Infidels (29 page)

He’d
prefer the first two if they were discovered. At least then those in the
choppers might actually know what cargo they were carrying and hold their fire.

The
choppers rushed overhead, the thunder slowly waning as they continued past
their position. Red waited for a few moments, listening carefully to see if
they turned back.

“I think
we’re clear,” said Atlas, the noise now distant and still fading.

“We’re
going to have to keep off the main roads,” said Red as he put the truck in
gear, slowly easing out from their cover to continue bypassing the checkpoint.
He stuck his head out the window. “Take out the brake lights!”

Jimmy
and Spock quickly complied, eliminating one worry. Once the sun no longer
provided him enough light he’d switch to night vision and drive without
headlights, hopefully allowing them to stay out of sight.

Atlas
resumed his perch in the window. “We’ll never make it on time.”

Red
nodded. There was no way they were going to make the rendezvous, he just hoped
that getting there eventually would be good enough. And like the Colonel said,
they could always just dump the artifact and bug out.

He
rounded a dune and picked up the old dirt road they had used on several
occasions, it most likely the predecessor to the paved Highway 5 they had just
been on.

“We’ll
stick to this as long as possible,” he shouted to the others. “We’ll be late,
but we’ll hopefully be alive.”

Hopefully.

He had
survived Ebola, one of the deadliest diseases known to man. If he was going to
die today, he wanted it to be an honorable death, and he wasn’t quite sure if
trying to return some religious artifact counted.

It
could save thousands of lives.

That
would normally be enough, more than enough, but it was the entire situation
that was disturbing him. If someone accused Muslims of stealing something
important to Christianity, would he and others like him feel compelled to riot
and murder?

He
couldn’t imagine even one in a thousand doing so.

He
growled slightly as he slowed to put the night vision goggles on. Flipping them
down over his eyes, the road ahead became clear again and he pressed on the
accelerator a little harder. With the sun set, there’d be no need to worry
about anyone spotting dust from the tires.

As they
continued forward in silence, he thought of the reports he had managed to see
during the brief communications window. It was sickening what was happening. He
wished he were in Paris or London or Amsterdam right now with his team,
eliminating these rampaging hordes with extreme prejudice.

He
sucked in a deep breath, calming the rage.

Every
single one of the rioters deserved to die for what they were doing as far as he
was concerned, and their victims deserved peace, which would never happen until
they successfully completed their mission.

And
should he die tonight, delivering a piece of rock that meant nothing to him but
everything to the Religion of Peace, he’d die knowing it was those innocents he
was trying to save, not some religion’s stolen artifact.

And he
could live with that.

Approaching Orly Airport, Outside Paris, France

“Jesus,” muttered Niner as Dawson brought the SUV to a halt, the
airport finally visible. Planes were taking off with little gap between them,
others landing in a steady stream, most likely charters from various countries
trying to evacuate their citizens.

And
there were a lot still waiting.

As they
neared the airport it was clear chaos ruled the day. More and more vehicles
were abandoned on the side of the road, the traffic barely moving until it
finally ground to a halt, desperate souls taking to walking and running toward
the airport in the distance.

There
were thousands.

“Look
over there.”

Dawson
turned to where Niner was pointing. Fires were burning at the eastern end of
the airport where the terminals were. From this distance it was as if thousands
of ants were scurrying away from something, some predator, screams reaching
their ears even from here.

“Oh my
god,” whispered Maggie. “What’s happening?”

“I’m
guessing the rioters our friend back there was referring to have reached the
airport.”

“Then
how the hell are we going to get to Acton’s plane?” asked Niner. “We’ve got to
somehow get through that, and we’re already late.”

Dawson
dialed the professor’s phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey,
Doc, it’s us. What’s your status?”

“Tenuous.
We’re still stuck here waiting and it looks like the rioters have reached the
airport. From what I can see they’re burning and smashing everything. Our pilot
is getting ready to jam his way into line to get out of here.”

