Gibbs nodded and smiled. He handed the cloth bag back. ‘It’s not that I don’t appreciate this, but I’d like to trade it for what is under that tarpaulin at the end of the hall.’
The warlord smiled a skewed smile. ‘The NAG parked that here a long while ago so you can have it. I have no use for it.’
‘Thank you, warlord,’ Gibbs said and shook his hand before jogging over to the large mass covered with a fading green tarpaulin. ‘Smithy, help me here,’ he shouted.
As they pulled back the cover, a brand new NAG battle truck came into view. Clean and shiny in its dark green paint, it had eight rows of steerable wheels, with front, back and side armour. Shooting slits were present along the armoured sides of the vehicle. Gibbs knew that there were three roof openings for larger machine guns to be mounted. All the newer models had them.
‘Wow,’ Smithy said. ‘Ain’t she a beauty.’
‘Load all the ammunition into this truck, folks. And someone go and tell Stuart and Warren not to spend more time preparing the old truck. Get them to unpack it all. We have a new ride,’ Gibbs said.
Twenty minutes later, Gibbs turned to the warlord. ‘We’re all done, sir. Thanks again for your help.’
The man bowed his head. ‘I’ll have to report this all stolen when the NAG get here.’ Gibbs nodded. ‘Just another heads-up, they’re using a man called the Bounty Hunter to capture you. He’s a sociopath who’s got a team of men with him including two Indian trackers. They are all ruthless hunters. If you have him on your tail, then you will need all the help that you can get.’
‘We’ve been on the run for a long while now,’ Gibbs said. ‘You get used to someone chasing you.’
‘But not a bloodhound like this. I don’t know any other man with a reputation like his. Well, except maybe for you.’
‘I guess if he catches up with us, we’ll know how good he is.’
‘Don’t be flippant about this man. You have to be as unpredictable as you can and go against your military nature and instinct. He knows who you are, so will try and think like you every step of the way.’
‘Thanks for the heads-up, warlord,’ Gibbs said.
‘One more thing,’ the warlord said. ‘You have to lay me out cold.’
‘What?’
‘We have to make this all believable, and they won’t buy the story that I tried to stop you unless you knock me out.’
Gibbs looked at Smithy and then swung a right hook into the man’s face, cracking his nose. A left slammed into the man’s jaw and spun him around as he went down onto the floor, falling onto his shoulder, unable to break his fall without a left hand. He groaned and looked down at the blood dripping to the floor.
‘Sorry about that,’ Gibbs said. ‘Thanks for everything. You’ve been a big help.’
The man gave him a thumbs up to him and rolled onto his back on the concrete. Gibbs turned and walked to the front door of the truck, pulling himself up into the cab.
• • •
Steam billowed from the overflow pipe as the reactor went into overdrive charging the flat hydrogen batteries. The pressure valves opened for a second, belching more steam to the sides of the truck like an old steam engine.
‘You all ready to go, boss,’ Smithy said.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ Gibbs replied, looking back at Stuart who was strapped into one of the swivel chairs that could be hoisted through the roof on a mechanised pulley system. He looked back and gave a thumbs up. A warm feeling swept through Gibbs. Checking his rearview mirror, he could see the old fusion van that Warren was driving. They inched forward as Gibbs started building pressure in all the hydraulics for the steering brakes and thermal fans. Looking ahead down the narrow alley, he could see men and women leaning out of the accommodation block, waving ribbons and sheets. He felt the weight of the piece of ribbon in his pocket. A weight that would only be lifted when Rebus was gone.
‘What the hell?’ he said, braking hard as two men jumped out from a hidden doorway into the middle of the road. He recognised them instantly. Reaching down to a holster strapped to the driver’s chair, he pulled out a Glock. Smithy instinctively did the same, as Gibbs stepped back between the two front seats and down into the back area then moved to the side door. Pushing the heavy armoured door open, he jumped down onto the dusty street.
‘Got your back, boss,’ Smithy said from behind him.
