Private Rogue - Private Series 16 (2021) by Patterson James

Author:Patterson, James [Patterson, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 48

FLOYD WOKE SUDDENLY. He hadn’t been dreaming, he was too exhausted. He came round from a black void that felt like death, and immediately wished he could go back to that blessed oblivion. Every muscle ached and his eyes burned with fatigue. He felt feverish, as though there were hot coals somewhere deep inside him, but when he touched his skin his temperature seemed normal. He suspected he was starting to experience the combined effects of altitude sickness and exhaustion.

He could see bright sunshine through the tiny crawlspace that allowed access to the cave where he’d planned to spend the day. He saw a shadow cross the light, and the hairs on his neck bristled. His stomach filled with acid as he realized something must have woken him. Was it a creature of some kind? A branch blown by the wind? He held his breath and listened closely, but heard nothing except the breeze through the trees.

He rolled onto his stomach, grabbed the coat he’d been using as an extra blanket, and slid it over his shoulders. He crawled to the cave mouth, which was only a little broader than his shoulders and taller than the width of his torso. He’d found the tiny entrance at dawn, after having spent much of the early hours looking for a place to bed down. He was at the foot of the last mountain before the range that would take him to the border. One final push up and over the next set of peaks would take him into the adjacent valley, on to a pass that led to the border with Pakistan.

To ears that had become attuned to silence, the scratching of loose rock sounded like the applause of a crowd of thousands. Floyd tried to move more quietly, but it was hard to do when crawling. He approached the end of the tunnel and used his forearms to inch forward and pull himself to the lip. He poked his head out and saw nothing but snow and the trunks of cedar trees. He hauled himself out carefully and slowly.

“Don’t move,” a voice said in a thick Russian accent.

Floyd glanced round to see a man in blue, gray and white snow camouflage and a gray ski mask standing on a rocky outcrop above the cave mouth. He had a Vityaz-SN submachine gun aimed at Floyd’s chest.

“Get on the ground,” the gunman ordered, before saying something in Russian into a handheld radio.

Floyd knew other men would soon join them, and his odds would diminish with every new arrival. He also knew that if they wanted him dead, he would have been shot already. He was alive for a reason, and he was determined to play that to maximum advantage.

The gunman jumped off the rocks and landed in the snow a few feet away from Floyd.

“I said get on the ground!”

Floyd rushed him, aiming his shoulder at the man’s midriff. People with guns are accustomed to being obeyed, and Floyd knew he would have the element of surprise.

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