“Okay,
we’re just outside the airport now. Send us your exact GPS coordinates and
we’ll try to get there. But if you get a chance to leave, you take it.”

“Not
bloody likely. You just get your asses here as fast as you can.”

His
phone vibrated.

“Did you
get the coordinates?”

He
handed the phone to Niner who nodded, entering them into the GPS. “We’ve got
it. We’re coming now.”

“Good
luck.”

He ended
the call and looked at the GPS. “That things useless. We can’t use the roads.”

Niner
tapped the coordinates on the phone and brought up the actual location on the
map. He pointed to the left of the terminals. “They’re down there.”

“Text
him for the tail number,” said Dawson as he surveyed the area, his eyes
settling on a road that appeared to ring the airport. The only problem was it
was on the wrong side of the fence that also ringed the airport. The road was
jammed with vehicles and refugees, now not sure where to go, the chaos ahead of
them clear to everyone.

The
airport was no longer a safe haven.

He
spotted a gate about a hundred yards ahead.

He
slammed the SUV into gear and jumped the curb, rushing along the grass then hopping
back onto the access road leading to the unmanned gate. He hit the brakes about
ten feet short. “We can’t risk the airbags deploying and cutting off the fuel.”

“C4?”

Dawson
nodded, Niner already reaching into their bag of tricks then jumping out of the
vehicle. Within moments he had the charge in place, running back toward the
truck, using the open door as cover. “Fire in the hole!” He flicked the switch
for the remote detonator and a small explosion tore apart the lock. Running
toward the gate, he pulled one side open as people began to surge toward the
opening from the road.

Dawson
pulled up beside Niner who jumped inside as the SUV surged onto the airport
grounds, racing down the ring road. Niner held up the cellphone. “We’re less
than a mile away.”

“What’s
that?” asked Maggie, pointing between the seats toward the terminals.

Dawson
rounded a bend in the road and cursed. Hundreds of rioters were swarming around
the terminal and toward the runways. Niner pointed toward a group of smaller
private jets. “That’s them!”

Dawson
steered off the road and onto the grass, gunning it toward where Niner was
pointing.

Gunfire
cracked nearby and something hit the SUV.

Maggie
screamed as Niner dove into the back of the vehicle, pushing her to the floor
and acting as a human shield.

“Tail
number!”

Dawson
was rushing toward a dozen planes, all looking like the rich’s weekend toys.

He
smiled.

“Never
mind, I’ve got them!”

Acton
was standing on the top of the stairs of a Gulf V, heat rippling from its
engines. Dawson honked the horn and Acton turned, spotting them.

“Shit!”

He
slammed on the brakes, cranking the wheel to the right as a deep ditch suddenly
became visible, it freshly dug, some sort of maintenance work underway before
the rioting had broken out. He gunned the engine, the tires spinning on the
slick grass, straight toward dozens of protesters.

A bullet
tore through the windshield, directly where Niner had been moments before.

“Suppression
fire!” He reached over and lowered the rear passenger side window as Niner
repositioned himself, another shot pinging off the hood. “Aim low!”

“Roger
that!”

Niner’s
Glock began to belch lead at the crowd as Dawson headed directly toward them,
there no alternative, the ditch with new piping laid inside running the entire
way, blocking them from the tarmac. Rioters began to drop as Niner’s aim proved
true on a few of his shots, shooting accurately from a bouncing vehicle not the
easiest of tasks.

They
slowed up.

Dawson
spotted temporary steel plating over the ditch ahead and hit the brakes,
skidding into a left turn then gunning it over and onto the tarmac. He could
see Acton clearly now at the bottom of the steps as the gap closed quickly. To
their right there were hundreds if not thousands of people flooding the
tarmacs, planes starting to taxi through the rioters, one 747 pilot turning and
blasting his engines sending bodies skidding across the tarmac, arms flailing
as they tried to stop tumbling.

He
smiled.

