The man in the doorway raised his left arm and pulled his own sleeve down. A faded tattoo, also in Sanskrit, read 'the way of'. They placed their elbows and wrists together, creating the sentence 'The way of the Fist'. Only then did Hakim embrace the man as a true brother in arms.
"I am Arad Zarin. Hurry, come inside—the others are waiting."
"When do we strike?" asked Hakim as the door shut behind them, throwing the trio into darkness.
"Tonight," replied Zarin as he led the way deeper into the house. "We had planned to attack tomorrow, but the Russians have given us too good an opportunity to pass up."
"What?" asked Hakim.
Zarin turned and flashed a smile. "A prisoner exchange will be taking place—American soldiers are being held on the other side of town." He lit a kerosene camping lantern and held it up, examining his guests by the soft glow.
"We know the facility, it is loosely guarded—the Americans are not bothering to fight, believing they will be transferred home. We bribed an official to give us word of the exact time of this exchange."
"Sounds easy," Saldid grunted. "Where's the excitement?"
Zarin's smile widened. "Ah, but the Russians have no intention of delivering the Americans. They plan to transport them back to Siberia—as hostages."
"Why not let them? What the Russians do with American prisoners of war is no concern of ours," replied Hakim.
Zarin glanced at him in the lantern light. "True, but such a high density of Americans and Russians together does not readily present itself often. A coordinated attack at the right time would kill dozens of them! Hundreds even, on both sides."
Saldid smiled. "Do you have anything to eat? I'm hungry. I like to kill infidels on a full belly."
Zarin clapped Hakim on the shoulder. "I like your partner. He has spirit." He laughed and led Saldid down the hallway.
Hakim glared at their backs.
Chapter 19
Walk of Shame
ERIK TRUDGED ALONG, FOCUSED on keeping the small group moving forward. One step after another, his boots crunched on the gravel at the side of the road. He never went more than five or six steps without casting a wary glance over his shoulder south, toward Dunham. It'd been two hours since they left Dunham. He had no way of knowing how far they'd walked, going as slow as they were.
"I'm thirsty," complained Teddy.
"Me too," added Lindsay. "Erik, can we take a break soon?"
Brin shot a sympathetic glance at him and shrugged. She looked like she could use a break as well.
Erik sighed, but pressed forward. Step after step. He was pushing the kids about as fast as they could go—Teddy's legs were only so long.
Can't keep up this pace forever…
He spotted a large oak tree about a hundred yards up the road. He took one more furtive glance south. Still nothing. They'd seen no trace of man or beast since leaving Dunham. It was like the entire world had vanished.
Doesn't anyone have any cattle or anything out here? This is getting creepy.
"Erik…" prodded Brin.
"Okay," he exhaled. "Let's make for that tree up there, gang, then we can take a break in the shade. But we can't rest long—remember the bad men back in that town?"
Teddy nodded, his eyes wide.
"We don't know if they're going to come after us or not, so we've got to keep moving. Okay?"
His response was to tighten the grip on Erik's hand. Lindsay nodded. Scared, but confident. I'll take it.
"Let's go," said Brin. "My feet are killing me."
By the time they finally reached the shade, the kids were ready to collapse on the cool grass beneath tree’s generous canopy. Erik helped Brin get them settled and pass out their lukewarm canteens. He kept his eyes on the road. Still nothing—no sign of Ted either. Erik checked his rifle for the hundredth time since Billy dropped them off.
Still ready.
In the distance, a crow called out. The mournful sound echoed across the empty fields. To the west, a lonely farmhouse sat about half a mile off the road.
"How far do you think we've come?" asked Brin. She took a sip from her canteen and passed it to Lindsay.
Erik took a drink from his own before responding. "I don't know…we've been walking for a couple hours, but we're moving pretty slow."
"The kids can only walk so fast," said Brin defensively.
"I know that," said Erik, his voice tight with frustration. "I just want to put as much distance between us and that town, as fast as possible."
