The skyline ahead of them unexpectedly changed configuration. The immediate horizon seemed to heave upward in the center as the ugly shadow of the Hog appeared menacingly, slewing broadside to a halt on top of the ridge.
Danica Jones leaped back from the driver's seat, waving at Bolan to ride clear of her line of fire. The M-60 opened up with a murderous clatter, spewing out an arc of death in small doses across the sands.
Bolan smiled, elated by her initiative. He had turned Malik to the left and was running flat out into a trough behind the nearest transverse dunes.
Danny's opening salvo caught Hooker's Jeep in the engine. The vehicle rocketed up the shoulder of a dune, seeming to suspend momentarily in midair before it slewed into the path of an oncoming Saracen. The armored car was knocked sideways by the blast of the disintegrating wreck.
The last few seconds ticked away on the preset timers in the ammo shed. The troopers remaining in the yard were caught unaware when the storage dump exploded with crushing force. Mines, grenades, mortars and ammunition touched off one another in an almost instantaneous chain reaction. The whole wall behind the shack cracked from top to bottom. The sentries, who thought themselves lucky to have a grandstand view of the wild chase, were tossed aside like broken toys by the concussive shock wave. The booming, grinding, shrieking thunderclap was deafening. In that last millisecond more than one man thought it was the end of the world.
Zayoud's driver skidded to a halt below the approach ramp. The sheikh stared in a daze at the dirty mushroom cloud roiling upward, a death's head shadow rearing over the tumbling battlements. The mercs were not sure what was happening. The castle was exploding behind them. A wildcat had pinned them down with machine-gun fire.
And the horse had bolted.
Danny fired another long burst to keep their heads down, jumped back behind the wheel and stamped on the accelerator. She wheeled around off the ridge and chased after Bolan. They were crossing a hard pan of barren rock. Bolan glanced back and saw the Hog gaining on the outside. He made no move to check the reins as Danny drew alongside.
"You're going to have to jump, Chip!" The youngster stretched out his arm, instinctively grabbing for the corner of the roll bar, and then before he could think twice Bolan heaved him aboard the Hog.
Keegan had collected his wits a lot quicker than his colleagues. "Don't let that bastard escape!" Billy Joe Hooker, bruised and battered by his forcible ejection from the Jeep, limped over to Ruark's vehicle and jumped aboard as the driver took off.
Zayoud was shouting for his own men to follow their lead.
Danny had snatched hold of Kevin's belt to steady the boy as lie completed the precarious leap from the galloping horse to the speeding Jeep. She got both hands back on the wheel a fraction before they hit the first bumps of rutted sand.
Bolan leaned sideways and threw himself onto the rear deck of the bouncing Hog.
The Arabian stallion, feeling himself suddenly lightened, slowed to a canter, veered off to the left, heaving for breath after the exhausting run. Kevin glanced back to make sure the riderless horse was all right. One of the Arab drivers turned off to round up his master's horse. Keegan was screaming in rage at being sidetracked. The other mercs paid it no mind, they pressed on after the smoking dust trail that marked the getaway vehicle. There was nothing Kevin could do about escaping; he could not jump out at this speed. But Bolan had no way of knowing which side the boy was on now. Before Kevin could protest, Bolan had slipped the cuffs over his wrist and snapped them shut around the roll bar. The Hog was in good hands.
Bolan left the driving to Danny, swung the M-60 around and fired a devastating burst into the convoy chasing after them.
A Jeep swerved in from behind the razor-edged ridge on their flank, bearing down on them fast.
Bolan grabbed a grenade and lobbed it in the path of the pursuers. The blast lifted the Jeep onto two wheels and the driver lost control.
A truck loaded with jeering Arabs was gaining ground behind. The driver saw the Jeep start to tilt over crazily in his path. He managed to swerve as the crippled Jeep plowed along on its side, but in avoiding this danger he ran straight over a rock with such a loud crack that even Bolan could hear the impact above the sounds of the furious chase. The wheels spun on independently, wobbling as they parted ways with the shattered axle. The front end dropped and bulldozed its way deeper into the sand, which curled outward in a cresting bow wave.
Scratch one truck. The men spilled out, but Bolan did not fire into the tumbling mass of Zayoud's troopers. They were being left well behind now as Danny flew over the knifeedged summit of a crescent dune.
The Executioner was pleased with Chandler's design, which was proving its worth. The Hog's fourwheel drive was most effective across this uneven terrain, the suspension holding firm over the roughest going.
"You're doing fine, Danny!" Bolan called out from the rear. "Anyone on our tail?"
"Uh-uh. You're leaving them standing." One of the armored cars got off a shot that went wide. A huge spout of sand erupted to their right.
Danny drove even faster, barreling the sturdy ATV down the tire tracks that they had followed in at such a snail's pace.
Bolan remained stationed at the mounted machine gun. He lost sight of Zayoud's dark Rover.
And soon even Ruark got left behind. The reddish-gold mounds of the great dunes parted, revealing a long bare stretch that the winds had flayed to the skeletal rock. The heat was sweltering. Danny glimpsed the faint yellow scar of the trail that climbed the humpback of the jebel ahead of them.
She raced on toward the distant target.
"Take the gully to the left," said Bolan, tapping her shoulder. There was still no sign of the opposition when they reached the far end of the barren pan.
"Once we're behind the cover of those next dunes, you can slow down, then I'll take the wheel."
First he unlocked the steel bracelet that kept Kevin manacled to the roll bar. Bolan decided that it was not safe to keep the youth tied to the Hog.
Kevin massaged his wrist. He had not complained when Bolan first snapped the cuffs on; he did not thank him now for being released. He stared off into the wasteland, still shocked by what had happened, still wondering what was to become of him.
Bolan and Danica Jones accomplished the switch within seconds and were on their way again. All three of them could breathe a little easier now. "There's a water flask under that seat," Bolan told the boy. "Take a swig and pass it around. I guess it's time we introduced ourselves..."
Bolan and Danny briefly explained who they were and assured Kevin that his safety and well-being were their chief concern. They did not lay a guilt trip on the youngster or even go so far as to paint a detailed portrait of Hassan Zayoud in the colors he deserved; just putting him in the picture and winning his confidence was their first goal. The conversation petered out as both of them could sense Kevin's resentment and resistance.
There was still a long dangerous trek ahead of them, but they had won the first round.
"We're making better time on the way back," joked Danny, trying to lighten the air.
It was true. It had taken nearly four hours of playing cat and mouse with the mere patrols to cover the final leg to Hagadan. Less than forty minutes had elapsed since they had escaped from the fortress and they had already reached the rust-streaked rock that Bolan had noted as a crucial marker.
Bolan wondered if the force of the exploding ammo dump had wrecked the radio tower if not, then Zayoud could still prepare a warm welcome for the interlopers on the far side of the Jebel Kharg.
Or would the sheikh throw all his efforts into the carefully planned coup and risk letting Kevin's rescue crew slip through his fingers? The warrior doubted that Zayoud would be so charitable.