‘Hold up,’ Garcia said as he watched the satellite feed on his screen. ‘One of them is already north of your position. He’s crawling behind a rampart along the eastern edge.’
‘Where?’ McNutt said. ‘Describe the landmarks to me. I can punch right through his cover with this rifle if I know where he is.’
‘Umm, let me see. Go north of the pond by about fifteen feet. Maybe five feet out from the end of that terrace. There’s a low wall running parallel to the edge.’
‘I see it. Where’s his head?’ McNutt asked.
‘His head? Umm, maybe six or seven feet from the corner. He’s on his knees.’
McNutt processed the information instantly, then pulled the trigger. The round blasted a hole through the wall just a few inches in front of the crawling man, who immediately reversed direction and scrambled backward.
‘South one meter,’ Garcia said.
He corrected and fired again. This time the shot found its mark.
‘I’ll be damned. You got him right through the wall.’
McNutt grinned. ‘Never had a satellite spotter before … Not bad, Manuel.’
Cobb stayed in position, waiting for a target to show or another update.
Before Garcia could warn him, one of the gunmen bolted toward Cobb’s side of the plateau. He followed the same path the crawler had taken before him. Meanwhile, another two men broke cover and ran toward McNutt’s most recent kill behind the rampart.
McNutt opened fire on his duo with his M-4, spraying a single continuous wave at the weaving men. He killed one and clipped the other in the shoulder. Cobb fired as well, just as Garcia started shouting in their ears.
‘It’s a diversion,’ Garcia yelled. ‘The others are running south under the cover of trees. They must’ve figured out that we have sat coverage.’
‘Where are they heading?’ Cobb demanded as he emptied his magazine into the gunman rushing toward him. The man fell dead as Cobb scrabbled up the path behind him.
‘Hang on,’ Garcia said. ‘Switching to infrared now. With all this running, their bodies are gonna be glowing bright red.’
‘Hurry up, Hector. I’m kind of—’
‘Jack,’ Garcia said, cutting him off. ‘Time to move to the western high ground. Your guys are going all the way south. They’re going to try to outflank you.’
McNutt fired his assault rifle until the magazine ran dry. He casually tossed it aside and pulled out his pistol. The Beretta M-9 was one of a handful of available models easily found in Sri Lanka. The armed forces used a hodgepodge of weapons from different countries, so there were a lot floating around. He’d had his choice of Austrian, British, and German pistols, but McNutt opted for Italian since Polo — and their mission — had started in Italy.
‘Where is he, Tito?’ McNutt demanded.
‘Who?’
‘The guy I clipped in the shoulder.’
Garcia paused. ‘He’s heading for the stairs. Maybe he’s bugging out.’
McNutt ran for the northwest corner, then veered to the east, spotting the man running for the edge. He fired his pistol on the move, hitting the fleeing man in the back and sending his body crashing to the dirt. McNutt kept running toward him with the barrel of the M-9 leveled, but the fallen man didn’t move.
Still, he shot him again just to be sure.
It was time to go help Cobb.
Cobb exchanged fire with two men who had chosen the low ground in exchange for the series of terraces that provided cover when facing north. They were peppering the sides of the platform that he was lying on, but he couldn’t see them well enough to aim.
They kept ducking behind the wall.
Even worse, Cobb realized they were near the opening to the cave.
‘Jack,’ Garcia said, ‘one’s moving for the stairs on your right.’
Cobb rolled to his side and saw the man pop up. With spare magazines in his pocket, Cobb didn’t hold back. He fired seven rounds in a rapid grouping down the path, hitting the man in at least three places. Then he rolled back under cover, just as the other man returned fire from the middle of the rock. Cobb ejected his magazine and slapped another home.
Pinned down in his current position, Cobb cursed under his breath. Anytime he tried to move, the gunman fired in his general direction. Even though he kept missing, the edge of the rock platform kept spitting shards of brick and stone at Cobb. So far, he had suffered only a few scratches, but eventually one of the gunman’s shots would do some damage.
‘Are they flanking me?’ Cobb whispered.
Garcia stared at his screen. ‘I don’t see anyone but that one guy. Josh is on his way down. He’s using the east side.’
‘Josh,’ Cobb said. ‘Hold your position.’
McNutt ducked behind a wall. ‘Say again?’
‘I can handle one guy. No need to bail me out. Worry about the rest of the mountain.’
‘Copy that, chief.’
Cobb chanced a quick look. The guy was ducked down behind the terrace wall. He hadn’t fired in several seconds. ‘What’s he doing? Is he reloading?’
Garcia nodded. ‘Sure looks like it from outer space.’
Cobb got to his feet in a crouch. ‘Tell me when he chambers.’
‘Hang on … any second. And … now!’
Before Garcia had finished the vowel sound, Cobb was sprinting as fast as he could. He ran to the edge of his platform and leaped up and out into the air. His body sailed out over the square pond that was nearly thirty feet below him and he began his descent.
The Chinese man popped up and fired at the rock ledge where Cobb had been, but by then Cobb was already plunging through the air, his Beretta up, and sighting on the man. Cobb fired most of the magazine, hitting the man more than missing, before he landed feet-first into the rainwater, sending up a huge splash behind him.
Cobb knew the retention pond was over ten feet deep, so he had plenty of time to slow his acceleration before his boots hit the bottom. A few seconds later, his head broke free from the water and he swam to the edge of the pond just as gunfire broke out to his east. He raised his weapon from the murky water, ready to defend himself, but quickly realized it wasn’t necessary.
McNutt was running forward with his pistol raised. On the turf in front of him was an injured gunman, who tried to get off one last shot. McNutt fired again and ended the threat.
‘You’re clear,’ Garcia said in their ears.
Cobb crawled out of the murky brown water and immediately checked his magazine. He still had a few rounds left in his Beretta. Dripping wet and out of breath, he walked toward McNutt, who had crouched beside one of the dead gunmen.
‘What are you doing?’ Cobb asked.
McNutt rolled the man onto his back. As a former Marine, he was trained to study the faces of his victims, hoping upon hope that they had killed one of their top threats. ‘Unless I’m mistaken, that’s a guy from our briefing. Isn’t he number two?’
Cobb nodded his confirmation. ‘Sure looks like it.’
Garcia chimed in. ‘Number two is Lim Bao. He’s one of the men that we spotted at the airport and the right-hand man of Feng He, the leader of the Brotherhood.’
McNutt glanced at the nearby bodies. ‘None of these are Feng.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ Cobb said. ‘If he’s as rich and powerful as Maggie claimed, there’s a very good chance that he’s sitting this one out. Just because he’s in country, doesn’t mean he’s on site. I mean, Papi’s on a yacht right now while we’re getting dirty.’
McNutt grinned. ‘You hear that, Franco? You better lock the door at the hotel. There’s a damn good chance that the main dragon is hanging out near you.’
Garcia swallowed hard, then stood up to lock the door.