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Chapter 11 – The Escape
If, at the time, someone had told Mac Taylor that within twelve hours he'd be sitting by a pool sipping cocktails with an old friend, he'd have laughed in their face. Five minutes after having hung up the phone in Amir's office and with only the barest thought as to how Stella and Jo were getting on together, Mac raced down the stairs and out into the compound. Ben was hot on his heels. "Come on guys. We gotta go. Are the charges set?"
Hicks threw him a quick salute. "Good to go Cap. Ninety second timer."
"Great. Then let's get out the hell of here! Mac you drive." Ben jumped into the back of the Land-Cruiser next to Hicks as Mac jumped into the driver's seat next to Davy who seemed to have brightened up a little since returning to the compound and being given food and medication, not to mention a chance to exact a little revenge.
"You okay Davy?"
"Yeah but I'll be even better when this place goes up. I should have done it before. Blown it all up. I shouldn't have let them make me do that stuff. If they use it ..."
Mac laid a hand on his arm. " It's going be okay. No harm will come to anybody. My team are the best in the world. They will stop it. Right now you need to hold on tight. It's gonna get a little rough!" Ben Holland turned to look at Mac. A little rough? Mac pulled a wry face before turning round and, putting the car into drive, he hit the accelerator. He ignored the sound of breaking glass as he took off north. Rogers was sitting in the well between the rear door and the back seats hammering out the back windscreen with the butt of an assault rifle while Hicks was trying to position his feet around a long slim box.
"What the hell is this Rog?"
"A couple of little toys I … er … purloined for you from our friends back there." Curious, Hicks hefted the box onto his knee and opened up the catches on the metal container.
"Oh nice … a little retro by today's standards but one can't be too fussy!" Hicks grinned as he looked at the interior as the car bounced along the dirt track.
"What are they?" asked Davy but before either soldier could respond a series of deafening explosions caused all five men to duck slightly. Mac glanced in the rear-view mirror and nodded, impressed at the result of the charges that Davy and his two companions had rigged from the contents of Amir's bomb-making factory. Mac pressed the accelerator a little harder making the engine grind as it plunged along the road. He prayed that the engine would last them long enough. He glanced at the dash and was concerned to see that the fuel indicator was at zero.
"Did you have time to fill er up?" Mac tapped at the indicator.
Rogers nodded as he tried to brace himself against the seat-back. He was having trouble getting a stable position for his rifle on the back ledge as the car bumped along the road. "Filled her up. You're good for a couple of hundred miles. Indicator's stuck."
"How far to the rendezvous Mac?" asked Ben.
"Probably about another forty miles but how quickly Bertha can get here is another matter." Mac glanced nervously in the rear view mirror. So far so good. There was no sign of pursuers, just the curling black smoke from the blazing compound. His knuckles were white where they gripped the steering wheel and his shoulders ached as he strained to keep the huge car in the ruts. He swore he could feel every stone and bump.
Mac heard the engine labour as it pulled up the rise and crested the hill before plunging down the other side. The wide expanse in front of them was nothing but a rocky desert with the dried out watercourses known as wadis, ridges, and depressions with a sparse covering of scrub vegetation. Mac's blood pressure rose a little higher as this was the most exposed part of their ride. He had to make it to the other side and into the higher ground before Amir and his men worked out where they were. He eased off the accelerator as the car bounced and twisted down the incline. He fought with the gear lever to introduce a little engine braking to control their descent. A glance at Davy sitting next to him showed the young man gripping his bag like his life depended on it, his eyes wide at the speed with which they were heading to the bottom.
Ben gripped onto the back of Mac's seat and twisted around to look behind him. His head almost hit the roof as the car met the floor of the plain and levelled out. Mac geared up and pressed the accelerator to the floor. He felt the engine open up and they flew along. Mac only eased off as they approached the first wadi. He crested the ridge and brought the car onto the bed of the old water-course. Twisting the wheel he followed the course of the wadi heading north west. He could almost hear the sighs of relief as the ride smoothed out a little.
They drove for another two minutes before Rog raised the alarm. "Oh oh! Company at eight o'clock." Ben twisted round and watched as three cars headed down the escarpment behind them. "They're spreading out. Get us outta here Mac."
