Chapter 17: Hot Box Opened

In the tense standoff near the ruined church, the atmosphere was thick with danger. Franklin, hidden within a crate, frantically spread weed around himself, trying to use every resource at his disposal for an improvised distraction. From his vantage point, he watched in horror as Sumi, who had run out from her hiding place, was quickly captured along with Bach by the soldiers surrounding the area. They were dragged before the commander, where Goh was already a prisoner, visibly in agony.

The commander, a figure of towering anger and impatience, flicked his cigar into the dirt and ground it under his heel. "Ahhh, we find all these useless stragglers. Where is my boy? Where is Franklin! Tell me, little one," he demanded, staring intently at the terrified Sumi.

Sumi, her face streaked with tears, was crying uncontrollably. Beside her, Bach shook his head, his expression one of despair and helplessness. The commander's attention then turned sharply towards him, his voice menacing as he aimed his gun at Sumi's head. "Alright old man. Tell me where he is and I won't do what I did to your leg to her face."

Goh, despite his severe injuries, showed a moment of desperate courage. He dragged himself across the ground, gripping the commander's leg. "Please sir, don't do this... I really don't know where he is!" His voice was strained, filled with pain and fear.

Unsatisfied with Goh's response, the commander coldly fired the gun beside Sumi's head, the loud blast echoing through the area, a brutal reminder of his seriousness. "Yes, but you do, don't you? Weren't you with him just earlier? Tell us, father," he prodded Bach further.

In a moment of critical decision, Bach, realizing there might be no way out with stealth, shouted towards the crates, trying to protect Franklin by surrendering to the inevitable. "Franklin! You can come out now! There's no use in fighting back! You're putting us all in danger!"

From his hiding place, Franklin stood up, realizing the gravity of the moment required action. He grasped the lighter and the makeshift Molotov cocktail he had prepared—a last desperate measure. With a look of determination etched across his face, he shouted back at his friends and captors, "Run!"

As the word left his mouth, he ignited the Molotov cocktail, ready to create a diversion that would either grant them a chance to escape or end his own run from the consequences that had chased him since the war began. In this critical moment, every second counted, and every action could mean the difference between life and death for him and his companions.

Franklin's desperate gamble paid off more spectacularly than he could have imagined. As the Molotov cocktail arced through the air and crashed into the weapons crate, a fierce blaze erupted almost instantly. The commander, his face twisting into an expression of sheer horror, caught sight of the briefcase marked "classified" perilously close to the burgeoning inferno.

With no time to spare, Franklin lunged away from the explosive danger just as the flames ignited the grenades stored within the crate. A thunderous explosion rocked the area, sending debris and shockwaves through the air.

"Secure the briefcase!" shouted a soldier, his voice sharp with urgency. The order snapped the soldiers to action, but their movements were clumsy and panicked. They rushed towards the burning pile, stomping and beating at the flames in a desperate attempt to salvage what they could.

The scene became chaotic with close-up shots capturing the smoke billowing into the soldiers' faces. As they inhaled the thick weed smoke from the burning stash Franklin had spread earlier, their efforts became increasingly ineffectual. Coughs racked their bodies, and their eyes reddened and watered, making it difficult for them to see or focus.

Meanwhile, Goh, assisted by Bach, staggered to his feet. Seizing the moment of distraction, they made their escape with Sumi in tow. Franklin, too, was seen in the distance, his figure darting away from the mayhem.

The commander, witnessing the escape and the futile efforts of his men, roared in frustration. "No, you slosh buckets! They're getting away!" His command fell on deaf ears, as his soldiers, now visibly affected by the smoke, continued their struggle against the fire.

One soldier, his speech slurred and demeanor decidedly lax from the effects of the smoke, responded with unexpected insubordination. "Sir, respectfully, none of us are concerned with that right now. You know that if we don't retrieve that briefcase, all of us will be hanged."

Ignoring the chaos around him, the commander took matters into his own hands. With a fury borne of desperation, he stomped through the flames, moving with a speed and determination that his subordinates lacked. He reached into the heart of the fire, his hands searching through the heat and smoke until they closed around the handle of the vital briefcase.

Breathing heavily, smoke swirling around him, the commander retrieved the briefcase from the fiery wreckage. Despite the chaos, the heat, and the intoxicating fumes, he managed to secure the document that seemed to hold so much importance. His face, streaked with soot and sweat, was set in a grimace of triumph mixed with rage as he contemplated the cost of this day's battle and the loyalty of his men.

After heaving the briefcase to one of the few coherent soldiers left, the commander scanned the horizon for Goh. Spotting him far in the distance, he waved urgently at his troops to rally and pursue, but his commands fell on deaf ears. The soldiers lay scattered about, incapacitated by the potent mix of smoke and exhaustion, some snoring, others groaning and rolling in the grass.

With a mixture of frustration and disbelief, the commander rolled his reddened eyes. Realizing he was on his own, he stumbled up the hill towards Goh, driven by sheer determination.

Meanwhile, Goh, with Bach's assistance, had just reached the safety of the woods. As he leaned against a tree to catch his breath, the commander appeared, breathless and irate.

"You thought I was just going to leave you?" the commander sneered, pointing his gun unsteadily at Sumi, who quickly hid behind Goh. The commander's aim wavered as he struggled to keep his eyes open, the redness and the smoke having taken their toll.

"Don't. You. Dare," Goh growled, his voice thick with disdain.

"Or what?" the commander laughed mockingly, not perceiving any real threat in his current state.

Goh's response was cryptic. "I wasn't talking to you."

At that moment, Franklin emerged from hiding, using the element of surprise to his advantage. With a swift and forceful motion, he slammed Goh's teapot onto the back of the commander's head. The impact sent the commander tumbling to the ground, knocked out cold, with the contents of the teapot spilling across his uniform.

"My wife! Oh, you vile demon. Why are you so set on ruining me?" Goh exclaimed, mistakenly thinking Franklin had deliberately smashed the teapot.

"We don't have time for this. I just saved you and your daughter's life. Let's get out of here," Franklin urged, trying to keep the situation under control and prevent further misunderstandings.

As Goh turned to swing at him, his strength failed, and he collapsed to the ground, overcome by pain and the loss of blood. Franklin quickly leaned over to check on him, finding Goh unconscious, a grim reminder of the brutal events they had endured.

With the commander incapacitated and Goh unconscious, Franklin knew they had to move quickly. He glanced back at Sumi and Bach, signaling them to follow as they prepared to leave the scene before more soldiers could arrive or the commander regained consciousness. The urgency of their escape was palpable, and every second counted as they navigated the dangers of their harrowing situation.