Stephen Coonts - Jake Grafton 6 - Intruders

by Intruders (lit)

  The first man was already inside. The second man paused in the doorway. Flap was inside. Jake stopped breathing and blinked rapidly, trying to see in the almost nonexistent light.

  If the man shouted or fired his weapon.

  Then he turned for the door and merged with another shadow coming out. Now he disappeared within.

  In less than a minute Flap Le Beau came across the open ground toward Jake's position.

  He was walking calmly, with a rifle in each hand.

  When he approached Jake's position he said softly, "Come on. Let's look at the boat." T

  Jake wormed his way straight ahead out of the brush, then struggled to his feet. Flap was already at the boat dock.

  Jake followed along, trying to look as nonchalant as the two guards had.

  Flap got into the cabin cruiser. "The battery works," he reported.

  "Any fuel?" "There's a can here. Let me see." A half minute passed.

  "Well, it's gasoline. A couple of gallons. I'm going to pour it into the tank." This cabin cruiser-what if it were sabotaged?

  Maybe they should take one of the little boats. Jake looked in them for oars. Each of them had a set.

  They had outboard engines too, but the presence of oars seemed to indicate that the owners of the boats weren't brimming with confidence over the reliability of those engines. Or maybe they were just careful.

  It was going to be a big gamble.

  Jake turned his back on the cabin cruiser and stood looking at the village. A faint glow from three or four lights showed through the foliage.

  Flap joined him on the dock. "Decision time, shipmate.

  We can untie this scow and get out of here right now with a chance and maybe a future. They won't know this tub's gone until morning." "You're senior," Jake told him. "You make the decision and you live with it." I'm giving you a choice." "This is ridiculous." They couldn't stand here in plain sight arguing like two New York bankers waiting for a taxLike "Iead the way, Le Beau.

  I'll be right behind you." Flap took one of the AK'S and lowered it into the water, then released it. With the other rifle in his left hand, he turned and walked off the dock.

  Jake followed him.

  They circled the village through the jungle. The weapons cache was on the side away from the sea, a hundred yards from the long pier. At least two guards were on duty.

  Flap picked a vantage point and watched for a while with Jake beside him. The guards walked the perimeter alertly.

  After the second one passed, Flap told Jake, "They're too alert. They know something's up." "Maybe they missed that guy you killed this afternoon." "Maybe." "What if there's someone inside the pile?" "There is. Believe it." "Let's go around to the other side and get a look before we 90 in." Flap led the way with Jake behind him. Jake concentrated on following Flap, afraid that he might lose him, and let Flap worry about avoiding the opposition.

  Flap halted on a little hill halfway between the ship and the cache. The village was directly opposite them. To get to the boat landing, however, they would have to either pass the village or retrace the route they had just traveled, circling both the weapons cache and the village.

  "Has to be here," Flap said. "It's shitty, I know. But we'll need a side shot at the ship.

  From the boat landing we're looking at her stem." After a bit he asked, "Think you can get here on your own if you have to?" "Yeah. Unless they turn off that streetlight across the way-was "They won't. Let's go." They went back toward the cache and settled in fifty feet away, hidden in waist-high foliage. Flap waited until a guard went by and turned the corner, then he flitted across the gap like a shadow and disappeared into an aisle between stacks of boxes. He left his rifle with Jake.

  One minute passed, then another.

  The second guard came around the corner and walked by.

  Flap had to find the man inside amid the aisles, if there was one, kill him, then come back to dispose of the guards outside. It was a tall order, yet these men had to be down before Jake and Flap could rip into the boxes, which could not be done noiselessly.

  Several more minutes ticked by. Jake fitigered his Hooded, useless watch. Perhaps he should have thrown it away.

  Okay, Flap. Where are you, shipmate?

  Come on! Come on, Flap! Oh, Jesus, don't let anything happen to Le Beau.

  Little late to think about that4 isn't it, Jake?

  You two could be on a boat going down the river right this very moment if you hadn't insisted on going through with this.

  Well, something had gone wrong. Flap was in trouble.

  Jake was torn by indecision. If he went inside looking he could blow this whole deal. Yet if Le Beau were injured he might die without assistance.

  Here comes one of the guards. Walking and looking, his rifle held carelessly in the crook of his arm.

  As the guard went by the aisle where Flap had disappeared, he hesitated. Jake stared at him across the sights of the AK. Now the guard took a step back and peered into the gloom as Jake's finger tightened on the trigger. If he points his weapon he's dead.

  Hands reached for the guard and jerked him forward off his feet, into the aisle.

  What were you worried about, Jake? Flap's the besbled the absolute best, a fucking super-Marine.

  More time passed.

  Waiting was the hard part. If you didn't know what was happening.

  Jake lifted his head and took a long, careful scan of the area. No one moving.

