Catalyst (Breakthrough Book 3) (36 page)

83

What Qin didn’t know as he pointed the gun at Clay was that the American was
waiting
.  For the right moment.  Because when Clay finally moved, it came as a complete surprise.

In one motion, Clay slapped the gun from Qin’s hand and suddenly leaped forward on his broken leg.  In a blur, his arm rocketed up, gripped the man’s throat like a vice and squeezed.

Qin’s gun rattled across the concrete floor and his eyes bulged in shock, still trying to comprehend what had happened.  But not before he got out the beginning of a scream.

It was a sound that Qin’s men heard from the other side of the door.

An already sinking Clay watched them emerge while the last of his energy began to fade.  With clenched teeth, he squeezed harder, giving every last ounce of strength he had left.  He ignored the soldier sprinting toward him with the butt of his gun raised.  Instead, he tried to tighten one last time before his arm was knocked away and he fell back to the floor.

Qin stumbled back, gasping for air.  His frantic eyes searched the floor.  When he couldn’t find his gun, he pointed at Clay and wheezed.

“Shoot him!”

Several feet away, the squad’s leader frowned, and kept his eyes fixed on Clay.  “We should keep him alive.”

“I said
shoot
him!”

“That doesn’t seem wise,” retorted the soldier, defiantly.

At that moment a sharp tone sounded.  All eyes turned to the squad leader who ripped open a secret pocket, pulling out a small electronic pager.

He stared at the code on the tiny screen in stunned disbelief.  He read it again carefully before raising his eyes back to Qin.

“What the hell is that?”

The man stared down at Clay for a long moment.  Without a word, he raised his gun and pointed it.  Not at Clay, or even Qin, but at his own men.  He then made a motion with his head.  “Guns down.”

All six men stared at him in confusion.

“I said guns down!”

They blinked at him, still stunned.  But one by one each man dropped his rifle loudly onto the floor.

Qin was just as confused.  “What are you doing?”

The squad leader reached out, grabbing Qin by the collar.  He threw him, stumbling, into his own men.

“Now back up!”

They each took several steps backward.

It was then that the leader moved closer to Clay, with his barrel still trained on the others.  When he spoke, it was in perfect English.

“You, my friend, are one lucky son of a bitch.”

They were the last words Clay heard before the blackness took him.

84

Far over the Pacific, the drogue basket detached from the second plane. Aboard the giant Chinese bomber, the Hose Drum Unit began the slow process of reeling it back in.

The Xian H-6U was a modified version of China’s powerful H-6 bomber.  The plane was first detected by U.S. spy satellites in 1971, forcing China to reveal that they had already built three dozen of the aircraft, and stunning the world. 

Almost fifty years later, several of the aged bombers had been converted from flying fortresses to flying tankers.

Once the drogue basket had fully detached, the much larger and now fully fueled Y-20 cargo plane began its fateful climb. 

After several thousand feet, the monstrous Y-20 adjusted its flight path and headed for Venezuelan airspace — the only country left standing between the aircraft and its final target.

85

Caesare finally reached Anderson and knelt down beside his body –– positioned lifelessly on his side with one hand still clutching his rifle.  He’d fought right to the end, judging from the numerous bodies of Brazilian soldiers littering the area.  Caesare checked his pulse, and finding nothing, gently rolled him back over.  He peered up at Corso as Tiewater approached behind them.

“They’ve got Juan.”

Caesare sighed heavily.  They could still hear occasional shouts in the distance.  The fight hadn’t lasted long as the Brazilians were clearly not expecting a SEAL team on the other side.  But it wasn’t enough to reach Anderson or Juan in time.

“Now what?”

Caesare stood.  He took a deep breath and listened to the sounds of Otero’s men fortifying their positions.  His answer felt unnatural.  “We do our job and leave.”

Corso frowned in the darkness.  “You’re joking, right?”

“No.  As bad as we want to, our mission is not to take these bastards out.  Our mission is still to find that monkey and get the hell out of here.”

Tiewater’s voice was low and angry.  “I say we take them out and then go.”

“We can’t risk it.  Things could go sideways, fast.  It’s going to be hard enough finding Juan.”

“I’ll get him,” Corso said.

Caesare nodded.  “I’ll go with you.”

“Negative.  You’ll just slow me down.”

Caesare smirked.  “I’m not
that
old.”

“No offense, sir.  But I can get in faster alone.”

Tiewater nodded.  “He’s right.  Besides, someone needs to locate DeeAnn and Dulce.  Which is probably you.”

Caesare didn’t like the way this argument was going.  But he couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him.  “Fine.”  He nodded at Tiewater.  “Corso gets Juan, you find some transportation, and I’ll find the others.”

