‘You have a passenger, I see,’ Gibbs said, walking over to him. Stuart walked over to the girl and started talking to her.
‘Thought he needed company,’ Smithy said.
‘Sure you did.’
‘She was being raped by three gang members when we interrupted them.’
Gibbs looked back to the van. ‘Let me guess, you killed them all.’
‘We had one prisoner for a while, but he wouldn’t say anything about Rebus. Grace over there refused to get into the van with him in it. It would have been a tight fit, and I thought that she’d been through enough.’
‘So, we have no further information about Rebus and our group is getting larger again.’
‘I thought that you’d like that,’ Smithy said. ‘The more, the merrier, I think.’
‘Did you scavenge their vehicle?’
‘Nah. I wanted to get her to the safety of the truck. We can go back and look through the van later,’ Smithy said, taking a sip of water from a metal bottle. ‘I know how you feel about stragglers and interrogating prisoners, but I couldn’t leave her there.’
Gibbs held his hand up. ‘It’s all good, mate. You did the right thing.’
Smithy felt his mouth drop open. ‘Come again?’
‘You and I have been at each other’s throats for a while now. We need to leave that shit alone for a while because we have a job to do. If we pick up a few folks that need help, then so be it. A few more men and we can then look to scavenge another truck.’
‘You’ve been in the sun too long, mate. Or maybe I have. Are we seriously agreeing on something?’
The shout, take cover, was the first noise they heard, followed by the rattle of the roof-mounted GAU19 Gatling gun, with Warren letting rip to the right of their position. Smithy and Gibbs dropped to their knees and scanned left to see two vans hone in on their position. A feral dog skittered from the side of the street into the dead brush to the left. The approaching vehicles split up at the intersection. The one that went left disappeared from view, the second, a silver and red painter van, came straight at them.
Gibbs stood up and fired over the bonnet of the van in the direction that Warren was covering.
‘On me,’ Smithy yelled and let fire a burst at the other van, targeting the man who was sitting on the side window frame. The bullets ricocheted off the windscreen from his position. Focusing his fire on the protruding gang member, Smithy fired in single shots, eventually watching the man fall backwards, his head hitting the road first before he was pulled under the van.
Gibbs knelt next to him, focusing on the radiator and wheels.
‘They are getting closer,’ Warren said before releasing a barrage of 12.7mm rounds.
The GAU19 was a van and truck killer, and it wasn’t long before he swung the machine gun onto the same van that Smithy and Gibbs were focussed on. It had turned to the left to present its right side, making it easier for the occupants to fire as they drove. This gave Warren a massive target to aim at, and he sent two long bursts into the side of it, the metal singing as the bullets slammed through. The driver slumped forward, and the van crashed into the side of the Walmart building.
Smithy followed Gibbs, their SA80s trained on the van. Looking back, Smithy could see the other vehicle had also stopped, smoke rising from its radiators. Two men stumbled out and staggered about, shaking their heads from shock. They started to shake and jerk as Stuart and Fingers, who were still kneeling in front of the armour-plated truck, fired at the men. Blondie and Grace were nowhere to be seen.
‘Smithy, keep covering the van. I’m going to check on the others.’
‘Will do,’ Smithy said. ‘Warren? You alright up there, fella?’
Warren swivelled in his chair, leaning back to see them. ‘I’ve been hit again, lads. There’s a lot of blood.’
‘For fucksakes, mate. Can you stop getting shot,’ Gibbs said, running over to the main side door. ‘Everyone, get to the vehicles and scavenge what you can. You know the drill.’
Smithy walked to the van, joined by Fingers. When he swivelled back he could see the pain etched on Warren’s face. It was not the face of a man who would last too long.
Chapter 24
Greenback, Tennessee, USA – 2043
A weight lifted from his shoulders at the sight of his son still standing and fighting. The blond-haired teenager was on one knee, jolting back from the recoil of the modified M4 with its M320 grenade launcher. The shooting had died down with Warren managing to stop both vehicles.
