The Enemy of My Enemy by Richard Bard

Author:Richard Bard
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Thrillers, Suspense, Fiction
ISBN: 9781468006001
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2012-02-20T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 43

Beneath the Sonoran Desert, Mexico

Tony watched stone-faced as the last of the flames in the limestone chimney flickered out. The waiting was the worst part. He huddled with the others, wondering what the men up above would do next.

His thoughts were answered by explosive retort of an assault rifle on full auto. High-velocity slugs hammered into the blackened rock beneath the vent, ricocheting around the cavern. Not very original, Tony thought grimly. But you’ve definitely got our attention.

“Infidel pigs!” a voice yelled down from above. “You killed my brother!”

Tony heard another man’s shout of alarm. It seemed to be directed away from them. The voice was quickly drowned out by long bursts from multiple automatic weapons. This time none of the rounds made their way down the vent.

“There’s a firefight up top!” he said.

Tony and Becker edged closer to the opening. There was a distant vibration, beyond the gunfire, growing in volume. Tony held his breath as he strained to make it out.

Becker recognized it a half-second ahead of him. “Yeah!” he shouted with a fist pump. A wide grin lit up his weathered face and he slapped his friend on the shoulder.

The distinctive throb of the V-22’s heavy props was unmistakable.

“’Bout time,” Tony said. A wave of relief washed over him. He pounded fist to palm. “Go get ’em, Cal.”

There were frantic shouts from above as magazines were replaced. A moment later the staccato cracks of gunfire were renewed in a frenzy of long bursts. Then a smooth zipping sound tore through the air and Tony knew that the V-22’s five-barrel Gatling gun had let loose. The ground shook above them from the impact of 25mm rounds puckering the earth at thirty-six hundred rounds per minute. The rain of lead would shred anything in its path.

Return fire from the ground ceased abruptly. No one could have survived.

“Good riddance,” Becker muttered.

“Damn straight,” Tony said.

The pitch of the props changed and Tony could imagine the bird’s twin nacelles shifting upward as the versatile plane switched from horizontal to vertical flight. Dust and debris washed across the opening of the vent.

The engines shut down.

Marshall, Bradley, and Josh joined Tony and Becker under the opening.

Rushing footsteps. Bits of gravel tumbled down the vent. A tiny head popped into view, framed by a cascade of long hair that drooped down.

“Josh!” Sarafina shouted from above. “Are you okay?”

Max’s joyful barks filled the cavern.

**

For Jake’s plan to succeed, he needed the narcos close.

He posed as if he’d been killed or knocked unconscious when the vehicle flipped. His cheek rested on the dirt road. His contorted body was half in and half out of the overturned jeep. The AK-47 rested in plain view on the road, well out of reach. Francesca was nowhere to be seen.

There was a faint rumble of an engine. Steadying his breathing, Jake focused on a point fifty yards ahead where the road disappeared over the ridgeline. The black SUV bounded onto the plateau. It skidded to a stop in a whirlwind of dust and flying pebbles.

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