The Prisoner's Gold (The Hunters 3) (32 page)

The driver of the first vehicle had his head sticking out of a hatch in the cockpit, but he quickly dropped down when he saw Cobb level the machine gun. But Cobb wasn’t trying to hit him. He aimed the weapon lower and blasted at the front tires of the first AFV.

Cobb waited just a tick as McNutt swerved violently across the concrete and onto the lawn on the right. They were heading for another tree, but Cobb knew the vehicle would swerve again in a second. Just as they hit the grass, the pursuing AFV fired its cannon again with a thunderous report that rattled Cobb’s bones in his body like a subwoofer at a rock concert.

The shell passed harmlessly by as their AFV jerked again.

The move had put Cobb in the perfect position to target the front two wheels on the right side of the lead AFV. He opened fire with the heavy gun, the
chug-chug-chug
of the weapon rattling his body further. Cobb knew that AFVs were always equipped with eight run-flat tires, and most of them could actually lose multiple wheels and still roll on.

Unless, of course, the correct few were disabled.

The steady stream of 7.62 mm rounds shredded the first two tires on the right side with ease. The rubber split horizontally across the wheel and flipped off, like a blowout on a semi-truck on the interstate. With both tires blown, the front right corner of the vehicle tipped down to the ground, striking sparks off the concrete and wrenching the vehicle sideways.

As soon as the left side came into full view, helped by another of McNutt’s wild turns, Cobb laid into the damaged vehicle’s other front wheels. He destroyed the first tire under a volley of heavy fire, but he ran out of ammunition before he could get the second one. It didn’t matter, though. The nose of the lead AFV mashed into the concrete walkway and the armor dug in deeply before the driver had the good sense to take his foot off the accelerator.

No way it could catch them now.

Cobb dropped down the hatch just before the second AFV swerved around the immobilized carcass of the first, their machine gunner spraying fire back. The volley of rounds hit the open hatch lid, denting it and clanging it shut just above his head.

Cobb breathed a sigh of relief after that one.

He had planned to come down for more ammunition, but the gunner above had changed his mind. As he made his way toward the cockpit, his ears were still ringing from the noise of the machine gun, but he clearly heard an argument as he neared the front of the vehicle.

‘Trust me!’ McNutt screamed.

Garcia shouted in their ears. ‘That’s not the bridge you want! The one you want is another mile west! That one takes you to an island in the middle of the river. You’ll be trapped.’

McNutt pulled hard on the steering, sending the AFV onto the road that Garcia had warned him not to take. ‘Just trust me, Rodrigo.’

Cobb looked to Sarah for an explanation.

She merely shrugged and grimaced.

Cobb noticed that Maggie was holding the back of Sarah’s chair in a death grip, her knuckles turning white from the effort. He smiled at her and told her to relax before he turned his attention to McNutt.

‘What are we doing, Josh?’ Cobb asked.

‘We won’t make it to the next bridge,’ McNutt said, jerking the vehicle unexpectedly to the left, and then quickly back to the right. ‘Those guys are too close, and the road is too straight. One hit from that cannon, and we’ll be cooked in here like scrambled eggs.’

The AFV was jolted hard from the rear, throwing everyone forward. Cobb realized the pursuing vehicle must have rammed them.

‘Hang on,’ McNutt said as he leaned into the steering wheel.

Cobb glanced ahead and saw they had only two hundred more feet of asphalt before they would hit a decorative fountain. There didn’t seem to be any road after that.

‘What’s the plan?’ Cobb demanded.

‘Yeah,’ Sarah said. ‘We’d all love to know.’

McNutt grinned. ‘I want to see if those teenagers in the RV fully understand the capabilities of their vehicle. I’m guessing they don’t.’

‘Guessing?’ Sarah shouted as they neared the fountain. ‘You’re guessing?’

‘What are you—’ Cobb began as the Marine sped up more.

The AFV smashed through a wooden bench before hitting the fountain in a spray of water and rubble. A geyser erupted in the wreckage behind them as the AFV continued forward, barreling down a steep slope that led to the surging rapids ahead.

Sarah and Maggie screamed, but McNutt didn’t stop.

He merely laughed as he drove straight into the river.

The nose of the AFV dipped and lurched suddenly, then the raging current of the spring thaw began to whisk the vehicle sideways in a slow, twisting motion.

