I sighed with relief as I realized that Zach was safe. My attention was drawn back to the ranting Larry. He screamed at his men about their incompetence, and I had to grin as I saw their problem. Seven flat tires and they only came up with five spares. They were going to have to lose a vehicle.
He finally seemed to calm down enough to accept that fact and was soon yelling orders at his men to get two vehicles going, the machine gun and the two good tires off the final Humvee. I watched closely as two men pulled out simple socket sets and unbolted the makeshift mounting rig from the roof. They carried the big gun with them as they piled in the remaining vehicles and drove away.
Ken slumped down next to me, his relief obvious. “When he pulled Zach up like that, I was afraid he was going to do something stupid for a second there.”
“I don’t think he can.”
“How’s that?”
“It’s something Larry told me the first time I met him, back on D-day. Something about Han.” I explained what Larry had said about his teacher.
“So he can’t kill Zach without alienating his teacher?”
I nodded. “His teacher, his bodyguard, and I’ll bet Han is also one of the main reasons his men have stuck with him so long. He’s a combination mascot and enforcer.”
Ken smiled. “So if Han leaves Larry…”
“I’ll bet a good portion of his men leave, too.”
“Best news I’ve had all day.”
“All right. So, we stopped one Humvee, and two others left with leaking radiators. And I’d guess we used less than a dozen shots.”
I put the binoculars back in their case. “And Larry’s boys used considerably more than that.”
“Yep. And I guarantee you they’ll be traveling a lot slower now, too.”
“Um, Ken?”
“Yeah?”
“Do
Ken laughed and called Billy over. “Billy, see how many spare tires we have in this group that might fit that Humvee. If you can find four, then we just got another vehicle.”
We got another vehicle.
The tension between Megan and me eased some the next day, and she joined us in the Humvee during our second attempt to get around Larry’s troop for an ambush. Ken’s driving reminded me of the wild trip in the pickup on the day of the Kindley massacre. Unfortunately, there was something we hadn’t counted on this morning.
Again, the idea behind an ambush was simple. One side attempts to catch the other by surprise and strikes hard and fast.
They hit us just before our turn off. Our Humvee was in the lead when a storm of bullets sent us on a sudden swerving, bumping, sliding trip down the steep embankment that took us off the road. Our trip ended abruptly when the Humvee and a pine tree teamed up to prove quantum physics correct-two objects could not occupy the same space at the same time, no matter how much force was put into the attempt.
I sat stunned for a second, but the recurring whine of passing bullets and the sudden cries of the battle brought me quickly back to the moment. In the back seat, Debra stirred and groaned, and I turned to make sure she was all right. Her eyes didn’t seem to quite focus properly.
“Good. Get Megan and get out on her side!”
I turned to Ken and was surprised to find him still in the driver’s seat. I had half-expected to find him already out and running toward the fight. Instead, he was turned away from me, bent over and rocking back and forth. I watched with horror as blood began pooling in his seat. “Oh, shit!” I yelled at Debra. “Open Ken’s door! He’s hit!”
She still seemed dazed, so Cindy pushed past her and yanked it open. I pushed, she pulled, and Ken tumbled to the ground with a yell.
Debra knelt beside him. “He got one in the leg.” She took off her belt and tightened it around the limb. “Went all the way through.” She and Cindy checked him for other wounds while Megan and I watched for approaching enemies.
Finally, Debra called out that she was satisfied that his leg was the only injury. “It doesn’t look like he’s hurt too badly. It missed the femoral artery completely. But we have to get him back to Rejas.”
Ken had stopped his moaning. “Bullshit,” he spat through clenched teeth.
“Damn it, Ken,” I said. “This isn’t the time for you to play the damned hero. You’re going back to the hospital.”
Ken shook his head, and I thought he was going to argue. Then he hissed through clenched teeth, “Not bullshit to the hospital, bullshit to me not hurting too badly. This hurts like a son-of-a-bitch!”
Cindy grinned through her tears. “He’ll be all right.” We all ducked as another burst of gunfire sounded from the trees on the other side of the Humvee. “Assuming we get him out of here, that is.”
Our wreck had not only taken us off the main road, but had also separated us from the rest of our convoy. For the moment at least, no one seemed to notice us, and most of the gunfire remained concentrated about fifty yards up the road.
Larry had evidently greatly underestimated the size of our group, and I saw several of our Humvees and four-by-four trucks wheel off-road into the forest to flank his troops.
Fifty calibers notwithstanding, the enemy troops quickly realized just how greatly they were outnumbered and, as our flankers opened fire, they found themselves about to be outmaneuvered, as well. It took less than five minutes to completely rout them. Five frustrating minutes during which I could do nothing but sit and guard Ken.
Debra and Megan looked like they felt the same way. Just a few minutes after the shooting stopped, I saw Debra tense and signal Megan and me.
I slipped up beside her. “What is it?”
“Something moving up on the road.” She pointed. I saw a furtive movement on the road where we had slid down the embankment.
“There’s another one.” Megan raised her rifle.
Then Sarah stepped into the open where we could see her. “Sensei?”
We all sagged with relief. “Down here!” I yelled. “Sarah! Ken’s hit. We need to get him back to town.”
“We’re on our way!” She slid down the embankment to where we sat with Ken.
All in all, we lost four people and three vehicles. Seven more people, including Ken, were injured badly enough to warrant sending them back to Rejas. That meant that we also had to send people and vehicles back to care for them during the trip. By the time all was said and done, our group was down to eighty-six people and seventeen Humvees, pickups, and station wagons. In order to get our wounded back to safety, we had to send them in three vehicles, cutting our resources even more.
I walked back to the rear window of the lead wagon. Ken lay inside sleeping with his head in Cindy’s lap. “Take care of him, Cindy. We’ve all gotten used to his ugly face.”
She smiled. “I will. You just concentrate on getting that boy back.”
I walked up to the driver’s door where Debra sat behind the wheel. Leaning through the window, I kissed her softly, worried at the thought of being separated from her in dangerous territory, yet relieved that she would be out of the coming fight. She had as much knowledge of first aid as anyone in the group and would be more of a help with the wounded than in a battle. “Bring Zachary back.” I nodded. “And you come back, too.”
“You got it. “
Once more, she kissed me and cupped my cheek, then she started the engine. Through misty eyes, she ordered, “Go get my son.”
“I promise.”
