“Yes. Talk to DeWitt?”
“The head man, yes. Tell him that the driver knows what he’s supposed to do, where to go. He’ll take some back roads so we’ll be harder to find. They will be looking for us, especially after it gets light. But we should be near the border before then. Can you tell Mr. DeWitt that?”
“You just did, Yasmin. Did you copy that, J.G.?”
“Roger that, Kat. I want everyone to check weapons and be sure you have full magazines. We could find some more trouble before we hit the friendly lands.”
“Have the driver tell you where we are now and then,” Kat said into the mike. “We can’t see anything from back here.”
A few seconds later the radio earpiece came on again. “You folks in the cheap seats,” DeWitt said. “We are now about five miles past the last turnoff to Damascus. We will stay on the back roads for another half hour, then hit the main highway south and make some time. More report later. Thank you for flying with Syrian Motor Transport.”
Murdock moved over by Yasmin. “What are the odds that we’ll get all the way without a roadblock or traffic check?”
“Not good. The Army does a lot of checking just to have something to do. No war to fight, so we civilians become the target.”
“What kind of roadblocks do they use?”
“I’ve seen them with big trucks all the way across a street or a road. No way to bust through or go around. They get clever putting them in single-access areas.”
Murdock had been holding his mike out to pick up what Yasmin said. “You hear that, DeWitt?”
“Every syllable. We’re watching all the time. If we spot a block quickly enough, we will try to go around it. Might work. Otherwise we’ll just have to blast through it. Will keep in touch.”
“Do that.” Murdock stretched out on the floor. “Good time for a half-hour nap. By then we might be busy again.”
It turned out to be forty-five minutes before they hit trouble.
“We’re on the main highway south,” DeWitt said on the net. “Two lanes each way. Looks like trouble coming up. Lots of lights, some pointing our way. Headlights. Trucks. We’ve killed our lights and are parking at the side of the highway. No side roads along here, the driver says. No way around them. Suggestions?”
“How far ahead?” Murdock asked.
“Six hundred yards.”
“What’s your move, DeWitt?” Murdock asked.
“Damn. Dismount, split on both sides of the highway, work down by foot behind them, and take them out. Then radio the truck to come on through.”
“Maybe signal the truck with a flashlight, then we keep all of our guns,” Murdock said.
“Yeah, right. Let’s dismount, people. Murdock, take the ladies, Ostercamp, and Jefferson on your side. I’ve got the rest. Let’s do it.”
They opened the back of the truck and the people jumped out, divided into two groups, and when no cars were coming, Murdock took his four guns across the road and away from it fifty yards. Then they walked forward.
When they were opposite the roadblock, they moved out another fifty yards, then checked with DeWitt. “We’re even with the block,” Murdock said. “Looks like three six-bys and two smaller rigs. They mean business.”
“So do we,” DeWitt said. “I count six men. We’re opposite them too. Let’s go another fifty and then get in firing positions. One volley should take them down. On my signal.”
Three minutes later Murdock had his people in position. “Let’s do it the first time,” Murdock said. “When they get in front of their lights they make perfect targets. Let’s do it when there is no traffic stopped.”
DeWitt came on the net. “That’s a Roger on the traffic. Just the bad guys. Traffic is clearing. Another minute or two. Everyone ready?”
The net check was completed, and they waited for the radio signal. Kat looked over at Yasmin through the darkness and nodded. Yasmin had her Uzi anchored on a small mound and sighted in on the nearest soldier beside one of the trucks.
“Now!” DeWitt ordered, and the night crackled with the small-arms fire from the eleven weapons. Kat thought she hit a man who went down, but it could have been another bullet.
Yasmin fired burst after burst, emptied a magazine, pushed a new one in, and fired again.
“Cease fire,” the radio earpieces said. Yasmin kept firing since she had no radio. She heard the others stop, looked at Kat, who waved at her, and quit firing.
“Cover us,” DeWitt said. “We’ll move in and check the ground.” It took five minutes before DeWitt came on the radio again. “Looks like a clean sweep. We find only five bodies. Might be a live one out there somewhere. Move up and maybe we can flush him out.”
Murdock and his four stood and walked toward the trucks. Nothing moved. Then, when they were halfway there, a man screamed and began firing an automatic rifle. He was ten yards in front of Yasmin, firing at Kat. Yasmin lifted her Uzi and drilled the man with six rounds. He screamed, turned, and emptied his weapon at the Syrian woman as he fell. Yasmin spun around and fell hard.
Kat screamed, ran to the fallen woman, and knelt beside her. She could see blood on Yasmin’s shoulder and chest. She cradled her head and shoulders in her lap.
“Yasmin, you’re hit but you’re going to be fine. They signaled for the truck to come up. Should be here soon. Then we’ll get you inside and find a doctor. He’ll patch you up. You’re going to be fine.”
“Did I get him?” Yasmin asked, her voice whispery, faint.
“Yes, he’s dead. You saved my life, Yasmin. He had me in his sights. His next burst would have cut me in half. You saved my life!”
“Good. Finally I get some satisfaction for what they did to my beloved. They killed him. Now I’ve evened the score.”
She coughed and turned her head as blood dribbled out of her mouth.
“Get that goddamned truck up here, now,” Kat barked into her lip mike. “We’ve got a wounded lady here.”
Murdock eased down beside Yasmin. He looked at the blood seeping into her shirt just below her right breast.
The big truck eased up to the first truck at the roadblock, and the driver gunned the motor. Its wheels spun on the blacktop a moment. Then it pushed the other truck to one side and slid through the opening.
Thirty yards down the highway, the truck stopped at the side. Murdock carried Yasmin across the road, and a dozen eager hands helped lift her into the truck. Everyone piled into the truck and the driver closed the door.
“Ed, tell Franklin to tell the driver to get us to a doctor,” Murdock said. “I don’t care where it is or who it is just so it’s fast. We’ve got maybe a half hour to save this lady’s life. So move it!”
31
They drove the moving van south on the main highway for twenty minutes. “We’re in a desert situation here again,” DeWitt said on the net. “Not a damn building, let alone a town and a doctor. How is our girl doing?”
“Not good,” Murdock said. “She was talking for a while, thought she was back in Philadelphia. She’s unconscious now. Not a good thing. Lost a lot of blood and that chest wound is bad.”
“Doing what we can up here. Where is that next little town? We passed through lots of them on the way up.”
Murdock scowled in the darkness. Damn shame. Yasmin must be chopped up inside. Unless they found a doctor in the next ten minutes, they would lose her.
“Anything out there, DeWitt?”
“Just sand and rocks and some scrub brush. I can’t see anything but blackness down the road. Hey, yes, lights ahead. Some little burg. Another four or five miles.”
“Have Franklin strip off his fighting gear, no weapon. Sic him on any live person you see and ask about a doctor.”
“Will do. Coming up, another mile or two.”