“My pleasure.”

“With any luck you might be able to give Corso here a nice diversion.”

“But wait for my go,” Corso said.  “Until I find out what condition Juan is in.  We might need a ride.”

Tiewater smiled.

“When you find something,” Caesare said, “head north, down that way.  We’re taking the other road out of here.”

Captain Salazar was livid.  He ended another tirade, directed at his lieutenant, and clenched his fists in frustration.

Thirty percent.  THIRTY PERCENT! 
He’d just lost thirty percent of his men in less than an hour!  What in God’s name happened?

Sosa tried to explain, but it was too late.  Salazar wasn’t interested in excuses.  He wanted answers.  Like how such a large force made it up here before they did?  He was expecting a few men.  But clearly there were more out there.  And to make matters worse, his men evidently didn’t see a damn thing!

Salazar put his hands on his hips, thinking.  “Where’s Becca?”

“We don’t know.  We lost track of her and her detail.”

“Jesus,” Salazar muttered, rolling his eyes.  “Did your men do anything right?”

Sosa’s reply was indignant.  “We killed one of them.”

“Dozens of men lost for only one of theirs.  Doesn’t exactly make me feel better.  Another fight like that and it’ll be over.”  He shook his head and dismissed Sosa.  “Go get me some damn answers.”

Sosa nodded but didn’t bother replying.  Instead, he walked away and crossed through several lines of men until he reached the base of a large tree.  Sitting on the ground, tied to the trunk, was the dark outline of Juan Diaz.

Sosa took a flashlight from one of his men and approached, shining the beam into the young man’s face.

Juan squinted and turned away as Sosa stopped and stared down at him.

“Who are you?”

“M-my name is Juan.  Juan Diaz.”

“Why are you here?”

Juan resisted, saying nothing.  Until he watched Sosa withdraw a handgun and lay it across his knee.

“I-I was asked to come.  I’m an engineer.”

“An engineer, out here?  Why?” Sosa asked.  His accent was strong, leaving Juan struggling to understand.

“To fix the computer.”

Sosa frowned. 
What computer would be out here?
  Either the kid was lying or the enemy had equipment he wasn’t familiar with.

“Who brought you here?”

Juan hesitated again, long enough to hear the slide action on someone’s gun.

“I came with a group…of SEALs.”

“SEALs?”  Sosa’s voice changed.  “How many?”

“Two dozen,” Juan lied.

Sosa bolted to his feet.  As he turned to leave, Sosa’s eyes met with Otero’s man, Russo, now standing behind him.  If Sosa was nervous at the sound of Navy SEALs, Russo looked as though his heart just stopped. 

He had been right all along.

Juan sat on the soft ground, frightened and watching the dark figures of Otero’s soldiers moving back and forth.  They were talking excitedly in Portuguese, and judging from all the gunfire, it didn’t appear as if things were going very well for them.  Which gave him at least some trace of satisfaction.

He’d been on the ground for almost an hour and kept trying to change his position to keep the circulation from being cut off, but the tingling in his feet returned.  He was losing feeling.

The headlights of another military truck appeared, easing to a stop at the end of the line where several soldiers were waiting.  They quickly jumped in and began unloading a number of large crates, followed by an even larger piece of equipment.  It was lowered carefully to the ground, and the thick canvas cover was removed to reveal a powerful-looking piece of artillery.  Juan watched helplessly as the men disappeared into the darkness with the giant weapon and its remaining pieces.

When the sound of the men faded, Juan suddenly heard a soft crunching sound behind him.  He twisted his neck in an attempt to see who, or what, was approaching.  There was nothing but a dense wall of bushes and trees covering most of the hill.  Then he noticed something move and peered harder into the darkness until he saw two small dots of white.  When they blinked, he froze.  They were eyes.  And they were watching him.

He gasped and turned back around in a panic.  In desperation, he dug his feet into the dirt and tried to move around the trunk of the tree.  But the ropes were too tight.

“Help!”

There was no response.  He had opened his mouth to yell again when a low voice stopped him.

“Shut up!” it growled.

Juan twisted back again and looked closer.  The eyes were still there, yet the more he focused, the more he could see the outline of a dark-colored face.  A face painted black.

It was Corso, hiding motionlessly in the bushes.  “What the hell are you doing?”

Juan looked back to make sure no one was coming, then whispered loudly to Corso.  “I thought you were a wild animal.”

“Well, I’m not,” Corso retorted.  “So shut up.”  He looked back and forth, examining the area.  “Can you walk?”

“I’m losing some feeling, but I think so.  What are you going to do?”

Corso shook his head.  “I have absolutely no idea.”

Several hundred yards away, Tiewater was watching from the front of the line.  Further back, he could see a large base being set up, with several soldiers running tripwire. 