"Have you heard anything from Ted?" Brin asked after a long moment of silence.
Erik looked at his wife. "Nothing. But I'm not going to risk talking to him. I don't know what he's doing, but I'm sure he won't appreciate his radio going off."
She looked down. "I told you I'm sorry," she said.
I know how that feels…
Erik took a bite of a protein bar and wrapped up the rest before dropping it back in his pocket. The Russian food tasted like cardboard, but they discovered that it was surprisingly filling.
"You guys need a snack, or anything to eat? Now's the time. We have to get moving soon."
"I'm tired of walking," Teddy whined. He looked up at Erik. "My legs hurt. Carry me?"
Erik sighed. As soon as they lost their vehicle, the first thing Erik realized was it would be a long, slow walk with two children. Especially one as little as Teddy. He looked at Brin.
She shrugged. "I can take as much of the gear as possible, but I can't carry your pack and mine."
Now what do I do? Erik thought for a moment. On his back he had his 72 hour kit with enough rations and water filters, first aid supplies, and ammunition to get him through at least three days. Brin carried one fairly similar though lighter than his, with a little more emphasis on first aid. She also carried a pistol.
Lindsay's pack had the rest of their first aid supplies. So far the preteen seemed to have enough energy to carry on, but he doubted she would be going at full speed by sundown. Teddy carried a small bag, with nothing more than a few gauze bandages and bits of food, including a few toys and small personal items they'd been able to scavenge from the Russian prison camp. Erik hated parting with his pack, but Brin was right—there was no way one person could carry both backpacks.
"Okay, we've got to prioritize. Let's start merging packs."
"We need to make sure we bring as much food and first aid supplies as possible," Brin said.
Erik nodded, already rummaging through his bag on the ground. "Here, take the first aid supplies from my bag and give them to Lindsay. You can carry the food since it's heavier. I'll take this small detachable part off and wrap it around my waist. I’ll put all the extra ammo and anything small enough to fit in it. We can take whatever we can out of Teddy’s kit and put in this bag, then hide it behind the tree."
"What—you're just going to leave our stuff?" asked Lindsay.
"No," Erik said. "We're going to plan a treasure hunt for your dad."
"Treasure!" said Teddy. "I can go on a treasure hunt, too?"
Brin laughed and pulled Teddy into an embrace. "Yes we can, little man. I promise we'll go on one soon. Right now we have to keep walking—our treasure is that way," she said pointing north.
"When your dad gets back to us," Erik said as he stood, "I'll make sure to let him know to pick this stuff up on his way out of town."
As they shuffled back out on the road, Erik bent down and scooped up Teddy, perching him on his shoulders. "How's the view up there?"
The little boy laughed. "I can see trees!"
Brin looked at Erik. "In that case, you have a very important job to do."
"I do?" the little boy asked.
"Yes," Brin replied in a serious tone. "You are now the lookout. We need you to spot any cars coming at us. Do you think you can do that?"
"I'll look for planes and pirates, too!" said Teddy.
Erik laughed. Lindsay chastised her brother about looking for pirates, but the toddler remained u
nrepentant. As the two children argued back and forth, Erik trudged on, adjusting to the new weight on his shoulders. The bag he carried weighed about as much as the boy, but it was more evenly distributed over his back, where Teddy sat precariously upon his shoulders. Consequently, the toddler felt a lot heavier than he was and Erik doubted he'd be able to keep up a fast pace much longer.
"Let's get going guys," Erik said, his eyes drawn to the western horizon. "I don't like the way those clouds look."
They continued to walk north, stopping only to drink a few sips of water in whatever shade they could find—the early November sun in Georgia was nothing compared to summer in Florida, but the walk was taxing. Every mile they passed, Erik was more and more grateful for their little breaks, as it meant he could disgorge his cargo for a few minutes and stretch his back.
"I think you're growing on this little hike, Teddy," he said at their latest rest stop. They stood in the shadow of several pines, just off the road as it curved northwest.