‘These things are amphibious,’ McNutt said, grinning. ‘They can only do about four knots, but it’s enough to make do.’

‘Won’t they follow us?’ Sarah asked. ‘Their vehicle floats, too.’

‘I doubt they ever field-tested it in water. Kids that young won’t have the balls to try it. They’ll be too scared to sink a million-dollar piece of machinery.’

Cobb moved back to the turret and cautiously peeked out. The island was already far behind, and he could see the AFV that had followed them to the river’s edge was tilted at a strange angle with its nose in the air and its belly resting on the pile of rubble. Water from the smashed fountain shot in all directions. The soldiers might try to follow in the river once they got their vehicle unstuck, but his team was quickly widening the margin.

Cobb slipped back into the cockpit, where McNutt had corrected the lazy spin and was powering through the river, slow and steady, moving for the far shore. He mashed the nose into a wide sandy bank and ground the accelerator down until the front wheels chewed through the muck, dragging the AFV ashore inch by inch.

‘How are we on fuel?’ Cobb asked.

‘We got plenty,’ McNutt said, just as the wheels bit into solid rock and the AFV bolted forward, clunking up and down over the uneven ground.

‘Great,’ Sarah said. ‘Now if we can just get some distance.’

‘At this rate,’ Garcia said in their ears, ‘you’re thirty minutes from the rendezvous point. The bad news is the army is, too. Do you think you can speed things up?’

‘Ask me again in fifteen. Too many variables,’ Cobb said.

‘Just so you know,’ Garcia added, ‘they’ve scrambled a couple of MiGs out of Chengdu. Thankfully, it’ll take them an hour to get to Lhasa. Probably nothing to worry about.’

‘Keep us updated,’ Cobb said.

The AFV could do sixty miles an hour in perfect conditions, but even a luxury SUV with brand-new shocks would have found that speed impossible on the rutted roads. McNutt pushed it as fast as he could without fear of shaking them all to death. When the road swept away from the direction he wanted, he drove off it, keeping a straight path for the point two miles further west where the main road turned due south to follow the river and head down to the airport. The roads in the region went where the mountains and the river allowed them, but with an amphibious assault vehicle the Marine was happy to just plow straight through, following the edge of the foothills on his left.

Five minutes later they were on the road heading south, and McNutt kicked the AFV to its top speed on the much smoother highway. No one spoke about the turmoil in Lhasa. They all understood the time for reflection would come later. The tension of whether they would make it to the rendezvous before the army had consumed them all.

Arriving first was the only thing that mattered.

If they didn’t, they were headed to a military prison.

Unless, of course, they were killed at the scene.

‘Hey chief,’ McNutt said, ‘I know you have a lot of stuff on your mind, but don’t you think you should go back there and talk to our friend?’

‘Let’s worry about them first,’ Cobb said, looking through the viewport. Far off in the distance, they could see a small line of trucks and cars at a standstill. Beyond them, they saw the glint of several white police cars blocking the road.

‘The local fuzz,’ McNutt said. ‘Nothing to worry about.’

Maggie spoke up. ‘They might have automatic weapons.’

‘Nothing that can hurt us,’ he replied.

As the AFV approached the stalled line of vehicles at the roadblock, McNutt swerved into the far-less-crowded oncoming lane and accelerated. Cobb could see six police officers in bluish-gray uniforms, all brandishing Chinese AK variant rifles.

Long before the AFV was in range, the police opened fire.

As the vehicle got closer, McNutt dropped the viewport shields again. They were blind now, but it didn’t matter. In a second they would plow through the front end of one of the two sedans blocking the road, turning it into crumpled metal. Cobb hoped the men would have the sense to dive out of the way, or they might be injured.

When the crash came, Cobb was surprised how little it affected the AFV. The trees and the fountain back in Lhasa had made more noise than the police car. Ten seconds later, McNutt raised the shields again, and they were completely through the roadblock.

McNutt couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Whoooeeee! I’m starting to like this thing. Do you think Papi can buy me one? I’ll park it next to his yacht.’

‘First things first,’ Sarah said. ‘He still needs to pick us up.’

