Killmaster 49 - Operation Che Guevara by Nick Carter

Author:Nick Carter [Carter, Nick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: det_espionage
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

9th

There was no sun in the morning, but the change in the temperature was enough to wake us. Luis had been right. Just over a small ridge, we came to the edge of a road running through a ravine. We hunched down in the brush alongside the road.

"The guerrillas will come from across the road," Olo said. "We have watched them, and they do the same thing each time."

"How long before the gondola comes?" I asked.

Olo chuckled softly. "Whenever the driver feels like driving and the bus feels like moving," he said.

I settled down for a possibly long wait, the poncho under me on the damp ground. We stayed silent because across the ravine road, we saw faint movement in the brush which meant the guerrilla forces had arrived. I was getting cramped and hours had passed when I heard the faint sound of a motor, chugging laboriously. Finally, the bus appeared, moving slowly through the ravine.

It was an ancient school bus on which a high rooftop rack had been built, now loaded with bags and suitcases and knapsacks. It drew abreast of us, had moved slowly on, when the guerrillas across the road struck. Two of them ran out in front of the bus, shooting past the driver, who immediately braked to a halt. The others — about six in all — had lined up with their rifles pointed at the terrified passengers.

The passengers were starting to emerge from the bus in single file, hands in the air. I looked at Olo and nodded. The guerrillas were standing alongside the bus, prodding the passengers with the rifles to get out. They were, for the good marksmen I had with me, easy targets. All we had to do was shoot carefully to avoid killing the passengers.

I raised my carbine, took aim and fired. The others shot almost as a man behind me. The guerrillas crumpled like toy soldiers knocked over by an angry child. We raced into the open. The passengers, now doubly terrified, stood stock still. When we herded them back into the bus, they were still not really sure of what exactly had happened before their startled eyes.

"El Garfio is nothing," I said to the driver while the others listened. "Go back to your villages and tell them you saw his men cut down. Tell them he will be hunted down by those who would end his thieving and murdering once and for all. Tell everyone it is certain death to join him."

We watched the gondola chug slowly away, then started back. In our brushes with the guerrilla forces we had been lucky so far, though it was the land of luck that comes with careful planning and expert fighters. It wouldn't always be that way, I knew, and I found myself wondering when we'd run into big trouble.

It was dark when we reached the tapera. Olo and the others who had been ill seemed ready to collapse. They had forced themselves beyond their physical capabilities and now exhaustion took over.

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