"How far do you think we've come?" asked Brin. She poured some water into the cap of her canteen and passed it to Lindsay.
Erik wiped the sweat from his brow. Lightyears, babe, lightyears. You haven't spoken to me this much in the last week. He suppressed a smile. "Hopefully far enough that no one in Dunham wants to come after us."
Brin's eyes rested on his rifle, leaning against the nearest pine. She whispered, "You think they'd come after us? To get your rifle?"
Erik watched her as she moved between the children, making sure they both had enough to eat and drink. "I'd think they'd come after their own mothers. Did you see the way that crowd turned on us?"
"I did—you should have seen it from where I was sitting."
Erik started to say something when a sound reached his ear that made his heart stop. "Listen," he said, holding up a hand.
"But—"
"Sssh!" he hissed. There it was again. An engine, he was sure of it. The sound wafted in on the gentle breeze, fading in and out of detection. Brin heard it too—her look of irritation melted into an open-mouthed gasp of fear.
"Everyone get behind the trees! Now!" he said, urging the children to get up and move. He grabbed his rifle. "Brin, get the kids behind cover, I'll get the gear."
"What is it?" Lindsay asked.
"An engine!" Erik replied.
"Someone's coming, sweetie, we need to get in bushes there," Brin urged.
"Go!" Erik barked.
He dove behind a bush growing between two pines where the children and Brin hid. He pulled their gear and his rifle in after him and held his breath.
"I hear it," whispered Brin, her eyes wide. "It's coming from the south, I think."
"Are the bad men following us?" asked Teddy.
"Is it daddy?" asked Lindsay.
"Sssh," said Brin. She leaned over to Lindsay. "Help me out here."
"O-okay," stuttered the girl.
"Everyone down," ordered Erik. He kept his rifle at his shoulder as he crouched behind the bush. Please let them keep going…
The engine purred and gurgled as the car approached—it sounded powerful, like a muscle car. A black Plymouth Barracuda pulled into view around the corner in front of them and ghosted past, the driver and his passenger scanning the road around them. The car slowly rolled forward, engine rumbling at idle just past their position and stopped.
Shit.
Erik stared at the brake lights, willing them to shut off. His eyes were pulled away from the car to the dark clouds to the west. A bolt of lightning flashed in silence. The driver saw it too. Erik watched the two men up front converse for a moment. The passenger pointed at the approaching storm, then the car rolled forward, picking up speed as it drove north.
Erik only let his breath out when the car had diminished to the size of a toy. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the pine needles on the ground.
"Are they g-gone?" asked Lindsay, her voice cracking.
"Yes, sweetie, they're gone," soothed Brin.
Erik looked up and adjusted his helmet. He felt so tired. Looking at the faces around him, he felt fear and relief wash over him, mixed with exhaustion.
"What time is it?" whispered Brin.
Erik checked his watch. "Gettin' on three." He craned his neck over the bush and scanned the road. The car had disappeared in the distance where the blacktop receded into a wavering heat mirage. "I think it's time we start planning to make camp for the night."
"We're going to sleep…out here?" asked Lindsay, looking around the pines. Her eyes lingered where the trees grew thick behind them, a dark, small forest on the edge of farmland.
"We may not have a choice, Lindsay," said Brin. "It'll be exciting, won't it, Teddy?"
"Yeah!" the little boy squealed. "I love camping!"
Erik lowered his rifle and tried to make his hands stop shaking. He hadn't fired a shot during the fighting at the jail. His rifle still held a full magazine, on top the two in his chest rig. Just thinking about the men in the car returning made his heart race.
Shame bred anger in the back of his mind. Brin would think him a coward for acting like this—the men in the car never even got out, yet he was shaking like a leaf.
Where the hell are you, Ted?
Chapter 20
Philly
THE SECURE SAT PHONE strapped to Major Michael Hughes' Dragon Skin armor chirped. He craned his neck down and activated the shoulder mounted mic. "Raider, Actual."
"Seeker 1, Actual, Command Actual."