"Easier said than done." Mac muttered to himself as he realized the sides of the wadi were getting higher. There was no way he could get them out without turning them over. All he could do for the time being was follow the watercourse which was at least taking them in roughly the right direction. Ben, Hicks and Rogers kept an eye on their pursuers until they reached the plain and all but one of them were lost from sight. Suddenly the wadi opened out in front of them where the water course split into two directions. Mac swerved slightly to his left and headed straight for the side of the wadi. The engine complained at the acceleration but the car lifted up off the ground and landed with a jarring thud at the other side. Mac blinked furiously to focus on what was ahead of him. "Oh shit! … Hold on!"
The deep rut had high sides and was a little under two metres wide. Mac knew that they would get stuck if he drove straight into it. He flung the wheel to the right and the occupants of the Land-Cruiser felt it tip at the sudden change of direction. By some miracle the car remained upright but Mac was forced to follow the deep rut which ran north to south. He needed to cut back west as soon as possible.
"Bad guys at five o'clock," announced Hicks as a rattle of gunfire peppered the ground behind them. "Go west Mac."
"I'm trying." Mac searched desperately for a spot where he could cross. But Lady Luck was with them and the ridges were gradually getting lower. Mac spotted a break in the wall and pushed the Land-Cruiser through it, across the bed and up the other side. Rogers started firing back at the car that was catching up with them. "Come on," Mac begged the Land-Cruiser but his foot was already to the floor and he was getting all the power he could from the ageing machine.
"Okay let's see if these babies still work." Hicks pulled a green cylinder from the box at his feet and with a quick twist pulled out the rear to elongate the tube. Davy tried to twist around to see what it was. "An M72 L.A.W." Hicks told him as he armed it. Mac took his eyes of the road a second to see what Hicks was doing. His jaw dropped.
"Are you out of your mind? That thing's got to be at least twenty years old. How do even know it will fire?" Mac was obliged to turn away but he glanced at Hicks in the mirror.
"Only one way to find out." Hicks lowered the window. "Pull her to the right a little and keep her steady Mac."
"And you said I was crazy," muttered Mac to himself as he complied with Hick's request.
"A little covering fire please Rog and force 'em left!" Hicks voice was almost carried away as he leaned out of the window. Ben grabbed hold of the back of his belt to prevent him from falling out. Time seemed to stand still for a few seconds. The pop from the grenade launcher was inaudible over the sound of the engine and the covering gunfire but a loud explosion sent rock and dust flying and the the pursuing Land-Cruiser took off, rolled and landed upside-down to slide into the wadi behind them.
Hicks clambered back inside. "Yep they still work." He grinned at Mac. Davy just stared at them like they were insane.
"One down, two to go," announced Ben. "The other two are way south." Hicks looked past Ben out of the window. "Looks like they're holding a parallel course." One of the radio's they had taken from Amir's men earlier crackled and a brief message was broadcast. Ben frowned. "They're going to try to cut us off at the pass. Mac we're going to have to head north and figure out how to get back to the rendezvous afterwards."
Mac nodded and turned the wheel. "Hold on." The car plunged down into the next water-course and they followed the flat smooth bottom of the wadi north. The radio crackled again. A question, then a response.
Ben grinned. "They've lost sight of us. Keep going Mac." Mac nodded again as he glanced at the dash. It wasn't the fuel indicator sitting at zero that worried him. It was the engine temperature indicator that was at the opposite end of the scale that preoccupied his thoughts.
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"CSI:NY – CSI:NY – CSI:NY"
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Wendell Grant chewed on his cigar and hummed to himself as he shifted his big bulk in his chair. "Y'all right back there Jimmy?"
A mop of ginger hair appeared in the doorway. "Yeah, that crate of satellite receivers had worked it's way loose. I need to replace that strap." Jimmy threw himself down into the copilot's seat and popped open a can of Bud.
Wendell glared at him. "What about me?"
Jimmy grinned at him cheekily. "Nah, you know you shouldn't drink and fly." Before Wendell could answer a red light started flashing on the panel above his head. Wendell glanced up and murmured something unintelligible. He reached under his seat and brought out a rubber-headed mallet. He gave the panel a firm thunk and the light went out. "You know you're gonna' have to fix that one day, don't ya?" Jimmy asked as he took another swig.
Wendell Grant chewed on his cigar and scratched his thatch of grizzly grey hair as he contemplated the panel. "Been like that for past twenty-three years, ain't about to go messing with her now am I darlin'?" Wendell lovingly patted the console in front of him. The engine noise changed pitch ever so slightly and if Jimmy hadn't known better he could have sworn that the plane was answering back. "So how far are we from the rendezvous?"