  The other guard came around the corner. He was more alert than the first one. He held his rifle in both hands, the muzzle up. He looked puzzled.

  Uh-oh, he didn't pass the other guy and now he's wondering where he is.

  He stopped and looked about carefully, then turned and went back the way he had come. When he reached the corner an arm shot forward. The guard jerked away.

  Even from this distance Jake could see the hilt of the knife protruding just below his chin. The rifle fell harmlessly as the man staggered, grabbing at his throat.

  Le Beau was right there, an arm coiling around the man's mouth to ensure he didn't scream. When he went down Jake hobbled forward.

  Le Beau was bent oveTholding his side.

  Blood splotched his flight suit everywhere. The Marine jerked the knife from the man's throat and wiped it on his leg, leaving yet another streak on his filthy flight suit, then slipped it into his sleeve sheath.

  "What happened?" "Guy inside had a knife. He got me good." "Let's saddle up and get the fuck outta here." "No. They bought us tickets and we're taking the ride.

  Quick, let's drag this guy out of sight. Grab hold." They each took an arm.

  "How bad is it?" Jake wanted to know.

  "I don't know. Burns like fire." "Can you keep going?" "We'll see." As they dropped the body in a dark aisle, Flap muttered, "Always knew I'd get it with a knife." He led the way down a gloomy aisle, almost feeling his way along. "The stuff we want is down here. Fuses and wire.

  Found it this afternoon." They attacked the side of a box with Flap's throwing knife. The nails ripping loose sounded loud as gunshots.

  "How do you know what's in each box?" "Seen crates like these before, in Cambodia. This is all Russian stuff. The crates got symbols on them for the comrades who can't read Russian. Like me," The side of the crate came loose. Flap dug into it. He came out with a handful of primers and wire.

  AfteTa little more digging they extracted a timer.

  "Now all we gotta do is find the plastique." Jake was horrified. "You don't know where it is?" "Couldn't find it this afternoon." "Maybe it's still on the ship." "Maybe. Get out your lighter and look." They found a crate with the lid already open.

  Grenades.

  Each man stuffed four or five into his chest pocket, then they went on.

  Time was dragging. The lighter got hot and flickered. It was about out of butane. Someone was going to come check on the guards any minute now.

  Jake was about to give in to despair when they found the pla
stique. There were at least five crates of it, piled one on top of the other.

  "Boost me up," Flap said.

  Lying on top of the crates, Flap pried at the lid of the topmost one with his knife. More groaning noises, as loud as fire sirens. Finally he said, "Okay, pass up the primers and stuff." con"How long do you want on the timer?" "Thirty minutes." The timeTwas mechanical. Jake began winding it up as fast as he could. When the spring would go no tighter, he used the lighter. The clock face would take up to a twelvehour delay. He set thirty minutes, then passed it up to Flap.

  Two minutes passed before Flap asked for help to get down. His side was wet with warm blood.

  "Those antitank rockets are down this way," he murmured. He took four steps and fell.

  Jake helped him up. "Let's try to get a bandage on that." "With what?" "Shirt off one of the corpses." "We don't have the time. Come only" They took four of the rockets, two for each man. Flap was visibly weaker now, but in the spluttering light of the butane fighter he took the time to explain how to arm, aim and shoot. The lighter died for the last time before they were through and couldn't be refit. Jake dropped it and slung his rifle over his back. Then he hoisted two of the rockets.

  He had to help Flap to his feet. Flap hoisted his two and let the rifle lay. He turned and led the way.

  Two steps out of the aisle Flap froze. A figure stood in front of him with a rifle leveled.

  "Ibe captain! "You two! I knew you weren't dead." He took a step closer. "You have caused me a great deal of trouble. Now I'm going to cause you a great deal of pain." Quick as thought he moved forward and smashed Flap in the head with the butt of his rifle. Flap collapsed.

  The captain drove a kick at Jake Grafton that caught him right where his rib was broken.

  He almost passed out from the pain.

  When he came to his senses he was lying almost across Flap. The captain was talking. "Been into the weapons, I see. What else have you done?" He kicked Jake again, but he took the blow mostly on his shoulder.

  Jake felt for Flap's left arm. He found it. The sleeve was loose. The knife came free in his hand.

  Another kick. "What have you done in there?

  Answer mell, As the foot flashed out again Jake grabbed it and pulled.

  Off balance, the captain fell. Jake scrambled to his knees and went for him but the man was too quick. He was coming off the ground so Jake slashed with the knife, a vicious, desperate backhand.

  The captain staggered back. Through all the kicks he had kept his rifle in his left hand. Now he dropped it and grabbed his stomach with both hands as a shriek of agony escaped him.

  His guts spilled out.

  The captain fell to the ground. Jake crawled toward him and stabbed, again and again and again.

