The Uvalde Raider: A Templar Family Novel: Book One by Ben H. English

Author:Ben H. English [English, Ben H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Creative Texts Publishers, LLC
Published: 2021-04-15T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Micah Templar watched Mustafa through almost closed eyes. Yahla al-Qassam had repeatedly referred to the big Lebanese as his best man, and that his second in command did not need a gun to kill someone. However, the terrorist had one now, a blued Smith & Wesson Model 59 9mm shoved down inside the front of his pants. There appeared to be no extra magazines for it, or evidence of other weapons seen on Mustafa’s person.

The former Marine sized the terrorist up and tried to recall anything else he might have heard or noticed about Mustafa over the past few hours. From what Qassam had said, the long-haired Hezbollah member was some sort of martial arts fighter and he certainly looked the part. With a broad, hawkish nose that had obviously been broken before, Micah had noted he was appreciably taller than the other Arabs, even more so than himself and with a fine, muscular build.

Everything about the man, from the way he carried himself to the smoldering disdain displayed for his prisoners, exuded an entrenched confidence that pointed to much more than misplaced arrogance.

There was something else also, a special kind of essential cruelty that oozed out of every pore of Mustafa’s body. When he looked at Micah, the terrorist’s eyes smoldered with a hate that went beyond what any semi-sane person could convey. Micah had seen that kind of look before, but never in such heaping portions of undisguised intensity and singleness in purpose. From his experiences as a peace officer as well as a combat veteran, he knew all too well what kind of person their lives were presently balanced upon.

Outside a thin ray of sunshine began peeking through the window facing the airstrip, and one of the Wright Cyclones on The Uvalde Raider began to turn over. The engine rotated slowly, coughing once or twice, and then roared to mechanical life. Looking out of the corner of his eye, Micah saw that neither Max nor Tio Zeke stirred at the sound. Either they were so tired from the drawn out night they had actually dozed off, or they were lost in their own thoughts of how to stop this madness in the critically short time remaining. Whichever it was, Micah’s very being strained ferociously to make the most of those same disappearing minutes.

Lured by the crescendo of throbbing radial engines starting up one by one, Mustafa moved to the large picture window in an attempt to see what was occurring outside. He tried several positions from different angles but none were evidently to his satisfaction. Plainly aggravated, he turned away and for a long moment suspiciously eyed his three prisoners. Micah stilled everything in his body except for his slow, steady breathing as if asleep.

Finally, much like the proverbial cat overcome by his own curiosity, the terrorist turned again and made his way to the door. He placed his hand on the knob, took one more look over his shoulder at the three restrained men, and stepped outside on the porch to watch the old bomber warming up.

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