“He can bill whoever these people are working for,” replied Mitchell, as he once more unbuckled his belt and crawled back to the machine gun. Mitchell’s patience was growing thin; the shot tire was not deflating fast enough for him. Taking the weapon off safety, Mitchell fired a short burst into the Hummer’s hood; right away, the vehicle started to slow down.
Keeping pace with the Hummer, Jackson slowed down his jeep and pulled over beside it, leaving plenty of room between Mitchell and his target.
With the GPMG aimed at the driver’s compartment, the driver’s door to the Hummer slowly opened and an AK was dropped unceremoniously onto the dirt road.
“Show us your hands,” said Mitchell, keeping the machine gun trained on the Hummer.
A pair of shaking hands emerged from behind the door.
“Good, now get out, slowly,” ordered Mitchell.
The driver, shaking in fear, stepped out of the vehicle, his eyes wide as he stared over at the weapon trained on his chest.
“Lie down,” ordered Mitchell firmly, leaving no doubt in his voice that he meant business.
Nodding, the driver got down on the road and lay there vibrating in fear.
Jackson grabbed his M4, chambered a round and hauled his frame out of the jeep and stood there, warily eyeing the vehicle.
“You inside, play it smart, let the girl go and slowly step outside,” said Mitchell. “Don’t do anything foolish. I’d fill you with a ton of lead before you could grab a weapon.”
Teplov sat there silently, staring out of the open driver’s-side door at the people who had ruined his plans. He knew he had no recourse; he was trapped. Gritting his teeth, Teplov swore under his breath at his bad luck. This was supposed to be an easy assignment: grab the American from the dig site, eliminate everyone else there, and make it look like the work of rebels. It was not supposed to be this way. He was not a fanatic; he was just a man doing a job, and dying was not part of the bargain.
“Get out,” said Teplov to Jen, his voice bitter with defeat.
Jen slowly opened her door, showed her hands like the driver had and stepped out of the back of the Hummer. A feeling of relief washed over her the instant she stepped out of the vehicle.
“Ok, miss, now keep it calm, and slowly walk over beside me,” said Jackson to Jen, all the while never taking his eyes off the Hummer.
Jen nodded and walked over beside Jackson. She saw that he was built like a defensive lineman in the NFL and easily dwarfed Jen’s more diminutive figure.
“Now you,” ordered Mitchell to Teplov. “Throw out any weapons you have and crawl out through the open driver’s-side door. Make any sudden moves and I promise that I’ll turn you into Swiss cheese.”
A moment later, a pistol dropped out of the Hummer. Mitchell could hear a man swearing away in Russian as the last occupant of the vehicle emerged; standing there with his hands by his sides, he stared defiantly at Mitchell and Jackson.
Mitchell lowered the machine gun, grabbed his M4, jumped down from the Rover, and walked cautiously towards the Hummer. Looking at the imposing solid frame and cold uncaring eyes of the man standing in front of him, Mitchell knew he was dealing with a professional and not one of the local thugs they had already dealt with today.
“Ok, mister, hands on your head and slowly get down on your knees,” said Mitchell, as he waved towards the dirt with his rifle barrel.
With a look of disgust, Teplov reluctantly did as he was told.
Mitchell carefully walked forward, picked up the discarded pistol and then, before Teplov knew what was happening, he was pushed onto the ground and a set of handcuffs was quickly slapped on him.
Rolling over to look up at the man who had dared to touch him, Teplov looked into the blue-gray eyes of his opponent and swore an oath: no matter the cost, he would find a way to get revenge on this impertinent man.
Mitchell left Teplov in the dirt and strolled over to Jackson and Jen. “Are you all right?” he asked Jen, with a reassuring smile on his face.
“Yes, I guess so,” replied Jen, looking at the men dressed in US military MultiCam fatigues who had just saved her life. “Who are you guys? Are you with the army?”
Jackson let out a little chuckle.
“No, miss, we’re not with the army; at least, not anymore,” said Mitchell, as he offered his hand. “Where are my manners? My name is Ryan, Ryan Mitchell, and this mountain of a man standing beside me is Nathaniel Jackson.”
“Nate,” said Jackson, in a deep booming voice while offering his large hand in greeting.
Jen shook both men’s hands. She looked over at Mitchell, taking in his intense blue-gray eyes. She saw that he stood just over six feet and had a trim athletic build. Mitchell had thick brown hair, cut short. His skin was tanned. She could tell that he was a man who spent a lot of his life outdoors. Jen thought that Mitchell had a rugged, confident air about him, which she suspected women liked. She suddenly realized that she was staring. Blushing, she looked away.
His friend was a tall African-American with a smooth-shaven head, large broad shoulders, and strong muscular arms. Jen thought he looked like a man who could hold his own easily in a boxing ring.
Jen realized she was standing there, not saying a word. She spoke, “Oh, sorry; my name is Jennifer March, but please call me Jen.”
“Jen it is then,” said Mitchell, smiling at her before stepping to one side. “Yuri, send a sitrep,” said Mitchell into his throat-mic.
Yuri, their UAV operator, quickly filled him in and then jokingly asked Mitchell how much per month he wanted deducted from his pay to cover the loss of the drone.
In the distance, a police car with its siren blaring sped towards the stopped Hummer, leaving a red dust cloud behind it.
“Cavalry’s coming,” said Jackson dryly.
“Better late than never,” said Mitchell, looking over at the worried look on Jen’s face. “Don’t worry about your friends, they are safe,” said Mitchell, as he fixed his gaze on Jen’s alluring deep brown eyes.
Tears welled up in Jen’s eyes at the news. “How do you know that?”
“It’s a case of dumb luck really, but Nate and I and several others were over here helping to train the Philippine national police’s latest counter-terrorism unit and by pure accident, we spotted several vehicles heading in your direction. Yuri, my UAV operator, wanted to show off his new toy to the class, so he followed the convoy until they stopped short of your camp. When we saw armed men jumping out of the back of several Hummers, we knew it wasn’t going to be a friendly house call. Nate and I decided to come after you, while the remainder of my training team under command of the Philippine counter-terrorism team leader swung in via chopper. It turned from a training exercise into a live-fire confirmation in real short order.”
Jen wiped the tears off her cheeks, smudging red dirt across her face.
Mitchell smiled and handed Jen his camouflage neck scarf so that she could clean herself up.
A police cruiser came to a sliding halt beside the Hummer. Two officers got out. Mitchell filled them in on what had happened. Grabbing Teplov by the arms, the police dragged him away and placed him in the back of their car before speeding off back the way they came.
“So, shall we take you back to your camp?” said Mitchell to Jen.
“Yes, thank you,” said Jen, more composed now that her tormentor was gone.
Ten minutes later, Jackson turned off the mud-filled road and headed towards a group of Philippine special police who were standing around with several overjoyed students happily congratulating them for saving them.
Alanis Kim saw Jen sitting in the front seat of Mitchell’s jeep. In an instant, fear changed to elation. She broke into tears as she ran forward and threw herself into Jen’s arms. Both women sat there for a moment, not daring to let the other go for fear of losing one another once again.