  When the captain went limp Jake slashed at his throat for good measure, then rolled over moaning.

  He couldn't breathe. His side!

  The captain quivered. In a haze of pain, Jake stabbed the knife into his chest and left it there.

  Somehow he got to his feet.

  Le Beau seemed only partially conscious.

  Jake grabbed him by the back of the neck of his flight suit and heaved.

  The Marine slid about two feet.

  Jake needed both hands.

  The boat dock. He had to get Flap to the boat.

  No way but to drag him.

  In a haze of pain, struggling to breathe, he pulled. He paused occasionally to glance over his shoulder, because he was dragging him backward. Right by the lights of the village.

  Someone would see him and shoot him.

  He didn't care.

  How he made the journey he didn't know. Flap stirred several times but he didn't come to.

  Finally he had the Marine on the boards of the dock. In a supreme effort he got lurn over the side of the cabin cruiser onto its deck.

  He paused, breathing raggedly, not getting enough air but sucking hard anyway.

  Cast off. He had to cast off Somehow he remembered the other boats. He got out on the dock and fumbled with their ropes.

  The knife! Damn, he had left it sticking in the captain.

  He managed to untie all of the ropes except one, which was knotted too tight for his fingers. In his pain and anxiety he forgot all about the second knife that Flap carried.

  The ropes for the cabin cruiser came loose easily.

  Jake got aboard just as the current began to ease it away from the dock. Those other boats that were free from their moorings were already drifting.

  The grenades.

  He fumbled in his chest pocket for one. He pulled the pin and held it as the distance increased.

  T Now.

  He let the spoon fly, gritted his teeth and heaved. It hit on the dock, bounced once, then rolled into the moored boat.

  Jake sagged down just as it went off.

  The noise would bring the pirates. Maybe this would be a good time to see if the engine in this boat can be started.

  Fumbling with the switches by the helm, he found the one for the battery. A little light came on. There was a button just beside it. Here goes nothing!

  Please God The engine tamed over.

  He jabbed the button in and held it. Grind, grind, grind as he played with the throttle.

  A choke. Maybe there was a choke.

  Desperately he felt around the panel.

  He found it and pulled it out. The engine ground several more times, then caught. He inched the throttle forward from idle and spun the helm.

  He had the boat headed down river when the first bullets thudded in.

  One man shooting. No, two.

  He hunkered by the wheel and fed in full throttle.

  The boat accelerated nicely. He slewed it and craned his head to see. The banks of the river were even darker than the water.

  Stay in the middle.

  More bullets whapping in. The windshield in front of Jake shattered. Then something hit him in the shoulder, drove him forward into the panel. Somehow he kept his feet under him.

  The shooting stopped. He was rounding a bend. He got himself into the seat behind the wheel.

  How far to the sea? Would the pirates follow?

  He was worrying about that when he heard the explosion, a roar that grew and grew and grew, then died abruptly.

  His head swam and he worked desperately hard to breathe. Somehow he stayed conscious and kept the boat 'in the channel.

  Eventually the darkness of the him on the riversides merged with the night and the boat began to pitch and roll.

  The ocean. They were out of the river.

  There was a bungee cord dangling from the wheel.

  With the last of his strength Jake managed to book the free end to the bottom of the chair where he had been sitting.

  He roiled Flap over to check on him. He had a terrible knot on his forehead and the pupil of one eye was completely dilated. Concussion.

  "Hey, Flap. It's me, Jake." The Marine moved. His lips worked. Jake put his head down to hear. "Horowitz had a brother.

  Tell him... Tell him.

  Just what Jake was to tell him Flap didn't say.

  Jake was so tired. He lay down beside Flap.

  The boat ran out of fuel an hour later. It was rolling amid the swells of a sun-flecked blue sea when a pilot of an A-7 from Columbia spotted it. The crewman the helicopter lowered found Jake Grafton and Flap Le Beau lying side by side in the cockpit.

  JAKE WOKE UP IN A Room wrm cREAM-COLORED wAUS AM ceiling, in a bed with crisp white sheets. A sunbeam shown like a spotlight through a window. An IV was dripping into a vein in his left arm.

  Hospital His curiosity satisfied, he drifted off to steep again. When he next awoke a nurse was there taking his pulse. "Welcome back to the land of the living," she said, and lowered his wrist back to the bed. She annotated a clipboard, then gave him a grin.

  "Where am I?" "Honolula. Trippler Army Hospital." "Hawaii?" "Yes. You've been here almost a day now. You're just coming out of
the recovery room." "Le Beau? Marine captain. He here too?" "Yes. He's still in recovery." "How is heT9 "Still asleep. He's had an operation. You've had one too, but yours didn't take quite as long." "When he wakes up, I want to talk to him.

  Okay?" "We'll see. You take that up with the doctor when he ML L comes around. He should be here in about thirty minutes.