The Atlantis Ascent by S. A. Beck

Author:S. A. Beck [Beck, S. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B07F69G5ZD
Publisher: Beck Books
Published: 2018-07-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

AUGUST 28, THE SAHARA DESERT ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF NOUAKCHOTT, MAURITANIA

5:30 A.M.

* * *

The sun was just rising over the desert, turning the sands to gold when General Corbin made his move. They had driven all night, Vice President Salek sitting in the passenger’s set and covering him with a pistol, giving him directions to the capital Nouakchott some 250 miles away. Corbin was surprised they didn’t go to the town of Tidjikja, which was so much closer, but maybe there weren’t enough troops there to help him. Or maybe he didn’t trust them since their neighbors at the prison camp had just turned on the government. Or maybe Salek just wanted to get as far away from the Tuaregs as possible.

Corbin allowed himself to remain a prisoner. Salek was easier to handle if he thought he was in charge and besides, the guy knew the way and Corbin didn’t. But as the sun came up in the east and they got onto a well-driven desert track and the smoke fires from the outlying areas of Nouakchott appeared on the horizon, Corbin slammed on the brakes. Salek lurched forward, hitting the dashboard. Corbin grabbed the politician’s gun while he was still stunned and turned it on him.

“This is where you get out, Mr. Vice President.”

Salek looked around at the bleak desert. There wasn’t a vehicle in sight. Corbin handed him a canteen.

“We passed a village about ten miles back. You can make it. Get out.”

Salek reluctantly stepped out of the Jeep, his expensive leather shoes crunching on the sand.

“You leave me in the middle of the desert?”

Corbin smiled. “You’ll make it. You’re a survivor. You’ll get some killer blisters walking all that way in those fancy shoes, though.”

Corbin stepped on the gas and left the corrupt politician in the dust.

After he had stopped laughing, Corbin considered his options, and his resources. This Jeep looked in good repair and he had spare Jerry cans of fuel in the back. He could drive all day and well into the night. The problem was that the Jeep had military markings, and seeing a white man in an American uniform driving it would raise uncomfortable questions wherever he went. Besides the suspicious Jeep, he had a 9 mm automatic pistol with eight rounds of ammunition, a box of flares, and enough water for a day. He was safe for the moment. Some food would be nice. He had plenty of local currency in his pocket and some American dollars as well, but he didn’t want to go into any towns with this Jeep. Every settlement of any decent size had troops in it.

So where should he go? He needed to avoid towns as much as possible and get back into contact with Isadore and the McKay twins, but they were all the way down in Mali and he no longer had his satellite phone. Even worse, if he didn’t check in with the Pentagon pretty soon, they’re going to wonder if he had disappeared.

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