Jessie pushed through the thick foliage of the jungle, a pistol in her hand cocked and ready. She held up her fist to signal Coby and Brion behind her that they were stopping. She pulled out the map and carefully unfolded it. The air in the jungle was so thick and humid everything they had on them became damp and never seemed to dry. She consulted the map and checked her compass to make sure they were heading in the right direction. They should be approaching the supply cache in about thirty minutes.
“How much farther?” Coby asked. Brion maintained his position in the back but kept one ear trained on the conversation.
“About two kilometers and we should be on top of it,” Jessie said.
“That’s presuming that your sources are right,” he continued. “I mean, they could be wrong.”
“This is our own drop box. The sources tell me there’s been a drop for us to pick up. This wasn’t a renegade rumour that I picked up off the street. We got the message and others confirmed it. People risked their lives to get these supplies.” He was new to the cause, she reminded herself. He was still suspicious and always on guard but he was dedicated. It took time to build up trust.
After double checking their position she moved on.
She trusted her sources not to give her bogus information. They believed in the cause just as much as she did, some of them more so. Every day people were facing mounting hardships; forced out of their homes so the building could be demolished and the land commandeered, struggling to earn money and given ration cards to exchange for food from stores with empty shelves, health deteriorating and no care to help them. She had seen people in dire need and had determined to do something about it.
“I just wonder,” Coby continued. “What’s to stop the government from finding out about the drop box, planting the message that there’s a pick up, and staging an attack? What if this is a trap?”
Jessie didn’t break stride or bother turning around. “That might be the case. Every scrap of information we get is scrutinized, and any one of those pieces, or all of them, could be planted. False intel to throw us off course, lead us into a trap, or pit us against our own. That’s the risk, I refuse to sit around and do nothing in fear of doing the wrong thing.”
They continued on in silence, the sounds of the jungle the only thing keeping them company. Animals far off, insects buzzing by their heads, their own footsteps echoing back at them before falling dead among the trees. What if this was a trap? Jessie had always tried to put the idea out of her head, but each mission it was a very real possibility. Was she ready to lay it all on the line for them?
They came to a tree line at the edge of a small clearing. Jessie stopped them at the edge and crouched down to survey the scene.
“What’s going-” Coby began. Jessie silenced him by putting her hand over his mouth.
“Even if this isn’t a trap, the enemy could be nearby,” she whispered in his ear.
They sat there in silence for a full ten minutes. Jessie watched the clearing and listened for any signs of approaching or hiding soldiers. She looked over at Brion who nodded his head; the coast was clear.
“All right we’re good,” Jessie said. They all relaxed a bit and Jessie holstered her gun. She pointed into the clearing. “You see that large boulder there with the two small uprooted trees lying across it? That’s our mark, the cache is buried right in front. Coby, you and me are going to dig, and we’re going to do it fast. It’s not deep, but I don’t want to waste time making this pretty. Brion, you assemble the wagon, I want it ready when we hit pay dirt. I don’t know exactly what we’ll find down there, but once we do I want to load it up and get out of here as fast as possible. We’re going to be moving at a good clip and burdened with the extra weight; be ready for that. On my mark, ready?” Coby had his shovel in hand, Brion had thrown down his pack and was already assembling the all-terrain wagon. “Go!”
They ran out into the clearing and began digging right in front of the boulder. They had a steady rhythm for staying out of each other’s way; one shovel in while the other was dumping dirt. Back and forth, back and forth. The dirt was soft which excited Jessie, that meant it had probably been dug recently; the intel was good.
They had only been at it for a couple of minutes when Coby struck something hard. They both threw aside their shovels and began pulling the dirt out by hand, brushing it away from the hard surface. He looked up at her with a smile, he was starting to trust.
“How’s that wagon coming along?” Jessie yelled. She looked over as Brion was ratcheting on the last wheel. He gave her a thumbs up to show he was ready. “Great, give us a hand over here.”
They lifted out a medium sized chest and laid it on the ground. Too eager to wait Coby popped the lock and swung the lid open. There were stacks of extra ration cards, enough to feed people for a month; there were batteries, a set of walkie-talkies, some sacks of grain, jugs of water, and first aid supplies. It was a good haul that would help people out. Jessie and Brion each grabbed an end and carried it to the wagon.
“Wait, there’s more,” Coby was on his knees looking into the hole. Jessie came back and they pulled out a second chest. “The intel was good,” he said.
“I was only told about the one,” Jessie said. She popped the lock and swung the lid open. Inside were a series of rifles, stacks of ammunition, plastic explosives and detonators. “This wasn’t in the plan.”
“Load it up, we’ll take it.” Coby said.
“How are plastic explosives going to help-” Jessie began.
“We’ll find a use for them. Everything can be used somehow,” Coby said.
Jessie didn’t feel good about this. Something felt off. She ignored the feeling as they loaded up the second chest, replaced the cover over the hole and topped it off with the dirt. She moved to grab the front of the wagon when Coby stopped her.
“Easy there,” he grabbed her wrist and threw her arm back. “I’ll take it from here. You two can step back into the clearing there;
“Coby?” Jessie said. “You’re a spy?”
“Turn around,” he reached down and un-holstered her pistol and threw it into the bush. “This is more of a double-cross. I’m taking these supplies to the Liberation Army for when we stage our coup. Now down on your knees, hands behind your head.” He had his gun trained on them so they complied.
“This is our drop. Those supplies, those ration cards,” she pointed to the loaded wagon. “Those are for the people.”
“Hands behind the head,” he reminded her. “And the people?” He laughed. “They would just squander it away until they were right back where they started. They don’t know what’s good for them, they don’t know how to take care of themselves. We do, and with these supplies the Liberation Army will set them free.”
“The Liberation Army is just a front for another group of fascist. Give it a catchy name and fresh coat of paint all you want, you have no interest in people really being free. If you did you’d be helping them, not dictating to them.”
“Call it what you want, we’ll have the power and you’ll be dead.” He cocked his rifle and fired.
Nothing happened.
The rounds were duds, too damp from the jungle humidity. He became frantic trying to get the rifle to fire. Jessie seized on the opportunity, leaned forward and kicked her leg back into his shin. He bent over in pain. Jessie spun onto her back and kicked her leg out again, landing her heel in his groin. Coby buckled over in pain, dropping the gun in the process. She stood up and finished him off with a knee to the head. His neck cracked back and his body stood there for a moment, frozen in place, before falling back onto the ground.
Jessie slapped Brion across the face to snap him out of his daze. One way or another word was going to get to the Liberation Army about what they had done, but they had to focus on one problem at a time. Right now they had to get these supplies out of the jungle and to their headquarters. She grabbed the front to steer while Brion pushed from the back. Coby was still lying on the ground as they disappeared into the bush.