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Martyrs to Freedom.

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This story is No. 3 in the series "Willow and Kennedy; The Untold Story.". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Set post 'Chosen'.Heading home from South America, Kennedy and Willow stop off in the Central American Republic of Choluteca and get themselves involved in a revolutionary war.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Miscellaneous > Music(Recent Donor)DaveTurnerFR181244,4512144,32214 Apr 0818 Apr 08Yes

Chapter Twelve.

Chapter Twelve,

Kennedy watched as a ragged circle of nervous soldiers formed around herself and Willow. Not for the first time she wished she was by herself and didn’t have to worry about Willow’s safety. Alone she could fight her way out, but with Willow to look after there would be no chance. Frowning Kennedy carefully laid her MP5 on the floor and raised her hands; following her girlfriend’s lead Willow lifted her own hands. Glancing aside Kennedy saw two soldiers drag Tim, the BBC man, down the stairs and push him over to join the two women.

An officer in a well tailored uniform approached the little group and directed most of the soldiers to return to their posts, he studied the three captives almost as closely as Kennedy studied him. She saw a man in his late forties, a bit overweight and balding. His well tailored uniform was stained with dust and soot; he held an automatic pistol loosely in his right hand.

“Why are you here?” He demanded looking into each of their faces in turn.

“What’s he saying?” Willow glanced in Kennedy’s direction, the fear and worry evident in her voice.

“He said…” began Kennedy only to be interrupted by Tim.

“SORRY! WHAT WAS THAT, OLD BOY?” Tim held a hand to his ear as he yelled at the officer, “SORRY, I’VE GONE A BIT MUTT AND JEFF!”

Kennedy turned to look at Tim and mouthed the words ‘Mutt and Jeff’? Moments later realisation dawned on her, Mutt and Jeff, deaf; rhyming slang. She smiled to herself and translated the officer’s question. Kennedy had only just started to speak when the officer interrupted her; she was starting to get fed up of people butting in every time she opened her mouth.

“You are American?” The recognition on the officer’s face was plain to see, “I speak English, I studied aboard when I was younger.”

Willow watched the officer as Kennedy tried to answer his questions without getting them all shot, she got the impression that he either knew, or, knew of Kennedy, seconds later her suspicions where confirmed.

“You are the ‘Lady in Black’.” It was more of a statement than a question, “The patrol you handed my daughter over to gave quite a detailed description of you…put your hands down.” The officer smiled kindly at Kennedy, but was still suspicious of her motives.

Relieved the three put there hands down, Willow continued to try and figure out what this General fellow wanted she needed to know what he was thinking. He was concentrating most of his questions on Kennedy. He’d realised that Tim was deaf and for some reason he appeared to discount Willow, for a moment she felt a little put out at being ignored, but then she thought she could use it to her advantage. Looking down at the floor Willow muttered the words of a spell under her breath and looked into the General’s mind.

“The question I must ask myself, Senorita DeSilver is, just who do you work for?” Herrera regarded Kennedy intently awaiting her answer.

“Have you ever heard of the Watchers Council?” Kennedy had decided to tell the truth, a lie was likely to get them into even deeper trouble.

“No.” Herrera shook his head.

“Well that’s who we work for,” explained Kennedy, “Except Tim here…he works for the BBC.”

“Not the CIA then?” Herrera grinned and nodded his head as if in thought.

“US?” Kennedy tried to project an air of innocence, “CIA? No never.”

“DID YOU TELL HIM YOU WORK FOR THE CIA?” yelled Tim turning a puzzled frown on Kennedy

“You want to end the war!” Willow blurted out and pointed at the General, “You want it all to stop but you can’t think of a way to do it without causing more bloodshed.”

Herrera turned to look at the woman who looked like a frightened red haired mouse to him; that had been exactly what he had been thinking for the last few hours.

“We can help.” The words almost tripped over themselves in their hurry to get out of Willow’s mouth. “You need some one whom both sides can trust…or distrust if you see what I mean?”

“So,” Herrera tried not to let the hope show on his face, “how do you propose we achieve this miracle?”