Gibbs moved between the truck and the wall, his Glock raised, walking into the sunlight as he lined up the gun sights on one of the men. Both were dressed in oversized khaki army jackets with dark pants tucked into books. They wore the blue armbands of perimeter wall guards. ‘Hello, gentlemen.’
‘Don’t shoot.’
‘You two were standing near the warlord and myself when Stuart ran up to me, were you not?’
They nodded as their hands went upwards.
‘Now, I know that you overheard Stuart and my conversation. Who did you tell about it?’
‘No one. We promise.’
‘Boss, what is the problem?’ Smithy asked.
‘What you’re telling me, gentlemen, is that you told nobody in the enclave that the Hooded Man has a son,’ Gibbs said. ‘Is that what I’m to believe?’
‘Did they overhear you?’ Smithy asked.
Gibbs nodded.
‘Let’s take them out into the Floodlands,’ Smithy said. ‘No one will find their bodies.’
‘Please don’t kill us,’ the blond man said. ‘We did hear you but swear that we told no one. We’ll take the secret to our graves.’
Smithy clicked the hammer back on his new Glock. ‘The grave it is then.’
‘Hear us out please,’ said the man with brown hair.
Gibbs raised his hand in front of Smithy. ‘We’re on a deadline here so out with it.’
‘We want to come with you. We want to join your cause and leave this bloody place.’
‘Why would you want to leave the safety of this place?’ Gibbs said.’ You have everything here.’
‘Rebus and his gang took both our families. Wives, children and parents. All of them.’
‘But you survived?’ Smithy said.
‘Our ranches were out in the desert, and we were away doing business when they hit our shared homestead. We got back just in time to bury them before the buzzards got to them. After that, we decided to come back here.’
‘You do realise we’re on the run from the NAG, and will come across many gangs along the way? You still want to join us on that journey?’
The man with the brown hair stepped forward, showing them his hands. there were four fingers missing. ‘A gang member did this, so I want revenge on Rebus and all of his kind who are killing and torturing us hardworking folks.’
‘I understand that you feel the need to avenge your loved ones, but it takes a braver man to stay here and build a new life than it does to keep running and fighting. You’ll always be looking over your shoulder, and the thirst for revenge will never be quenched, resulting in only more hurt. Surely you can understand that?’ Gibbs said.
The blond man stepped forward. ‘That is our choice to make, and we’ve made it. We have nothing left here and can be of more help to you. You have a son. I‘m sure you want to protect him more than anything else, and we can help do that. Safety in numbers.’
Gibbs felt an uneasiness welling inside him. Plans change all the time. Instinct told him they were right.
‘Smithy? What do you think?’
‘Boss, we need to get Warren into the battle truck. He is struggling to move on that bloody knee, and while he’s as tough as old leather, I think we can pop him onto the back machine gun turret. His sniper skills would be better suited there.’
Gibbs nodded. ‘I suppose that Stuart and he are better suited to be together than entrusting Stuart with one of these men.’
‘Mr. Gibbs? We can be trusted, sir.’
‘It’ll take time to earn that trust, so let’s just start with your names.’
‘We’re both call
ed Mike.’
Gibbs looked at Smithy.
The blond man stepped forward with his hand out. ‘But, everyone here calls me Blondie.’
‘And I’m called Fingers,’ the man with the brown hair said, waving one of his hands.
‘Of course you are,’ Smithy said, grinning from ear to ear.
Gibbs shook their hands. ‘Go and relieve Warren from the fusion van. You two are in charge of that vehicle, so stay close. You will function both as scouts or an escape vehicle for Stuart.’
Both men grinned, darting into the doorway, reaching for some bags, before running past them to the van.
‘Don’t you just love how our numbers keep dwindling?’ Smithy said.
‘Shut up,’ Gibbs said, feeling a wet nose nuzzling his hand. He went down on his haunches and rubbed Toby’s face. ‘Not a word out of you either.’
Chapter 21
Tennessee, USA – 2043
‘So much for heading down to Mexico for a fucking quiet life,’ Smithy said, reclining in the passenger seat of the truck, his boots up on the expanse of the black plastic dashboard. Playing with a hunting knife, he slid it forward and backwards along a moist sharpening stone. Warren had taken a seat behind them and was watching the two up front, rubbing his knee, waiting for the drugs to kick in. It felt good not to have to drive the bouncing van for a while. He could be of more use in the truck and wanted to make up for Maddy’s death.
