Time Skip

by Craig L. Seymour

  Lovelle hurried down to the new locale and reloaded once again. No one was as completely exposed as he had hoped, but, he was able to put a bullet in the shoulder of one more of the men. This signaled to the others that he had moved, but, they didn’t seem able to pinpoint his direction from the single unexpected shot. Only the hit man would have any idea, and he wasn’t talking, at least for the moment. Another of the men actually exposed himself even more as he searched for any sign of Lovelle. Lovelle was able to fire a round into that man’s chest and put him out of commission.

  Then, just as Lovelle was thinking that they were sure to have determined the direction of his fire, a man stepped out of a shop behind him and yelled to the men in Arabic, “He is there.” Lovelle wheeled around to see the man pointing at him. No sooner had the man done so, than he realized his own predicament and hustled back inside for cover. Of course, he was in no direct danger from Lovelle unless he decided to intervene. Lovelle figured the man would have done so without delay if it had been his intention. And since the cat was already out of the bag on his location, Lovelle saw no purpose in targeting the man. Besides, he could see that from the man’s perspective, he would certainly seem to be the bad guy there.

  With only one uninjured man left in the front lot, and virtually no chance that he would reveal himself now, Lovelle was considering a full assault. Depending upon the capacities of the man with the shoulder wound, whom Lovelle couldn’t see, he might now have a fair shot at getting to the house. This train of thought was interrupted when the front door burst open. Three men came out with Bin Laden. Two of the men were laying down a haphazard cover fire in Lovelle’s general direction while shielding the third man as he assisted their clearly injured leader. They moved quickly toward one of the vehicles, but, Lovelle managed to get off a shot before they reached cover. He couldn’t be sure if he had hit anyone though. He hesitated. He had two shots left in the BAR and he didn’t want to waste them. He could possibly take out the driver, but, he would just simply be replaced by a more careful one. Lovelle could take out tires, but, there were two more vehicles available. He might be able to pick them off during the transfer, but, he would have only one shot left, and then he would have to rush to maneuver around his shoulder and aim the far less accurate AK-47. Lovelle quickly decided his best chance would come from letting them move out onto the road, and then taking the tire out. This would force them to either change vehicles in a much more exposed way, or to try to continue in a hobbled vehicle.

  Lovelle let the four men and the remaining outside gunman enter the vehicle unmolested. They skidded out onto the road, and he calmly shot out their left rear tire as they drove away from him. He had a single shot left and he held his fire in case his adversaries decided to abandon the vehicle and Bin Laden were about to be exposed. Instead, the SUV continued limping down the road. He waited a moment too long to see if they would stop, decided to shoot out another tire, but missed. Now he had to pursue. He wouldn’t get another opportunity like this. Bin Laden would never again be so vulnerable, and it was becoming increasingly less likely that Lovelle would escape Sudan himself, even if he cut and ran right then.

  His adversaries were still able to move pretty quickly on three wheels, so Lovelle had to get his car. To do that quickly he would have to expose himself to anyone left behind at the house. He ditched the BAR rifle and clicked off the safety on the AK-47 assault rifle. He took a long breath, steeled his nerves, and stood. He leveled the AK and fired off a burst of rounds to discourage anyone who might yet be able to shoot at him. To his relief, no shots rang out as he dashed for his car.

  Lovelle reached the car a few moments later and retrieved the keys from under the passenger floor mat, where he had placed them in anticipation of trouble. Of course, at the time, he was anticipating that he might be on the receiving end of the pursuit. The car turned over and he peeled out in the hope that his prey had not yet eluded him. As he pulled out onto the street his heart dropped. They were no longer hobbling down that street. He charged out after them and spotted them at the next intersection. They were only a short distance away.

  He would be upon them in no time, and now he had to decide what to do when he caught them. Once again, he was dealing with internal conflict. He could not help considering how he might get out of this alive. He knew full well that his best chance of achieving his mission goal would be to kamikaze them. In this circumstance, his most deadly weapon was his automobile. At the speed they were traveling he could slam them very hard. But, he couldn’t help thinking that he might devise another plan with similar likelihood of success and without the extreme likelihood of his own injury, and the ruin of any chance of escape. He quickly decided that he might hit them hard enough to stop them without rendering his own car incapacitated. Once he had them stopped he could wheel around and open fire with the AK. If the SUV wasn’t armored, then he stood a good chance of killing the occupants and getting away.

  In a moment he would be upon them and have no more time to consider his options. In fact, if he wanted to kill them in the crash he needed to punch the gas now. He would need every bit of speed differential that he could attain in the short distance between them. Once the crash had occurred, if he were hurt himself, he would have little chance of verifying his success, so he had to make the crash un-survivable, if such a thing were possible. Lovelle slammed on the brakes, knowing that they were not about to elude him now. He had made his decision and wanted to give himself a little more space to accelerate, as well as a chance to fasten his safety belt.

