After The Raid
By: AliasCWN
Chapter 4
After Troy left Hitch settled onto his stomach to watch the sergeant make his way across the sand. He wondered if Troy realized how far it was to the battle site. Using field glasses, he studied the area around the abandoned vehicles. As far as he could tell there was no one left alive to threaten the sergeant. The column had cleared the bodies before leaving so it made sense that there would be no survivors left behind either. This revelation made it less likely that there would be any immediate return to the site. Still, the plumes of smoke could draw attention from any number of enemies.
The sun beat down on his back as he watched his sergeant's figure grow smaller and smaller in the distance. Using his sleeve, he wiped the sweat from his forehead, keeping it from running into his eyes. The distance to the site made it impossible for him to cover Troy if he ran into trouble. Hitch eyed the desert and wondered if he could make it to his sergeant's aid if there was a problem. He needed the glasses now to follow Troy's progress since the sergeant blended into his environment.
The greasy black smoke worried him as it rose over thirty feet into the air before it began to disperse. The twin spirals blew lazily in the clear blue sky until they faded in the distance. Like buzzards, they told a tale of violence and perhaps death, and would be seen by many as something to be investigated. Hitch kept scanning the desert in case they decided to check it out while Troy was still there.
He grinned as he saw Troy reach the patrol car and disappear beneath it. It wouldn't take long to locate the fuel line and free enough to fix the jeep. He had cautioned Troy not to bend the line but, just in case, he had told him to salvage a longer piece than they actually needed. As long as the sergeant returned with anything close to what he had requested they would have more than enough to do the job.
Closing his eyes against the bright glare of the sun, Hitch let his head fall onto his folded arms. All he needed was a moment to rest, no sleep, just a chance to close his eyes, a brief respite from the brightness that made his head hurt. His leg was throbbing in time with his heartbeat. He looked at the bandage but it was still mostly white. Troy had done a good job of controlling the bleeding. Hitch couldn't believe that he had passed out and stayed unconscious long enough for Troy to clean and bandage the wound. He had told Troy that he thought the wound was a minor one, and he had thought so at the time. He gritted his teeth as he was reminded once again that his first impression had been wrong. Of course, the blood loss was most likely the reason he was feeling so weak.
Scanning the desert again, he still saw nothing. By using the glasses he could just make out the sergeant's legs sticking out from under the patrol car. It looked like Troy was getting the job done.
With a sigh he admitted to himself that the sergeant had been right to go alone. There was no way that he would have been able to walk that far, even with the sergeant's help. If they had run into trouble he knew he would have been a liability to the other man.
Suddenly he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Putting the glasses to his eyes he searched the desert again. There was still no sign of anyone but Troy. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Rolling on his back, Hitch searched the desert behind him. He quickly shaded the glasses so that they wouldn't reflect the sun as he caught a brief glimpse of movement. Gripping his machine gun he low crawled behind some low brush to hide. Staying perfectly still, he watched as three Arabs rode boldly up to the jeep. Two of them dismounted and walked around the disabled jeep, searching it with their eyes.
The third pointed toward the smoke and spoke passionately to the others. One of them gave him a dismissive gesture and turned his attention back to the jeep. The mounted man answered, sounding rather angry, before turning his horse and riding away. He circled the hill where Hitch waited and headed directly toward the burning halftracks. Hitch wanted to warn Troy but to do so would have required him to leave his concealment and expose himself to the two remaining Arabs. Torn, he fidgeted anxiously as he watched the men below.
He had about decided to try to warn Troy when the decision was made for him. One of the two Arabs by the jeep noticed the footprints leading up the hill. He pointed the tracks out to his companion and an argument ensued. Hitch gripped his weapon tighter while listening for any sounds from Troy. The Arabs seemed to be at odds about investigating the tracks. Hitch cautiously pushed sand to the sides, trying to dig a hole to give him cover. He had the advantage of the high ground but the Arabs had the advantage of numbers and agility. His leg hurt just thinking about moving around. Hitch waited motionless as the Arabs argued, his grip getting sweaty on his weapon. The tension soon had sweat dripping into his eyes again. When he shifted his weight to get into a better position he had to bite back a groan at the pain shooting up his leg.
The Arabs, having come to an agreement, began to move toward the hill Confident of his cover, Hitch watched them approach. They separated as they came around the jeep, each one holding an ancient rifle in his hands. Not knowing where the third Arab was, Hitch hesitated to shoot and draw attention to himself. Even though he had only seen three riders, he knew there could be more close by. Biting his lip, he waited until he was forced to make a decision.
The delay worked for him as the Arabs left the protection of the jeep and continued up the hill where they had no cover. Holding the high ground and with the element of surprise on his side, he thought he had a chance. It would have been enough if not for the wound and his weakened condition. Taking them into consideration evened the odds a bit. The longer he waited the closer the danger, giving him less time to react. Hitch closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and made his move. Without rising from his hiding place, Hitch aimed at the Arabs. He knew he wouldn't be able to duck very well if they returned fire. Poking the muzzle of his weapon through the brush, Hitch made a slight sound. The Arabs, already nervous, reacted quickly. As Hitch pulled the trigger the two Arabs separated, each diving to the ground and rolling to avoid the bullets. The bullets flew over their heads, giving them pause but doing no damage.
One of them returned fire, pinning Hitch in place while his companion rolled to the side seeking a better angle. The return fire ripped through the brush just inches from the blonde's head. He slid backwards, hitting his injured leg on a small rock. It might as well have been a boulder as dizziness swept over him.
The Arab in front of him stopped to reload as the second one opened fire. Hitch waited, knowing that the first one would try to advance. He knew they would try to catch him in a crossfire where he had nowhere to hide. Just as he expected, the Arab jumped to his feet to make a dash around the side of the hill. Hitch shot him before he could dive to the ground again. When he did hit the ground, he hit it hard, and stayed there.
The second Arab jumped to his feet and ran toward Hitch. If he had been carrying a machine gun the blond would have died then and there. As it was, his aim was off, hitting the ground just short of the wounded American.
Hitch returned fire, knocking the Arab back down the hill. The Arab's last shot hit the ground in front of his face, throwing sand in his eyes. He blinked his eyes, trying to clear them in case the Arabs had friends nearby. With the third Arab's location still unknown he needed to be able to see. The sound of rapidly approaching hoof beats didn't do anything to ease the stress.
The tears were flowing freely but there was still grit in his eyes. He wanted to wipe them but he knew doing so might scratch his eyes and cause further damage. The hoof beats had stopped but that fact was not in the least reassuring. He could sense the presence of another soul on the hill. Keeping still, he did his best to clear his eyes before the new threat could locate him.
The sound of sand shifting alerted him to movement as someone ran up the hill behind him. Shifting as quietly as possible, he turned to face the new threat. His leg protested the new position and he wasn't sure that he could stay conscious long enough to deal with this new danger. His blurry vision made it nearly impossible to locate the new arrival. He gripped his weapon tightly, determined to go down fighting. Briefly he thought of Troy and hoped that he had been able to defend himself against the Arab that had ridden his way.