Twisted Mercy

Down on the Bayou

August 10th, 2021

10:14am

Location: Samson, LA

**********

Swamps are disgusting. Don't get me wrong, there is something peaceful about sitting in a canoe in the middle of the bayou, but the mosquitoes are gross and the humidity messes with my hair to the point of irritation.

"How long do we have to be out here again," I asked. I swatted the twentieth mosquito that had landed on me. Note to self: sue bug spray company for faulty product distribution.

Gia turned to look at me from the front of the boat. She lowered her binoculars and rolled her eyes. "We got told to wait for movement and then go in, remember?"

I looked up from the can of bug spray that I was reading and scrunched my nose at her. "Okay, but how do we get there in time if we're IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FREAKING BAYOU?!"

Ivy threw her hand over my mouth and shushed me. I rolled my eyes and licked her hand. She drew back and grimaced.

"Gross, Lily! Gosh, you're weird." She reached into our bag with her clean hand and practically bathed in the amount of hand sanitizer she poured out onto her hand. After she was satisfied that my germs were off her hand, she punched me in the shoulder, but I expected that was to come. Gia is a bit of a germaphobe. "If you yell, you're going to notify them of our presence. Then, they'll run and we'll have to chase them down."

"Okay, but chasing is a lot more fun than sitting in a boat and being bitten by a thousand mosquitoes," I reasoned. Swat. Another mosquito dead.

Genevra chuckled and raised the binoculars to her face. "We wouldn't be on this assignment if you hadn't told Eddie that the Cuban Missile Crisis wasn't Kennedy's fault."

"I didn't mean that. It's just funny seeing his face get all red and when he sputters like a fish out of water." I laughed at the memory of the angry Cuban man. "Plus, I was being totally sarcastic."

"You know the Cabal family doesn't do sarcasm. Everything to them is black and white, totally humorless."

"You think that, when one of them is born, they send the baby to live with the wolves that had been raising their family for generations?"

"None of what you just said made sense."

"They're stiff, humorless, no nonsense, and they always travel together in a pack. Their family had to have been raised by wolves. To appreciate the pack."

I leaned back in the boat and closed my eyes.

"What are you going on about, Davis?"

"Well, Miller, I think the Cabal family has a pact with a local wolf pack. That's why they can't appreciate sarcasm. It's cause the Alpha doesn't appreciate sass."

"You're crazy, dude."

"Crazy smart." I sat back up and opened my eyes. I punched her lightly in the arm, then grabbed my own pair of binoculars from around my neck and put them to my eyes.

The black 10X50 binoculars provided a good line of sights to the boathouse half a mile in the distance. We'd been sitting in the swamp for five hours. The Sun wasn't even rising when we parked our canoe in the humid area. Let me tell you this, I am NOT a morning person. When the Sun is up, I would much rather be in bed, surrounded by my capullo of blankets.

The sage green Bertram 28cc was still parked in front of the dark brown, two-bedroom boathouse that sat at the end of a well-loved dock. The white shutters were in need of painting and the screen door needed some fixing, but the house was adorably quaint. I'd actually like to live in a place like this.

Swat.

Stupid mosquitoes.

The blinds of the boathouse were open just enough for Ivy and I to detect sudden movements, but nothing could be made out save for shadows and body shapes. I wouldn't expect anything less from someone trying to hide away from the Cabal family.

That's when it occurred to me.

"Hey, Genny?" My tone rang of innocent questioning, with an underline of worry.

"Yeah?" She put down her binoculars and met my wide eyes.

A familiar sound began to fill the air.

"The Cabals didn't have anyone watch over the Grant's last night before we showed, did they?"

Realization dawned on her and chocolate orbs turned a pale shade of hickory. The buzzing in the air grew louder as the two of us looked overhead. A Cessna 172 was flying overhead. The same Cessna 172 that we were supposed to use for our escape.

Great.

Not only did we miss our marks, but -

"They jacked our ride!" I looked away from the pale blue sky and looked at Gia. Her mouth was wide open and her normally espresso skin took on a bronze hue.

After a few moments, Genevieve finally looked away from the sky and met my steel blue gaze. Neither of us spoke. We had to be dreaming, right? No way did we actually f-f-

I can't even say the word.

As we rowed to a less wet part of the marsh, I thought about how this could have happened. There was no one here for us to relieve before watching over the Grant brothers. This retrieval mission was strange from the beginning.

Normally, Gia and I know days, sometimes weeks, in advance. We only learned about this one yesterday morning at 11:36am. We weren't slated to leave until 4:28am this morning. No one to relieve, only retrieving some information, but keep the Grant brothers alive.

I don't know if you've noticed yet, but keeping people alive is not something Genny and I do.

As we made it to the bank of the wetlands, a thought made its way into my mind. Normally, I would never think anything of it, but a voice kept nagging at me in the back of my mind.

You know it's true. Just accept it.

We burned the canoe, not wanting to leave any traces of DNA that can link us to any other, um, missions we went on in the past. We're careful, but we aren't perfect.

And they know that too.

We began walking back to the airport at the edge of the swamp. It was a 5.2 mile distance and from there, we would have to buy an airline ticket.

With the money you stole? Or the stolen money that was given to you?

We walked in silence, the two of us too afraid to say anything. I just can't believe that we didn't succeed.

You shouldn't have to. It's not your fault you didn't connect the dots sooner. You couldn't have known that -

"We were set up."