  With his belt secure, he slammed his foot down on the gas pedal. The tires squealed and the rear end got a little loose. He kept control and braced himself. Then the unforeseen happened. A pedestrian stepped out into the street. Lovelle switched his foot to the brake, veered, and laid on the horn in a natural reaction. He was able to ease around the pedestrian, but, he was shaken up. He hesitated in accelerating again, and he could see that his horn blast had alerted Bin Laden’s men to his presence. They had been moving along in a controlled manner, and now they were jerking around a corner, obviously aware of the pursuit. Lovelle had lost the element of surprise, not that it was integral to his plan. He got his head back together and charged forward.

  He rounded the corner and was surprised to find that the SUV was closer than he had expected. Almost before he had a chance wonder why, he had the answer. Gunmen on either side of the road opened fire. Unfortunately for them, they had jumped out of their own vehicle so close to the corner that he was past them before they had a chance to lay down any effective fire. Almost as soon as they started shooting they found themselves spinning around. They were off balance and ineffectual. By the time they were able to stop moving and take aim, they were shooting at his rear, and he was ducking down and charging ahead. They peppered the car with bullets, and shattered the rear glass, but, were so concentrated on hitting the driver that they failed to incapacitate the car in any way.

  Lovelle stopped short of hitting the SUV however choosing to tail it instead. The circumstances had changed, and so had his plans. With only two guards left to protect Bin Laden he felt confident that he could go to plan B. But for the moment he wanted to get as much space between himself and the gunmen on foot. Preferably, the SUV would make another turn and get both vehicles completely out of the foot soldier’s line of sight. Lovelle didn’t need them taking pot shots at his rear while he tried to work, or pursuing on foot and showing up in time to save the day.

  Right on cue, the SUV made another evasive turn. They didn’t seem to realize how impossible it would be for them to evade him now. They were playing right into his hands. Once he was around the corner himself he eased off and gave them just a little room. He didn’t wait any longer than necessary. In just the last few minutes he had seen how impossible it was to account for variables and surprises. But, he also didn’t want the trailing henchman to feel any need to follow on foot. Waiting until he was completely out of their line of sight before
slowing would keep them from seeing what he was up to, just in case they were bright enough to figure it out.

  This time he wouldn’t need to give the SUV much room. Lovelle was hoping to preserve the drivability of his own car after the crash. So before they could get to another intersection and possibly throw him another curve, he punched the gas. As he approached they tried again to get away, but stupidly, the driver veered, exposing his side door. Lovelle was able to smack into the driver’s side door and send the man flying across the seat into the passenger side. The guard in the back was also knocked off balance and dropped his own gun. Lovelle was able to unbuckle and exit his car without receiving fire. He dragged his AK out and pointed it into the back seat. The guard was still lying against the opposite door, apparently unconscious, and Bin Laden was trying to reach the man’s weapon. Lovelle started firing as quickly as he could pull the trigger on the semi-automatic civilian version AK. He placed five good rounds into Bin Laden before turning his attention to the driver. He was a moment too late, as the driver had recovered his own rifle and put a bullet into Lovelle’s left shoulder. This knocked him off balance, and the round he was about to put into the man’s chest instead entered right above his left eye. Lovelle could hardly believe the fortune of it. It could so easily have been a clean miss, and Lovelle would be the one who was dead. He recovered quickly and put two rounds into the unconscious guard and two more into Bin Laden for good measure.

  He didn’t wait around for any of the aftermath. The Toyota was drivable. In fact, it wasn’t even the worst looking car he had seen on the road in Khartoum. He used the butt of the AK to completely knock the shattered rear window out and onto the street. With that gone, only the bullet holes would stand out as unusual, and a good number of them were now obscured by the damage from the crash. He actually felt pretty good about his chances.

  His shoulder hurt like someone had shoved a hot poker into it. But, the bullet had lodged just right to minimize the bleeding. He quickly weighed the risks and decided that the danger posed by his injury was much smaller than that of remaining in Khartoum any longer. He backed away from the accident, glanced briefly to see that the other gunmen hadn’t come around the corner, and then drove off casually. Since his first day in town he had topped off the tank daily and kept a bag of essentials in the back seat so that he could high tail it out of town at any time. He had also been sure to leave nothing of identifiable value behind in his room. If he could manage it, Lovelle was going to drive right out of the country without stopping. Barring any complications, he would be in Teseney, Eritrea before nightfall, and if he was feeling capable, he would be in his villa in Asmara before the end of the day.

  Had Lovelle been in the U.S., he couldn’t have gone two blocks without the police catching his tail. But, at this hour, in this place, he was able to quietly slink away. No All Points Bulletin was issued. No sirens blared. Whatever investigation occurred, it must have taken place with no notice of him. The gunmen on foot probably thought it best to simply slink away rather than to deal with the police. If anyone else had seen the assault, they had probably decided that discretion was the better part of valor and avoided the whole mess. Whatever the reason, no one seemed to come looking. Lovelle simply rolled out of town, across the desert, and over the border back to Eritrea.

  Along the way he considered tending to his burning shoulder. He had a medical kit in the back seat. But, he thought better of it. It seemed to him, since the bleeding was relatively minor, the odds were that he would only make it worse. He might start some bleeding that required immediate attention where none was to be had. In Asmara he had a couple of black market contacts, and figured he could get some medical attention without any other sort of unwanted notice.

