One Last Mission

It has been a long, tiring day at the office. Running diagnostics for security systems can be tedious at best, but it sure beats Hell Week by a mile. Fortunately, by tomorrow I won’t have to use public transportation much longer. I’m slated to pick up the Chevy Suburban that my wife, Camila, and I picked out for our growing family. As if the stars aligned, my phone is ringing and I answer swiftly,

“Hey, honey.”

“Frank Estrada, you're overdoing it again.”

I can hear the exhaustion in her voice. As I sit on the lonely bench, my tiredness kicks in. I ask her a question about our mija

“I take it our pequeña princesa was a bit feisty at bed time?” Before I even get an answer, she lets out this staggered yawn which tells me all that I need to know.

“Yeah, she was.

She sounded sleep deprived and disappointed.

“She missed you today. And maybe she’s a bit nervous about her softball game tomorrow.”

I think about all of the time I missed out on. It was all in order to start my business after returning to civilian life.

“I’ve missed her too. I have missed both of you. I’m sure our Sofia will do fine by the way”.

Just then, I hear a subtle sound of what must be heavy boots. Three pairs of footsteps coming from behind the bus stop were closing in on me. The time was 23:00 -- the bus always arrives at 22:45. I notice a black Cadillac Escalade coming around the same corner as my bus. I utter a secret code to my wife: Did you Cage the Dog?. This code tells her that I’m in danger and the authorities must be called ASAP. I hang up my phone, get up, and run as fast as I can across the empty street. I take out my side-arm and fire on the SUV now speeding my way; the driver swerves into several parked cars cutting off the other pursuers. In mid-sprint, I felt something wrap around my legs like heavy weights which brought me down quickly. My P226 slides across the pavement in front of me, and as I shimmy to reach it I hear a distorted voice.

“You were always quite the fighter, Frank.”

I look up and see a man wearing all black wielding a baton and then nothing.

I am woken by a sharp pain in my temple, with a familiar scent of iron hitting my olfactory system. I can feel a thick cloth over my eyes impairing my vision. I can taste another cloth; likely a gag to keep me from making too much noise. Speaking of noise, I can’t hear anything at all. Did they stuff plugs into my ears? My hands are bound behind my back just tight enough not to cut off my circulation. My lower legs are crossed over each other and wrapped in what I can only guess is duct tape. I am sitting up-right in a seat but I can feel movement -- I must be getting transported. As I am trying to get acclimated to my situation, I feel the plugs getting ripped out of my ears and the blindfold comes off. The brightness of the sunrise stings my eyes, giving me sunspots in my field of vision. I can now hear the slight murmurs of other people who are in a panic but also gagged. I went to turn my head to look around and could feel something metal around my neck. My ears weren’t prepared to hear the high-pitched screech noise that you would get from train wheels on a track. Just as my realization sets in, I hear the same voice from my abductor.

“Hello passengers, welcome to the Endless Amtrak Service”

He continues with malice.

“Yes, it is correct that we are making zero stops as the name suggests. Are you hostages? Maybe. Will you all die? Likely. But we will be making it fun with a little Trivial Pursuit”.

The worried cries of the other passengers become more distressing as he continues with his announcement.

“Play like your life depends on it, because it does.”

This monster not only knew my name, but he talked to me like he’d known me. His last sentence directed at me before I was knocked unconscious, "You were always quite the fighter, Frank". That booming distorted voice playing over and over like a broken record. He couldn't have been someone I know; none of my peers would be capable of doing this. Everyone in my platoon were great people, who went on to do great things. If it were not for my car accident during my last period of leave, I would still be with my brothers on operations.

It was September in 2019, and my platoon was enroute to an operation in war-torn Yemen. Liam, “Jester”, McCormick is the part-time comedian of the squad and has a love for older music. Who could blame him for blasting Blue Oyster Cult’s (Don’t Fear) The Reaper after our last mission. We always joked that he had the look of a young Brad Pitt from Fight Club but without the skill to back it up. Our Operations Officer, Clarence Kyle, wasn’t too keen on the loud music and gave him a single look without a word that said shut it off. Commander Kyle, a six-foot-five and two-hundred-sixty pound beast, has been a SEAL since some of us were still in high-school. He gets confused looks when he explains that he is a family man with three kids. His brown hair trimmed short that fades into a long intimidating beard, he looks like Paul Bunyan. Henry Jackson, one of my closest brothers, gives Jester a smile and says’

“I always preferred Led Zeppelin anyway.”

