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Sánchez turned and snarled at him. “If you mess up my SUV, your stay at the prison will get off to an even worse start than you can imagine.”
“I imagine it’s not going to be pleasant, although the concrete floor in my cell last night was surprisingly comfortable.”
Sánchez looked at the mercenary. “If he doesn’t hold it, you have my permission to shoot him in the kneecap.”
The mercenary grinned. “Sí, Colonel.”
“That’s okay,” Juan said. “I’ll try to hold it.”
He knew what was coming and wanted to help out if he could, so Juan shifted his position in apparent discomfort as if he had to go badly. In reality, he was moving his right leg around, loosening the poorly fitted prosthetic limb. After a few moments, he felt it come free, propped up only by the jumpsuit leg.
Now he was ready for the attack.
34
After passing the convoy, going the opposite direction, and turning around in a small town a mile ahead, Raven caught up with them and pulled the PIG up behind the rear armored car as if she were about to pass. There was nothing but fertile farms and grazing land on either side of the four-lane divided highway, and the traffic was light at midday.
Having already passed the convoy, Raven had seen that they were up against some formidable firepower. The Ford SUV was pretty standard, but the two four-wheeled MOWAG Grenadiers looked like genuine war machines, the kind of angular, steel-plated vehicles you’d expect to see patrolling a burned-out town in Syria, not racing down a freeway.
“Can you take out both armored cars?” she asked Eddie.
“Not with Juan in the SUV between them,” he answered. “Too risky. We’ll have to take out the trailing armored car, then you run the SUV off the road so I have a clear shot at the other one.”
“Works for me.”
“You ready back there?” Eddie called over his shoulder.
“Armed and dangerous,” said Linc, who was standing by the door in the cargo bay. “I’ll get the Chairman out of the SUV as soon as we’re stopped.”
“Okay,” Eddie said, peering down at the weapons controls. “Here we go.”
He pressed the button, and a rocket leaped from one of the side racks. It shot down the road and blew apart the trailing armored car’s left rear wheel. Raven dodged to the right as it veered left into the grassy median and flipped over, throwing sod and metal parts high into the air.
The drivers of both the leading armored car and the SUV stepped on the gas.
“Get closer before that armored car’s machine gun can get a bead on us,” Eddie said.
“Remember what I mentioned earlier?” Raven asked, flipping the switch on the PIG’s nitrous-boost system. “I’m a leadfoot.”
The PIG blasted forward.
* * *
—
Vamos! Vamos!” Sánchez shouted at the SUV’s driver when he saw the armored car get hit by a rocket and somersault behind them.
The mercenary guarding Juan was distracted because he had turned around to watch the crash and the PIG chasing them, so Juan’s moment of opportunity had arrived.
He lifted himself up in the seat and pulled his wrists under him. A two-legged man would have to be a contortionist to pull the handcuffed arms past his feet, but Juan was able to get the cuffs past the stump below his right knee. Once that was accomplished, it was easy to get his hands over his left foot.
The whole maneuver took less than two seconds, and by the time the guard turned back around, Juan elbowed him in the head, slamming it against the bulletproof glass.
The guy slumped into unconsciousness.
Juan’s cuffed wrists were too close together to use the guard’s MP5, so he leaned forward and threw his hands over the driver’s neck.
The SUV swerved back and forth as the driver battled with Juan. Sánchez drew his pistol and tried to shoot Juan, so Juan released the driver and grabbed the colonel’s hand aiming the gun. They wrestled, as the driver got the SUV back under control, but Sánchez had better leverage.