‘That was the general thinking before Rebus killed Maddy,’ Gibbs said, looking at Smithy. ‘Plans change, so try to keep up.’
‘There’s no keeping up with your planning as it all happens in your head and I’m not a mind reader,’ Smithy said.
‘You’re not much of a reader of anything,’ Warren said.
Gibbs laughed. ‘And Smithy gets burned.’
Smithy turned and gave Warren the middle finger. ‘How would you like a bullet in the other knee?’
‘Truth hurts, SAS man,’ Warren said, as he lit a small joint and took a long hit. The pain would soon be gone.
‘I’ve asked you not to smoke weed in front of the kid,’ Gibbs said.
‘In case you haven’t noticed, Gibbs, I’m not a child anymore,’ Stuart said, from a gunner’s seat along the side of the truck. ‘Besides, he needs it for the pain.’
Warren felt a warmth for Stuart who was like the little brother he never had.
Smithy laughed. ‘A day for the diary. Bossman gets burned by his offspring.’
‘Carry on like that, and I’ll leave you both here in the bloody desert,’ Gibbs said.
‘It would be nice to see Smithy disappear into the distance,’ Warren said, surrounded by a cloud of smoke.
‘A bullet meeting your other knee is looking more of a certainty.’
Warren chuckled. ‘Don’t forget that it’s because of you that I have the first one. Be nice to have a pair.’
Smithy’s mouth opened then he shut it again.
Warren smiled as the weed did its job. He was pain-free again, and the leg moved freely.
Smithy looked back at him. ‘Yes, it was my fault. I‘ve apologised like a million times. Things happen quickly on an operation.’
‘I told you that attack would end in misery,’ Gibbs said, looking at Smithy. ‘Your planning was crap, and you nearly got Warren killed.’
Smithy flashed the middle finger again. ‘Because you’ve never had a mission go pear-shaped, but sure, keep rubbing it in, Mr Perfection.’
Warren laughed. ‘You two are like an old married couple, you know. Always whining and bickering. You’ve spent way too much time together.’
‘And the understatement of the century goes to Hop-along,’ Smithy said. ‘We’re stuck with each other in case you hadn’t noticed through all that smoke.’
‘There you go moaning again. I’ll just be glad when the fighting stops, and we’re able to make a life for all of us somewhere. It was the plan all along,’ Gibbs said.
Smithy nodded. ‘Until Rebus came along.’
‘I have a feeling there will always be a Rebus down the line. We’ve been fighting for thirty years. I think we attract it,’ Gibbs said.
‘Do you think we’ll find the same crap in Mexico or South America? Never met anyone from down there to ask.’
‘Possibly, but we have to make a go of it so Stuart can have a chance at a fairly normal life.’
‘The problem is you cannot just leave people along the way after helping them,’ Smithy said.
‘We also can’t just keep accumulating stragglers for them only to get caught in the crossfire,’ Gibbs said as Toby barked and padded over to Stuart’s seat. ‘Yes, and no more animals either. I’m tired of this travelling circus.’
‘It’s been a real bitch of a journey, but we’re lucky to have the survival skills we have, so we can help where we can. You’re the Hooded Man for fucksakes. That’s a reputation that will follow you forever.’
‘Hey, I never asked for that bloody nickname, and it’s not as great as people think,’ Gibbs said and glared in the side mirror. ‘Maybe we should let Stuart ride with them. We need to keep him separated from me.’
‘I can handle myself, Gibbs,’ Stuart said.
Warren blew out more smoke. ‘He’s become a great little warrior, Gibbs. Let’s stop and let him drive with them. You need to start focusing on all of us as a team. You know, get your head back in the game after Maddy.’
Gibbs nodded and started to slow the truck down.
Chapter 22
Eagleton Village, Maryville, Tennessee, USA – 2043
‘It looks like as good a time as any to kill a few people.’