He and I go way back to high-school. I was a poor Mexican kid and he was a poor Black kid, but it was like we were separated at birth. We even made it through BUD/S together. We went to war on the football field, and with me as the quarterback and him as the lineman we were unstoppable. The rest of us give a slight chuckle with Will Emerson scoffing at the two,

“Ya’ll are sleeping on the Blues. That’s where all of that ‘Rock n’ Roll’ came from.”

Emerson is the typical Texas cowboy that grew up on a cattle farm with a huge, tight-knit family. Rough around the edges but he would give you the shirt off of his back. McCormick wasn’t too amused.

“Hey, Emerson, its good music.”

Emerson looks at the group and smiles,

“You wouldn’t know ‘good music’ if it bit ya where the good Lord split ya.”

We all chuckle at their humorous banter, until the commander re-appears with a map and places it firmly on the war room table.

“Alright ladies, pipe down, we’ve got some work to discuss.”

I took myself out of my trip down memory lane. Taking time to scan my surroundings, I make several conclusions. I estimate the ringleader to be at least six-feet and two-hundred pounds, to my five-feet-nine and one-hundred-ninety pounds. I’m confident I could take him one-on-one. I counted seven unarmed guards; one of them made a pit-stop in the back of the train car. They have some sort of riot batons with advanced technology.

“Frank! Don’t be so nervous.

The ringleader chuckles seeing me look around.

“We'll be starting the game soon. Gotta wait for people to join the live-stream.”

I am outnumbered and armed without anything but my wits. Advanced Operator Training prepared me for this purpose and I can’t rule out that the target knows that. Wait, this guy is streaming this?

Suddenly my captor erupts with glee.

"Great! Welcome viewers to the Runaway Train Trivia 3".

Three of these events already? This guy's been busy. It has become clear that he is responsible for the disappearances in Seattle, Washington and Las Vegas, Nevada. Those cases were both in sets of sixteen but they were spread out approximately six months apart. The bodies of these individuals were never discovered. To my dismay, I count fifteen hostages, making me the sixteenth, and it's been six months since Vegas. It’s also likely that we are all from the San Diego area. What is the significance of these numbers, and what message is he trying to send?

I start thinking about my wife and little girl. I’m relieved that it was me who was taken and not them. The thought of not seeing them again, however, just motivated me to survive even more. I’ve decided that whatever this guy’s deal is, I don’t plan on dying anytime soon and I won’t let these people die. I was able to free my hands from being bound with zip-ties. With two guards having eyes on me, I can't undo my legs yet, so keep my hands behind my back. I have to plan something quick or this will turn bad really quickly. There was a tunnel coming up, which looked like the one in Yemen.

Intel was clear that insurgents were ready to end us on site. To them, we were persona non grata to the utmost degree. We were armed with our M4A1s, heading toward a tunnel for cover in the dead of night. This tunnel was more of a system leading in three different directions and there were small lights overhead. Several of us were stationed on either side of the entrance. The commander stood with Henry who had sent in a small drone as a precaution and remarked,

“McCormick, this is set up like your man-cave.”

“Gee Henry, maybe I should head right on in ‘cuz I’m sure your momma’s been waiting on me.”

The quick witted banter was cut short, when Commander Kyle points out three body signatures. There were hostages in the cave, or so it would appear. We ran surveillance on this area for the past few nights with nobody entering or leaving. Emerson states that he has a bad feeling that this is most likely a trap and that those are insurgents waiting for us to ambush us. Kyle was distraught, because he had children who looked like their age. The hostages noticed the drone and started screaming and shaking their heads. Suddenly, the image goes dark which notifies us that they are ready to ambush us. Our marksman, Operator Marcus Russo, was backing us up from the outside and noticed movement on the right side of this tunnel.

“Commander, they are escorting the High Value Target from the backside of the cave system”.

“Russo, if you’ve got a clear shot on the guards, send ‘em. The three of us will enter the cave to save the hostages and secure any intel left behind.”

I am snapped from my trance, by the madman.

“Frank, please pay attention, the game is beginning.

All of our collars light up with three bars of different colors: green, yellow, red.

“Ladies and gentlemen we will begin with Ms. Linda Miller”,

the madman says as he removes her gag.

“A banker, retired with a huge pension, how many loans did you turn down during your tenure?”

The screen lights up with three options:

A. 30

B. 60

C. 100

The woman, likely in her early seventies, spit on his mask. He then sighs, pressing a button sending a shock through her body.

“Oops, I forgot she had a pace-maker.

the masked villain said with a snicker.

“The answer was C 100. They say ‘redlining’ was made illegal in 1968, but I don’t think she got the memo.

