The Barracks, The Devil's Footprint,
Tecuno, Mexico
Rheiman made sure the small window was covered and then lit the six candles he had brought. He liked to look at her by candlelight, and he had made the occasions something of a ritual.
It was his eighth visit, she thought. Her mental makeup, she was discovering, was tougher than she would ever have believed.
Rheiman had undressed her after his last visit, and as her soiled clothing was removed she had expected the inevitable to follow. There was not much she could do to resist. A chained victim was every rapist's dream. But he had not raped her. Instead, he washed her and tended to her cuts and bruises and gave her water and extra food and vitamin pills and antibiotics. He was saving her life.
The Voice and the other terrorists thought he was screwing her every time he visited, but all he actually wanted to do was undress her and look at her by candlelight and talk.
And his talk was not sexual. He talked of his creation and the destruction it would wreak and the fame it would bring. He talked of the missile it would carry and the lethal nerve agent it would carry. He digressed into technicalities and explained at length why hydrogen was a superior propellant to anything Bull had ever thought up.
It came to Kathleen with some force that her plight was of little significance in the scheme of things. The carnage that Rheiman's warped mind threatened to let loose must be stopped.
He talked on, and Kathleen encouraged him. He held her hand.
Chifune prepared to enter Kathleen's door.
Freeman turned the handle and flung it open. There seemed to be candles everywhere, and she could see a naked figure chained to the wall.
'FRIENDS, KATHLEEN!' she shouted.
Kathleen! It did not look like her at first. The contrast between the beautiful full-bodied woman she had met in Ireland and this abused figure was truly shocking.
Bile rose in her throat.
She took in another figure, a European in desert khakis, and was within a tenth of a second of shooting him when Kathleen screamed. 'NO! NO! DON'T KILL HIM. WE NEED HIM.'
Chifune grunted, and smashed Rheiman against the wall.
She spun him around and tied his wrists with plasticuffs. She had a great desire to put a burst through his head, but she heard Kathleen's plea, and if she, who had been through all this, wanted the bastard kept alive there had to be a good reason.
There had better be, or she would kill him where he stood.
Freeman removed the hostage's blindfold, then took the bolt cutters from a belt pouch and cut through the chains. Kathleen! It was definitely her. She was crying and gesturing toward the man in khaki. 'You mustn't kill him. We need him. He knows.'
Freeman wrapped her clothes around her and then a bulletproof vest. 'Hugo is outside,' he said. 'We're taking you home.' He indicated Rheiman. 'What about this fuck? Friend or enemy?'
Kathleen looked at him, her hands rubbing her eyes. 'He's one of them,' she said, 'but we must take him. He knows too much.'
'Roger that,' said Freeman. He picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. He was used to exercising with a hundred-and-fifty-pound pack. She felt disturbingly light.
'Shadow One,' said Chifune. 'Yaibo barracks clear and we have Kathleen. She's okay. We have a prisoner. Leaving now.'
'Roger that, Shadow Two,' said Fitzduane. He felt light-headed with relief at the news, but fought to keep his mind focused. 'Move it fucking fast. We have visitors coming up the perimeter road from the southern. ETA less than five minutes.'
A prisoner? There were to be no prisoners. Chifune knew that as well as anyone, so there had to be a reason.
'Shadow Four,' said the Brick. He was inside the supergun bunker working on the firing mechanism, aided by Hayden, while Sergeant Oga kept watch outside. The shattered bodies of the Yaibo guards lay where they had fallen. The work was demanding. 'We are in, but we need a minimum seven to ten minutes more – I repeat, seven to ten.'
Fitzduane made a quick assessment.
He currently had four teams inside the camps. Two had neutralized the Yaibo barracks and looked like they would get out in time, but the remaining two units would be cut off when the approaching column arrived.
It would occupy the road end to end, from the main camp to way beyond the supergun valley. It was dark, and he considered having them infiltrate the column, but that would mean leaving the Guntracks, and they still had to make the pickup point forty kilometers away. The logic was simple and the outcome would be bloody, but there was very little choice.
The lights flickered as the generator in the main camp coughed and then died again. Suddenly it was dark. Chifune and the five other members of her assault group ran for the main gates and then across the perimeter road to their waiting Guntracks.
'I'm going to thin out the approaching column,' said Fitzduane. 'Heavy shit for the next ten minutes and then we all bug out for the emergency RV. Acknowledge.'
The four teams acknowledged in numerical order.
'Go! Go! Go!' said Fitzduane. 'Calvin, where the fuck are you?'
There was no reply.
Fitzduane's Shadow One shot forward toward the approaching column. The Guntrack was maneuvering through the low hills beside the perimeter road, travelling a roughly parallel route.
In a little over a minute they would be side by side, separated by little more than a hundred meters but traveling in opposite directions. It was, Fitzduane reflected briefly as he roared toward the T55 tank that headed the column, almost a modern version of medieval jousting, except that only one side knew he had an enemy to deal with. The Guntracks had not been detected.
This was not a joust. It was war. It was the business of killing. Fair play did not come into it.
Fitzduane spoke into his microphone on the internal net, and Steve Kent slewed to a halt and crept into a firing position shielded by a rocky outcrop.
Lee Cochrane readied the. 50 GECAL heavy machine gun.
Fitzduane brought his RAW up to the point of aim.
A T55 tank looked disconcertingly formidable to rifle-equipped infantry and was strongly armored at the front, but it was vulnerable from the side and at the rear engine compartment. And Shadow One would be firing down, which would help. Tanks were thinly armored at the top. It was a matter of keeping the weight down. Maximum armor everywhere had the same effect as on a knight of old. The end result was unwieldy and virtually too heavy to move.
The T55 ground tank passed them, treads squealing in protest. This was a tank that had been six months on routine patrols and needed tender loving care from the maintenance shop. It did not get it. A split second after the RAW smashed into its engine compartment it ignited, flames jetting into the darkness.
Fitzduane fitted another RAW and fired at the next vehicle, an armored personnel carrier. The vehicle exploded.
Troop-laden trucks following the two lead vehicles braked to avoid crashing into the burning wrecks, and several crashed into each other. Soldiers poured out of the backs of the trucks, and it was into this chaos that the rotating-barreled. 50 GECAL began to fire.
Seconds afterward, Shadow Four leapfrogged Fitzduane and headed down to the end of the column, guns blazing and extending the slaughter. Shortly afterward, the Brick aimed his Dilger's Baby at the vehicle bringing up the rear.
There was an earsplitting crack and a tongue of flame, and the uranium-depleted projectile smashed through
