Sarah laughed in his ear. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll meet up soon enough.’
Kamal, oblivious to the deception, was growing restless. He hadn’t driven all this way to stand around while Dade chatted with Cobb.
‘No more talk. Time to fight.’
Cobb nodded in agreement. ‘Have your men grab whatever they need. We go the rest of the way on foot.’
Kamal shouted instructions in Arabic, causing five trucks’ worth of men to assemble beside him. They were heavily armed and bouncing with anticipation.
Cobb pointed toward the Mercedes. ‘What about your boss?’
Kamal shook his massive head. ‘He stay here.’
Cobb shrugged. ‘Okay then. Follow me.’
Ten minutes later, Cobb ordered the men to hold their position at the edge of the patrolled territory. It was as far as they could go without risking an ambush. He knew the shadow warriors were out there in the night, ready to defend their land at all cost.
Cobb stared into the darkness. ‘Okay, Josh. Help me out.’
McNutt stared through his scope from a half a mile away. From his vantage point atop a small dune, his night optics gave him a clear view of the scene. ‘On it, chief. You’ve got men approaching. Directly at your twelve.’
Cobb looked straight ahead, trying to see the men that McNutt had spotted. But he saw nothing but sand. ‘I can’t—’
His voice cut off as the shadows seemingly materialized in front of him. One moment they weren’t there; the next a half-dozen were heading his way.
Then six became twelve.
And twelve became twenty.
And suddenly, they were everywhere.
A sound like thunder rolled across the desert as Kamal opened fire. A single shot was all it took for the others to know that the battle was on. A second later, Hassan’s men fired multiple rounds into the night. Bullets sprayed in every direction as the enemy swarmed, forcing the men to defend themselves from all sides. They tried to fend off the shadow warriors as best they could, but their efforts seemed to be in vain.
No matter how many times they shot, the ghosts just kept coming.
Armed with nothing but ancient blades.
McNutt watched as the shadow warriors rose from the sand, as if they had emerged from the Underworld itself. It was a pretty neat trick, one that kept him on his toes as he carried out his one and only responsibility: protecting Cobb from harm.
As wave after wave of swordsmen charged toward Cobb, McNutt zeroed in on those who posed the biggest threat. With each squeeze of the trigger, another enemy fell — most with a gaping hole in his head or chest.
‘Chief,’ he said, ‘permission to shoot both sides?’
‘Not yet. Let the gunmen help us for now, but if they turn on me at any time, you do what you do best.’
McNutt grinned. ‘Sweet.’
From their base camp near Siwa, Garcia ignored the firefight that raged in the desert and focused on the activity below. His map of the stronghold wasn’t entirely complete, but it was getting close. By cross-referencing the video feeds that he was watching with the blueprint of the compound, he could determine where the troops were headed.
Earlier, while combing through the footage, Garcia had noticed a series of narrow cylinders that rose from the bunker up through the sand. At first he thought they were ventilation shafts, but when he saw someone climbing toward the surface, he understood their true purpose. They were access tubes. Like the tunnels of the Viet Cong that stretched across Vietnam, these access tubes provided the Muharib with multiple entry and exit points all across the desert landscape.
‘Jack, you’ve got twenty more climbing to the north.’
Right on cue, nearly two-dozen warriors appeared. Cobb watched as they stormed in from the hidden shafts just beyond his view.
Despite their cache of artillery, the Muharib carried only swords. The weapons had served them well for centuries, and there was no reason to believe their tradition would fail them now. In their time of need, they relied upon what they knew best.
They preferred ancient blades to antique guns.
Garcia continued his analysis. ‘The numbers are looking pretty good. This might be the best chance we get. Most of the men have gone topside.’
‘Copy that,’ Cobb said with his hand to his ear. ‘We’re a go for phase two. Repeat. Go for phase two.’
Dade had arrived unarmed, but that quickly changed during the course of the battle. He borrowed a rifle from one of the dead goons and fired it at anyone with a sword.
Though he was grateful that Cobb had rescued him, he wondered if he wasn’t better off back in the Mercedes with Hassan. He was tempted to head back to the car when he heard Cobb’s command to commence with phase two.
‘What the hell is phase two?’ he asked.
It was Sarah who answered. ‘Simon, listen closely. Turn west, and sprint like your life depends on it… because it does!’
Dade looked to his right and hesitated, seeing nothing but desert. He assumed it was filled with assassins, just waiting to cut him down. ‘To where?’
‘To me!’ Sarah shouted. ‘I need your help. Now!’
He took a deep breath. ‘On my way.’
As Dade sprinted forward, Cobb began his retreat.
It wasn’t an act of cowardice; it was part of the plan.
Even though the shadow warriors had taken Jasmine and blown up the city, Hassan’s men weren’t exactly saints. He had heard the stories of how they ruled their territory. He also knew that they hadn’t followed him into the cistern to help him out. He was sure that they had been sent to kill him and his team, and he sensed that they still might try once the battle was over.
If that was the case, why help them win?
It didn’t make any sense.
So Cobb pulled back to the relative safety of a nearby boulder and took a knee. With McNutt watching over him, all he had to do was separate himself from the chaos and keep his distance while the two sides slugged it out in the desert sand. As far as he was concerned, he hoped that the battle dragged on all night because the war was thinning the ranks of both sides and distracting the Muharib from his team’s ultimate goaclass="underline" sneaking inside and rescuing Jasmine.
74
Dade barreled through the blackness, convinced that he would be killed by the shadow warriors, cut into pieces by their blades.
The fear didn’t stop until he spotted Sarah ahead.
She rose from her crouch and signaled for him to duck behind a cluster of shrubs. Then she pointed at a raised, round lip in the sand on the other side of the bushes. It looked like a manhole in the middle of the desert.
‘Watch,’ she whispered as she crawled toward him.
A moment later, the lid popped open and five cloaked men emerged from the hole. Dade braced himself for a slaughter, but the lump in his throat disappeared as the warriors ran off toward the battle in the distance.
Once they were gone, he turned to Sarah. ‘What are—’
‘Shhhh,’ she said as she cut him off. ‘Hector?’
‘Hang tight,’ Garcia replied.
He kept a watchful eye on the surveillance feed from his command center and waited for the perfect moment for Sarah to spring into action.
She was positioned near the closest entry tube to Jasmine’s cell but had been unable to enter because of the steady stream of guards. Though impatient, she knew if she bided her time that an opportunity would present itself.
At least, she hoped so.