Freedom Fighters

35. Captain

Dario's fingers stayed close to the trigger of his rifle, ready to fire at any moment. The enemy captain right in front of him stood with his back straight, chin lifted up, with a loose grip on his pistol. Dario was breathing hard through his nose, chest inflating and deflating rapidly. He coughed as he inhaled a whiff of smoke. His ankle continued radiating waves of pain, which he tried his best to ignore.

His discerning eyes slowly softened, and the captain said, "Hey, how old are you?"

Dario's grip on his rifle tightened and his expression hardened. "What's it to you?"

The Captain took a step forward and Dario quickly shuffled backwards. Shaking his head with an amused expression, he said, "No one's watching us, boy. Look around us."

He waved his hand to the dead bodies littering the forest floor, and the grey particles of ash floating in the air. 

"There's enough death already, don't you think?" 

"Look." Dario's voice was hard. "I am not falling for it."

The muscles on the Captain's face contracted, before he suddenly broke out in harsh laughter. Dario frowned in confusion, and for a moment, his animosity towards the man lowered. 

"What's so funny, Captain."

The soldier grinned, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. "Look, kid. I am not looking to die today. No one is watching. What is the point of us going at each other's throat? Put down your weapon and maybe we can let each other live."

"If you don't believe me," he continued. "Then I will just do this."

With a nonchalant shrug, he threw his pistol away. 

Dario's eyes widened. The Captain had shown a tremendous amount of faith, and he felt that he could not take advantage of the situation. His grip slowly loosened and he lowered his rifle. Somewhere within the dark confines of his heart, a voice told him that it was the right thing to do.

"Do you have water, kid? I'm thirsty from all the fighting."

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The Captain sighed in bliss as cool water swished down his parched throat. 

"Thank you," he muttered as he handed the water canteen back to Dario who placed it back into his side pouch without a word. The sounds of the battlefield echoed from a short distance away, but his head was still buzzing from the impact of his earlier fall. His ankle still ached with a sharp pain and he could barely walk without limping. He knew he was not in any condition to climb back up the slope to fight. All he could do was hope his men would survive.

"Your name?" The captain asked casually.

"Dario Ruiz, commander of the 3rd column for the 26th of July Movement," Dario replied in a formal tone, maintaining a rigid posture. There was imaginary barrier between them that he tried not to cross.

"I am Captain Rodrigo Casillas of the 2nd Company of Battalion 18. Nice to meet you, Dario," he said rather jovially. 

"Nice to meet you," Dario managed to say, feeling weird about it.

"I know all about you rebels' tactic of letting captured soldiers go. It's been all the talk around the common soldiery in the army."

"I see." Dario's shoulder relaxed. "Is it working?"

Rodrigo shrugged. "Well, perhaps you have gathered much sympathy for your cause, but there's still a tight grip on the soldiers by the upper class officers. Deserters are usually shot, so no one dares to disobey any orders."