The Canadian hesitated. "We're going to leave him?"
Lefleur looked down into the Canadian's eyes. "You yourself said he would die if we didn't get him help right away. We have no way of doing that. Besides, he looks like a Mexican. When the Americans find his body here, they'll think that he is a Mexican, and blame them. It will help our efforts. Now, get moving. We have to catch up to the congressman before it gets dark."
The Canadian looked at his wounded comrade, unconscious and breathing irregularly, then back at Lefleur. Realizing that Lefleur was right, and that they had all signed on for what they knew was going to be a difficult job, the Canadian emptied the Colombian's pockets and hopped into the vehicle. Lefleur looked down at the Colombian one last time before he followed suit. He had considered finishing off the Colombian, but decided against that. To do so in front of the other two would be a bad business practice. You do not, Lefleur knew, inspire confidence and loyalty by shooting your own wounded. Besides, the American high command had placed a mandatory restriction on unnecessary movement at night. With no prospect of anyone coming by that checkpoint before daybreak the next morning, the Colombian would die anyhow, on his own. Without another thought, Lefleur walked around, got into his seat, and ordered his driver to move out to the east as fast as he could.
When the driver of the Humvee Ed Lewis was in saw the flashing headlights of a vehicle coming up behind him, he slowed down.
Noticing the reduction in speed, Lewis leaned over and asked what the problem was. The driver, twisting his head around and looking out his window to see if the van with Jan Fields and her camera crew was also slowing, didn't answer at first. Lewis repeated his question. The driver, looking back to the front, eased his Humvee over onto the shoulder of the road and stopped it before answering. "Sorry, sir, but there's someone coming up fast behind us that either wants to pass or wants us to stop."
The young lieutenant, a public-affairs officer who was serving as Lewis's escort, had been asleep. It wasn't until the Humvee hit the gravel on the shoulder of the road that he realized they were stopping. "What are we stopping for, Jackson?"
Specialist Jackson, the driver, repeated his explanation to the lieutenant.
Opening his door, the lieutenant saw the four-by-four coming up, horn honking and lights flashing. Since they were already stopped, the lieutenant saw no harm in finding out what the people in the vehicle wanted. As a courtesy, he asked Lewis, though he had no idea what he would do if Lewis told them to keep going. "If it's all right with you, Congressman, I'll find out what the problem is with these people."
Lewis, having been in the National Guard, understood these things and simply nodded his approval. Besides, he needed to get out, stretch his legs, and take a leak.
Behind the Humvee, in the van, Jan asked the same question. Joe Bob, who had been driving, just shook his head. "Don't know, boss lady.
They stopped and I thought it would be a good idea to stop too."
Though Jan didn't like Joe Bob referring to her as "boss lady," she said nothing. Instead, she opened her door and began to get out, just as the four-by-four that had been racing up the road to catch them went screaming by. Jumping back into the van and closing the door behind her, Jan looked out the window to see if there was another vehicle coming before she tried to get out again.
"Guess now you know why we stopped, hey, boss lady?"
Jan shot Joe Bob, who was laughing, a dirty look. "I'll get you, smartass."
From the backseat, Ted woke up and asked Joe Bob what was going on. "Piss break, my friend."
Jan ignored Joe Bob's comment. "Let's get out and see what's so hell-fire important."
The strangers in the four-by-four, parked on the other side of the road, didn't get out right away. Instead, they waited until the public-affairs officer crossed over to them. While the lieutenant was doing so, Lewis, along with Jackson, the driver, had moved around to the far side of their Humvee where each man took up position before one of the Humvee's tires and began to relieve himself. Joe Bob and Ted got out and did likewise behind their van.
As he sat there, watching the American officer approach him, Lefleur considered his options. Logic told him that the quickest and most efficient means of dealing with this was just to kill everyone there outright and leave. That would conform nicely to their strategy and tactics. But Lefleur also knew that this group of Americans was no ordinary group. Had they been simple soldiers, like the MPs at the roadblock, he wouldn't have given the matter a second thought. But a congressman, along with a news correspondent to boot, now this was something entirely different.
The fact that one of their own was missing might spur the rest of the American congressmen to drop their differences and press for further, more severe measures, an effort the American media would, no doubt, give great coverage to, since one of their own was also involved. Besides, Lefleur thought, he could always have them killed later if things didn't work out and deposited somewhere that would be embarrassing to the Mexican government.
Jan, ignoring the joy that Lewis and the rest got from peeing on tires, began to walk across the road to see who the strangers were. The man seated in the passenger seat, as well as the one in the rear, had already gotten out, but remained on the far side of their vehicle. They too, Jan thought, were getting ready to pee. Just as she was beginning to wonder if she was the only one who could control her bladder, she heard the front passenger in the four-by-four identify himself as Paul Perrault. Jan froze.
Looking at the man in the growing darkness, she knew that whoever he was, he wasn't Paul Perrault. Jan and Paul had been lovers when Jan had worked in Paris years before. When Jan heard him continue, stating that he was a correspondent for the French National News Network, she knew they were in trouble. While there was a possibility of there being two Paul Perraults, the odds of both of them being correspondents and working for the same agency were just too great. Without waiting to hear more, Jan turned and began to walk back-to the van as quickly as she could without raising any suspicions.
The Canadian, however, who had been watching her, noted her strange behavior, and alerted Lefleur that they had been read. After a quick glance to assess the situation, Lefleur raised the submachine gun he had been concealing and shot the lieutenant standing on the other side of the four-by-four.
The sudden rip of machine-gun fire caught everyone in Lewis's party off guard. Even Jan, her back to the four-by-four, jumped before she dove for the open cargo door of the van. The Canadian, who had been watching Jan's van as well as her, lifted his submachine gun and raked the van, from front to rear, with a long burst. He missed Jan by inches and didn't hit Joe Bob or Ted, who were standing on the other side. Still, the bursf had the desired effect, causing all the men who had been on the other side of the Humvee and van to flatten on the ground, seeking cover behind the tires they had just urinated on.
Before anyone could recover from their shock and react, the Canadian and Lefleur's driver were across the road, training their weapons on Lewis and his party. With a crisp, clear shout, Lefleur ordered everyone up and into the middle of the road. Slowly, Lewis and Jackson, as well as The emotion and fear displayed by each man differed. Jackson, Lewis's driver, was shaking as he looked at Lefleur's driver, then back to his Humvee where his rifle was still sitting in the rack. Lewis tried hard to suppress his fear, eyeing Lefleur's driver as he rose from the ground.
Behind the Humvee, at Jan's van, the Canadian gathered Joe Bob and Ted. Joe Bob, more embarrassed than shocked, eyed the Canadian, assessing what his chances were of rushing and overpowering the mercenary.