They touched down at the CIA airfield an hour and a half later. A scorching Texas sun glinted off the windshield of an ambulance speeding toward them as they rolled to a stop.
Lamont's breathing was harsh and ragged. Nick held his hand.
"Shadow," Nick said. "You're back on US soil. We'll get you to a hospital."
"Yeah." Lamont coughed. There was blood on his lips. He turned his head away and closed his eyes.
A fuel truck rumbled up. A man in orange overalls got out of the truck and hooked up to the plane. Fuel began pumping into the tanks. A black SUV came toward them across the concrete and stopped. The man who got out wore a blue sport jacket and a white shirt open at the collar. He had on a pair of aviator Ray Bans. He didn't introduce himself.
"Are you Carter?" he said.
"That's right."
"I was told to give you what I've got in the truck."
He opened the doors of the SUV. Ronnie and Nick looked inside.
There was a box of faded uniforms that looked like they'd come from an Army-Navy surplus store. On the back seat were three M16s that had seen better days. A cardboard box held magazines, ammunition and two holstered Beretta M9 pistols. There were two satellite phones next to the pistols.
"You gotta be kidding," Ronnie said.
"That's it?" Nick said. "This is everything they sent?"
The man shrugged. "I'm only the delivery boy. You want this stuff or not?"
Nick picked up an M-16. The stock was battered and marked from use. He racked the bolt and examined the rifle. It had the old-style pronged flash suppressor on the end of the barrel. Left over from Vietnam, he thought. At least it's clean and oiled.
"Yeah, I want them. Grab the boxes Ronnie."
They carried the box and weapons to the plane. Nick said to Elizabeth, "Director, you and Stephanie get off here."
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Elizabeth said.
"It's my decision," Nick said. "There isn't anything you and Steph can do if you go with us. If you get killed, everything goes in the crapper. I don't want you along."
"You don't mince words, do you?"
"I don't see much point to it," Nick said. "I need you to watch our back."
"What about your hand?"
"What about it? I can still handle a weapon."
Elizabeth wanted to go. The time on the island had changed something. She felt more like a part of the team, close to them, not just their boss. She wanted to stay with them, but Nick was right.
"What about communications?" she asked.
"Hood sent two phones." Nick handed her one.
"All right, Nick. Stop them." She walked away.
The attendants loaded Lamont into the ambulance. Elizabeth and Stephanie got in with him. Nick watched the ambulance drive off. It was a relief. He didn't have to think about Lamont anymore, or the two women. He felt just a twinge of guilt for feeling that way. He brushed the thought aside.
Back at the plane, Korov picked up one of the M16s. "These are old," he said.
"Yeah. Better than nothing. They only sent three," Nick said.
"I have my own."
Korov reached into an overhead compartment and took out an odd looking weapon. It was equipped with a scope and had a futuristic looking stock.
"Interesting," Ronnie said. "Can I take a look?"
"It is loaded," Korov said. "Be careful."
Ronnie found the selector switch and made sure it was on safe. He brought the weapon to his shoulder, brought it back down. It was light weight. Ronnie guessed it at around three pounds.
"Is this a spare magazine in back, like a stock?"
"Da. It holds 44 rounds. Nine millimeter. This is a PP2000. We like it, although the MP5 is perhaps better."
"Rate of fire?"
"Around 850."
Ronnie handed the weapon back. he sat down and began stripping one of the rifles.
Twenty minutes later, they were in the air.