coverage of the area. The rest of his men were taking up defensive positions behind the interstate’s concrete barriers and the armored doors of the HMMWVs.
Within seconds, Jeb hurried back across the overpass, carrying another of the improvised caltrops.
“We got trouble,” he said, tossing the twisted nail to Nakai.
“Yes,” he answered, standing back up. “The question is what kind?”
“If this is the same man who’s following us, he’s a soldier, someone trained in improvised weapons.”
“So it seems.”
“The nails won’t hurt the HMMWVs’ honeycomb tires, but the trucks can’t cross until we clear this bridge.”
Nakai took a moment to consider their predicament. The lead tractor-trailer would be a pain to move now that it had collided with the side of the Greyhound. Crumpled metal had a way of grabbing hold of everything it came into contact with.
“Transfer the cargo to the other trucks. Then get this one pulled out of the way,” he said. “Once that’s done, sweep the overpass. And let’s be quick about it.”
“It’ll be dark by the time we finish.”
Nakai nodded. He didn’t like being caught in the open at night, but he didn’t see a way out of it. Whoever had set the trap had done so with careful deliberation. His goal had been to slow them down, and that was exactly what he had accomplished.
“Have the men set up a perimeter on this side of the overpass. It looks like we’re going to be here for the night.”
“Roger that,” Jeb said, turning to leave.
“One more thing.”
Jeb looked back over his shoulder.
“Sweep the tree line on each side of the road. A quarter-mile each way.”
“You think he’s close?”
Nakai squinted, scanning the trees.
“I do.”
CHAPTER
7
Tanner darted through the trees, his body stinging from a dozen small burns from where the cattle prod had touched him. When he was about a hundred feet in, he cut left and sprinted up a steep slope, heading in Samantha’s direction. About halfway up, he nearly barreled into her as she came stumbling down the hill, rifle in hand.
“Come on!” he said, turning to his right and running deeper into the forest.
They ran for nearly ten straight minutes, weaving through the thick maze of trees and brush. When they finally stopped, both were panting heavily.
“Rest,” he said, gasping for breath. He turned to face the way they had come, bracing himself against the trunk of an oak tree.
Samantha dropped to her knees and then toppled back onto the seat of her pants, landing in a thick pile of leaves.
“Anyone... following... us?” she gasped, struggling to catch her breath.
Tanner could no longer hear the motorcycles, nor could he see anyone coming through the trees.
“I think we’re clear.”
“Good.” She stretched out her legs and laid the rifle across them.
Tanner waited several more minutes before allowing himself to relax. When he was finally certain that they had made a clean getaway, he moved over and flopped down next to her.
“Thanks,” he said.
“For what?”
“For what you did back there. You saved my life.”
She looked down at the rifle.
“Do you think I killed them?”
“I sure as hell hope so.”
“I don’t think my mom would want me shooting people.”
He shrugged. “Most mothers want their kids to do whatever it takes to stay alive. Is yours different?”
She shook her head.
“I want to tell you something,” he said.
She let her eyes slowly drift his direction.
“What?”
“I’m not one to blow sunshine up your skirt. You know that, right?”
She squinted at him. “I have no idea what you just said.”
He smiled. “I’m saying I don’t give out meaningless praise.”
“So?”
“So, you should believe me when I say that you’re something special.”
“What do you mean?”
“Scared as you were, you fired four shots at moving targets probably a hundred yards away. And from what I saw, you didn’t miss a single one. That’s
Within seconds, Jeb hurried back across the overpass, carrying another of the improvised caltrops.
“We got trouble,” he said, tossing the twisted nail to Nakai.
“Yes,” he answered, standing back up. “The question is what kind?”
“If this is the same man who’s following us, he’s a soldier, someone trained in improvised weapons.”
“So it seems.”
“The nails won’t hurt the HMMWVs’ honeycomb tires, but the trucks can’t cross until we clear this bridge.”
Nakai took a moment to consider their predicament. The lead tractor-trailer would be a pain to move now that it had collided with the side of the Greyhound. Crumpled metal had a way of grabbing hold of everything it came into contact with.
“Transfer the cargo to the other trucks. Then get this one pulled out of the way,” he said. “Once that’s done, sweep the overpass. And let’s be quick about it.”
“It’ll be dark by the time we finish.”
Nakai nodded. He didn’t like being caught in the open at night, but he didn’t see a way out of it. Whoever had set the trap had done so with careful deliberation. His goal had been to slow them down, and that was exactly what he had accomplished.
“Have the men set up a perimeter on this side of the overpass. It looks like we’re going to be here for the night.”
“Roger that,” Jeb said, turning to leave.
“One more thing.”
Jeb looked back over his shoulder.
“Sweep the tree line on each side of the road. A quarter-mile each way.”
“You think he’s close?”
Nakai squinted, scanning the trees.
“I do.”
CHAPTER
7
Tanner darted through the trees, his body stinging from a dozen small burns from where the cattle prod had touched him. When he was about a hundred feet in, he cut left and sprinted up a steep slope, heading in Samantha’s direction. About halfway up, he nearly barreled into her as she came stumbling down the hill, rifle in hand.
“Come on!” he said, turning to his right and running deeper into the forest.
They ran for nearly ten straight minutes, weaving through the thick maze of trees and brush. When they finally stopped, both were panting heavily.
“Rest,” he said, gasping for breath. He turned to face the way they had come, bracing himself against the trunk of an oak tree.
Samantha dropped to her knees and then toppled back onto the seat of her pants, landing in a thick pile of leaves.
“Anyone... following... us?” she gasped, struggling to catch her breath.
Tanner could no longer hear the motorcycles, nor could he see anyone coming through the trees.
“I think we’re clear.”
“Good.” She stretched out her legs and laid the rifle across them.
Tanner waited several more minutes before allowing himself to relax. When he was finally certain that they had made a clean getaway, he moved over and flopped down next to her.
“Thanks,” he said.
“For what?”
“For what you did back there. You saved my life.”
She looked down at the rifle.
“Do you think I killed them?”
“I sure as hell hope so.”
“I don’t think my mom would want me shooting people.”
He shrugged. “Most mothers want their kids to do whatever it takes to stay alive. Is yours different?”
She shook her head.
“I want to tell you something,” he said.
She let her eyes slowly drift his direction.
“What?”
“I’m not one to blow sunshine up your skirt. You know that, right?”
She squinted at him. “I have no idea what you just said.”
He smiled. “I’m saying I don’t give out meaningless praise.”
“So?”
“So, you should believe me when I say that you’re something special.”
“What do you mean?”
“Scared as you were, you fired four shots at moving targets probably a hundred yards away. And from what I saw, you didn’t miss a single one. That’s
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