She couldn’t see the other trooper. She’d been assigned to hold by the perimeter fence in case there was a counterattack. If she wasn’t there, the others would be trapped inside.
“Mac?” she yelled, turning around. There was no answer. She yelled again and called for him in Greek.
Tarid collapsed to the ground. With his wounded leg, he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Wait here, you,” Hera told him in English. “I return soon.”
Danny made his way back along the perimeter fence.
“Where’s Tarid?” he asked the Voice.
“Beyond the minefield.” The computer gave him the GPS coordinates.
“Flash, Hera, we’re out of here.”
“I’m coming out,” said Flash.
“Hera?”
“I’m at the perimeter fence. I’m holding.”
“Good. Copy. Boston, get to the rendezvous point.”
“On it, Chief.”
“Nuri?”
“We’ll keep them occupied,” said Nuri. “See you soon.”
“Copy that,” said Danny.
Their mission was accomplished, but Danny had one more thing to do. He asked the computer to locate Tilia.
She was still inside.
“Is she alive?” he asked the computer.
“Unknown,” said the Voice.
The computer could locate people, and make judgments based on their movements, but it didn’t have the power to diagnose life or death. She hadn’t moved in several minutes, adding to its uncertainty.
“Lead me to her,” Danny told it.
Boston led his three mercenaries back from the rocks and trees where they’d taken shelter. Though the brush had been torn to pulp, no one was hurt. They jogged back to the truck, got in, and drove south and then back west, circling around the camp across the fallow fields before meeting Flash at the rendezvous point on the road west of the camp.
“Where’s McGowan?” asked Boston. He was supposed to be there, too.
Flash shrugged. “I don’t know. He should’ve been at the fence when we came out. I got out late and thought I’d find him back here, but I don’t see him. I haven’t heard him on the radio the entire operation.”
Neither had Boston.
“Hey, Colonel, you know where McGowan is?” he asked over the radio.
“He’s with me,” said Danny.
Tarid lay on the ground, trying to will away the pain of the bullet crease on his leg. He saw the vehicle down by the road, perhaps twenty yards away, and knew it must be Kirk’s.
So Kirk expected to be paid for helping him escape? Was it a reward or a ransom?
Whatever it was, he wasn’t getting it.
Tarid turned to the two men sitting nearby. They were staring into the distance, shell-shocked but unhurt.
“You two — come with me,” he said as he struggled to his feet.
Neither man moved.
“There’s a village north of here. Two kilometers,” said Tarid. “Saad Reth. I have a friend there who can help us. Come with me.”
One of the men blinked. That was the only acknowledgment that they had heard him.
“If you help me get to Saad Reth,” said Tarid slowly, pacing his Arabic, “I will make sure you are rewarded. One hundred euros apiece.”
The offer of more money than either man had handled in a lifetime stirred them to action. The man who had blinked was the first to rise. He helped his companion up, and together they started following Tarid, who was limping but moving along quickly.
“We have to stay away from the people who blew up the camp,” he told them. “Go, before they pay attention to us.”
“Saad Reth is a long walk from here,” said one of the men, noticing his limp.
“The distance doesn’t matter.” Tarid pushed himself forward. “The army will be after Kirk, and we’ll be long gone. Come. As fast as you can.”
Danny found Tilia hunched against the fence. Her fists were clenched and propped against the side of her head, arms crossed at the wrists. He knelt down and touched her shoulder.
“Tilia?”
Her body heaved but she didn’t raise her head or talk.
“Come on then,” said Danny. He scooped her up. She was light, incredibly light.
Nuri was still firing at the machine-gun posts on the north side of the camp, but there was only sporadic return fire. The Sudanese army officers were regrouping their men, mustering for a counterattack. The battle had seemed to last for an eternity, but barely ten minutes had passed since the Catbirds initiated the onslaught.
Hera was waiting at the fence when Danny arrived.
“Did you send Tarid through?” Danny asked.
“Yes. Where’s McGowan?”
“I know where he is. You think you can carry her?”
“Is she coming with us?”
“Yeah. We’ll drop her off along the way.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I don’t care what you think. Take her.”
Danny deposited Tilia on Hera’s shoulder. Hera didn’t say anything, turning and carrying her from the compound.
Danny went to the trench. He didn’t see McGowan. His heart leapt: He thought he’d been wrong about him being killed.
But the only mistake was where he had left him. A moment later Danny spotted him a little farther on in the trench.
As gently as he could, he picked up the battered body and double-timed it through the disabled portion of the minefield.
“Skipper, we got problems here,” said Boston over the radio. “Every one of these bastards wants to come with us. And I can’t find Tarid.”
Danny asked the Voice where Tarid was. It found him moving a quarter mile away, on the road west.
“It’s OK,” said Danny. “He’s escaping. Better that he gets away on his own.” Much better, he thought. “Hera’s bringing Tilia, Uncle Dpap’s translator.”
“Yeah, here she comes now.”
“I’m sixty seconds away.”
“What do I do with these people?”
“Tell them to run.”
Danny saw the small crowd ahead of him. Boston fired another burst, then pushed the prisoners away. They were angry and scared, but they were also depleted from the day spent without food. They began walking away from the camp, some north, some west.
“Jesus, is that McGowan?” said Boston as Danny put him in the SUV.
“Let’s go, Boston.”
“Shit.”
