A Japanese man escapes from the stricken green Humvee. He lies below the crest of the crater. The crash has mangled his body. Dirt and blood streak down his burned and charred face.
He gathers the last of his strength and pulls himself up over the crater's lip. He rests his M16 on his hip and staggers forward. His stagger turns into a walk. His walk turns into a trot. His trot turns into a suicide attack run. He charges toward the American container.
Of the three Japanese left alive in the crater, two of them have dragged out a mortar from inside the Humvee. Their broken bodies struggle to set up the heavy gun.
The other is an old woman. Her legs have been crushed under the weight of the large truck. She is pinned down and barely alive.
Above her, resting on a small lip of dirt is a green case. It remains just out of her reach. Like her, the case has been thrown clear of the Humvee.
The woman strains and reaches out for the case. Her fingertips just manage to touch it and turn it toward her. She sees that it has five random code numbers etched on its side.
The case is only three feet away from her, but it might as well be three miles away. With a last dying effort, she scrapes away some of the dirt below the case. The case moves slightly. Again she claws at the dirt. The case dislodges and slips down the side of the crater and tips open. One hundred million dollars of bundled ten-thousand-dollar bills spill out over her. Her eyes grow wide. Her pupils dull, then cloud over. Her breathing stops. She dies rich.
***
Matt takes a deep breath. "Here goes nothing."
He puts his head down and charges toward the Americans' Humvee.
"Go, Matt, go," Jedi yells, as if he's cheering a football player's touchdown.
"I'm fucking going." Matt reaches the Humvee and jumps into the rear compartment. He grabs a medic kit and slides over to Nevada.
"Hey, doll, how you doing?" Matt pants.
"Hey, Matt, good to see—you. I'm doing real good," Nevada whispers, gasping after each word. "How you doing?"
"Hey, you know—the glass is always half full."
Nevada smiles weakly. "Sure it is." She is deathly pale. Her skin is clammy. Her body sits in a pool of blood.
Matt grits his teeth and rips open a dressing from the first aid kit. He ties the bandage around the top of her thigh, pulling it tight.
"ARRRRGHHHHH!" Nevada screams out.
"Be brave for me now—I gotta stop the bleeding. See?" Matt says.
Nevada drifts in and out of consciousness.
"You gotta stay awake for me. Nevada. NEVADA."
Nevada's eyes open. "Sure, Matt, for sure." She closes her eyes again. Her head slumps forward.
Lloyd moans. His eyes are closed.
Matt looks over at him, then rummages around in the medic kit. He finds a large wound dressing and tosses it to him.
Matt shouts, "LLOYD!"
The dressing hits Lloyd's head and falls down next to him. He opens his eyes.
"You got to help yourself." Matt nods over at the dressing. "I'm helping the girl."
Lloyd picks up the bandage and presses it onto his gaping shoulder wound. "She saved my life out there."