Enyo walked over to him as he stood naked in front of the mirror. He was a fine specimen. Chiselled features that were getting more defined as he worked out with his warrior princess. She walked up behind him, and he felt her small breasts press up against his back. Her hands slid around his torso and up to his bare chest. She smiled at him and then let her hand slide down his torso.
‘Easy there, my love. We cannot spend the whole day in bed. I have things to do. Prisoners to sort out and the 38s to keep in line.’
‘Let Skink take care of those things,’ Enyo said.
‘You think that he’s an idiot, but now you want him to do more things around here.’
‘Yes I do, but now I know more about you and him, I think family is important, whatever that looks like. He’s also so scared of you that he’ll do anything that you tell him,’ Enyo said, looking back at the bed to the girl who was rolling over in the white sheet. ‘We could get another from the harem to play with.’
Rebus smiled. ‘Or, we could go and look through the prisoners and find a new Luka.’
‘There was only one Luka, my love,’ she said, taking a step back and reaching for her clothes on a chair near the bed. ‘But, you’re right. Let’s get out for a while.’
Rebus put his sunglasses on as he stepped out the truck door and into the bright daylight. The cladding and corrugated perspex, which his men kept adding to the roof of the factory where they were based, was creating more shade every day. He looked up to see that they were about halfway across the open roof area. This was not the headquarters he yearned for, but that would come once they had taken over an enclave and he’d become a warlord.
‘Who do we have here?’ he said, walking towards fifty or more naked people standing huddled together on the concrete area. They were standing in the bright sunlight, illuminating their bodies. An elderly woman had sunk to her knees.
‘Slave trader? Why are you bringing me old women, again?’ Rebus said, pointing to a part of the group.
A tall man with a huge belly waddled forward. Sweat beads on his bald head flowed down his temples and face. He reached into his baggy brown trousers and grabbed a dirty cloth to wipe his face.
‘She’s a seamstress and tailor all rolled into one. Luka said he wanted one to make you more clothes.’
Rebus felt himself choking up a little.
&nbs
p; Enyo stepped forward. ‘Luka is no longer with us, Roger. Killed by the scum in the Knoxville enclave.’
Roger bowed slightly. ‘My condolences, Rebus.’
‘Thank you, Roger. He would have loved to make us more clothes. This woman looks like she’s at the end of her life though.’
‘It was a hard journey from the Floodlands. The mosquitos have gotten worse this year, and we had a few malaria cases. I was forced to put a few out of their misery. A tragic financial loss for me.’
Rebus grabbed the Glock on his hip and shot the woman through the head. Roger recoiled as the woman fell at his feet. ‘Rebus, it cost me a lot to get her here. She could have recovered with a few days of water and food.’
Rebus walked forward and scanned the heads of the prisoners. He raised the back of his hand to his nose as the stench of unwashed flesh burnt his nostrils. ‘Could you not have washed them off in a river before you brought them to see me?’
‘That would increase my costs, Rebus. You said that you wanted them at a cheaper rate.’
Rebus started getting angry. Another older woman was now crying and looking down at the body of her friend. Rebus raised the gun to pull the trigger. Nothing. He checked the side of the Glock and sighed. Lowering the pistol, he looked at the crying woman. ‘Bear with me, please,’ he said, jiggling the top pistol slide backwards and forwards until the spent cartridge fell out and the slide snapped shut, chambering another round. He raised the Glock and shot her.
‘Can you all stop crying. You are prisoners of the 38 Street Roadsters now. I am Rebus Maze, and I own you. Disappoint me in any way, and your body will be left for the turkey buzzards to enjoy,’ he said, pointing to two men who were off to the side. ‘Drag those two bodies away and wait with them until someone comes with a van to dispose of them.’
Skink, who was standing at the back of the group, marched a young boy and girl over to Rebus. ‘Will these do?’
Rebus looked at the two waifs. ‘Yes, they will do nicely.’
‘I’ll take them and clean them up,’ Skink said.
‘No, you won’t, nephew. That is Enyo’s role, and you know it.’
Rebus walked to Roger. ‘You have the other items that I ordered?’
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