Kennedy watched as the rebel officer approached from across the rubble strewn plaza. She saw that although he wore a proper uniform it was smeared with what looked like soot and blood as well as dust and general filth. He marched up to her smartly; stopping no more than two paces away and saluted, Kennedy found herself at a loss at how to return the compliment.

“I am Colonel Pedro Delgado,” announced the young officer, “Chief of the Revolutionary Army, and you are?”

“Senorita Kennedy DeSilver,” Realising that just stating her name didn’t sound very impressive she added, “El Asesino del Vampiros,” Seeing the puzzled expression on Delgado’s face she added airily, “It’s an ancient title in my family.” Which was no more than the truth. “General Herrera wishes to arrange a ceasefire in order to bring a rapid end to hostilities.” Explained Kennedy before Delgado could ask anymore questions.

“Herrera!” Delgado laughed the sound coming out of his mouth like a bark, “That bloody bastard? What does El Cerdo want?”

El Cerdo? Kennedy’s mind searched for the correct translation, after moment she smiled to herself ‘The Pig’, it sort of suited the general. Pushing these thoughts to the back of her mind she replied formally.

“As I’ve said,” Kennedy looked the rebel officer in the eye and willed him to agree, “He wishes an end to the fighting so that peace talks can start.”

“I don’t know.” Delgado rubbed his chin with his hand, “How do I know I can trust him?”

“Oh come on!” exploded Kennedy, almost throwing the white flag on to the ground but stopping herself at the last moment. “You’re going to stand here arguing with me while people are dieing all ‘round? Of course you don’t know if you can trust him, he doesn’t know if he can trust you.”

“But we can win without any ceasefire.” Replied Delgado hotly.

“You sure of that?” Kennedy felt certain she saw a flicker of doubt on the colonel’s face, “The general thinks he can win too, but he still wants to talk…come on, Colonel, let’s stop all this.” Pleaded Kennedy.

Delgado watched Kennedy from under furrowed brows, his chin still in his hand, what had he to lose?

“Okay, what does the general suggest?” He asked eventually.

“General Herrera suggests that there is a…what did he call it?” Kennedy thought for a moment, she smiled. “A ‘halt’ in place, and general ceasefire until…” Again Kennedy paused to think. “Zero-six-hundred tomorrow morning.”

“It will take a little time to get these instructions to all our forces.” Delgado explained slowly.

“Not a problem.” Kennedy breathed a sigh of relief.

“Then what?”

“Umm sorry?” Kennedy shook her head and ordered her thoughts, “Oh yes…General Herrera suggests that yourself, an aide and a small security detail…like half a dozen men, meet him here in half an hour…agreed?” Kennedy smiled hopefully.

“Agreed!” Delgado stood to attention and saluted Kennedy again, “You are either a very brave woman or the best liar in the world.”

“Trust me,” replied Kennedy earnestly, “I’m not lying…half an hour then?”

“Half an hour,” agreed Delgado before turning on his heel and marching back to his own lines.


Jesus Mendoza looked across the gardens of the villa he had made his headquarters and imagined his triumphal progress into San Sebastian. The smoke from his cigar curled up to the clear blue sky as his minds eye saw the cheering, waving crowds as they threw flowers over his car. He saw the soldiers lining the street or in formation at the Plaza del San Sebastian in front of El Viejo Palacio. He smiled as he imagined his enemies being lined up against the wall of the palace and shot.

He was happier today that at anytime in his life, all the long years of struggle would soon be over, his glazed eyes saw the joyous multitude chanting his name as he waved from the great balcony over looking the plaza. He would smile and wave and the people would go wild with joy. But it wouldn’t all be joy and happiness; he needed to ruthlessly root out the last vestiges of El Supremo’s corrupt rule. Make sure the right men got to be in the right jobs, and he would have to make sure that none of his erstwhile allies got any ideas above their station.

That man Delgado would need watching for one, he was far too clever; he might start to think he could do a better job of running the country and that would never do. Jesus was already suspicious at Delgado’s motives because the officer had insisted on taking all of Jesus’ radios. He had claimed that the combat units needed them more than Mendoza’s headquarters; maybe it was a plan to isolate him from the capital so Delgado could seize power in the wake of the victory that he had supplied! Turning at the sound of footsteps behind him he turned to see one of his political flunkies walk across the patio towards him.

