Read Online Mission Under Fire by Rex Byers - Free Book Online

out of more than a couple of bad business decisions.
    Wounded and thinking about Sharon, I fell out of the fight. My body lay twisted on my left side and back. I couldn’t really see what was going on. I could only hear the commotion, and it sounded ugly.
    Around this time, Jason had decided to jump out of his second-story bedroom window. The cell phone wasn’t working so he needed to make a run for Arthur’s house. He chose to leave his son, Cole, for the sake of getting help because it had become painfully obvious that help wasn’t coming.
    Jason climbed through the windowsill, turned, and grabbed hold of the window with his hands. He hung there with his face against the cement building, contemplating the risks that came with letting go. But there was no other choice. He released his grip and hoped for the best. He landed on his bare feet on a small area covered in grass. If he had missed the grass, he would’ve landed on concrete. When he stood up, both legs still worked, so with no time to lose he sprinted toward Arthur’s house.
    ~•••~
    W hile the gunmen continued firing, Brad and I kept silent on the veranda. The silence caused the women’s hope to sink to a new low. They heard me scream out in agony, but nothing after that.
    As I lay on the veranda, the women continued pleading for God to save us. Sheila never gave up hope, confident that God would come through for us. Prayer was our only weapon. We were wounded, exhausted, bleeding, and trusting that God would somehow stop the madness.
    ~•••~
    A rthur’s home was roughly one-quarter mile from the second gate. Jason kept moving even though he had felt the pain and swelling in his ankles. No one knew if the Haitians were focused on our living quarters or if they had surrounded the entire compound, so as far as Jason knew, he was at risk of being spotted by the gunmen. Worse yet, the Haitians could’ve made their way in while he had run off. The decision to run for help was as risky as staying.
    There were no good choices. The gunmen could’ve barged in with guns blazing taking everyone out. We were trapped. The fight was completely in the Haitian’s favor, so Jason chose flight as his only means of defense. Besides God’s gracious hand upon us, Jason was our only hope. But getting to Arthur’s place was no easy task.
    The first obstacle Jason encountered was a ten-foot iron gate. This gate should’ve kept the gunmen out in the first place. After clearing the first gate, he ran a short distance and came to a little drainage ditch and scaled yet another ten-foot iron gate. He clambered up, dropped to his aching feet and continued running.
    When Jason reached Arthur’s little house, he pounded on the door, desperately calling for help.
    ~•••~
    W hile on the veranda, we were still using my flashlight to evaluate my leg and monitor my blood loss. But then we thought we saw flashlights coming around the corner of the building. Brad thought the gunmen were looking for another way in, so he told me to shut off my light and I did right away.
    Were they coming in at all costs? I wondered. Perhaps they were more committed than we were prepared to handle? What did they want? With everything that had happened, we still had no idea why they were attacking us. And the relentless shooting continued. 
    Pop! Pop! Pop!
    “I’ve been shot!” I heard Morgan cry out. “Shit!  Shit! I’ve been shot!” I felt sick to my stomach knowing that he, too, was wounded. Would he die? How bad was it? Are they coming in now? Our situation grew more desperate by the minute. Four of us had been shot, and our ability to fight back or secure the door had quickly diminished. 
    Morgan shouted, “Please! Stop shooting at us,” while he and CB, both wounded, continued pressing their bodies against the door.
    I’m sure the gunmen didn’t understand a word Morgan said, but I understood the desperation in his words and distress in his tone. Unfortunately, his plea