History will forget her.”

He moves to the next person, a pale skinned well-dressed man in his fifties. The henchman undoes the man’s gag.

“Hello there, Anthony Walker III. Three generations of you guys from England. The third one ends up in the ‘Land of Opportunity’. Running from something no doubt.”

“What do you w-want? M-m-money? I can give you it all! Just let me please!”

The collar lights up and he is tasered. Yellow and red are now displayed without the green.

“Look, mate, don’t speak before I ask you a trivia question. I mean it’s right there on the fifty-two inch screen.”

As the henchmen remove Linda’s body, the man is asked several questions that are basic economics trivia. He passes the questions with flying colors, even though they are becoming progressively personal. It seems that two guards are escorting the woman’s body to the back of the train, and they unlock her collar with a small data key; something like a micro-SD card in a small device. My hope is that I can get my hands on one, freeing myself and all of the other survivors. That remote that sets off the taser collars must be organized with our seating arrangements in mind. Linda was sitting in front of me and Anthony is adjacent to my left in a row ahead of me. I’ve got an idea.

“Good job Mr. Walker! You’ve passed this round, barely. Gag him again until the next round.

He turns his attention toward me, motioning toward the guard to remove my gag.

“Franco Alberto Ramirez Estrada. Navy SEAL--”

“Former Navy SEAL.”

I am tasered, but I stick my hands between the cushions of the seat to keep my arms in place.

“Frank, ‘Once a SEAL, always a SEAL’... at least that’s the saying right?”

This tunnel was finally coming to an end, a light stinging my eyes much like the flash bang in that Yemeni cave. The insurgents had planned to ambush us, and they seemed to know we were coming somehow. I was charged by one of them holding a knife. I threw my weight as hard as I could, but the knife had pierced my right arm. From the ground, I dispatched the assailant with two rounds to the chest. The other two were taken out by McCormick before they could discharge their AK-47s in my direction. Meanwhile, the commander was freeing and communicating with the hostages.

“They say that wasn’t Rahim, it was just a look-a-like.

He unbinds them and turns toward us.

“We have been set up boys.”

“You've gotta be kidding me! How?”

“I wish I knew, McCormick”

At this point, a detonation was set off, I looked up running to push McCormick out of the way but it was too late. The debris landed on top of him and I went to dig him out. The commander swore and yelled that we had to get the girls out of the cave before more detonations were set off. He was right, at this point, only one entrance was left relatively unscathed. Communications were coming back online, as if a jammer was decommissioned. Emerson and Russo chime in:

“Commander, we heard bombs going off. Do you copy?”

“I’m hit! I’m hit! They’ve found my perch!”

We had come under heavy fire from all sides and barely escaped with our lives. We managed to secure the women to a nearby outpost, however, Russo would succumb to his injuries and McCormick’s body was never recovered. Both of our brothers were considered K.I.A.

“Next question, Frank: How many of your daughter’s softball games did you miss?

I was speechless, how long has he been keeping tabs on my family?

“A. 1, B. 5, or C. 7?”

For my plan to work, I had to answer falsely

“A. 1”

As I’m tasered for a second time, he lets out an irritated sigh and gives a small speech of sorts. “Come on, man. You know the answers to these. One more bar left before you join Linda. Do you really want to leave your family without a father and husband? Especially with another little one on the way? The answer is C. 7” He is pacing back and forth, and I can see two guards standing at the ready to take me away. “Look, I’ll make it easy for you Frank. You answer this one correctly and you will be allowed to call your family before the next round.” A tempting offer, but I need to stick to my guns. “Last question: Your car accident was a direct result of you driving under the influence of alcohol. True or False?” What the hell? How is he getting this information? It is unfortunately true, but I again had to lie. I give him a determined looked and I answer: “False”

The electrical current that went through my body was one of the most painful things I’ve ever felt. I nearly black out, but I stayed conscious enough to pretend to be knocked out. I keep my wrists close to keep up the appearance that I’m still tied up. The guards carry me to the train-car where Linda was discarded and they close the door behind them. In one swift movement, I grab the guards’ batons and disable their legs with a powerful jolt. One of them turns to attack me with his combat knife, but I dodge at the last minute to stun him with a baton strike in the neck. I use the knife to free my legs and I get ready to dispatch the next guard. Before I can move towards him, he takes his helmet off in surrender, and hands me one of the cards to disable my collar. I removed the collar, said “Thanks”, and knocked him unconscious with a roundhouse to the temple. Two guards are down, but the Ringleader will be suspicious within the next couple minutes. Six more targets are on my mind, and suddenly I hear a weak moan. Is Linda still alive?

