One Rough Man

I peeked around the Pajero, talking over my shoulder to Jennifer. “What in the hell was that all about?”

“Beats me,” Jennifer said, breathing hard. “I was winging it, but it worked.”

I pulled back around. “Man, I’ve seen some seat-of-the-pants shit before, but this is an absolute record.”

I saw her laugh, apparently completely confident that everything would now turn out perfect. She doesn’t get it. She’s used to miracles happening. I knew the truth. I was facing three trained killers with two magazines of 9mm and shackled hands. I looked to our rear for an escape route and saw a hill rise about seventy-five feet. We go that way and we’ll be cut down for sure. I knew what I would do if the roles were reversed — put suppressive fire on our position while maneuvering a force to flank us. Once they got on the high ground, with no cover between us and another gunman to our rear, we would be dead. There wasn’t a lot I could do about it, since the odds of killing all three while they used the car for cover were just about nonexistent. Shit. We’re going to need another miracle.

92

I poked my head up to get another read, immediately drawing a fusillade of fire. In that glimpse I had seen two men preparing to flank us. In order to do so, they would have to cross the road, traversing about forty feet of open ground. I leaned around the front of the SUV, keeping low, and saw them begin to move. I snapped off a few rounds, driving them back, but drew fire on my new position in return, forcing me to jerk back behind the Pajero.

Jennifer, still oblivious to our peril, asked, “What are we waiting for? What are we going to do?”

“Jennifer… we’re in deep shit. I’m not sure what we’re going to do. Once they get to the high ground in back of us, we’re dead. The only thing that runs through my head is the ending of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.”

Jennifer’s smile faltered, the predicament finally getting through. “How are we getting away?”

I peeked around the front of the Pajero again, seeing the two men making another break, both armed with assault rifles. I was able to snap off three rounds before being driven back, thinking I had winged one of the men, but ultimately unsure. They made it across the open ground. I rolled back around, leaning against the frame of the Pajero. Fuck. We’re done.

“This is it. I want you to crawl underneath the SUV. They’re going to reach the high ground in about a minute. From there, they’ll kill us both. Once I start shooting, I want you to roll out the other side and run across the road, into the underbrush. Run down the hill as fast as you can. With any luck the other guy will be focused on the firefight and won’t be able to get a clean shot at you. Once you’re in the woods, keep going. Don’t stop for anything. Run until you hit another car or a town.”

Jennifer sat still, the implications of the plan sinking in.

“What about you?” she said. “What are you going to do?”

I couldn’t meet her eyes. “I’ll find you in the town. Okay?”

“No, no, no. I’m not doing that. Let’s both run.”

Please don’t make this hard. “Look, someone has to pin them down so the other can make the run. Since you can’t shoot, that leaves me. Please, get underneath the damn truck. We’re out of time.”

Jennifer’s face flushed. She started to say something else but thought better of it. She leaned close and gave me a peck on the cheek. I saw her eyes begin to water.

She said, “I’ll see you in the town.”

I leaned back, resigned to what was coming. Make no mistake, I wanted to live. But I had a greater responsibility to Jennifer. There was no way I was going to let her die. I was disappointed at how my life would end, but not tragically so. I had had a good run. My only shame was the mess I had become over the last year. Just when I crawl out of the sewer, I get killed. What a waste. God seemed to enjoy knocking me around. I just hoped my death would be enough entertainment. Let Jennifer live. You’re getting me. You’ll have my entire fucking family. Isn’t that enough? Please let her get out of here.

I looked at the sky, seeing the contrails of a jet high overhead, wondering where it was going. I thought about Carlos, running loose with a device that would kill hundreds, if not thousands, hoping someone else would be able to stop him. I saw a helicopter in the distance, lazily circling as if looking for something. I felt a spring breeze against my face, light and warm, rustling the tree branches. Why have I never taken the time to enjoy that before? I wondered if my life had been good enough to earn the right to see Angie and Heather in heaven. I checked my weapon, saying another silent prayer for enough speed to give Jennifer a chance to escape. Don’t let them kill me quickly.

I scanned the hillside and picked up a glint of metal in the sunlight at the top. It’s time.

I dropped the half-empty magazine from the Glock, loading in a full one and laying out the other full one on the ground. I waited for the fight.

“They’re at the top of the hill. Hold for about five rounds before running. Once you start, do not stop. Don’t look back at me. Don’t worry about the gunfire. Do you understand?”

I could hear Jennifer sobbing, ripping into my soul. Jesus. Don’t cry. It’s okay.

“Yes… I understand. Pike… don’t die. I… I… Please don’t die.”

As I formed my answer, knowing that these words would be my last on earth, my pager began to vibrate. What the hell? The screen said: Mark your position. Mark your position. Coming in hot. I stared at the pager for a split second before the truth sank in.

“Get out from underneath the truck! Take off your headscarf and start waving it. Hurry.”

She wiggled out, ripping off the scarf and waving it back and forth like she was in a lifeboat in the middle of the ocean.

“What’s up? Why am I doing this?”

Someone else is God’s entertainment. Someone who fucking deserves it. “It’s the cavalry. Stand by. These assholes are dead.”

The pager vibrated again with a single word: Marked.

The world had returned to level, all doubt and fear banished by that simple message. I had been given an incredible gift. A miracle.

The feeling of relief was short-lived as the air around us snapped with supersonic rounds puncturing the steel of the Pajero. Shit. We’re out of time.

“Get back underneath the truck. Move!”

I shoved Jennifer bodily backward, then began raking the hillside with the Glock, hitting nothing but hoping to suppress the incoming fire. Bullets were chewing up the ground around us, causing a feral fear to surface. So fucking close. Not fair. I got Jennifer behind the wheel well, jammed underneath the axle, and turned to fight. The two men were coming fast, one firing while the other moved, flip-flopping down the slope. I snapped off the remaining rounds in the first magazine and reloaded, traversing the hillside to draw the fire away from Jennifer’s position. I dove behind the cover of a large tree, the ground around me exploding in pops like someone was working a Weed Eater against the trunk. Where’s the fucking cavalry?

I could tell who was moving and who was shooting because there was a pregnant pause in the fire each time they transitioned. I waited for it, then rolled to the right, attempting to keep them from flanking me or closing on Jennifer. I knew it was ridiculously stupid, but if I didn’t even up the odds, we were both dead, and the small gap was all I had in my favor. If I did it right, I’d be facing the man on the move, and he’d block the shot of the guy providing the suppressive fire.

As soon as I aimed the Glock, I knew I was dead. I had picked the wrong side. The man to the left was moving, and I was facing the barrel of the man to the right, aimed directly at my head fifty meters away. Too far to hit with the pistol, but easy for the assault rifle. Fuck.