Hughes looked up at his new second-in-command. Captain Summers had been grievously injured in their New York raid. His new XO, Jeff Albertson, was a lieutenant on loan from Bravo company.
“Seeker 1 Actual, go ahead.”
The younger man shared a look with Hughes. They both stood up straight. It wasn’t every day a general called you on a sat phone.
"Ready for some action?"
"Locked ‘n cocked, Actual. Just gimme a target."
"Execute extraction Plan Alpha. I'm sending you coordinates."
"Dragonfly?"
"Affirmative," replied Stapleton. "The rebels have her—they're trying to ransom her in exchange for us backing off on the pursuit. I've got the coordinates—go get her."
"Understood."
"Actual out."
Hughes ended the transmission and put his hands on his hips.
"What was that all about?" asked Albertson.
Hughes squinted into the afternoon sun, looking south at the looming Philadelphia skyline. Another Stryker roared past. "Remember the pilot who got shot down a couple days ago? The Falcon driver the Russians got."
"Yeah…" prompted the lieutenant.
"That's Dragonfly. Well, they traded her to the rebels." He checked his sat phone. "Anyway, I got the coordinates. They're using her as leverage to get the general to back down. He said they're threatening to execute her so we gotta move quick and hit hard. You ready for this?"
"Hell yes—it's just a bunch of gang bangers."
We'll see. I thought the same thing before Washington Park.
The two officers waited while another armored vehicle rumbled past, churning up dust and pebbles in its wake. Hughes coughed and turned from the road. He adjusted his helmet and glanced around at the row houses that lined the two-lane road.
"We just broke through their rear guard. General Stapleton is waiting to bring up the tanks, then he's attacking."
"So we're going in first?" asked Albertson.
Hughes nodded as he checked the straps on his combat pack. "Yup. Just like New York."
"Good thing I filled out my will," muttered his XO.
Hughes grunted and stepped past Albertson. If the kid survived, he might have what it took to stay with the Seekers. Summers would get better at some point and want his old job back. He'd be pissed Hughes accepted the rook, but that was a worry for another day.
"Listen up!" Hughes barked, bringing his men to order.
Twelve rough-looking veterans
blinked at the dust and continuous line of armored trucks rolling by, just behind their commanding officer. All of them had survived New York. All of them were combat veterans. All of them were Seekers. Hughes was proud to be going back behind the lines with this crew.
"You all know what happened last time we tried to retrieve this pilot. We got one more shot—Stapleton just green-lighted round two."
A muted chorus of "hooah's" greeted the news. More than a few of them nodded. They were ready.
"We're not coming out without her this time." It wasn't a question. "Get your shit wired. I've got to secure transport. The General's going to kick the front door in…" he checked his watch. "Thirteen mikes. I'll give you two to prep, then we bounce, hooah?"
"Hooah," the men replied.
He turned away as they checked load-outs and weapons, talking amongst themselves. Pressing the transmit button on his shoulder mounted radio, he called out, "Seeker 1, Actual requesting a ride behind the lines. Reaper 3, you ready?"
"Copy that Actual, Reaper is standing by and ready to roll."
"Roger that, we'll be Oscar Mike in five." He looked back at his men. "You ready to bring the pain?"
"Hooah!"
Chapter 21
New Wheels
ERIK HID IN THE bushes and turned his attention from the north where the car had gone, back south toward town. For a moment, he couldn't believe what he saw. He rubbed his eyes and moved some leaves out of the way to get a better view. In the direction of Dunham, a snake of black smoke—not there a moment ago—rose in the sky. Something cold gripped Erik's spine and squeezed.
"Brin," he whispered.
She immediately moved closer to him, making no more than a slight rustle on the dried pine needles of the feet. "What?"
"Look at that," Erik whispered, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the children were preoccupied with getting food and drink.
Brin was silent for a second as she stared south. "What do you think it means?" she murmured.
Erik shook his head. "Don't know—but I bet you anything we know who's behind it."
Dux Bellorum (Future History of America Book 3) Page 12