Read Online Casca 16: Desert Mercenary by Barry Sadler - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Barry Sadler
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his job and is selective about who he works for. Won't just take anything for money. We were in the south together for a few months. He's steady and will be where you need him. I don't really think he cares much about whether he lives or dies. Some men, you know, are always ready for the last game, even anticipating it. He is one of those, but he won't do anything that jeopardizes the rest of the team."
Carl was glad to hear that. The last thing he needed was a hard headed former Nazi with something to prove. "The Spaniard?"
Sims shook his head in the negative. "Don't know a thing about him, love. But he seems a good sort. I only hope he's not one of those hot blooded Latins who always settles minor quarrels with knives." He shuddered at the thought.
Carl got up. "Good enough. We'll all get a chance to know each other a bit better before this job is over."
Back in the hangar Gus and Stachel were speaking in German, finding that they had only one thing in common and that was the Russian front. Calling Gus over to him Carl. said, "Take it easy on these boys, Gus. I don't want any broken bones. Like Monpelier said, it's too late to get any replacements."
Gus laughed. "Uncle Gus wouldn't harm the hair on a fly's head. You know that. Besides which, I like Herr Stachel, even if he was once a member of the officer class. May all their children have terminal hemorrhoids."
Carl just shook his head. There simply wasn't much that could be done with Gus. Going over to Sharif Mamud, he took his bag and removed the photos that Monpelier had given him from it. "Want to take a look at these?"
Sharif Mamud took the pictures and examined them closely. When he came to the one Monpelier had said he thought was the area where Sunni Ali had the captives held, Carl pointed it out to Mamud. "Know this place?"
Squinting his eyes, Mamud moved closer to the hangar door for a better look. "Yes. I have been there. It is a good place with water inside the caves and many tunnels to hide in. It is very old. Inside are pictures of many animals who have long since left the desert. They were drawn when the Sahara was covered with grass. Very, very old indeed."
Carl took the photo from him. It was one taken before the war. That didn't bother him. It wasn't likely that things had changed. He took his map out and he handed it over to Mamud. "Show me exactly where this cave is located."
Mamud spread the map on the floor of the hangar. Taking a moment to orient himself, he touched the map with a forefinger. "There, near the southern end. It is a place well suited for defense. If I were you I would consider the possibility of coming in from some place on the other side, as I told you earlier. It will take longer but you will have a better chance. Sunni Ali and the Tuaregs think there is no one but them who can survive in the desert or cross the mountains. It is a vanity of theirs which has, in the past, proved fatal more than once."
Carl nodded. "Let's hope this is one more time."
Parrish was talking to Monpelier, who nodded agreement and announced, "All right, gentlemen, let's get aboard. It's time to move out. Our captain said that the weather report indicates there is a strong head wind approaching which may slow us up a bit. If he's right, then we'll have to leave now in order to make it to the strip outside of Fort Laperrine by dawn."
As they climbed on board, Parrish told them to secure their personal effects in the rear of the plane and then sit down. There were only canvas seats of the military type, not very comfortable for a long haul. But after they were airborne, they'd be able to move about or even lie down in the aisle to sleep if they chose to.
The co-pilot opened the hangar doors all the way and climbed back in to take his place in the co-pilot's seat. The twin engine started smoothly with no hesitation. That always made one feel a bit better about flying. Parrish taxied out to the runway, checked the wind sock, faced into it, and took
Carl was glad to hear that. The last thing he needed was a hard headed former Nazi with something to prove. "The Spaniard?"
Sims shook his head in the negative. "Don't know a thing about him, love. But he seems a good sort. I only hope he's not one of those hot blooded Latins who always settles minor quarrels with knives." He shuddered at the thought.
Carl got up. "Good enough. We'll all get a chance to know each other a bit better before this job is over."
Back in the hangar Gus and Stachel were speaking in German, finding that they had only one thing in common and that was the Russian front. Calling Gus over to him Carl. said, "Take it easy on these boys, Gus. I don't want any broken bones. Like Monpelier said, it's too late to get any replacements."
Gus laughed. "Uncle Gus wouldn't harm the hair on a fly's head. You know that. Besides which, I like Herr Stachel, even if he was once a member of the officer class. May all their children have terminal hemorrhoids."
Carl just shook his head. There simply wasn't much that could be done with Gus. Going over to Sharif Mamud, he took his bag and removed the photos that Monpelier had given him from it. "Want to take a look at these?"
Sharif Mamud took the pictures and examined them closely. When he came to the one Monpelier had said he thought was the area where Sunni Ali had the captives held, Carl pointed it out to Mamud. "Know this place?"
Squinting his eyes, Mamud moved closer to the hangar door for a better look. "Yes. I have been there. It is a good place with water inside the caves and many tunnels to hide in. It is very old. Inside are pictures of many animals who have long since left the desert. They were drawn when the Sahara was covered with grass. Very, very old indeed."
Carl took the photo from him. It was one taken before the war. That didn't bother him. It wasn't likely that things had changed. He took his map out and he handed it over to Mamud. "Show me exactly where this cave is located."
Mamud spread the map on the floor of the hangar. Taking a moment to orient himself, he touched the map with a forefinger. "There, near the southern end. It is a place well suited for defense. If I were you I would consider the possibility of coming in from some place on the other side, as I told you earlier. It will take longer but you will have a better chance. Sunni Ali and the Tuaregs think there is no one but them who can survive in the desert or cross the mountains. It is a vanity of theirs which has, in the past, proved fatal more than once."
Carl nodded. "Let's hope this is one more time."
Parrish was talking to Monpelier, who nodded agreement and announced, "All right, gentlemen, let's get aboard. It's time to move out. Our captain said that the weather report indicates there is a strong head wind approaching which may slow us up a bit. If he's right, then we'll have to leave now in order to make it to the strip outside of Fort Laperrine by dawn."
As they climbed on board, Parrish told them to secure their personal effects in the rear of the plane and then sit down. There were only canvas seats of the military type, not very comfortable for a long haul. But after they were airborne, they'd be able to move about or even lie down in the aisle to sleep if they chose to.
The co-pilot opened the hangar doors all the way and climbed back in to take his place in the co-pilot's seat. The twin engine started smoothly with no hesitation. That always made one feel a bit better about flying. Parrish taxied out to the runway, checked the wind sock, faced into it, and took
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