Cobb ignored the chatter. He once again climbed the turret and peeked behind them. No one was following the rogue AFV. Unfortunately, he knew why. The cops would have been informed that the army was on the way – on a direct collision course with the fleeing vehicle. The local police had done their part, now they would sit back and let the army take over.

Before closing the hatch, Cobb noticed a broken branch caught on the hinge. He reasoned it must have been there since their trip through the park. Smiling, he pulled the branch free and brought it inside with him.

‘How long?’ Cobb shouted.

‘Ten minutes with no more speed bumps,’ McNutt said.

‘Hector, did you copy that?’

‘Loud and clear,’ Garcia replied. ‘ETA is ten minutes.’

Cobb turned to Maggie. ‘Come with me.’

They went into the back and found the bound prisoner. He looked miserable, and his leg was bleeding profusely. A puddle of his own blood had pooled beneath him on the floor of the vehicle. Any hope to flee had left the captive.

‘Translate for me, please,’ Cobb said.

Maggie nodded and waited.

‘Three questions is all. Who do you work for? What do you want with us? And what do you know about us? If you answer all three to my satisfaction, you’ll live. I’ll wrap your wound, and we’ll leave you on the side of the road in peace.’

Maggie translated everything in rapid Mandarin.

The man stared at Cobb the entire time, not flinching.

Cobb waited until she was done. ‘If you don’t answer my questions immediately, I’ll be forced to show you a technique that was taught to me by this maniac friend of mine. It’s called the Vietnam Stick Trick, and man, is it effective …’

Once again, Maggie translated everything.

‘Here’s how it works,’ Cobb said with unblinking eyes. ‘You take a stick, and you shove one end into a bullet hole, then you wiggle it around and around and around. The best part of all? It can’t be called torture because all I’m trying to do is find the bullet inside the wound. So I keep doing it over and over again. I’m told it hurts like hell.’

Maggie, to her credit, didn’t blanch. She translated everything.

As she did, Cobb pulled out his knife and started to sharpen one end of the branch that he had removed from above. With every swipe of his blade, the man’s face grew more and more pale. Sweat trickled down his forehead and into his eyes. He blinked at the drops, unable to wipe away the fluid with his hands secured behind his back.

Cobb looked at his watch, as the seconds ticked past. For the safety of his team, he needed to know who was trying to kill them. It was the only way they would survive this mission. He yelled toward the cockpit, ‘Do you have a lighter?’

McNutt fished in a pocket and tossed a stainless steel Zippo through the air.

Cobb caught it and admired the carved USMC insignia and the symbol of the US Embassy in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan. He turned back to the captive, noting the man’s panicked eyes following his every move before he flipped open the lighter with his free hand, then flicked the flint wheel to spark a flame.

The man’s face melted in confusion and terror.

He spoke rapidly to Maggie in a tone of sheer panic.

She translated for Cobb. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Did I forget to tell you?’ Cobb said as he held the fire under the branch, slowly moving the flame back and forth in full view of the prisoner. ‘I heat up the stick to kill all the germs before I shove it into your wound … The smell of burning flesh is fantastic.’

Cobb lowered the lighter and stepped closer.

The man began to scream before Cobb even touched him.

Despite her calm demeanor, Maggie was thrilled that Cobb didn’t touch the prisoner. He started screaming immediately, babbling answers to Cobb’s three questions over and over again until his frightened pleas slowly but surely devolved into a single word.

‘
Yihequan!
’ he cried repeatedly. ‘
Yihequan! Yihequan!
’

‘What does that mean?’ Cobb asked.

Maggie answered as the vehicle slowed to a stop. ‘He works for a criminal organization called
Yihequan –
the Brotherhood of Righteous and Harmonious Fists. They know we are after a treasure, but this man does not know which one.’

‘And what do the brothers want?’

‘They want the treasure, then they want us dead.’

‘Yeah,’ Cobb said. ‘I kind of sensed that last part.’

Maggie continued. ‘They were supposed to watch us and only confront us if we found the treasure. But the army showed up and spooked his colleagues. Once the shooting started, he had no choice but to fight back.’

‘Do they know our names?’

‘He doesn’t, but they took our pictures and sent them to Hong Kong.’

Cobb groaned. ‘That’s not good.’

‘What’s not good?’ McNutt asked as he left the cockpit. He had parked the AFV on the side of the road in anticipation of Papineau’s jet and had missed some of the conversation.