The Last Templar

Chapter 64

Instinctively, Reilly lunged toward Tess, but Vance had already seized her by the waist and was pushing her to safety behind his pickup truck. More bullets whizzed by and exploded around Reilly as he dived for cover behind the Pajero, while instinctively concentrating on trying to isolate the echo of the report to get a handle on where the shooter was. Three shots blasted into their SUV, ripping through the hood and into the engine block and shredding the right front tire while giving him a very rough angle on the sniper's position: somewhere to the south, in the tree line—and hopelessly out of pistol range.

An uneasy silence descended on the forest, and, after a tense moment's respite, Reilly leaned out to survey the damage. The Pajero wasn't going anywhere. He looked over toward the upturned table, where they'd been sitting. The wiry, balding Turk was huddled behind it and looked terrified. Reilly noticed a movement to his side, by the shed, a flash of blue as Rustem emerged with a rifle, another small-caliber weapon, something he probably used for hunting rabbits. The old man stood there, scanning the distant trees, bewildered, looking for a shot. Reilly waved and yelled out to him frantically, but, before the man could react, two more rounds came from the sniper, one ricocheting off the concrete pipes stacked on the ground, the other spinning into the old man's chest, slamming him back against the shed like a rag doll.

From behind his Pajero's tailgate, Reilly saw Vance reaching up to yank open the door of the pickup before pushing Tess in ahead of him and scrambling in behind her. He started up the engine and cranked the car into gear. The wiry Turk managed to clamber onto the Toyota's flatbed just as it swung around and headed for the gate of the compound.

Reilly had no choice. He also had no time to retrieve his Browning from the Pajero. Looking up at the hillside nervously, he decided to risk it. He emerged from behind the SUV and darted after the disappearing pickup.

Two more shots crunched into the side of the Toyota as Reilly caught up with it by the gate and grabbed onto its tailgate. The pickup crashed through the side pole of the gate before lumbering on down the craggy trail. Reilly hung on with pained fingers, his legs dragging on the rough ground, then his left leg slammed against a protruding rock, pain shooting up into his spine like a white-hot spike. Every muscle in his body was ablaze, and he felt he was about to let go.

But he couldn't.

Tess was in the truck. He couldn't lose her. Not here, not now.

He looked up and glimpsed a handle on the inside on the sidewalk He drew on every ounce of strength left inside him and kicked the ground with spinning legs while lunging for the handle with his left hand. His fingers flew off the tailgate and clasped onto it, and he pulled on it, levering himself upward and dragging himself onto the flatbed.

The Turk was lying low against the sidewall, clutching his rifle, peering anxiously over the side. He turned and saw Reilly climb aboard. Alarmed, the man swung the rifle stock at him, but Reilly seized the barrel and thrust it upward, hearing the report and feeling the recoil as the man squeezed the trigger. Reilly spun his legs around and smashed his boot into the Turk's groin before lunging at him. As they struggled, Reilly spotted something and looked over the cab of the pickup. Less than a hundred yards ahead, a beige Land Cruiser was parked across the dirt path, blocking their way. The Turk saw it too, and there was no falloff in the engine's whine. Vance wasn't backing off. Reilly shot a glance through the back window of the cab and his eyes met Tess's. She looked frightened as she reached forward and braced herself against the dashboard.

Reilly and the Turk both grabbed onto the top of the cab as the pickup sloped off the edge of the track, juddered on the rough, rocky soil, and squeezed through between the edge of the hillside and the parked Land Cruiser, ramming the front of the big SUV. It plowed through in an eruption of glass and plastic and raced on.

Reilly glanced back at the Land Cruiser, which looked like it was too heavily damaged to be of any use to the shooter, and then the Turk was pulling on the rifle again, trying to free it from Reilly's grasp. As they struggled, the pickup reached the edge of the dam and bounced onto it without slowing down.

It sped along the concrete roadway that ran across the top of the dam, racing to cross to the other end. Standing now, Reilly punched the Turk repeatedly, finally succeeding in wrenching the rifle loose, only for the man to wrap his arms around Reilly's chest and squeeze hard. Too close to effectively use his knees, Reilly lashed out with his foot, kicking the man on the inside of his right ankle. The man's grip loosened, and Reilly managed to push him off. They were up against the cab now, and Reilly caught a fleeting glimpse of Tess, who was struggling with Vance, urging him to stop. She grabbed hold of the wheel, and the pickup swerved and hit die retaining wall. Reilly lost his grip on the rifle, which slithered along the bed and fell clattering onto the concrete roadway, and saw the Turk's alarmed look as it disappeared in the distance. Panicking, the man lunged recklessly at him. Reacting instinctively, Reilly rolled backward underneath the Turk's rushing body and brought up his feet to throw him over the side of the speeding pickup, which again hit the wall with a resounding crack. The man flew off the truck and went straight over the wall, hurtling down the dry side of the dam, his scream vanishing in the roar of the pickup's motor.

They had reached the end of the dam, and Vance spun the wheel to send the pickup sliding onto the dirt track that Reilly and Tess had followed that morning. As they bumped down the rutted trail, Reilly knew they were now shielded from the hilltop where he reckoned the sniper was positioned.

Given the road conditions, Vance was forced to slow down, but there was no need to stop him just yet.

He let him drive on for a few miles before rapping on the top of the cab. The professor nodded his acquiescence and, moments later, the pickup rolled to a halt.