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“With thermal. Sure.”
“Okay, I’m handing my radio over to Gaffar. You’re going to have to give him instructions on how to get to the LZ from here. He doesn’t speak English, though, so call down for a translator.”
“Okay, Mitch. No problem.”
“Fred,” Rapp said. “Are you copying this?”
“Affirmative.”
“Give me a sitrep.”
“I have eyes on your people and I’m getting ready to land.”
“Pick them up and get back in the air. Then stand by.”
“Roger that.”
He removed his earpiece and throat mike, handing them to Gaffar. “Your heading is due east to the LZ. It’s going to be about eight kilometers over moderately difficult terrain. Keep a reasonable pace. Don’t blow yourself up and don’t fall in any holes.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Keep these guys down long enough to give you a head start.”
“No. I won’t leave you here. We should—”
“You’ll be too slow for me out there. Go now and I’ll catch you.”
The Arab reluctantly turned and crawled a few yards before getting to his feet and accelerating to a careful jog.
Rapp settled into the silence. The wind was completely dead and nothing around him moved. He was completely on his own. A pleasant change from the babysitting he’d been doing over the last few hours.
He didn’t have to wait long for the illusion of peacefulness to be shattered. Not by the sound of oncoming trucks but by a quiet rustling from below. A moment later he saw the dark outline of a man break cover for a split second and then jerk back. Rapp just sat there. A few moments later the man showed himself again. This time for a bit longer. Again Rapp did nothing.
Finally the shadow came out from behind the truck and began skirting the cliff. Rapp gave him a long leash, hoping that his companions would get overconfident and follow. When he started climbing toward Rapp’s position, though, it became clear that the other surviving men had decided to sit tight and wait for reinforcements.
Rapp fired a single shot, hitting the man in the stomach and sending him toppling back to the road. A few shouts followed but no one was stupid enough to go to the aid of their wounded companion. Not a big surprise, but it had been worth a try.
A few minutes passed quietly before headlights appeared to the south. Rapp watched them as excited voices once again became audible below. Four vehicles coming fast. Whatever Gaffar’s head start was, it would have to be enough.
Rapp stood and began running into the desert as the convoy continued to bear down. He figured he was about doubling Gaffar’s pace, slowed slightly by the fact that the only way for him to navigate to the LZ was to follow the man’s tracks in the moonlight.
He’d only made it about five hundred yards when the shooting started. It sounded like the reinforcements had arrived and that all of them were firing on full auto. No point in looking back. He assumed that they’d pulverize the top of the cliff he’d been staked out on and then charged en masse. ISIS was not known for its subtlety.
He covered another quarter mile before temporarily losing Gaffar’s footprints on a rocky plateau. The man was smart enough not to change direction, and Rapp picked them up again in the sand on the other side.
The news wasn’t all good, though. Behind, he could see no fewer than ten flashlights coming his way. The lead one was using the advantage of artificial illumination to good effect and actually seemed to be closing. Rapp considered abandoning Gaffar’s tracks in favor of speed, but it wasn’t time for that yet. There was a whole lot of desert out there.
To the east, a dull glow was starting on the horizon. The light improved his speed, but it also robbed him of his cover—something that became evident when shots sounded behind him. He glanced back and estimated the distance to the closest chaser at more than six hundred yards. A doable shot with the right equipment and training, but they seemed to have neither. Just a little youthful jihadi enthusiasm.
The question was how long this was going to go on. Did Marcus have a position on him? Was Fred willing to fly in on a force of probably thirty armed men?
His question was answered a moment later when the thump of rotors became audible ahead. With the sunlight angling in, he was able to pick up his pace to the maximum his lungs would allow, increasing the gap between him and his pursuers. If he could gain some ground, the chopper would be able to touch down long enough to get him aboard.
Apparently, Mason didn’t want to wait. He passed overhead, banking north as the sound of his door gun shook the air. Rapp glanced back and saw the arcing laser light of the tracers sweeping across the ISIS force. He kept pushing, dropping his rifle to get rid of as much weight as possible as he angled down a steep slope. It was a risky move that could give ISIS the high ground, but if he moved fast enough, it would provide temporary cover.
The door gun went silent, replaced by the roar of rotors. The chopper came in low enough for him to feel the pressure of its downdraft. The skids were still two feet above the ground when Rapp dove through the open door. Mason started climbing again as Mohammed pulled Rapp the rest of the way inside and Gaffar opened up with the door gun again. The terrorists managed to get off a few shots, but none came anywhere near them as they turned toward the sunrise.
CHAPTER 6
