My Dear Laurens (Lams)

H. Mulligan

The plan was simple. Evade where you can, kill when you must. Hercules didn't have time to change the circumstances or create a more foolproof, complex plan, so he had to use what he was given. His time was running out as he moved to the woods with Laurens and the other prisoners behind him. The night sky reflected in Hercules' eyes like starlight in pools of deep water. Danger lurked in the motionless abyss. The same danger cast a sluggish fog in the air that only meant bad things to come.

Hercules held a gun in his hand and turned his head around to give a curt nod to his followers. He heard voices closing in around him, and he wasn't about to stand still another moment longer. Reem caught Hercules's eye as he stepped in front of him with a flat hand raised, palm forward. Hercules' brows knit together. Was Reem already going to turn them in? Had the five minutes ended already?

"Stop," Reem said, a tired sigh curling out of his lips. "You're going about this all wrong."

Voices inched closer along with footsteps and trigger fingers.

"I don't have time for a better plan, Reem. If you want to say something, say it."

Reem let his palm fall flat on Hercules' shoulder. "There's an easier way to get out of this. Besides, my five minutes isn't up yet. I'll help you, but I don't have time to explain it because the general's two assistants are on their way back. Tie the prisoners up again, put their weapons back, and follow my lead. Easy."

Hercules nodded but felt another hand clutch his shoulder. This time, from behind. Hercules whirled around and found Laurens' distrust in every feature.

"Is this really a good idea? He almost shot you a second ago."

Hercules tilted his head, reflecting on the gun in his face only moments before. He exhaled through his nose, then reigned his focus in on Laurens. "I don't think he'll betray me now. Not when he's about to put all of our lives on the line. He's not like the other redcoats, Laurens. He won't get us killed. Well, not yet."

Laurens didn't seem to cheer up at Hercules' pep talk, so Hercules patted Laurens on the shoulder and smiled. Hercules knew that wouldn't help either, but at least he could say he tried.

In the seconds Hercules had left, he grabbed a handful of rope from the table of returned torture devices and jogged to the prisoners. None of them seemed to want to follow Reem's word either, but they trusted Hercules and that was enough. Once they were tied again, Hercules lined them up on their knees. Reem dropped by his side as he loaded a second pistol.

"Get them on their feet," Reem said, not caring to lift his head to address anyone directly.

Hercules faced the group and nodded. There was a pointed look on their faces, all except for Laurens and the small boy next to him. Hercules cracked his knuckles and waited until they rose to their feet. He glanced at Reem, who finished tending to his gun, and faced Hercules with a smile.

"Now, we wait."

Hercules rolled his eyes but kept his pistol out as Reem did. Reem pointed his gun at the prisoners, specifically the man with the codename of Shield. Hercules lifted his gun and pointed at Laurens. The glare on Laurens' face was a passing joy Hercules was glad to see. Almost like old times.

The voices approached until they were just out of view of Hercules and Reem. Hercules' skin crawled as he waited. He didn't like waiting. Especially when the plan was in the hands of Reem, a bit of an inconsistent, slightly insane individual.

In the last second before Reem's plan was put into action, Reem's eyes flew to Hercules' and he winked. Already, Hercules hated the plan.

"What is this?!" A voice yelled. Except, it wasn't the voice of one of the assistants but a third Hercules and Reem had not accounted for. The General.