Gibbs ran to the main side door of the truck and jumped inside. Blondie spun around and aimed a Glock at him, blinking as he lowered the weapon. Gibbs looked down to see the girl, Grace, had curled up under the bank of seats that lined the sides of the truck interior.
‘Everything okay with you two?’ Gibbs said. Blondie nodded. ‘Do you have any first aid experience?’
‘I’ve patched up a few men on the perimeter wall. We were all taught the basic field dressing stuff by one of your men,’ Blondie said.
‘Good man. Now take that medical kit from the first aid box, and get to the back and help Warren. Pressure the wound to slow the bleeding and give him a single dose of morphine. You good to handle that?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Blondie said and scurried to the back of the truck.
Gibbs walked to the side and lifted the lid of one of the box-bench seats. Reaching inside, he pulled out a Barret M82 rifle and then a second. Checking the magazines, there were rounds in both of them. He ran outside and turned left. Smithy had already started looking around the vehicle to strip it of anything they could use.
‘Smithy,’ Gibbs shouted and lobbed one of the sniper rifles towards him. He caught it with one hand.
‘What’s happening?’
‘When I got to Stuart’s position, I saw a few gang members running across the field. They must have scarpered after the van crashed and slipped out the opposite door.’
Smithy ran around to his side, and they both jogged across the pothole-strewn tarred road. Jumping through a gap in the overgrown hedge, they landed on a flat piece of ground. A distant crack of a pistol made them go to ground.
‘Little shits,’ Smithy said.
‘I can see four of them running. One looks wounded,’ Gibbs said. The fugitives were crossing the open expanse and making for a large clump of trees, their struggling forms silhouetted by the clear blue sky.
‘I would hope so. Warren made that van look like a colander.’
‘I’ll take the two on the left,’ Gibbs said, pulling on the long bolt to chamber the first 50 BMG cartridge. The recoil would chamber the rest.
‘Range?’
‘Five hundred meters, boss. Zero crosswinds.’
‘I can feel that,’ Gibbs said and flipped the scope covers off. A quick dial change and he rested down to pick off the first man. The men had moved a little to the left, his target’s outline was shadowed by the clump of trees behind him. Not clean shooting anymore.
‘Fewest shots used is the winner,’ Smithy said.
‘Loser cooks dinner.’
A chuckle came from Smithy, then silence. The first roar erupted. Then silence.
Gibbs placed the crosshairs to the left of the hobbling man’s spine. He squeezed the trigger, and the roar went off as the gun recoiled. Looking through the scope, he saw the man arch backwards and collapse.
‘Man down,’ he called, knowing that Smithy hadn’t called it after the last shot. Gibbs lined up the second man, who was darting to his left and right. He tracked his movements, waiting. A few prairie chickens were spooked into flight, flapping furiously as they climbed to the left. Smithy’s second shot went off.
‘Man down.’
Gibbs focused on his target and waited, breathing slowly.
Smithy fired a second. ‘Man down, Gibbs. Two from three.’
The target was still jinxing left and right. Gibbs waited then pulled the trigger. The man went down with a small puff of blood, then got up an
d started hobbling.
Smithy laughed. ‘Getting rusty, boss. It looks like we both cook dinner.’
Gibbs watched the man slow then turn to look at him. He collapsed sideways into the long grass. ‘Man down. Two from two. Enjoy the cooking, mate.’
‘Bastard,’ Smithy said, pushing himself off his chest, red dust covering his body armour. ‘But hey, four dead gang members, right.’
‘And one free dinner won for the rest of us.’
‘Shut up,’ Smithy said, a grin appearing on his face.
They got back to the truck and Gibbs climbed inside, moving forward to the driver’s seat. He reached for a small metal water bottle and took a swig of moonshine, grimacing as it lit a path of fire down his throat and into his stomach. Smithy walked up behind him and stuck his hand out.
‘What?’ Gibbs said. ‘You don’t get to drink if you can’t shoot straight.’
‘Shut up and pass the hooch.’
Gibbs smiled. It was good to have sorted their shit out.
