Under Fire

44

Time isn’t on our side, Jack,” Dom said.

“We’re almost there.”

Although Agachaul was no farther from the ridge road than Makhachkala, the rear approach up the escarpment had taken more than an hour to traverse, partially because the roads were steeper and the hairpins more plentiful and partially because of the quickly deteriorating weather. The intervening day of sun since the previous rainstorm had done little to dry the gravel roads, and rainwater streamed over them in rivulets. And while this was enough to often slow the Suburban to a walking pace, Jack doubted the Krasukhas’ massive off-road tires and powerful diesel engines would have trouble negotiating the grade.

Finally, they rounded the last bend before the entrance to the maintenance road. Jack’s headlights flashed over something dull and metallic. He braked hard and the Suburban skidded to a stop.

The barrier chain was up, its thick links drooping between the steel posts and completely blocking the road.

They got out.

The wind was stronger up there, driving the rain so hard against their ponchos it was as though handfuls of sand were being hurled at them. Jack could feel the chill seeping up his legs. He suppressed a shiver.

“Jack, over here.”

Dom played his flashlight over the steel post. “Padlocked. Big bastard, too. We’d need a fifty-cal to break it.”

They stepped over the chain and walked to the first clearing. Jack shined his flashlight upward. Thirty feet above him a camouflage net drooped between the trees.

“Thorough bastards,” Dom said.

Jack’s phone rang. He stuck it under his hood and bent double to dampen the wind. “Yeah, Seth, what’s happening?”

“We’re back safe. Ysabel’s pretty pissed, though.”

“She’ll get over it.”

“She’s using curse words I’ve never even heard before.”

“Tell me about ERF,” Jack said. “We could use some help up here.”

“Medzhid said no. He’s sorry, but he can’t spare anyone.”

“God damn it, Seth—”

“Jack, Volodin’s ordered the border garrisons to move. They’ll be here by evening at the latest.”

They now had the answer to their big question: Volodin wasn’t going to let Dagestan go without a fight. The ERF wouldn’t be nearly enough, Jack knew. Twelve thousand hardened Russian troops against a few hundred Medzhid politsiya. With luck, they could fight a delaying action long enough to give Seth and Medzhid time to clear the streets of civilians.

“What about the city garrison?”

“They’re still sitting inside their barracks. The commander isn’t taking Medzhid’s calls. At best, they’re going to sit it out. At worst, we’ll have sixteen thousand marching through the city rather than twelve.”

“If that happens, document it all,” Jack replied. “Fire up your hubs.”

“It’s already started, Jack. We sent out the e-mail blast about a half-hour ago. We should start seeing the next wave of protesters joining the first wave outside the Parliament Building. Whether we can show the world depends on you and Dom. I’m not going to risk the hubs until I know they won’t be fried by the Krasukhas.”

“We’ll do our best. If you can spare Matt, send him down to the docks and see what he can do about the Igarka.”

“I can do that.”

“Seth, I want you to get Ysabel out. Put her on a plane or a boat or in a taxi, whatever you’ve got.”

“She won’t go.”

“Make her go.”

“I’ll try, Jack.”

“Do better than that.”

Jack disconnected. He looked around and saw Dom standing beside the Suburban’s open passenger door, a pair of binoculars raised to his eyes.

“Dom?”

“They’re coming up, Jack, all four of them. We’ve got a half-hour at most.”

“Either we head back to the city, try to shanghai some ERF guys and come back, or we stand and fight,” Dom said.

“There’s no ERF to be had,” Jack replied, then told him about Seth’s report. “It’s unraveling down there. I vote we stay.”

“Fine by me, bud. What’s the plan?”

“We’re going to have to part ways with our Suburban.”

Jack explained what he had in mind.

Moving fast, Jack first shattered the Suburban’s dome light, then turned the vehicle around so the nose was facing downhill. Dom found a heavy stone and placed it in front of the rear tire.

They removed their weapons and ammunition from the Suburban, stacked all of it in the trees on the other side of the chain, and did an inventory: four ARXs, two Rugers, and two hundred twenty rounds of ammunition.

“We need steel ones,” Jack said.

Dom checked one of the Ruger clips, said, “Lead hollow-points,” then examined an ARX magazine. “Bingo. Full metal jackets.”

“Hold on,” Jack said.

He walked the road, panning his flashlight over the ground. The rain was coming harder now, raking at the trees along the road. Leaves swirled around Jack’s feet. He stooped over, picked up a flat rock, and carried it back to where Dom was standing.

“Go.”

Dom lifted the ARX to his shoulder and pulled the trigger.

A spark leapt from the rock’s surface.

“We’ve got a winner,” Dom said.

Next they turned their attention to the Suburban. Using the combo car jack/crowbar, they shredded the interior, from the seat covers to the carpet to the roof liner. Finally they tore free all of the material and piled it into the front seat.

“Looks like a tiger got trapped inside for a couple days,” Dom said.

“Perfect. Where are they?”

Dom grabbed the binoculars from the dashboard and aimed them down the road. “About halfway up. The hairpins are slowing them down. I’d say another fifteen minutes.”

Jack checked his watch. It was three forty-five. They had about an hour before sunrise. Good. They could make the darkness work in their favor.

He leaned into the driver’s seat and tugged at the seat cover until he had an armful of cloth. He stuffed this into the cargo area, then added some of the roof liner. Finally he placed the flat rock at the base of the pile.

“What are the odds this’ll work?” asked Dom.

“Depends on how you define work,” Jack replied with a grin. “It’ll go up, no doubt about it. Whether it’ll do us any good we’re going to find out. We’ll need to rig the steering wheel.”

“I’ll handle that. You check on our friends.”

Jack grabbed the binoculars and tracked them down the road until he saw the lead Krasukha’s slitted headlights. The three trailing vehicles were spread down the road at fifty-foot intervals. This, too, might work to their advantage.

“Ten minutes,” Jack called.

After Jack adjusted the Suburban’s tires so they were pointed straight down the road, Dom tied the Suburban’s steering wheel with a length of wire he’d ripped from under the dashboard.

“Let’s walk it,” Jack said.

They hopped over the chain barrier and split up, each of them pushing through the underbrush for a few minutes before meeting back at the Suburban.

“I’ve got a few good trees on my side, but not much room to maneuver,” said Dom.

“Same here. If we can get them stopped and out of their vehicles, they’ll have to come straight up the middle with no cover.”

“And if we don’t get them stopped, they’re going to plow right over us. We haven’t talked GTFO,” said Dom, referring to the Get the Fuck Out plan.

“We run like hell.”

“You know what they say about a bear chasing you, right?”

“Huh-uh.”

Dom grinned. “You don’t have to be faster than the bear, you just have to be faster than the guy running beside you.”

“Fuck you, Dom.”

“Love you too, man.”

Faintly in the distance they heard the groan of diesel engines.

“Time for the gas,” Jack said.