farther. We just have to hold this shit show together for a few more minutes.”
He ignored McGraw as he passed, focusing instead on the police car that had appeared through the smoke and was overtaking him from behind. A moment later, though, Coleman’s chopper became visible and the former SEAL opened up on the vehicle from above. It skidded off the tarmac and began spinning through the dirt, coming to a stop and staying that way. Whether it was damaged or whether the driver had decided he’d had enough was impossible to tell. Either way, he was out of the game.
The traffic started getting heavier and buildings began springing up on both sides of the road. He slowed, matching the speed limit. Cross streets started to split off the main thoroughfare and the increasing density of buildings made it impossible to see if anyone was going to pull out.
“So far, no stop signs, but if we run into any, someone’s going to have to get control of the intersection so I can roll through. I can’t risk a cra—”
Rapp fell silent when a light bar came on fifty yards ahead. The border patrol vehicle turned sideways in the road, blocking it at a choke point between two buildings. Rapp didn’t even have time to give an order before McGraw swerved toward it. His brush guard connected hard with the cruiser’s front quarter panel, spinning it completely around and through the front window of a shop to the left.
Unfortunately, it had a similar effect on McGraw’s pickup. Rapp saw the air bags go off as the top-heavy vehicle teetered on two wheels before finally landing on its side. McGraw seemed unaffected, climbing out the open driver’s-side window and firing his assault rifle in the air. The locals scattered, clearing a path.
Rapp shifted gears and slammed the accelerator to the floor. “We’ve lost Bruno. Mas, come around me. It’s time to start breaking shit.”
“Copy that.”
Rapp had the semi up to almost fifty again when Maslick’s supercharged Jeep Grand Cherokee passed and took a position twenty yards in front. He lay on his horn, and when that wasn’t enough to clear the road, a nudge from his brush guard did the trick.
“I’ve got eyes on you!” came Gary Statham’s excited voice over the comm. “There’s a lot of activity on the Mexican side, but it’s still disorganized. Just keep coming my way and don’t—I repeat, do not crash that truck.”
“Keep them off me, Scott.”
“On it.”
The chopper passed overhead with Coleman leaning through the open door firing at pretty much anything that moved. The border crossing was now visible and Maslick was driving like he was in a demolition derby. On the U.S. side, all the barriers had been lifted and what little backed-up traffic that existed was being waved through.
As Rapp approached, two Mexican border security vehicles started to pull out of their spaces to block him. Maslick sideswiped the front of both and then threw his vehicle in reverse, pulling it back and forth as they tried desperately to get around him.
Rapp swerved into a lane reserved for commercial trucks, aiming for the open gate that marked the border. Once through, he slammed on the brakes and downshifted, forcing the rig to a stop. A moment later, vehicles had pulled in front and behind, blocking him in. A few particularly stupid civilians were filming with their phones instead of fleeing, but a little automatic fire ran them off.
Men in hazmat suits appeared from nowhere, surrounding the truck with their weapons trained on him. One spoke into a microphone attached to a speaker on his hip.
“Do not exit the truck. Do you understand me, Mitch? Stay in the truck.”
Rapp leaned his forehead on the steering wheel as people swarmed the vehicle, adding chocks to the wheels and disabling its electrical system. The AC went off and he was suddenly aware of the sun pounding through the windows.
“Mitch?” Claudia said over his earpiece. “Are you all right?”
He didn’t answer, instead fishing the last two antibiotic pills from his pocket and tossing them in his mouth.
CHAPTER 52
WEST OF TALEH
SOMALIA
THE truck’s headlights created a circle of illumination that quickly faded into the blackness around them. Some three hundred meters ahead, Sayid Halabi could see two similar rings of illumination and he knew there were others behind. They had been on the road now for almost forty-eight hours, traveling by night and taking cover by day.
The landscape was wide-open and the skies had been clearer than forecasted,