“El Presidente!” called the man as he approached.

“What is it, Manuel?” Jesus crushed the remains of his cigar under his boot as the aide handed him a message form.

Unfolding the paper and reading quickly Jesus gasped, then screwed up the message and threw it away in anger. It was as he had feared Delgado had betrayed him; that swine of a soldier had stopped the attack on the capital and had entered into peace negotiations with El Supremo and his lackeys. Not only was this against his express orders it was treason of the highest order, he must get to the capital and stop this at once.

“Get my car ready,” barked Jesus, “have it brought to the front of the villa, and tell my personal guards I am moving on to the capital.”

“Si, El Presidente.” Manuel turned away to deal with his master’s orders but hesitated, “El Presidente,…what do you want to do with the owner of the villa?”

“KILL HIM!” screamed Jesus. “Stop bothering me with minor details.”

“Of course, El Presidente.” Manuel backed himself out of the presidential presence bowing low.

Jesus wept with frustration, why was he surrounded by traitors? Why couldn’t people see that he knew best? Why couldn’t they get on with their jobs and stop bothering him with the unimportant and mundane? He wondered why the voices that had guided him remained silent; they had not spoken for hours…why had they forsaken him?


The two delegations eyed each other warily across the table set up in front of El Viejo Palacio. It looked as if neither side would make the first move towards peace. Finally Colonel Delgado broke the deadlock by falling back on military protocol.

“General.” Delgado saluted the government officer.

“Colonel.” Herrera returned the Colonel’s salute. “Shall we take a seat and get on with this?”

The two sides sat down and faced each other suspiciously across the table, Willow sat down on a chair at the head of the table so she could act as chair for the meeting. At first Herrera requested for Kennedy to take the chair, but she demurred saying that Willow was the clever one and much better suited to this sort of work; she would merely sit in the background and observe. After introductions were made General Herrera coughed to attract everyone’s attention.

“Senora Chairwoman?” Herrera glanced over at Willow, “It may help the proceedings along if I started by clarifying the government position.”

Willow looked at Delgado to see if he had any objections; the Colonel shrugged his shoulders and gestured for the General to continue.

“The Chair recognises General Herrera.” Announced Willow formally, she couldn’t help but think that if this wasn’t so serious this was like, really great fun! All these important people asking her if they could speak, she hid her grin behind her hand.

“Gentlemen…and Ladies,” Herrera nodded towards Willow and Kennedy, “I think it’s safe to assume that everyone here wants a secession of hostilities?” The General looked around the table, no one appeared eager to continue the fight. “In that case the Government forces are willing to surrender on the following terms…”

The General outlined several terms mainly ensuring that no reprisals be taken against members of the National Guard or government officials, who had only been obeying the orders of their superiors.

“…and finally,” concluded the General, “All National Guard officers are to be allowed to resign their commissions and leave the country if they so desire, and that the new government makes no effort to hinder them or trace them at any future date.”

For a moment there was a stunned silence around the table, Willow closed her mouth with a snap before turning to Delgado.

“Colonel?” She prompted.

“That is a very generous offer General,” Delgado glanced at the officers on either side of him they nodded their heads cautiously. “What about El Supremo?”

“El Supremo is dead.” replied Herrera shortly; there were gasps from the rebel side of the table.

“You’re sure?” asked Major Jimenez, one of Delgado’s aids.

“Of course,” Herrera couldn’t help but smile, “I shot him myself.” Again there was a stunned silence.

“And the Security Police?” This from Captain Garza, the rebel Chief of Scouts.

“I think,” Colonel Santiago the General’s Chief of Staff explained, “You’ll find most of them are dead, killed in the fighting.” Colonel Santiago placed a thick file on the table and pushed it towards Delgado. “This contains the names, photographs and records of the ‘worst’ offenders if any of them should have survived…I would suggest that you leave any others in peace to rebuild their lives the best they can.”

“What do you want for yourself, General?” Delgado wanted to know, “By any civilised estimation you are a war criminal and should be brought to justice.”

