they believed to be God’s representative on earth right off a cliff. In fact, they’d be happy to do it. More virgins for them.
The men coming in from the sides started shooting again, but were still making sure not to hit anything. Coleman’s team engaged them while Rapp focused on the men coming at him. Individual rounds from his M4 dropped the first two and left two remaining. They were running crouched now, zigzagging to reduce their chance of being hit. Rapp, still on a collision course with them, fired on the run at the man to the right. It took nearly his full magazine, but he finally spun him around with an impact to the right side of his chest.
Less than a second later, he collided with the last man. They went down locked together, starting to roll back down the slope. Some of the rocks beneath them were sharp and while the chances that Rapp had any deadly germs stuck to his chem suit were low, he wasn’t anxious to puncture it.
He managed to arrest their momentum but ended up with Halabi’s man on top. Predictably, he went straight for Rapp’s mask so he could get a look at who he was fighting and thus determine the rules of engagement. While Halabi’s orders would have been to keep Rapp alive, he doubted Coleman and his men would receive the same courtesy.
Rapp grabbed the man’s finger just before it went under his faceplate, wrenching it hard enough to feel it snap. When he jerked back in pain, Rapp scissored a leg up and used it to slam his opponent to the ground. After a brief struggle, the CIA man managed to get hold of one of the rocks he’d been worried about a few seconds before and slam it into the man’s forehead.
He was just getting back to his feet when a man went streaking by—undoubtedly Wick, a fast and light sniper who would be anxious to set up in the high ground before the men approaching from the north and south could close in.
Rapp let Coleman and the rest of his men pass by before he started up, protecting their flank. A few quick bursts in the direction of the headlamps emptied what was left of his mag. There wasn’t much chance of hitting anything, but he might be able to persuade them to slow down.
By the time Rapp made it to the top of the slope, Wick already had his McMillan TAC-338 rifle set up on a bipod and was sighting through the thermal scope. He pulled the trigger and a single round exited the barrel.
“Hit.”
A second shot followed three seconds later.
“Hit. They’re taking cover.”
Rapp lay down among Coleman and his men, glancing behind him and seeing a barely perceptible band of light on the horizon.
• • •
Rapp wiped the dust from his faceplate and watched the jet’s angle of descent steepen. Contrails appeared, followed by a massive wall of fire rising from the earth. Another jet dropped a similar payload, spreading the firestorm.
Unfortunately, the air support had nothing to do with him. The Saudis had finally gotten around to incinerating the village, which was about four miles back now. The sun was still low on the horizon, but the heat was already starting to climb. In another hour, running in the chem suits they were still wearing would no longer be doable.
Rapp picked up a set of binoculars and scanned across the six ISIS operatives pursuing them, finally settling on a man using his hand to shade a similar set of lenses against the sun. They were persistent and well organized, but seemed content to prosecute their chase from just out of rifle range.
His earpiece buzzed and he picked up the satellite call. “Go ahead.”
“Do you see the Saudi jets?” Claudia said.
“They’re hard to miss.”
“According to the pilots, you’ve got two groups coming in on you. One from the northeast and the other from the southeast. As many as twenty vehicles in total. Another seven vehicles are coming in from the west to reinforce the men chasing you.”
That explained why their pursuers were keeping their distance. Halabi had called in the locals still loyal to him. Probably nowhere near the quality of the men they’d been dealing with so far, but it didn’t matter. The terrorist leader’s plan to capture him didn’t really demand crack troops. Just a lot of warm bodies willing to turn cold in an effort to overwhelm them.
“ETAs?”
“Call it twenty-five minutes for