  He crossed the border in Teseney without incident. There, he was able to pull on his leather jacket and cover his wound. He refueled and purchased something to eat. He felt surprisingly good, despite the fact that he was no longer running on the adrenaline of the morning, so he went on to Asmara.

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  Lovelle was right about his contacts. Even before going to the villa, Lovelle dropped in on the man who had sold him his guns. The man was a little taken aback by the unannounced visit, but, Lovelle smoothed things over quickly with a handful of cash. The arms dealer was more than happy to put him in touch with a doctor. He did so in exchange for the return of the guns, gratis. This was actually no sacrifice, since Lovelle would have to ditch the guns before returning to Kuwait anyhow, having no intention of ever returning to Eritrea.

  The doctor was an equally shady character. He worked in a filthy room in the back of his house. He did, however, have an autoclave for sterilizing his equipment, a nominally clean sink at which he scrubbed up, and a cabinet full of sterile bandages and the like. As promised by the arms dealer, the doctor asked no questions, and in short order Lovelle was patched up and beginning his recovery.

  Lovelle arrived at his villa in the middle of the night. He removed a warm bottle of water from the little pantry and sat down at the dining table. He was physically exhausted, but, his mind was reeling. As he sat there, he finally got his chance to think about what he had done. He had done ‘it’. He had killed Bin Laden, and he had lived. Not only had he lived, but, he might actually be able to step right back into his life as if nothing had occurred. He imagined checking his pockets for horseshoes and four leaf clovers, or looking over his shoulder for a guardian angel. He had just accomplished something he had no reason to think he was capable of. It had been a suicide mission from the start. He had never had any reason to expect that one man, in retrospect, one rather poorly trained man, could take Bin Laden down without a lick of support. But fortune had smiled on him all that morning. It took a load of luck just to kill Bin Laden, let alone to walk away from it. Finding Zawahiri there as well was an incredible bonus. Once Lovelle was able to reflect on it, he could see what a phenomenal piece of luck it was to have located Bin Laden at all. He had made some very fortuitous guesses based on a scant bit of information. Things had actually fallen his way at every crucial turn, even if he hadn’t recognized it at the time.

  After that moment of elation contemplating his accomplishment, Lovelle remembered what else he had done that week. In addition to Bin Laden and Zawahiri, he had killed at least four men and probably more. He had done so without hesitation. He had been virtually unaffected by it, and he wondered what that said about the kind of man he had become. He doubted that he could have done that in either of his other two lives, and he wasn't thinking of the skills he had acquired in this third life. What he was coming to realize was that his time travels had cheapened life for him. His perception of reality was permanently skewed.

  Even when he had time to reflect, Lovelle had no qualms about the killings. Those men had thrown their lot in with pure evil. But, they were men nonetheless. They might have had families to care for. They may have been confused about right and wrong through no real fault of their own, raised knowing nothing but radical Islam. And though this was no excuse for what they were doing, that realization should have humanized them for Lovelle. He believed that he should have felt remorse, not for the outcome, but, for the fact that such a deed was necessary at all. But, he felt nothing for them. He was oblivious to them and their families. His heart felt cold.

  He thought that maybe he was simply caught up in the revelry of his success. Or that the adrenaline of the day was still with him. He hoped that he would feel something more when things settled down. That was what he was thinking as he drifted off to sleep.

  The following morning he didn’t have time to reflect on things for very long. He had a boat to catch. Not only was this the last ferry that would get him back to base in time for the end of his leave, but, there was no advantage in hanging around in Africa in the immediate aftermath of the assassination of the leaders of Al Qaeda.

  The people he had been working with in Asmara might well identify him as a suspect in the Bin Laden killing onc
e the news reached them. He had no idea how these men would feel about Bin Laden. As readily as they had dealt with him in ignorance of his aims, choosing money over ideals, they might now turn on him if given sufficient reason. Even whores have lines they won’t cross, and at least one of these men might refuse to knowingly cross the line to aiding and abetting in the assassination of Islamist militants. If they put two and two together, they might turn him over out of principle. They might turn him over out of fear of retribution for their own part in the affair. Hell, they were more likely to turn him over for a reward. But, Lovelle’s luck had not run out yet. He soon found himself in Saudi Arabia, on his way back to the base.

  *****

  Over the next few weeks it was difficult, but possible, to follow the news as the Sudan authorities tried to identify the “murderer”. They were getting nowhere at first, not even being certain that the two men slain a few nights earlier were the victims of the same killer. But finally, one of his Eritrea contacts pointed the finger at him. Only, Lovelle had never used his own identity with anyone inside that country, and there were no photos or video to show. As far as anyone in either country was concerned, he was a Canadian national, with three different aliases.

  The authorities were able to piece together quite a bit of the story. They found his abandoned villa. They knew where he had bought his car, and even where he was treated for a gunshot wound. But, Lovelle had been efficient enough in erasing any trace of his identity, to stymie the technology available in that part of the world. Had he killed some legitimate African leader, INTERPOL might have become involved. But in this case, the people at that organization were almost certainly celebrating his success, with no inclination to assist in finding their unknown benefactor.