I cut open the body bag and I checked her pulse. I found a pulse although it was almost undetectable. Her collar was already removed, likely because of her death-like appearance. I grab the handle to the back of the train car but it's locked, and I attempt to force it open until I notice something. It has a slot for a key card, so at this point I start digging in the guards' pockets and find a green key card. "Guard 3 speaking: 1 and 4, what is taking so long?" It was the irritated voice of another henchmen coming through a detached earpiece. I hid Linda in a safe place behind a cabinet space, then I hurried to disguise myself as Guard 1. I barely finished my disguise before Guard 3 bursts through. He looks at me, the body bag, then the unconscious Guard 4. I break the silence with my altered voice:

“The poor kid is tuckered out. That Army dude was pretty tough to put down.”

“Navy SEAL, first of all, and second.

At this point he is extremely suspicious and walks towards the body bag and opens it.

“WHAT THE--”

I put him in a sleeper hold until he was no longer conscious. I sit him next to Guard 4, zip-tying them both. I use the key card on the door and it opens to a railing and I see open tracks. Looking to my left I see a ladder to the top of the train and I start climbing. Smelling the fresh air, and seeing the sunny sky at midday was a peaceful sight. So many trees reflecting lively green, and I realize how much of life is taken for granted.

attempting to sneak my way across the train car, I heard expletives coming loudly through the earpiece. I’ve been found out, so I jump up from the prone position into a full sprint. I need to make it to the locomotive to shut this ride down. A guard climbs up on the car to cut me off but I employ a move I learned as a kid: The Spear, which is also known as the shoulder block take down. I spear him hard enough that we land in the locomotive breaking through its glass ceiling. We land hard but I know I’ve gotta get up quickly and knock him unconscious. Before I can turn off the train engine, I hear something unmistakeable. The hammer of a firearm is pulled and I hear the leader sound surprised, “Wow Frank, I didn’t think you still had this in you! You’ve made this almost worth it.” This clothing isn’t bulletproof but his handgun wasn’t going to do enough damage to kill me from that range. I hit the emergency stop, and feel a sharp pain in my leg. How could I not take into account armor piercing rounds?

He ushers the guards to the other car, “Guys, take five. I’ll finish this myself.

The leader speaks confidently as I turn to face him.

“Got any last words, Frank?”

I take the helmet off to reveal my angry and determined face.

The least he could do is kill me while facing me eye to eye. Just when all hope was lost, a helicopter entered the air near us. With this guy distracted, I used the stun baton to knock his weapon from his hand. I followed with a lunge which brought him to the ground. Using my helmet as a blunt object, I break his disguise, removing his helmet.

I wasn’t ready for this reveal: It was Liam McCormick. The scars made him look a little different, but there was definitely no mistaking it. In my state of shock, he takes advantage and strikes my injured leg and I roll away. He locks the train doors and presses a button on his remote. Rock n’ Roll Train by AC/DC begins blasting in the locomotive and he shouts, “LET’S GO!”. We clinch and we trade knees and elbows, and I land a right hook. He tried to kick my head with his left foot, but I blocked it to go for a take down. I lift him then slam his torso on the floor which worked as intended but he grapples my arm. “That leg’s in bad shape, right? Be a shame if I did the same to your arm.” I break free and land an elbow, disorienting him. He recovers quickly as S.W.A.T busts into the locomotive with weapons drawn. I’m being held at gunpoint by McCormick while the operatives shout commands. I wasn’t going to let him have it easy just dying here and now. He needs to be brought to justice.

In all of the excitement, I managed to lock my collar onto his leg. I press the corresponding button ducking down as he seizes up. S.W.A.T. operators charge him with restraints and I shimmy to the side of the locomotive. One operative, that I can only guess is the captain, says over the radio “We need an Air-Lift Unit out here. One presenting with a gunshot wound, and another with a malfunctioning pacemaker”. He walks over and helps me up, and I’m assisted outside the train of death. I look over and see the other passengers being escorted out by other operatives. This mission was my last, and it was complete.

Months later, I’m present in my family’s life. We had a beautiful baby boy, who we named Fernando; a brave voyager like his father. My daughter won the last game of her season, which means I lost a bet with my wife. Ah well, a pizza party while grilling some burgers and hotdogs is welcome these days for sure. McCormick is on his way to serving a maximum sentence of 128 years, but he may attempt the insanity plea. My platoon and I miss the man he used to be, but we realize that man died in that tunnel years ago. Bittersweet, but life will be the way it is I suppose.