"Howdy. What brings you folks out this way?"
The casual approach to war and soldiering that Americans reveled in never ceased to amaze Lefleur. In the Foreign Legion, had he run a checkpoint the way this sergeant did and challenged an unidentified vehicle with such a greeting, he would have been flogged. That the Americans won so often in war proved, to Lefleur, that there was no justice.
When the MP sergeant stopped next to Lefleur, Lefleur pulled out a card that identified him as a correspondent. "My name is Paul Perrault.
I am a correspondent for the French National News Network." Then he pointed to the others in his vehicle, one at a time. "And he is my cam eraman, my sound technician, and my driver and interpreter." Each man in Lefleur's vehicle smiled and waved with his left hand as Lefleur pointed to him, while they kept their right arms close to their side.
Lefleur's response caused the MP sergeant's smile to broaden. "Oh, then you must be with Congressman Lewis's party."
Lewis's name rang a bell in Lefleur's head. He was one of the American congressmen who was opposed to intervention in Mexico. Not having any idea what the MP sergeant was talking about, but seeing an opportunity to expedite their passage through the checkpoint, Lefleur responded that they were, but that they had become separated from the congressman.
The MP sergeant smiled again. "Well, partner, you're in luck. The congressman and his party passed through here not five minutes ago, headed east. If you hurry, you can catch up to them before they get into town."
Although he still didn't quite know what the MP was talking about, Lefleur saw an opportunity. Looking away from the MP, down the road to the east, Lefleur considered the information the sergeant had so freely given him. As Lefleur pondered, for a moment, what he could do with it, the MP sergeant looked puzzled as to why Lefleur was waiting. "You know, you don't have much time. It'll be dark soon and you'll lose 'em."
If Lefleur had learned one thing in his years with the Legion, it was to trust one's instincts. Those instincts, at that moment, told him that somewhere, up on the road ahead, there was a prize waiting for him, a prize for the taking. What he would do with that prize, once he had it, he didn't know. But he knew it could not be ignored. And, Lefleur reasoned, if they were going to start a campaign of terror, this was as good a time and place as any to start.
Lefleur, turning back to the MP sergeant, smiled as he looked into the sergeant's eyes. "Yes, it is true that I do not have much time. But I have more than you."
Unable to figure out what Lefleur meant, the MP sergeant continued to stare into Lefleur's eyes, never noticing that he was reaching under his seat with his right hand.
The sudden burst of fire surprised everyone. The MPs at the wire entanglement froze as they watched the body of their squad leader fly backward, away from the vehicle he had been next to. It took them several seconds to realize that he had been shot by the vehicle's passenger, seconds that the vehicle driver put to good use. Rising from his seat, pulling out his own submachine gun as he did so, the driver popped up over the windshield and fired a short burst at the two MPs at the wire entanglement. The first burst hit the MP with the M-203 just as he was leveling it at Lefleur's vehicle. The other MP, struggling to take her M-16 off her shoulder, paused to watch her partner as he fell over backward.
Looking back at the man who had just shot him, the second MP renewed her efforts to bring her rifle into play. It was, however, no contest. The driver, satisfied that the first MP was finished, shifted his MP-5 to the right a little, took aim, and fired at the second MP at the wire entanglement. As with the first, his aim was true and the impact of his burst threw the second MP back and out of the fight even before she could get into it.
Lefleur's two men in the backseat didn't need any special instructions from him. Both, like the driver, drew their weapons out and rose up, firing at the MPs manning the heavy weapons on the Humvees as they did so. Only.the MP on the M-60 was able to bring her weapon into play before she was hit. Fortunately for Lefleur, her first burst was high and wild. The mercenary taking her vehicle under fire never allowed her the chance to adjust her aim. Her counterpart, across the road on the M-19 grenade launcher, went down before he even managed to get the safety off his weapon.
That left only the female MP who had been eating. Lefleur, satisfied that the most immediate threats had been dealt with, turned his attention to the last MP. When he looked where she had been, however, only a discarded brown plastic sack and her helmet marked the spot. For the first time, Lefleur was worried. Knowing she couldn't have gone far, he began to scan the area around the Humvee she had been leaning against.
A three-round burst, and a scream of pain from the man standing behind Lefleur, announced the last MP's presence. Though he knew that the noise behind him was the sound of the body of one of his men hitting the pavement, he paid no attention. After catching a glimpse of the offending M-16's muzzle disappearing behind the front left tire of the Humvee, Lefleur leaped out and ran toward the right side of the Humvee.
Covering the distance in four or five easy bounds, he didn't pause, but continued around to the rear of the vehicle. As he did so, he ran into the last MP as she was slowly backing around to the rear of the Humvee from her side. Without a second thought, Lefleur leveled his submachine gun at his side and squeezed off a burst into the back of the last MP, who was now less than a meter from him. The kick of the submachine gun caused the strike of the rounds to climb up the MP's back, with the first round hitting her at the base of the spine and the last one in her right shoulder.
Several more rounds flew over her shoulder, but that didn't matter. As her body collapsed, Lefleur knew she was finished.
For a moment, he stood and looked at her. What a waste, Lefleur thought, of a good woman. The idea of raping her entered his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. While such an action would have been in line with their program of atrocities, Lefleur had bigger game in mind. Lowering his submachine gun, he fired into the MP's body until the thirty round magazine was empty. That would have to do for now, he thought, as he ran back to his vehicle.
His driver, with the engine running, was ready to leave. Behind the vehicle were the other two members of his team. One man, a Colombian, was lying on the ground in a pool of blood. The other man, a Canadian by birth, was kneeling over him. Lefleur walked over, looked at the Colombian, and asked how he was. The Canadian looked up and shook his head. "What the hell did you start shooting for? We could have gotten through and they would have been none the wiser."
Lefleur was not used to explaining his orders to anyone. Besides, the Canadian knew just as well as any other man in the group that the last thing they could afford to do was to leave witnesses behind. The MP sergeant had seen his face and would, no doubt, be able to put two and two together when the congressman showed up missing. Besides, Lefleur thought, what a great way to start a terror campaign. Ignoring the Canadian's question, he asked how the Colombian was.
"He's bleeding like a stuck pig. He won't make it if we can't stop the bleeding and get some serious medical attention quickly."
Lefleur looked at the Colombian, then to the east. "All right then, take his ID and weapon. We need to get moving."