The Prisoner's Gold

19

Cobb pressed on toward the market city of Kashgar as the sun slowly rose behind him. They needed to dump the Land Cruiser and rid themselves of their sleeping guide, whose body odor was now an exercise in masochism. This early in the day, Cobb was able to drive with the windows down, but he was still looking forward to saying goodbye to their snoozing companion.

After hours of silence, Cobb heard movement in the seat behind him. ‘Can’t wait to see those pals of yours again at the border.’

‘You and me both,’ McNutt yawned. When he wasn’t taking his turn behind the wheel, he had preferred to ride in the back seat — closer to the stash of weapons in the vehicle’s rear cargo area. ‘I could go for some coffee, too.’

Cobb nodded in agreement. ‘You know, I try not to pry too much into how you do what you do, but I’ve got to ask: how did you get those guys at the border to come through for us? Is that just some Marines-for-life stuff, or did you actively save their lives in Afghanistan?’

‘No, nothing like that. They all work at the embassy in Bishkek.’

‘Wait. Those guys were diplomatic security?’

‘How do you think they were able to get us fake passports and visas so easily?’ McNutt said with a laugh. ‘Anyway, they want a Marine Corps Ball this year, but the ambassador didn’t want to shell out the cash for it. He said they’d have to raise the funds themselves. What a douche. You can always spot the political appointees in an embassy. They’re the assholes.’

Cobb nodded in agreement. He had noticed that, too.

‘Anyway,’ McNutt said, ‘they were throwing parties at the Marine House every weekend to raise funds, but the money coming in from selling cold hot dogs and warm soda just wasn’t cutting it. So I offered to pay for the ball for the next three years.’

Cobb smiled. He imagined the bond between Marines was a much larger part of the story than what McNutt was telling, but he also understood that sometimes the smallest of gestures was enough to grease the wheels in the armed forces. He remembered a few ‘scratch my back’ stories from his army days. He was about to share one with McNutt when he noticed a sudden change in their surroundings.

They lapsed into silence when they realized what was happening; they were about to be swallowed by a sandstorm. Even on the outskirts of the dead zone, the violent winds could whip up a cloud of sand more than a mile long in a matter of seconds. This one was at least forty feet high with an unknown depth. Although neither man said a word, they both knew Cobb would need his full concentration to drive through the violent haze.

And then things got worse.

The bulbous nose of a Russian Mil Mi-171E helicopter burst through the cloud and ripped out over the road. As the chopper closed in from two hundred yards, Cobb watched as the transport’s side door opened and a Chinese Type 56 assault rifle emerged.

‘Hang on,’ Cobb said. It was the only warning he could offer before the man on the chopper opened fire.

Cobb swerved to the left shoulder of the road as a hail of bullets tore into the Land Cruiser’s roof. He pressed the accelerator to the floor and barreled into the dust storm, praying that the helicopter didn’t have any ground support on the other side of the cloud. It wouldn’t do Cobb much good if he slammed into a roadblock of big trucks at sixty-five miles per hour.

Thankfully, the cloud wasn’t as deep as Cobb had expected, and the Toyota sliced through it and into fresh air before he realized he hadn’t closed the windows to keep out dust.

‘Josh,’ Cobb yelled, ‘what do you have to take down a chopper?’

The Marine didn’t answer.

Cobb glanced in the rearview mirror and nearly panicked.

The Land Cruiser fishtailed wildly across the road as Cobb slammed on the brakes. Once the vehicle finally stopped, he threw the transmission into PARK and whipped around to make sense of the scene behind him. McNutt and Ali were both slumped over with their eyes closed. The entire back seat was covered in a mixture of blood and guts, and everything was coated with so much sand that they looked like they had been dipped in breadcrumbs.

‘Josh!’ Cobb yelled as he ripped off his seatbelt. Fearing the loss of another team member, he started to climb into the back seat to check for vitals. ‘Stay with me, Josh!’

McNutt’s eyes popped open. ‘Where the hell am I gonna go?’

Cobb leaped backward, startled to find McNutt alive under the blanket of gore. ‘Holy shit! I thought you were dead!’

‘Nah,’ McNutt said, partially dazed. He turned his head and noticed the guide’s entrails spilled upon the floor. Much of his torso was leaking, too. ‘Just this guy.’

Cobb grabbed the wheel of the Land Cruiser, then yanked the transmission back into DRIVE. His first order of business was locating the chopper again.

‘Chief,’ McNutt said as he examined the guide, ‘you’re not going to believe this.’

‘What now?’ Cobb blurted, fearing the worst.

McNutt took a deep whiff. ‘This joker actually smells better dead.’