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“Listen. Your leg is broken. I need to make a splint or I’m going to cause more damage when I move you. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

Lee had a knife with a saw-tooth back in his survival kit. He used the jagged blade to cut through two branches, trimming them to roughly a foot long. It was tiring work as each stroke spanned only a couple of inches. Even in the cold, sweat beaded on his forehead as he sawed at the wood. He spoke as he worked. Talking made him feel better.

“We crashed off the coast last night. My helicopter was damaged and sank. I thought I was dead. The last thing I remember was swimming through the wreckage, trying to get to the surface. I must have blacked out, but my life jacket kept my head above water and somehow I survived. I was washed ashore about fifteen kilometers south of here.”

Lee should have been more guarded with his words, but he had to speak. Talking broke down the artificial barriers between them. He wondered how much she understood, wondering if she would recall his words to the North Korean soldiers and betray him, and yet he felt he had to trust her. From the moment he decided to help, he knew he’d have to trust her to do the right thing, just as he’d done the right thing in coming to her aid. What was greater? Loyalty to one’s country, or kindness to a stranger?

“We were searching for someone,” he continued. “A girl, a young girl.”

“The girl from the stars?” she said, and he stopped sawing.

“Yes, the girl from the stars,” he replied, his heart pounding in his chest.

Lee was surprised by the emotion stirred by her words. Her description of a girl from the stars took him off guard, but that had to be who the US Navy SEALs had come looking for. How did this woman know about her? What made her talk about this girl as coming from the stars? How was that even possible? He had so many questions, but he felt prudence was the best tactic and finished sawing at the wood without saying any more.

“I have seen her,” the woman added, breaking the silence. “She was rescued by one of the fishermen in my village. I will take you to her.”

Lee was surprised by the woman’s openness. There was something in the tone of her voice, in the conviction with which she spoke, as though she had been bold enough to speak out against taboo. He nodded, saying, “Thank you.”

Although what could he do to help this child? He had no idea who she was, where she was really from, or why she was so important to the Americans. And he had no way of rescuing the young girl, no way of rescuing himself. For now, however, that could wait.

“First, we need to get you out of this ravine,” he said, kneeling beside her and placing sticks on either side of her leg. He took off his jacket and removed his shirt. Then, using his knife, he tore the shirt into long strips of cloth. “I’m sorry, but this is going to hurt.”

He could see her gripping the roots of the tree she was leaning against. Her knuckles were white with anticipation. She nodded, and Lee got to work, trying to move as swiftly and deliberately as possible as he straightened her leg and bound sticks on either side. She cried out in pain, but held herself still.

“You’re doing good,” he said, as her head jerked to one side. Lee understood what she was doing. She wanted to pull away, to remove herself from the pain, but she had to know how important it was to keep her leg still. Her pent up anguish and pain manifested itself in tension in her arms, shoulders, neck and head, but she kept from moving her legs.

He hated seeing anyone in pain, much less being the one inflicting the pain, but this was necessary. With fourteen years in the Coast Guard, Lee had seen his fair share of grisly injuries, but they were normally tended to by the medics. Necessity demanded precision, to be cruel to be kind. She was gritting her teeth as he fed the strips of cloth under her leg and bound them to the sticks, tying them tight.

He finished and let her rest for a few minutes, knowing that the pain from setting her leg would take some time to subside. Already, there was considerable swelling around the leg.

“You were very brave,” he said as rain dripped from his face.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she replied, trying to joke with him. This was good, he knew. She looked pale and had begun shivering in the rain, and he was worried about the effect of shock and the impact of the temperature drop as night settled. To hear her joke relieved him and allowed him to gauge her resilience. She was tough.

Lee helped her stand, pulling her arm up over his shoulder. The horse had fallen silent, but it wasn’t dead, it craned its head, looking over at them, perhaps sensing rescue. There was nothing to be done for the animal. If he had a sidearm, he would have been tempted to put a bullet in its brain, even if it would have attracted unwanted attention. In any case, there was nothing he could do for the suffering mare.

“Easy, girl. Easy,” he said to the mare, speaking in a soft tone. If the horse became spooked and started lashing out with its legs the crushed remains of the wagon could come loose and slide further down the gully, taking them with it. The horse craned its neck, turning its head and looking back at him with the whites of its eyes exposed in terror.

“Easy,” he whispered, sensing the fear running through the distressed animal.

The horse turned its head away, staring out into the darkness. He could see it was exhausted. The water running across its back and flanks must have been chilling its core. For a moment, Lee thought about dragging the woman out of the gully and then returning to put the poor animal out of its misery, but with a knife he’d only ensure the horse died in agony. The horse rested its head in the mud, resigned to its fate, and Lee decided hypothermia was the kindest death it could have.

Lee helped the woman up, keeping one eye on the mare.

The woman stood on her good leg, keeping the knee of her broken leg bent, trying to avoid touching the ground.

“I am Sun-Hee,” she said, and Lee smiled, realizing how culturally difficult this was for her. With her arm around his neck for support, she seemed to struggle with being uncomfortably close to him. Such close proximity didn’t bother him, but she appeared to be pushing through a mental barrier. He recognized that and wanted to show warmth and friendship in response.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sun-Hee, although I wish it were under different circumstances.”

“Me too.”

It took over an hour to climb out of the gorge as night fell. Lee picked his way up the side of the slope, moving at an angle. He dragged Sun-Hee with him, helping her from one tree to the next, resting often. Occasionally, she’d cry out in pain as her broken leg knocked against the ground or caught on a rock. Her screams pierced the quiet of night, but there was no reply. No one was looking for her.

“What were you doing out here in the forest?” he asked as they staggered out onto the darkened track.

“I was returning from the markets in Koh-Soh. I live with my grandfather, a fisherman in the village below.”

“Yes, I saw the village from the ridge,” Lee replied, relishing how their conversation had warmed.

With the rain falling in a drizzle, they hobbled down the muddy track toward the distant village.

Chapter 04: Mario’s

“Dude, you scored! Come on. Tell me. Who is she?”

Mitchell wasn’t subtle at the best of times, thought Jason. With his hair buzzed close to the scalp on the sides and back of his head and an excessive amount of hair gel sticking up the remaining crop on top, Jason imagined Mitchell’s hair style came from sticking his fingers in an electrical socket. He kept that thought to himself.