three nights later.
The squad was moving ammunition between positions when German commandos struck from the woods.
The attack was fast.
Too precise.
A grenade disabled the lead truck.
Gunfire cut off the rear.
Smoke filled the road.
Eli remembered almost nothing between Jack shouting his name and waking with his hands tied.
He was inside a cellar.
Stone walls.
Single lantern.
Blood in his mouth.
Jack sat across from him, wrists bound behind a chair.
Frank and Tommy were gone.
Rusk stood between them.
“You’re difficult to kill, Carter.”
Eli raised his head.
“You’re difficult to arrest.”
Rusk smiled.
“Still clever.”
He wore no insignia now.
No country.
No loyalty.
Just the eagle ring.
Eli looked at Jack.
Jack’s left eye was swollen.
“What happened?”
Jack said, “I insulted his mother.”
Rusk struck him across the face.
Jack spat blood.
“See?”
Eli’s voice hardened.
“Leave him alone.”
Rusk turned.
“There he is.”
“Who?”
“The legend.”
Rusk crouched.
“You know, when I first read your file, I expected someone larger.”
Eli smiled faintly.
“You and everyone else.”
Rusk grabbed his injured ribs and squeezed.
Pain tore through Eli.
He refused to scream.
Rusk leaned close.
“Where is Warren moving headquarters?”
“I don’t know.”
Another squeeze.
“Where?”
“Paris.”
Rusk laughed.
“Wrong answer.”
He drove a fist into Eli’s abdomen.
Eli folded against the ropes.
Jack surged against his chair.
“You touch him again—”
Rusk turned.
“What?”
Jack strained so hard the chair creaked.
Rusk walked over.
“You used to beat him yourself.”
Jack went still.
Rusk smiled.
“Yes. I read disciplinary reports too.”
Eli looked at Jack.
Rusk continued.
“You kicked him while he was down. Broke open old wounds. Called him weak.”
Jack’s face changed.
“Shut up.”
“Why? Embarrassed?”
Rusk punched Jack in the ribs.
Jack grunted.
“You and I aren’t so different.”
Jack looked up.
“You’re wrong.”
“Are we?”
“Yes.”
Rusk hit him again.
Jack rocked sideways.
“You hurt weaker men because it made you feel strong.”
Rusk struck him a third time.
“And you didn’t?”
Jack laughed through blood.
“I did.”
Eli stared at him.
Jack continued.
“I was a coward.”
Rusk’s smile faded.
“I thought hurting Eli made me bigger.”
He looked at Eli.
“It made me smaller.”
Rusk punched him hard enough to topple the chair.
Jack hit the floor.
Rusk began kicking him.
Eli shouted, “STOP!”
The kicks continued.
Jack curled around his ribs.
Eli fought the ropes until they cut his wrists.
“RUSK!”
Rusk stopped.
Jack coughed.
Blood stained his teeth.
Rusk crouched beside him.
“Still think you’re different?”
Jack looked up.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I changed.”
Rusk’s expression became cold.
Jack whispered, “You still think cruelty is strength.”
Rusk kicked him once more and walked away.
Eli’s voice shook.
“Jack.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
“Okay. I’m extremely handsome but medically questionable.”
Eli almost laughed despite himself.
Rusk dragged Eli’s chair closer.
“Coordinates.”
“No.”
“You’ve seen what happens.”
“No.”
Rusk drew a knife.
He placed it against Eli’s cheek.
“I can spend hours proving how little your legend means.”
Jack began pulling at his ropes again.
Eli looked directly at Rusk.
“You already proved something.”
“What?”
“You’re afraid of me.”
Rusk laughed.
“Of you?”
“You know my file. You tracked my squad. You crossed half of Europe trying to kill men who exposed you.”
Rusk’s smile vanished.
Eli continued.
“You’re terrified somebody will remember what you really are.”
Rusk slapped him.
Eli tasted blood.
“Traitor,” Eli said.
Another blow.
“Coward.”
Rusk hit him again.
“Men like Collins died because of you.”
Rusk grabbed his throat.
Eli forced the words out.
“And they were better men than you.”
Rusk squeezed.
The cellar door opened.
A German guard spoke urgently.
Rusk released Eli.
Outside, gunfire sounded.
Jack lifted his head.
“Frank.”
Eli listened.
BAR fire.
Distinctive.
Then an explosion.
Tommy’s voice shouted somewhere outside.
Jack grinned.
“Wolves.”
Rusk drew his pistol and ran for the door.
Eli tipped his chair sideways.
It crashed against the stone floor.
Pain exploded through his shoulder.
But the impact broke one wooden arm.
Jack understood.
He rocked his own chair.
Again.
Again.
It splintered.
They tore at each other’s ropes.
Gunfire grew louder.
When Eli’s hands came free, he crawled to Jack.
“How bad?”
“Couple ribs.”
“You can walk?”
“I can murderously limp.”
“No murdering.”
Jack groaned.
“You ruin everything.”
They found a dead guard’s rifle on the stairs.
Outside, Frank fired from behind a truck.
Tommy was cutting loose two other prisoners.
Hale had arrived with reinforcements.
Rusk fled toward the woods.
Jack raised the rifle.
Eli pushed the barrel down.
“What are you doing?”
“He’s running!”
“Too far. Bad angle.”
“You could hit him.”
“Yes.”
“Then—”
Eli looked at him.
Jack stopped.
Rusk disappeared between trees.
Jack breathed hard.
Then lowered the rifle.
“Damn you.”
Eli put an arm around him.
“Come on.”
“Where?”
“Home.”
This time Jack let Eli carry some of his weight.
After the rescue, a medic examined Jack.
“Two cracked ribs. Maybe three.”
Jack looked at Eli.
“See? Handsome.”
The medic stared at him.
“Concussion too, probably.”
Frank laughed so hard he had to sit down.
Tommy handed Eli a cup of coffee.
“You look awful.”
“So does Jack.”
“Jack always looks awful.”
From the cot, Jack raised one finger.
“Mutiny.”
Hale entered.
His expression was stern until he saw all four alive.
Then it softened.
“You disobey one more order and I will personally send you all to Alaska.”
Frank said, “War’s not there.”
“I’ll start one.”
They laughed.
Later, when the others slept, Jack opened his eyes.
“Eli?”
“Yeah?”
“What Rusk said.”
“Forget it.”
“No.”
Eli waited.
Jack stared at the ceiling.
“He was right about what I did.”
“Yes.”
“But he was wrong that it means I’ll always be that man.”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
Eli thought of Samuel.
Of Mrs. Reed’s letter.
Of Collins.
Of the many dead who had no opportunity to become older, wiser, kinder versions of themselves.
“Because changing is one of the things the living still get to do.”
Jack closed his eyes.
“That sounds like something Reed’s mother would write.”
“It probably is.”
“Don’t tell her I stole it.”
“I’ll send a letter tomorrow.”
Jack smiled.
Then his breathing slowed.
May you like
Eli remained awake beside him until dawn, guarding a man who had once hurt him and had later risked his life to save him.
War had made stranger brothers.
