Cobra by David E. Meadows

Author:David E. Meadows
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Berkley Publishing Group
Published: 2002-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

The truck hit a large pothole, bouncing all of them off their haunches.

Duncan went a few inches in the air and landed hard on his butt. He heard Gibbons groan beside him. “You all right?” Duncan asked.

“I’m fine, Captain,” Gibbons replied in a high voice. “But, I think the strap between my legs may be a tad too tight.”

EIGHT

Duncan sipped lukewarm coffee as colonel Bulldog Stewart briefed the situation in Algiers and the latest developments. The Marine Corps colonel had been notified while Duncan and his group were escaping along the floodwater ditch that the USS Kearsarge Amphibious Task Force would not be relieving the Marines occupying Algiers. The newly arrived Task Force had been ordered to stand ready to make best speed for the Sea of Japan off the coast of the Koreas. Duncan leaned against a metal office desk as the colonel paced back and forth. Bulldog had his orders to evacuate Algiers in the next seven days. What the hell was going on, he wanted to know, and Duncan could only shake his head and agree. The world was falling around their heads. Here they were stuck with some fifty-odd missing American hostages, a major conflict — others would call it a war — in Korea, and not enough personnel, weapons, or ammunition to resolve both crises at once. All they could hope for was to rescue the hostages and leave the North African coast to its own solution. “Let the Europeans handle it” was a favorite theme for the American newspapers, college professors, and CNN. Of course, the European news media had their own perspective, broadcasting a never-ending cycle of rhetoric about the world’s only remaining superpower abandoning Europe just as radical Islamic terrorism had reached its borders.

Duncan put his cup down. “Sounds like a mess, Bulldog.”

“It is, and it’s our mess for the time being. We’re not going to get the French and the British to help us.”

“Thanks for giving us a couple of hours’ sleep and a chance to shower.”

“That was a narrow escape you had, Duncan. But we need what information this fat Bedouin has and hope we haven’t pulled you out here on a wild-goose chase.”

Duncan shook his head. “No, if Bashir says he knows where the hostages are, then he knows. I spent a week with the man in the desert last month when we rescued President Hawaii Al neuf. He smells, his clothes are dirty, and he has a laugh like fingers down a blackboard, but the one thing he does know is information. He found a doctor in the middle of the Sahara who saved the life of one of my officers. Bashir took a large, dilapidated truck, which we expected any time to give up the ghost, and avoided rebels who were searching Algeria for Alneuf. Without him, we would never have escaped. No, I trust him.” Duncan mentally crossed his fingers.

“Glad you do, Duncan. The man has been a pain in the ass. If it hadn’t been

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