"Yes," she said, and then she hesitated, glancing back again. "So many lives."
"They made a choice," he told her. "They can live with it."
"Or die with it?"
"It's all the same."
But as the soldier spoke those words, he knew that they were wrong. There was a world of difference between the living and the dead, the builders and the savages who sought to prey upon mankind. One tended fire and tamed it as a friend; the other used it as a weapon, and in time, would be consumed by cleansing flame.
The soldier closed his eyes as Sarah gave their mount a gentle nudge and started on the journey south. He didn't fear the darkness that surrounded them. It held no terrors that could match the restless phantoms in his heart.
They were alive, and for the moment, that was victory enough. There were occasions when a warrior could expect no more, and this was one such time. He left the butcher's work to Jack Grimaldi and the others, thinking of Hafez, Mari, all the men whom he had killed or helped to kill this day.
More ghosts. As if he did not have enough already.
Bolan made his mind a perfect blank and concentrated on the swaying rhythm of the horse. He would not sleep for fear of falling, but he could detach himself from his surroundings, cautiously replenish his reserves of energy.
With any luck at all, he would not dream.
Epilogue
Daylight overtook them in the mountains, high above the desert floor. Mack Bolan had been walking for the past two hours, leading Sarah's horse by starlight on a narrow trail that hugged the mountain crest. The fires of Alamut were far behind them, and the coastline was a hazy smudge on the horizon to the west.
"Where will we rest?"
"Just up ahead," he told her. "I see trees and boulders. We should be all right, with cover."
He didn't believe that anyone would pursue them, but it stood to reason that the army would investigate the target of the air strike, and he didn't wish to be discovered accidentally. A lone American would have been bad enough, but an American with an Israeli… well, Damascus might have thrown the key away on that one, and the Executioner did not intend to spend his future in the kind of squalid cubbyhole that passed for Middle Eastern prison cells.
"How will you find your way back home?" she asked, intruding on his thoughts.
He smiled and shook his head. "I was supposed to have a guide."
"This land is dangerous for strangers."
"So I've noticed."
"I could help you," Sarah offered. "You could stay with me, until we reach the border."
"Maybe."
"I will need some different clothes."
"I like the ones you've got."
"Perhaps, but they are not for traveling."
"We won't be traveling this afternoon."
"We must conserve our energy."
"Of course."
They traveled on in silence for a time, as rosy dawn touched the sky. In the middle distance, he could pick out details of the trees and boulders now. It seemed a perfect place to pass the day, secure from prying eyes.
"If you would come with me to Tel Aviv, my sponsors would be pleased to meet you, I am sure."
"We'll talk about it later."
"Yes. We still have time."
Hafez had been supposed to hand him off to contacts in the Company, but all of that could be forgotten now. The long trek south to Israel would be time consuming, fraught with peril, but he thought that there might be rewards along the way.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"We'll do it your way… to the border, anyhow."
It was Sarah's turn to smile. "But first, we must conserve our energy. I hope that we are almost to the trees."
"Almost," he promised her, and made a point of picking up his pace. They had a long, hot day ahead of them, and he was looking forward to a respite from the road. "How long until we reach the border?"
"Traveling by night, perhaps three days. Or four."
"I'd vote for four," the soldier said, and led her horse into the shelter of the trees.
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