Herrera shrugged and held out his hands, “As an officer of the National Guard you should let me resign, but if you want you can claim I died in the fighting, either way I suggest you let me leave the country.”

“Why would I do that General?” Delgado asked.

“Because,” the General looked at his wrist watch, “unless I confirm the ‘Halt Order’ by radio in about fifteen minutes time the Presidential Guard Armoured Battlegroup will smash into your rear echelon units and destroy them before turning on your assault forces. Your men will be caught between my reserves and the forces I have entrenched in the city. I’m willing to bet that your men have neither the weapons nor ammunition for such a battle.” The General leant across the table and stared into Delgado’s eyes, “You have won the war, Colonel…be generous and grasp the prize. After all in the greater scheme of things just how important am I? What good would it do to have me put on trial?”

Delgado leant towards Major Jimenez who whispered frantically in his ear, next he turned to Captain Garza who shrugged resignedly before saying.

“What does it matter, Colonel?” The Scout grinned evilly, “One hanging more or less?” Delgado still looked undecided.

“Time is passing, Colonel.” Herrera looked pointedly at his watch.

Kennedy watched Willow closely ready to pounce if she ruined everything by launching into some lecture on justice and law, she could have a hand over Willow’s mouth in a fraction of a second. Her muscles tensed as Willow opened her mouth.

“Gentlemen,” Willow began a little uncertainly, “If you don’t mind me saying it sounds like a pretty good deal,” Everyone turned to stare at Willow almost making her clam up with embarrassment. “L-look you got a choice…let a few guilty men escape justice or allow hundreds more to die.”

“Okay,” Sighed Delgado, “We agree to all the government’s terms.”

There was a quiet cheer from all those around the table, Kennedy leant over to Willow and hugged her.

“What’s that for?” Willow returned Kennedy’s embrace, “not that I mind of course.”

Kennedy held Willow to her, “Because you’re you and you keep surprising me that’s all.”


Tim sat and watched as everyone stood around shaking hands and slapping each other on the back, he had no idea what was going on, he’d not heard a word of the proceedings, he didn’t even know if everyone had been speaking in Spanish or English. He tapped Kennedy on the shoulder; she broke away from Willow and turned to smile questioningly at him.

“I say, Kennedy old thing,” Tim looked around himself in confusion, he was sure something momentous had happened, but he was damned if he knew what, “what the hell’s been going on?”


While their staffs arranged the practical arrangements for bringing the war to a halt, Willow, Kennedy, General Herrera and Colonel Delgado walked out of earshot of the other officers.

“So,” Willow wanted to know, “who’s going to be in charge while elections are organised?”

“Elections?” queried Herrera.

“You don’t want that madman Mendoza in charge.” Delgado replied fervently, “It would be like exchanging one El Supremo for another…only worse.”

“Yes what will you do about Mendoza?” The General wanted to know.

“It will be very sad,” Delgado took off his hat as if in mourning, “An unfortunate ‘friendly fire’ incident. Struck down tragically at his moment of victory…”

“Yes,” agreed Herrera with a sly grin, “Tragic indeed.”

“But you can’t…!” Willow burst out just before Kennedy kicked her ankle, “…Ow!”

“We mustn’t interfere, Willow.” Kennedy glared warningly at Willow.

“But who?” Herrera raised a questioning eyebrow.

“It can’t be anyone from the old days.” pointed out Delgado.

“Of course not,” Herrera nodded his head, he looked at Delgado, “You?”

“NO!” Delgado took a step away from the little group, “Never… I might accept a temporary post in a new government but Presidente…I could never…”

The group lapsed into silence. Delgado looked around and his eye fell on a soldier he recognised.

“It would be best if whoever was Presidente was unconnected with anything that has passed,” mused the Colonel, “in fact if he was an unwilling participant it would be even better, yes?”

“I suppose so.” shrugged Herrera.

“Why does it have to be a man?” Willow asked just before Kennedy kicked her ankle again, “Ow! Stop doing that!” Willow rubbed her ankle.

“Then I have just the man.” Colonel Delgado turned to the soldier and called, “You soldier!” The man turned to look at the officers, “You with the radio…come here.”


