“Damn,” muttered Rubeo, his pace slowing to a walk. “Stop!”***
Kharon ran toward the truck they’d been in. From the rear, it looked undamaged, and he began to hope that he might actually be able to escape — he could drive into the city and find someone, anyone in charge. Eventually, he’d find a way to sell his services in exchange for passage out of the country.
To where? Not to Russia, obviously, as Foma would easily find him there. And there was no going to the States.
Venezuela — the fat bastard Sifontes might actually be useful. But Sifontes was in Tripoli, or somewhere with the rebels. This was government territory.
Just barely.
He could buy his way out to freedom. Maybe South Africa.
Kharon collapsed against the side of the truck. He pushed himself up, then worked his way over to the front with a sideways shuffle, aiming to get in on the passenger side and jump over.
As he reached the door, he saw that the hood had a large hole in it. He stared at it, unsure what he was seeing — something had blown clear through the sheet metal and the engine, and plunged deep into the earth.
The engine had been destroyed. He wasn’t going anywhere.
Desperate, he ran to the other vehicle.
Rubeo walked the last two hundred yards, his legs drained, his lungs heaving. By the time he got to the trucks, Kharon had collapsed between them.
“Stay away!” he yelled at Rubeo, getting up when Rubeo was only a few feet away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“What are you doing?” asked Rubeo.
“I’m getting the hell out of here. I’m going to the city.”
“It’s miles from here.”
“I have no choice.”
“Neil—”
“What do you think? You think they’ll let me go when they find out what I did? Do you really think I should hang around to be rescued by the allies?”
Rubeo realized that he was right — surely the allies would treat him harshly once they realized what he had done.
Kharon had tried to ruin him and kill him. There was no way in the world that he should feel anything but disgust and hatred toward him, Rubeo thought.
And yet it seemed he had to do something to help Kharon. Was it the fact that he had loved Kharon’s mother? Did he in fact still feel guilty over her death?
It was a death he had no fault in. And yet he did feel remorse — guilt. There was no other way to express it.
Why should he feel guilty for something a criminal had done?
And why did he feel bad, terribly bad, for Kharon, another victim of the crime?
Most people would say that Ray Rubeo was the last person on the face of the earth who would feel an emotion toward someone, let alone toward someone who had tried to harm him so badly. And yet, he felt emotion, a deep emotion, as if he had to save a son.
As if he could, if only he could think of something. If only he could find the right equation to solve things.
“Neil, if you go into that town, the Russian agent is going to be looking for you. Your only hope is to stay with me.”
“No.” Kharon shook his head. “Listen — they’re already coming.”
Rubeo did hear the sound — a pair of helicopters in the distance. He strained for a moment, trying to identify them. They weren’t Ospreys, which would be what Whiplash would use. But perhaps they were other allied aircraft.
Then he realized something else was wrong.
“They’re coming from the city,” he told Kharon. “Come on. We better take cover.”
15
The allied no-fly zone extended only over northern Libya, and under the standing rules of engagement, jets elsewhere could be shot down without prior approval from the alliance command only if they were a direct threat to civilians or allied aircraft. Danny had been instructed to notify the allies “if reasonable” before engaging any aircraft, and he dutifully did so, talking directly to the air commander aboard the AWACS aircraft surveying the airspace.
The commander had already vectored two French jets south, and was in the process of alerting another flight as backup.
“Your aircraft is clear to engage if necessary,” said the air commander. “We’re establishing direct coms now.”
“I’d like to keep him over my operation area,” said Danny.
“That’s all right with us. Colonel — we’re seeing two helicopters taking off nearby. We’re not sure if they’re hostile.”
“Can we shoot them down?”
“Have they taken hostile action?”
“I’d rather not wait for that.”
“Stand by.”
Danny clicked into Turk’s frequency.
“I’m talking to the allied command about the helicopters,” he told him. “Stand by and be ready.”
“They’re getting close.”
“Are they armed?”
“The Hind has a chin gun,” said Turk.
“Understood. Anything hostile, take them out. We’re a few minutes away.”
“Yup,” snapped Turk, clearly irritated that he had to wait. The helicopters could get right next to Rubeo without doing anything hostile, and then shoot. Turk knew there would be no way to protect him.
“Whiplash, be advised, those helicopters are part of the rebel alliance,” said the air commander, coming back on the line.
“They came out of a government city,” said Danny.
“City leadership has gone over to the rebels.”
“When?”
“It’s in progress,” said the controller. “The helicopters are not hostile. We have spoken to one of their ground commanders.”
“You’re sure of this?”
“Affirmative.”
“They’re moving into an area where my guy on the ground may be threatened,” answered Danny. “Tell them to get the hell out of there.”
“We’re working on it. Do not engage.”
“Tell them to change course,” Danny said.
“I am not in direct communications with them at this time. We’re trying to establish a direct link. Suggest your aircraft attempt to contact them as well on Guard.”
“If they continue, they will be shot down,” Danny warned. He went back to Turk. “Turk, command is saying the aircraft are considered friendly. Try contacting them directly. If they look like a threat, nail them.”
“I want them to stay back.”
“Understood and agreed. Warn them off. Don’t fire unless you have to, but keep Rubeo safe.”
“What about the MiGs?”
“Air command allegedly is taking care of them,” said Danny. “But same thing there.”
“Yeah, roger, I got it. Easier if we were just running this on our own.”
“But we’re not.”
“Tigershark copies.”
16
Kharon hesitated, unsure what to do. Finally he decided to follow Rubeo, who was heading back up to the hills where they had been. After the first tentative steps, he put his head down and began running in earnest.
Whatever happens, I’ll stay with him. I’m as good as dead now anyway.
He caught up with Rubeo and trotted alongside him for a few steps. Then he decided to go ahead.
“I’m going to see if I can see anything from the top of the hill,” said Kharon.
“OK,” wheezed Rubeo.
Kharon started to run again. He cut left, up the steep side of the hill. Several large rocks blocked his way. He veered right, then felt the side of his foot giving way in the loose dirt. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground, the left side of his face burning.