They had to move quickly.  Once a solid perimeter was established, getting in and out would be much harder.

Tiewater watched several men run past the vehicles.  The truck in front was the most logical option.  It wasn’t as big, but it would be the easiest to drive out if he could get it started.  It was too new to hotwire which meant he needed to locate the keys.  Because unlike the movies, no one kept their keys stashed above the visor.

“Talk to me, Tiewater,” Corso’s voice whispered in his ear.

“I’m looking for keys.”  He watched a soldier approach and stop at the vehicle.  He opened the back and retrieved a large bag.  He hefted it over his shoulder and closed the door before marching back up the hill to the other side.  “Hold on.  I may have the driver.” 

Tiewater continued watching as the soldier reached the top and dropped the bag on the ground.  After briefly disappearing, the man reappeared and began heading back down toward the truck.

“How fast can you get Juan out?”

“Pretty damn fast.  But it has to happen now.”

“Okay.”  Tiewater looked back and forth before stepping out of the trees.  “I’m taking this guy.  Get ready.”

Corso slid a knife out and gripped it tight in his hand.  “I’m ready.”

“Ten seconds…”

When the soldier reached the Humvee, he opened the back again and leaned in.  Tiewater was already moving.  Running low and smooth from the trees, he covered the distance quickly, stopping at the driver’s door.  He could see the man searching for something beneath the tailgate’s overhead light. 

Tiewater raised his gun and began to move when he glanced through the side window.  Sitting inside, in the center console between the two front seats, were the keys.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Tiewater muttered to himself.

“What?”  Corso replied over the headset.

“Shh!”  Tiewater whispered.  He remained frozen at the door, waiting until the man behind the truck pulled something else out and reached up to close the gate.  Without looking up, he turned and continued back up the hill.

Tiewater quietly opened the driver’s door and reached for the keys.  He examined them and slid the larger key into the ignition.  With a slight turn, the dash lit up.  He immediately turned it back off.

“We got wheels!  GO!”

With that, he slid into the driver’s seat and laid his rifle across on the passenger’s side.  He pulled the door closed until it made a soft click.  He then kept the key in the ignition and slid down in his seat as low as he could.

No sooner had Tiewater given him the go than Corso rushed out of the brush and dropped behind Juan.  He worked quickly with the knife, cutting the lines, then peered out over Juan’s shoulder.  No one was watching.

“Let’s move!” 

He jumped up and yanked Juan onto his feet, pulling him back into the shadows.

“Stay on my heels!” was all Corso said before darting back the way he came.  Juan scrambled and ran after him.

They had made it less than fifty yards before they heard a yell behind them.  Neither of them knew what the words meant, but there was no doubt as to the message.

“Hurry!” Corso barked.

Juan ran harder, but in the darkness, he caught his foot on something hard and tumbled.  He scrambled to his feet only to be met by bright lights shining up the slope.  One of the lights found both him and Corso, followed by more yelling.  Then gunfire.

Tiewater lifted his head in the Humvee just enough to see outside.  At the top of the small hill, the driver and several other soldiers looked in the direction of the gunfire and ran toward it.

Tiewater placed one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the key.

“Can you make it?”

“I don’t know.”  From his position, Corso rose up and shot into the lights, dropping two of the men.  But there were too many.  Bullets passed overhead and he threw Juan down before firing another burst.

Back in the truck, Tiewater suddenly noticed movement in the side mirror of the Humvee.  Several men were running up the line of vehicles, toward the front.  He continued watching as one of them stopped and climbed into a large truck, two vehicles back.  The rest of the men continued running and passed the front vehicle before turning back around. 

Behind him, Tiewater heard the larger truck roar to life and saw its bright headlights shining out over the dirt road, illuminating the soldiers now waiting for it.  It backed up and began edging its way out of line.

“Okay, we may have a problem.”

From further down the mountain, Caesare’s voice broke in.  “What is it?”

“They’re moving their trucks.  We might be about to get blocked in.”

Caesare stopped running and listened.  “Corso, how close are you?”

Corso fired off several more rounds and pushed Juan forward, ahead of him.  “Not very.” 

Caesare shook his head in the darkness.  “Tiewater, we need those wheels.  Get out of there while you still can!”

Tiewater paused.  “Corso?”

“Go!” growled Corso.  “We’ll get there on foot.”

Tiewater shook his head.  Their situation was deteriorating quickly.  He sat straight up in the car and twisted the key hard in the ignition.  The soldiers, still standing several yards in front of him, were startled to see the Humvee’s lights come on.  They stepped forward, trying to peer through the front windshield.

In one motion, Tiewater dropped it into gear and mashed the accelerator down.