Slamming
the brakes on, he angled the truck to be a shield between them and the crowd,
but he knew it was of little use. He threw open the door and jumped to the
ground, grabbing Maggie as Niner piled out after her. Aiming at the crowd, he
fired at their feet to try and slow them down.

It
didn’t work.

“Come
on! Let’s go!” shouted Acton as Dawson and Niner provided cover, backing toward
the stairs.

Shots
from the crowd rang out and Dawson heard a thud behind him and Acton shout in
horror. He spun to see if Acton was okay and felt his world collapse when he
saw Maggie lying at the base of the steps, her body a crumpled mess, Acton
rushing down to help her.

And
blood flowing freely from her head.

“No!” he
screamed, running over to her and gently lifting her head, checking for a
pulse, finding none. Tears welled in his eyes as his chest tightened, a flurry
of emotions ripping through him as he looked down at the lifeless face of the
woman he loved, the woman he had never told how he felt.

As tears
flowed down his face Niner slapped him on his shoulder. “BD, we’ve gotta get
out of here, now!”

Niner’s
voice was distant, the pounding blood in his ears overwhelming. Acton was
shouting at him and the plane surged forward a few feet, the pilot desperate to
leave. He gently moved Maggie’s hair from her face, cupping her cheek in his
hand.

“I love
you.”

He stood
and returned to the SUV, pulling an M4 from the rear seat and several mags,
slipping them in his rear pocket. He stepped to the front of the vehicle, using
the hood for cover and opened fire. Maggie was dead and these people, these
fanatics, these insane pieces of shit were responsible, and as far as he was concerned,
every single one of them deserved to die even if they hadn’t pulled the
trigger.

“BD!
We’ve gotta go!”

He
ignored Niner’s plea, instead reloading, a swath of the crowd on the ground,
the religious fanatics, their bloodlust equal to his own, continued to surge
forward. Someone grabbed him from behind and tried to pull him toward the
plane.

He shook
them off.

“Jesus
Christ, BD, she wouldn’t want you to die too!”

Niner bodily
lifted him off the ground in a reverse bear hug, pulling him toward the steps.
Dawson didn’t resist, but kept his weapon raised at the wrist, squeezing the
trigger, still taking out some of those responsible for Maggie’s death.

They
reached the steps and he felt another set of hands grab him, spinning him away
from the crowd, his eye contact with the object of his hatred cut. Acton
grabbed him by the back of the head. “Focus! You need to get on the plane or
we’re all dead!”

Dawson
nodded and began to climb the few steps when he heard something over the roar
of the engines. Looking to the south he saw dozens of gunships on the horizon,
the French response apparently about to begin.

Kill
them all!

He
stepped inside the Gulf V and the steps immediately pulled up, the door closing
as the pilot began to roll forward. They quickly picked up speed as Dawson
dropped to the floor beside Maggie, the nurse from the embassy at her side,
apparently having accompanied Laura.

“She’s
lost a lot of blood,” she said. “I don’t know if she’s going to make it.”

The
words didn’t register at first, the sight of Maggie, pale and still,
overwhelming. He took her hand in his, holding it to his lips, kissing it
gently as a tear rolled down his cheek.

I
wish I had told you how I felt.

Her hand
squeezed his slightly.

He
looked at the nurse then back at Maggie. “What did you say? Is she alive?”

“Barely.”

“But
she’s going to live?”

The
nurse shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, but I just don’t know, I’m not
a doctor and it’s a head wound. Depending on what it hit she might be perfectly
fine, or dead in minutes. We need to get her to a hospital.”

Dawson
jumped up, pressing his face against one of the windows. “We need to stop the
plane.”

“There’s
no way that’s happening, BD,” said Niner. “They’ll kill us all.”

Dawson
dropped into the seat, nodding as the plane taxied onto the runway, seemingly
only feet away from the plane ahead of it, the pilot already pushing the
throttle. He closed his eyes for a moment as he was pressed back into his seat,
the plane lifting off then banking sharply. His head turned and he watched as the
gunships raced across the airport, guns blazing, the crowds scattering as
hundreds were felled.