"Huh?" Jimmy looked across at the older man as though he had asked him to calculate the speed of light.
"You are supposed to be the navigator. Where are we?" Wendell's cigar bobbed up and down frantically as he waved his hands in the air.
"Er...". Jimmy turned to look at his scope and then at his map. "Er...".
Wendell sighed and rolled his eyes. His nephew was not exactly quick on the uptake but then when he thought about his sister, he realized it was hardly surprising. Wendell grabbed the cigar from his mouth and peered through the windscreen. "Forget it. We're almost there."
Jimmy looked up from the map. "Er … how d'ya know?" Wendell's bushy eyebrows shot up and gestured out of the window with his cigar. "Cos that looks like Mac's work!" Benny squinted at the horizon and then opened his eyes in surprise as a huge fireball rose up into the air accompanied by a big cloud of thick black smoke..
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"CSI:NY – CSI:NY – CSI:NY"
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Having successfully negotiated the wadi and made it up to the higher ground on the other side of the plain, Mac was obliged to turn back south. Glancing at Davy, he was surprised to see the boy's eyes closed. He touched his arm and Davy stirred and blinked blearily at him. Mac could tell that the medication they had given him was wearing off and that he was exhausted. Mac tried to give him a reassuring smile and was rewarded with a small nod. Ben, Hicks and Rogers scanned the hillside. "There they are. Ten o'clock." Hicks yelled as he grabbed the second M72 from the box. Repeating the same manoeuvre as before, Mac swung them round, Hicks leaned out of the window and Rog provided covering fire. The old Ford 4x4 was no match for the rocket propelled grenade and it somersaulted elegantly through the air before coming to rest on it's side, it's front fender stuck in a rut. "Two down ..."
"... and one heading straight at us!" yelled Mac. Ben managed to pull Hicks back in just as a barrage of small weapons fire peppered the front of the Land-Cruiser. Mac yanked on the hand-brake and spun the wheel turning them a hundred and eighty degrees. All three soldiers turned to face backwards and peppered the modern black SUV following them with as many bullets as they had.
"Captain!" Roger's voice sounded panicked but Mac couldn't see what was happening behind him as he fought with the gears. "Incoming!" Without knowing why Mac suddenly pulled hard to the left. The explosion missed them by several feet but the shock-wave caused the car to buck and Mac's hands slipped on the wheel. A sudden dip took him by surprise and he felt the right hand wheels lift off the ground. Davy slid towards him held only by his seat-belt, the bag slipping from his hands as he tried to hold on. Mac suddenly found himself lying against the driver's side door. The car slid to a halt wedged in a gulley.
Rogers scrambled through the destroyed back window and yanked open the rear door. Hicks and Ben scrambled out beside him. "Cover me." yelled Ben as he spotted the black SUV that had overshot them turn around and head back their way for another pass. Hicks and Rogers took up position as Ben scrambled on top of the car and yanked open the passenger door. He reached in as Mac unclipped Davy's seatbelt and hauled the young man out. "Mac, come on!" The gunfire was deafening as Mac scrambled out after Davy. Ben half-dragged, half-carried Davy to the gulley behind their immobilized car.
"Move it Mac. We're running out of ammo!" Rog shouted as he continued firing. Mac pushed himself up and out and fell to the ground. Scrambling up he reached back inside the car making a grab for Davy's bag.
"Go!" he yelled pushing Hicks and Rogers back towards the gulley where Ben lay with Davy in his arms. They all threw themselves flat as the ground around them danced spitting stones and dust in all directions. The black SUV roared past, two gunmen clearly visible. The driver was showing off as he brought the car into a perfect copy of Mac's earlier handbrake turn ready to make another run. "That way! Go!"
Rogers and Hicks grabbed Davy and headed past their car up the gulley. Ben paused to raise his rifle trying to give them a chance but knowing in his heart that they stood no chance against the men in the SUV. Suddenly he felt pressure on the barrel of the gun as Mac pushed it down. "No need for that. I've got something much better." Ben looked at Mac as he opened Davy's bag and pulled out a small blue object the size of his hand. "You might want to run!" suggested Mac as he twisted the base one hundred and eighty degrees.
Ben stared at him. "Oh shit!"
