The Seven Seals of Egypt

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

To his credit, the driver moved instantly.

Flinging the wheel to the right this time, he made the speeding behemoth screech in protest. Joints rattled and clattered but held. Drake watched the enormous canvas cover tear free and flap off in the wind like a newly born pterodactyl.

A rocket impacted just behind their rear right wheel, sending up a large amount of dirt. The force of the explosion also lifted the truck at that side, forcing the wheel off the floor and the whole vehicle to tilt.

Drake held on with a death grip, more conscious now that the pursuing fighters would almost certainly kill them outright this time. Potentially, his life rested on the balance of the truck. The back end went high, sand and dirt following it in a rippling heap. His vision altered, now showing the sky. Luther tumbled back into the truck, losing his grip on the RPG. Worse, Snyder tipped over the side of the truck, tumbling over and smashing hard against the desert floor, unmoving.

Luther cursed as he moved against the truck’s upward inertia, gripping a strut and staring fixedly at Snyder’s clearly dead body. “Fuck!”

The big man then flung himself against the rising back of the truck, using his weight to help right the stability. The truck seemed to rise and hang in the air for hours as Drake held on but he knew it was mere seconds. The driver worked hard at the wheel, keeping it in line, and then it came down, ass first, back on the road.

Drake breathed in relief, then saw the other truck slewing left and right along desert mounds. “Looks like it evaded the missile and got stuck in sand,” he said.

Another of Luther’s men lay in its wake, dead.

The huge head fell. “Dammit, these kinda good men are hard to come by.”

Drake offered him the rocket launcher with his one free hand. “You dropped this, mate.”

Luther glared. “Give me the damn thing.”

Another rocket came out of the box, a man called Nielsen throwing the object over to him. Luther keyed his comms. “How long to the road?”

He didn’t like the answer, shaking his head again. “Time to light up the entire desert.”

Drake saw four chase vehicles in total. Two standard and two with the wicked-looking turret. The latter two were leading the pack now, their guns lined up.

“You have to get off this road,” Mai said tightly. “We’re lit up like Chinatown.”

“What I have to do is blow up one of those assholes,” Luther said, loading quickly.

Drake saw the problem here. Luther was a blood and fury old-schooler. This was what he did. Realistically, it would come down to who had the biggest, meanest weapons.

“What else you got in that crate?” Kenzie asked quickly.

“We could help,” Drake said. “We have as much riding on this as you do.”

Luther merely snarled. “Once I’ve bagged my meat, it’s let out only to be thrown into the oven. Sit tight.”

Dahl sighed. “I don’t think he likes you.”

“Really? And he’s such an accommodating guy.”

A shrug. “So says Alicia.”

“Now what’s that supposed to mean?”

“A joke.” Dahl and Drake watched Luther fire another rocket, missing the two lead trucks but hitting one of the followers. Flames and tearing metal marked the devastation, and a pump of the fist from Luther.

The loss only spurred the attack on. Both lead vehicles were close now, turret-guns trained and men visible in the back with rifles at the ready. Shells slammed out of the turrets, both missing by inches and sending plumes of dirt across both truck beds and the cabs. Luther bellowed crazily, picked up a semi-auto and started peppering the closest attacker with bullets. Nielsen ran to his side, the two men unleashing walls of lead and seeing them bounce off bulletproof glass and metal.

“Grenades,” Luther said.

When he turned to watch Nielsen fetch them, Drake saw a feral twitch to the side of his mouth, an agreeable expression across his face. Nielsen ran back and the two stood right on the back of the truck, lobbing grenades at their pursuers.

“Happy days,” Dahl said with concern. “This isn’t looking good, folks.”

“Need to get free,” Drake pulled on the cuffs again. “Nielson has the keys.”

Ignoring the grenades, prepared to risk injury to gain the rewards, the chasing vehicle ploughed through each explosion, coming closer and closer. When it was near enough to jump aboard Drake could see the expressions of the men driving and of those in the back. The gun turret swiveled, but it was a distraction.

Through rear rails, guns were propped. The sudden sound of gunfire was ear-splitting.

Luther staggered and fell to one knee, holding his side. Nielsen was shot through half a dozen times, the bullet ripping holes in his back and deflecting past Drake and Dahl to slam in the cab, as the unfortunate man tumbled backward and came to lay dead, right in front of the SPEAR team.

Luther turned. “I need more firepower.”

Drake saw the other truck under similar assault. Another hail of bullets struck right down the center of the truck. A scream from the driver sent everyone’s nightmarish fears into overdrive.

The truck began to veer.

Drake and Dahl dived to the floor.

Luther protected himself just as the offside wheels veered into a sandbank and the entire vehicle tilted, slowed rapidly and fell over. The world tilted, everything shifted. Drake hung on once more for dear life.

And heard the mercs laughing hard as they pulled up, some firing for fun into the sky. He figured they had about thirty seconds to live.