Ernesto made his way over to where the two officers and the two gringo women stood. He had been given the radio to carry when his officer had found out that he was an educated man and he could speak English.

“Si Senors, Senoritas,” Ernesto sketched a hasty salute, “Can I be of service?”

“More than you can imagine.” The two officers smiled and Ernesto had the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

“You can’t…OW! Kennedy stop doing that!” Ernesto watched as the red haired gringo woman limped off and sat down on the palace steps.

“What’s your name?” The dark haired gringo woman asked him kindly; Ernesto ran his finger around his collar nervously

“Ernesto Torres.” replied Ernesto, he wondered what these important people wanted him to do that he wouldn’t want to do.

“And where are you from, Ernesto?” Ernesto recognised the rebel officer as the man who had spoken to him that night…was it really only the day before?

“Del Monte Senor.” Replied Ernesto uneasily.

“How do you feel about helping your country, Ernesto?” asked the older Government officer earnestly.

It only took them a mere five minutes to wear Ernesto down before he reluctantly agreed; after all they said it was only for a short time, all he’d have to do was sign things and make the occasional decision, nothing too difficult, and it would help put the country back on its feet again.

“So what do you say, Ernesto?” Colonel Delgado asked him eventually.

Ernesto looked around at all the people who were expecting so much of him, he would have to put off going home for awhile, maybe he could bring his wife to the capital…she would like that.

“Will it be alright for my wife to join me?” Ernesto asked haltingly.

“Of course.” nodded Delgado smiling.

“Okay,” sighed Ernesto reluctantly, “I will be temporary Presidente.”


“NO!” Willow sprang to her feet and rushed over to the group, “Kennedy, you kick me once more and you’ll spend the next week as a frog okay?” Kennedy stepped away and held her hands up in surrender. “You can’t just brow beat someone into being President.”

“Why not?” asked Delgado, “Look, Senorita, Ernesto Torres - the man from Del Monte, has said ‘yes’ in front of witnesses, so it is out of your hands.”

“But…!” Willow turned to Herrera for support.

“Don’t ask me,” shrugged the older officer, “I died in the fighting,” he looked at his watch and then back at Delgado. “And I really should be going; my staff can help you more than I could anyway.” He turned to Ernesto and saluted, “El Presidente,” he turned back to Delgado, “Colonel.” The two men exchanged salutes before Herrera walked off into the palace.

“What…but…you can’t.” Willow’s mouth opened and closed but no sound came out.

“We can,” pointed out Delgado, “and we have…there is really nothing else for you to say…”

Willow swung back her hair. “Now hold on, buster!”

Kennedy cringed as she watched Willow’s roots go black and tiny flashes of lightning played around the tips of her fingers.

“Now look here.” Willow waved a finger under Delgado’s nose. “I represent a very powerful and influential organisation,” lightning arced from Willow’s finger to the tip of Delgado’s nose. “And I have a couple of demands to make.”

Kennedy buried her face in her hands; this could all go very badly wrong if Delgado said the wrong thing.

“And what are your demands, Senorita?” asked El Presidente knocking Willow back on her heels. “And I would appreciate it if you didn’t threaten my Secretary of Defence.”

“Oh,” Willow looked from Delgado to the President, all the fight seemed to have left her. “Its not so much demands as recommendations…” Willow’s hair returned to red and the lightening vanished from her finger tips.

“Go on.” El Presidente Torres gestured for Willow to continue.

“Umm…well.” Willow seemed lost for words, she hadn’t expected Ernesto to take on his new role so quickly; she realised that she was just as guilty of manipulating people as the two military officers, Willow looked pleadingly at Kennedy.

“What Senorita Rosenberg means,” Kennedy stepped forward, “We would suggest that you totally destroy El Viejo Palacio. Make it into a nice garden commemorating the dead of both sides. Whatever you do don’t run the country from there…”

“I had no intention of doing so,” El Presidente nodded his head, “It holds too many dark memories for my people…and your other ‘demand’?”

Kennedy looked at Willow, she really had no idea what her girlfriend wanted. The evil thing was destroyed. The locals had agreed and even seemed eager to knock down the palace that had been Evil’s home for so long…what more did Willow want?