Mac took off after Ben and the others, yelled at them to get down, then spun on his heel and lobbed the bottle. Not at the Black SUV but at their old faithful Land-Cruiser. The combination of RDX, over-heated engine and an almost full fuel tank was spectacular. Mac felt a blast of heat and flame roll over him as he threw himself down. Another smaller explosion announced the destruction of the other SUV as it's fuel tank exploded caught in the blast from the first. For a few moments no one moved then all five men, having decided that they were, in fact, still alive rolled over and lay on their backs gazing up at the huge cloud of black smoke rising slowly into the sky.
A few minutes later the sound of a plane approaching caused them to turn. They watched as the plane touched down and gently rolled past them to turn and taxi back stopping some thirty feet away.
"What the hell is that?" asked Hicks aghast as he and his two companions stared at the plane.
Mac got up a little gingerly trying not to wince at the bumps and bruises. "That is Big Bertha." Mac gestured to a painting of a buxom fifties pin-up girl just under the pilot's window.
"No, I mean what is that? What kind of plane?"
"Oh … it's an Ilyushin Crate!" Mac did his best to keep a straight face. "She's a real collector's item. There are not many of them flying these days."
Ben Holland, who was patting the back of his head convinced that his hair was on fire, took a step back and glared at Mac. "Not many of them flying!" Ben looked at Mac horrified. "I'm not surprised. Just look at it. That thing has to be over fifty years old!". The door of the plane creaked open and a grey, grizzly bear of a man stuck his head out and waved.
Mac nodded. "Fifty-six to be precise but it's best not to mention a lady's age!" He ignored the stares of the three soldiers and headed towards the plane, his hand raised in greeting.
"You fella's need a lift?" Wendell yelled. "Cos you'd better hurry up before they send someone to investigate why an unidentified plane is flying around their airspace! They're a bit sensitive about that kind of thing round 'ere."
Hicks and Rog carefully carried Davy into the plane, followed by Mac and Ben who was still eyeing the unpainted cigar-shaped Crate with suspicion. Within minutes they were in the air. Wendell swapped places with Jimmy giving him instructions to keep the plane below the radar. Ben and Hicks had managed to get Davy comfortable across two seats. He was wrapped in a blanket and propped up against a large bundle. His eyes were closed and Hicks was rummaging through a bag that Jimmy had given him earlier impressed at the selection of medical supplies they kept on board.
"You got everything you need?" Wendell asked gruffly as he descended into the modified cabin.
Hicks nodded. "You're very well equipped." Wendell took that to be a compliment about his beloved plane. "Aye she's a beauty isn't she? Picked her up just after the first Gulf War. It was love at first sight." Hicks cast a glance at his two colleagues before looking at Mac. They all appeared to be seriously contemplating the question as they took in the somewhat rudimentary interior from the two rows of seats at the front of the plane. Ben glanced nervously at one of the portholes that was held together with duct tape; he hadn't quite got over the large blackened scar on the left wing that if he had to guess looked like it had been caused by a surface to air missile. Hicks glanced at the crates and the jumble of odds and ends that were strapped to the sides of the plane including a shiny new racing bike, a pile of old tyres and a wedding dress in a plastic cover while Rog leaned over the back of the faded leather chair to investigate what turned out to be a pair of pot-bellied pigs rooting around in a bowl of vegetables at the bottom of a large wire cage. "Refreshments are in the cooler." Wendell gestured towards an old Frigidaire that had been bolted to the bulkhead and looked almost as old as the plane.
Rog, being the closest. opened the cooler and grinned as he grabbed a beer and tossed it to Ben. "Wow is that caviar?" He pointed at a dozen large cans.
Wendell grabbed his cigar. "Ah that's off limits! That's a … gift for … an important client."
"You mean a bribe?" Mac grinned at his old friend as he too caught a beer tossed at him by Rog.
Wendell grimaced feigning a shocked expression. "Mac! How could you suggest such a thing? Bribe is such a crude word. Now you boys sit back and enjoy the ride. We'll be home in time for Pina Coladas!"
"Wendell?" Jimmy called from the cockpit. "That light thing's flashing again. Do I hit it?"
Wendell rolled his eyes. "Excuse me. Better get back. Kid's a great pilot but not much of a map reader. I'd better take over before we end in up in Iran!" All four men's eyes widened as they slowly leaned towards the centre aisle to watch Wendell climb into the cockpit and take his place at the controls. He reached under his seat and then hit the flashing red light with a rubber-headed mallet. As he turned and give them a thumbs up they all leaned back and simultaneously took a very long pull at the cans of beer.
"Pina Coladas sound good!" commented Rog.
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A/N. Hope it was worth waiting for and you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.