‘That satphone is ringing again. Can you hear it or has old age deafness finally set in?’ Smithy said.
Gibbs climbed into the passenger seat and answered it. ‘Hello there, mate. It certainly has been a while.’
‘We’re surviving. Had a few run-ins with a crew called the 38 Street Roadsters, managed by a real bastard called Rebus Maze.’
Gibbs looked out the window. ‘Yes, we’ve lost a few. That young girl, Maddy, was murdered by that lunatic. She was like family.’
‘Thanks for the kind sentiments,’ Gibbs said. ‘So, why the call?’ He listened for a while and then hung up, looking at the blackened screen.
‘Bugger.’
‘What did our mysterious benefactor say?’
‘The NAG unit was in the enclave, and they were sent specifically to get me.’
‘Not Rebus?’
‘No. It seems I’m back on the top of the agenda for the NAG, no doubt at the request of their backers in Europe.’
‘That sucks. How the hell are we ever to get away from them?’ Smithy said. ‘We need to get off their radar somehow. Until that happens, they’ll keep on coming.’ Gibbs stared back at him. ‘I know that look. You have a daft idea that’ll get us all killed.’
‘Our informer said the NAG is sending three companies of men to help the Bounty Hunter, and a senior-level official to bring me in.’
‘Who?’
‘No bloody idea. He’s been trying to reach our contact to establish our whereabouts or satphone details.’
‘Would the informer sell us out if pressured?’
‘We found and rescued his daughter. He’d never sell us out.’
‘Ah. At least I know who he is now.’
Gibbs nodded. ‘I know you’ve never met him, but he’s had our back for the past ten years.’
• • •
Following the winding hillside road had its problems. The dust plume of the two vehicles could be seen from further away, and the blind corners meant you’d be on top of the enemy without much notice. Gibbs knew they to take a few risks to get as close to Rebus’s operation as possible.
‘How’s Warren doing?’ Gibbs asked, checking his side mirrors for their van. ‘Stuart?’
‘Sorry, Gibbs. I’ll just check.’
‘Focus on keeping him alive and comfortable,’ Gibbs said. ‘Grace doesn’t need your undivided attention right now.’ He looked in the back to see Stuart shaking his head, his fingers on Warren’s neck.
‘Still has a pulse, he’s just out of it, that’s all. That morphine must be working.’
‘Check his dressing. There should be a lot of blood, so change it because we don’t want him getting an infection.’
‘It looks okay. Guess the bleeding has slowed down.’
‘Good. Now cover him up and get upfront here with me. Grace needs to get some sleep too.’
Stuart was blushing as he squeezed between driver and passenger seats. ‘You could also do with some sleep. Do you want me to wake Smithy so he can drive?’
‘No, let him sleep,’ Gibbs said. ‘It’ll be sundown in about two hours, so you and I need to find a place to park the vehicles for the night. Everyone could do with a good night’s sleep.’
‘What about Rebus? Do you think he’s getting further away? I don’t want us to lose him.’
Gibbs looked at his son, dressed in a uniform similar to so many who’d fought and died for him. Hopefully, they would be clear of this madness pretty soon. ‘We’re hitting his men whenever we get a chance. I have a feeling he’s holed up somewhere, waiting for that bounty hunter to leave.’
‘We can’t fight that man and his NAG convoy too, can we?’
‘We could take them on, but we’d probably lose. We knew that the NAG would always be looking for us,’ Gibbs said steering around a bend in the road. ‘Our immediate job is to find Rebus and crush him if we can.’
‘I thought we were not going to seek revenge?’
Gibbs smiled. ‘Son, you’re more of a man than I was at your age. Smithy told me that you need to be told the truth, and I’m sorry that I’ve shielded you from things for so long. Our job now is to kill as many of Rebus’s gang members as we can. This will weaken him and strip him of his resources.’
‘And make him weak to our attacks.’
‘That’s correct. But it’ll also make him weak against other gangs that he’s competing with. That boyfriend told me quite a few things about old Rebus in the end.’