“Elections El Presidente,” Willow had found her voice again, “My organisation would like an assurance that free and fare elections will be held in…?”

“Would eighteen months be acceptable?” El Presidente Ernesto asked, “I have no wish to stay in this job any longer than necessary; after all I have a business to look after at home.”


One Week Later.

Willow looked up from the suitcase she was packing and smiled as Kennedy joined her by the bed, this was to be their last day in Choluteca.

“Let me.” Kennedy took over the task of forcing the suitcase’s lid closed from a struggling Willow. Using her slayer strength Kennedy got the lid shut and locked, “Senor Ortega has sent a car to collect us and take us to the airport.”

“That’s nice of him.” Willow sat down on the edge of the bed she looked around the room distractedly.

Both women had noticed the changes since the end of the civil war. The people were obviously happier now, but they were also more industrious than before, you just had to look around the hotel. True the building still showed the scars from the fighting, but workmen had already started to repair the worst of the damage. It was the little things that the two Americans noticed most. The maids were more conscientious about cleaning the room everyday; the waiters and waitresses took your order and brought your meals quickly and efficiently now as if they enjoyed helping their customers. Someone had even dusted and stopped the chandelier in reception from spinning, and the phones in the rooms worked again.

“We better get the cases down stairs.” Kennedy took hold of the suitcases and started to move them towards the door.

“No need,” Willow reached over for the phone, the hotel now boasted an English speaking telephonist, “I’ll call for a porter.”

After making the call Willow patted the bed beside her, “Come and sit down I need to talk.”

“If it’s about me kicking your ankles I’ve said I’m sorry,” Kennedy sat down next to Willow.

“No it’s not that,” Willow sub-consciously rubbed her ankle, “Its about what we should tell Buffy and Giles…I mean we’ve done some stuff here that we really shouldn’t have got involved in…”

“Like a civil war?” Kennedy asked, Willow sighed and nodded her head. “I don’t really think we have to tell them everything…” Willow looked at Kennedy disbelievingly, unperturbed Kennedy explained, “Look we did what we came here to do, right? We made contact with the local Watcher, we found the local slayer; and I’d rather Buffy didn’t find out I had to kill her. Then we took out the Big Bad who was messing with the minds of nearly everyone in the country…so what’s more to tell?”

“Dead slayer sweetie,” Willow patted Kennedy’s leg, “I know you had to do it but…”

“But what?” Kennedy held on to her temper, this was no time to start an argument, “She was under the control of the big bad, she was going to kill the kid and she tried to kill me. I tried to talk her out of it and she shot at me.”

“Yeah I suppose you’re right,” Willow’s shoulders sagged.

“Of course I’m right.” replied Kennedy firmly, maybe one day she’d have to tell Buffy or Giles what had actually happened here; but not just yet. “Where are we off to next?”

“Mexico City.” Willow didn’t sound very enthusiastic, “Kennedy, I don’t think I can go on with this much more. I need a rest…this is too much for just the two of us.”

“Don’t worry,” Kennedy put her arm around a flagging Willow, “I’ve heard that Mexico is fairly organised, watcher and slayer wise. So all we’ll have to do is meet a few people, I can slay a few vamps and then we can go to the coast and work on our tans, how does that sound? I mean I’ve got credit cards I’ve hardly used!”

Willow leant against Kennedy and smiled tiredly, “Yeah that would be nice.” A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts of sun, sea and sand.

“Porter!” came a voice from outside the room.

“Come on,” Kennedy pulled Willow to her feet and steered her towards the door, “Let’s shake the dust of Choluteca from our feet and get on that plane.”

“Yeah let’s.”


The Nicaraguan border guard looked up as the jeep approached his check point. Putting on his sunglasses and cap he walked out into the open as the vehicle stopped at the barrier across the road. More refugees from Choluteca, he mused, since the end of the neighbouring countries civil war there had been a steady flow of people leaving that accursed place, obviously people who had backed the wrong side.

Adjusting his rifle into a more comfortable position he walked slowly towards the jeep. It was an old American model but looked in good condition. It carried a middle aged man, who sat behind the steering wheel, next to him sat an attractive woman a good twenty years the man’s junior. The guard smile lasciviously and held out his hand.

