The Panther - By Nelson Demille Page 0,110

their money.

Clare said, “Maybe we should turn around.”

Mike replied, “That’s for the boss to decide, and he’s already decided.”

Right. Paul Brenner wasn’t turning around. In fact, we’d gotten ourselves into a dicey situation. But I think that was the goal.

Mike said, “Well, we got the road all to ourselves.”

“I hope so.”

The road skirted a town high up on a hill, and Mike said, “That’s Ibb. Last town we’ll see in these hills.” He added, “Almost no government presence here.”

“Good. We’re almost out of shakedown money, so that works.”

He continued, “The tribes rule here, but they won’t take on this convoy.” He reminded me, however, “Al Qaeda is the new boy on the block here.”

Right. And they don’t want your money. They want your head.

CHAPTER FORTY

The mountains were parched, and there were herds of goats nibbling at the brown vegetation. I could see mud huts on the slopes and in the alpine meadows. People lived here, but I hadn’t seen anyone for a while. Khat time?

White clouds had developed around the peaks, but the Predator infrared cameras should be able to see through them.

The narrow road was paved, but clouds of dust partly obscured the two Land Cruisers ahead of us. We were driving mostly on the left to lessen the damage from a roadside bomb planted on the right. But a bomb could also be planted on the left.

We were maintaining a speed of about a hundred KPH—about sixty miles an hour—which was pushing the limit here.

The radios were quiet, and so were my companions.

Finally, Mike said, “In about thirty minutes we’ll be coming down onto the plateau.”

I could tell by Mike’s tone of voice that he seemed to have a mountain phobia, and probably with good reason.

Every now and then I scanned the terrain with the binoculars, but I didn’t see anything suspicious. Not that I’d know what suspicious looked like around here. But I’m sure if I saw it, I’d know it.

I asked Clare, “How you doing?”

No reply.

I turned and saw she was sleeping. I guess that’s the best way to get through a terrifying ride through enemy territory. I said to Mike, “You should try to catch some sleep, too.”

I thought that was funny, but he didn’t laugh. I hoped he wasn’t flashing back to Afghanistan.

The radio crackled, and Brenner’s voice, cool and calm, said, “Predator reports ambush ahead.”

That got my attention.

Mike said, “Shit!”

Clare, awake now, asked, “What did he say?”

I said to her, “Get down below the windows. Now. Quick.”

She unfastened her seat belt and got flat on the seat.

Brenner said, “Maintain max speed.”

I focused my binoculars on the road ahead, and about three hundred yards in front of Brenner’s lead vehicle I saw three things: a mud hut close to the right side of the road, then fifty yards farther a white Toyota SUV on the narrow shoulder with its hood up, and finally at a bend in the road a donkey cart and driver coming toward us.

Mike said, “There’s the ambush—maybe IEDs…” He said to me, “Get below the windows.”

I kept looking through the binoculars.

Brenner’s lead vehicle was literally seconds from the mud hut, and I saw his brake lights come on, and he swerved to the far left on a collision course with the donkey cart. Then all of a sudden I saw a streak of smoke coming out of the sky, and a second later the mud hut exploded, then erupted again in a secondary explosion whose shockwave rocked the SUV.

Clare screamed.

Holy shit.

Two more streaks of smoke came out of the sky, and in quick succession the Toyota and the donkey cart erupted in deafening explosions.

Debris was falling out of the sky, the brown grass was burning, and black smoke billowed from what remained of the Toyota.

Brenner’s vehicle hit a chunk of donkey as it shot through the devastated area, followed by Buck’s vehicle, then ours. Something hit the windshield and left a thick red smear on the glass.

Mamma mia.

I looked in the sideview mirror and saw Kate’s vehicle coming through the smoke and the debris field, followed by the Bondmobile.

Then something else hit our SUV, and it took me a second to realize we were taking rounds.

Mike hit the gas and we two-wheeled it around the S-curve as we got hit again. A loud noise filled the SUV and I turned to see a big dimple in the back windshield where it had taken a bullet. I could also see green tracer rounds coming from the hills around us, streaking toward

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