State of Pursuit

“Whoa, look up!” I say, skidding to a halt.

It reads: DIVISION FIVE

A cellblock we haven’t searched yet.

I share a glance with Ma

We go inside.

The hallway here is short with fifteen compact cells. Each one is nothing more than a door with a small slit for a window.

“Chris!” I shout. “Where are you?”

I pull back the metal sheet on the window and peek inside the first cell. An emaciated figure is sitting in the corner. A woman. An officer.

I toss the keys to Uriah.

I say, “Get them out.” Then, “Chris Young! Are you here?”

Uriah discards the keys that he took from the guard in the hallway and finds the main switch to the cell doors — they open, just like they did on the floor below. The prisoners inside the cells are starved, beaten, and bruised. Many of them are covered in scabs and dried blood. The living conditions remind me of the Omega slave labor camp I was imprisoned in.

I come to the last cell. The man in the corner has long hair and a lean build. My mouth goes dry.

“Chris?” I say.

He looks up, but it’s not Chris. Someone else. I have a borderline heart attack.

“He’s not here,” I state, numb. “Chris isn’t here.”

“He’s here somewhere,” Uriah replies, shaking me. “Don’t give up.”

God, please. Give me a break! I’m begging you!

Injured and weakened officers stumble into the hallway, disoriented and confused.

“We’re Americans!” I say simply. “We’re here to get you out.” Then, “Do any of you know where Commander Chris Young is?”

I might as well ask. Seriously. What have I got to lose at this point?

My question goes unanswered. So I ask again, louder. This time, someone speaks up. It’s the prisoner that I thought was Chris.

“He’s upstairs,” he croaks. His voice is broken by exhaustion. “I don’t know if he’s coming back or not.”

A stone drops to the pit of my stomach.

“Stick to the plan,” I tell Uriah. “We go upstairs.”

Half a dozen officers manage to drag themselves into the hall with the help of my men. “Okay,” I say, “stick with me. Officers?” I turn to the newly freed prisoners. “Run like hell and don’t stop until you’re safe.”

The clock is ticking. Omega is now totally aware of our presence inside the building, and I’m guessing that we have seconds to locate Chris and get out of here before backup rolls in.

The prisoners separate from my team. We leave the hallway and head for the stairwell. We have studied the blueprints for this building so many times that I feel like I’m reenacting some sort of memory.

Ma

We enter the stairway. Omega guards and officers are frantically crawling all over the office cubicles. Computers with lit monitors are sitting on every desk.

Computers. Working computers.

An Omega guard fires off a round and hits Ma

“This is an office area!” Uriah shouts. “Where’s Chris supposed to be?”

“With Harry,” I say.

I don’t know how I know this — I just do.

I looked at the layout of the Holding Center more than anybody else. Harry Lydell’s office is here — and if Chris is still alive, that is where he must be.

“Ma

“I’ve got it,” he says.

Ma

“Keep going,” he warns. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“We’re not leaving you,” I state.

Tick tock, tick tock.

Bam, bam, bam, bam.

Fire and return fire. Gunpowder and smoke and screaming sirens. And I see Harry’s office. Two big doors in the back of the room. I recognize them instantly from the layout plans I studied. A jolt of adrenaline seizes me. This is our last chance. We’ve barely got any time left.

“Just go!” Ma

In that moment I know that I have to make a hard decision: save Ma

“We’ll be back for you,” I promise.

It’s a false promise. We are out of time.

We move across the office, systematically coordinating our movements like a SWAT team on a raid. Our presence here is definitely not a secret anymore. By the time we reach the office doors, every single Omega trooper that stood in our way is either down or dead. We are just that efficient.

“Duck!” Uriah shouts.

I don’t hesitate. I just do as he says. He fires a round over my head and a trooper falls dead, half of his body concealed behind the corner of a hallway. Well hidden. Almost the death of me.

“Thanks,” I say.

He nods.

The office doors are marked with simple bronze plates that read:

DISTRICT PREFECT: HARRY LYDELL

The doors are locked and the wood is too heavy to break.

Tick tock…

“Come on, hurry up!” I command. “We’re ru

Andrew straps a strip charge to the door and we take cover behind some metal filing cabinets. Five, four, three, two, one…Boom! The explosion shatters the door, sending splinters of wood everywhere.

I approach the door. I want to be the first one through. We push the doors aside and walk into the office. Desk, chairs, and a window overlooking the street below. Omega soldiers are rallying around the front of the building, returning fire, blindly attacking distant muzzle flashes. Smoke is rising around the building, a flood of gray fog on the Los Angeles avenue that has become a battlefield.

Brilliant, Derek, I think proudly. Keep it up.

But the office is empty, and my heart sinks again. Harry is nowhere to be found. Uriah walks around the desk and pulls open the drawers. He stuffs his pack with papers and maps. I just stand there, frozen for a moment. Disappointed. The hope drains out of me.

If Chris isn’t in this building, then he’s not alive.

It’s as simple as that.

Panic seizes me. I fight to keep my breathing even, to maintain a grip on my nerves. I can’t have a breakdown in the middle of a rescue operation. These men are counting on me to get them out of here alive.

“Ma

No answer.

“Ma

Uriah gives me a confused look, Andrew searches the room.

“He’s not here,” he states. “What the hell?”

“He was just here!”

“He couldn’t just disappear.”

“He just did!”

Bam!

A gunshot ricochets off the wall. Bullets crack past my body. We drop down, instantly covering ourselves. Ma

“What happened to Ma

“He was here two seconds ago!” Uriah replies.

One shot, two shots, three shots…

What do I do? We have to go. We can’t stay. This was the plan — get in and get out. If we can’t find Chris, we have to leave. Now.

“We’re done here!” I yell. “We’ve got to go!”

“But we haven’t found—”

“—I know!” I hold my stomach, gasping for breath. “Believe me. I know.”

I know right now, in this moment, that the decision I make will define the rest of my life. With or without Chris, I have to choose to either move on or hesitate and risk the lives of the rescue team.