“Passport.” he ordered.

The woman handed over the documents haughtily; the guard thumbed through the pages and looked at the pictures. The passports claimed that the couple were Senor and Senora Nunez travelling with their daughter Isabell. The guard looked into the back of the jeep and sure enough there was a little girl asleep amongst the luggage. Handing the passports back to the woman he waved them through the check point. He had not been given any orders to stop anyone coming out of Choluteca, and he doubted the couple would cause any trouble with the child along. After watching the jeep disappear up the road the guard lit a cigarette and walked slowly back to his hut.


The driver put Willow and Kennedy’s cases inside the terminal building, with a smile and a nod he left the two women to wait for there flight. Kennedy moved to pick up their bags but was stopped by a youth who loaded everything onto a rickety old trolley and wheeled it over to departure gate.

Walking over to the customs desk they had to walk around the women who scrubbed at the blood stains on the floor and the men who were busily filling in the bullet holes in the walls or who painted the walls with whitewash. At the custom’s desk two soldiers, one in the uniform of the old National Guard and the other still in his rebel uniform argued over who would stamp their passports. It was all so different from their arrival; for a start no one was shooting anyone.

Eventually they were escorted to the same old DC3 that they had arrived on. Their luggage was put aboard and a young woman in what passed for a stewardess’ uniform greeted them at the steps and ushered them aboard. Willow sat back in her seat as the aircraft picked up speed and bounced down the runway; she reached over and took hold of Kennedy’s hand.

“You know,” she shouted over the noise of the engines, “I never used to be worried about flying until I got on this thing. Now I don’t think I’ve ever want to fly again…except when I’m doing it…”

With a final bounce the aircraft was airborne and the noise from the engines started to decrease, Kennedy said nothing as she watched the ground slip away. Eventually the aircraft turned northwards and headed for Nicaragua.

“I guess I was half expecting someone to come and see us off.” Said Kennedy wistfully, “You know we did help with the peace talks and all, you’d think…”

“No,” replied Willow firmly, “People rarely say ‘thanks’. Pull them from the jaws of a demon and they try to sue you for ‘whiplash’ or something.” Willow sighed wearily, “That’s why we were always such a tight knit group, I think if someone ever said ‘thank-you’ I’d faint clean away.”

Kennedy smiled at Willow’s sad frown before kissing her on the end of her nose.

“Well screw them! We’ve won, yay for us!” Kennedy cried, “Who needs medals? I’ve got you and that’s enough, right?”

“Right.” agreed Willow, that was all she needed…for now.



The Knife.

Tell me my life is about to begin
Tell me that I am a hero,
Promise me all of your violent dreams
Light up your body with anger.
Now, in this ugly world
It is time to destroy all this evil.
Now, when I give the word
Get ready to fight for your freedom
Now -

Stand up and fight, for you know we are right
We must strike at the lies
That have spread like disease through our minds.
Soon we'll have power, every soldier will rest
And we'll spread out our kindness
To all who our love now deserve.
Some of you are going to die -
Martyrs of course to the freedom that I shall provide.

I'll give you the names of those you must kill,
All must die with their children.
Carry their heads to the palace of old,
Hang them high, let the blood flow.
Now, in this ugly world
break all the chains around us,
Now, the crusade has begun
give us a land fit for heroes,
Now -

Stand up and fight, for you know we are right
We must strike at the lies
That have spread like disease through our minds.
Soon we'll have power, every soldier will rest
And we'll spread out our kindness
To all who our love now deserve.
Some of you are going to die -
Martyrs of course to the freedom that I shall provide.

We are only wanting freedom
We are only wanting freedom
We are only wanting freedom
We are only wanting freedom ("Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom...")
We are only wanting freedom ("Things are getting out of control here today")
We are only wanting freedom ("OK men - fire over their heads!")
We are only wanting freedom

--- WE HAVE WON ---

Some of you are going to die,
Martyrs of course to the freedom that I shall provide.

The End

You have reached the end of "Martyrs to Freedom.". This story is complete.

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