‘Is it true you tortured him?’ Stuart asked.
Gibbs swallowed hard. ‘I made him see that it was futile to keep resisting.’
‘Look,’ Stuart shouted, pointing out of Gibbs’s right window.
Gibbs felt his heart jump as he snapped his head to the right. ‘What?’
‘A few warehouses.’
‘Jesus, boy. I thought we were about to get into it with someone,’ Gibbs said and slowed the truck, looking off into the distance. ‘Seems like a good out-of-the-way spot.’
‘Gibbs,’ Smithy shouted from the back of the truck. ‘We have company. Five hundred meters behind us. Looks like two vans.’
‘Thought you were sleeping.’
‘Nah. I thought I’d better keep a lookout while you two chat about the meaning of life.’
‘We’ll drive to those warehouses and set up an ambush inside. There only seems to be one viable entrance to each of them.’
Across the open fields was an abandoned industrial park. Ten to fifteen flat-roofed warehouses stood in long rows like children’s building blocks, surrounded by a brick perimeter wall topped with barbed wire. The gaping entrance where a gate once stood was the only viable way in.
‘If it’s not already filled with our enemies waiting to kick our arses.’
‘There is no time to scout around. We’ll have to risk it,’ Gibbs said.
‘Well hurry the hell up. They’re coming in at speed.’
‘Even better. They won’t have time to pull out before it’s too late. Get on the radio to Fingers,’ Gibbs said as he turned off the old tar road and drove down a potholed, tarmac drive then between two brick gate posts. They passed the empty guard house, which was doorless and crossed the weed-ridden concrete area that was in front of the first few warehouses. A group of turkey vultures took to the air as they approached.
Gibbs pointed to the first warehouse. ‘I want them positioned on the left, just as we enter. I’ll take the right-hand side a little further along. You wait at the end of the warehouse with the truck. Use the GAU19.’
‘Gladly, boss,’ Smithy said.
‘And me?’ Stuart asked.
‘You’re right next to me. Get your M4.’
• • •
The 38s vans slid in sideways, screeching tyres barely audible above the rattling sound of the GAU19. Dust rose from the floor of the abandoned warehouse, clouding everything. The GAU19, with Smithy behind it, let off a few rounds into the left van before the driver steered it to the right and sto
pped. The van doors were flung open, and pistols and machine guns were raised over the open side door frames, firing rapidly at the GAU19 ‘s position and at the van that shielded Gibbs’s position. Two gang members jumped out of the other 38s van with pistols raised. They fired rapidly as they ran towards Gibbs. Bullets flicked off the shielding van as Gibbs and Stuart ducked down for a second time before rising in unison to fire more rounds at the charging men. The 38s were screaming obscenities as the bullets hit, falling to their knees then forward onto their faces. Gibbs swung his SA80 to the right to cover the others, but Fingers was already walking towards the other stopped van. A young teen jumped out from behind the van, his long hair flying about his head. Fingers fired, and the boy went backwards clutching his chest. Another 38, with a black leather jacket, jumped out of the driver’s seat but was dropped where he crouched on the ground. Stuart’s M4 rattled off a short burst as a shirtless gangster jumped out of the back of the nearest door. The man took a step then shook as the bullets hit his chest sending him over backwards into the dust.
‘Good shooting,’ Gibbs said. ‘Stay focused on the door. These buggers are known to be cowards and like to hide in the vans.’
More shots went off from the other side, echoing around the abandoned space.
‘Let’s clear the vans and take what we need,’ Gibbs said, walking forward, looking down the sights of the SA80. He swung it to the open back door of the nearest van. A rolled mattress was on the floor in the back, and shelves on the left wall had been bolted to the interior, filled with clothing, cooking equipment and ammunition cases.
‘I’ll check the other back door,’ Stuart said, walking away from his dad.
Gibbs edged to the left to peer into the cab of the van. It was empty.
‘All clear from here,’ Smithy called from the roof of the truck. He had jumped up through the roof turret and had his SA80 out in front of him.
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