Page 84 of Cross Down
I start to clamber up the small, rocky hill to get a better view of the battlefield below and behind me. I stop halfway, break out a small pair of binoculars, scan the terrain. I see at least six attackers moving toward me slowly and deliberately, taking cover as they approach, and I fire off four three-round bursts to slow them down, then resume my climb upward.
Minutes later, I’m at the top.
My lungs are burning, my legs are aching, and my rucksack seems fifty pounds heavier. The top of the hill is nearly flat, a square stretch about the size of two tennis courts, with dirt and more rocks, boulders, and crevasses.
I drop my rucksack, take aim down below. I see three fighters moving closer to the hill.
I fire until my bolt snaps open and quickly reload, and then I hear the snap of a bullet going over my head and ricocheting off a near rock.
A bullet coming from the opposite direction.
Damn it!
I scurry to the other side, and sure enough, I see the bastards have outflanked me. Two are coming up at me from that side.
Two more bursts from me to slow them down.
I really hope Deacon is running like hell.
What now?
I move and duck; two more rounds slap my way. My attackers have split into three groups, and they’re all advancing on me at the same time. I can hold them off for a while, but eventually they’ll get close enough to pour on the fire and overwhelm me.
I go back to the top of my little command.
I think,Keep running, Elizabeth, keep running safely with that evidence.
I peer again, see movement, fire off another three-round burst. The action to my M4 snaps open and locks. Reloading time.
I drop the empty magazine and slap another one in, noting I have just four more left. I move across the soft bare dirt in the center of this little hilltop, frantically trying to come up with a plan, knowing I owe it to Willow and Alex and the Cross family and everybody else to get out of here alive.
Alive.
I drop my rucksack, get to work.
Billie,I pray again,one more time, that’s all I ask.
Chapter
94
Elizabeth Deacon collapses,breathing hard, legs trembling, thirsty as hell. She pulls out her water bottle, takes a long swallow, puts the cap back on, rolls over among the rocks, and looks at the distance she’s covered.
She grabs her binoculars and looks at the small hill where John is making his stand. She hears the distant echoes of gunfire and sees two figures leapfrogging up the side of the hill.
“John,” she whispers. “Kill them. Kill them all.”
She has a sudden urge to run back and hit John’s attackers from the rear, but she shakes it off. She has to get back to Tajikistan. Has to.
She blinks tears from her eyes, whispers, “Good luck.” The attackers are getting close to the top, and it seems like John’s run out of ammunition.
“Oh, damn it to hell,” she says; she puts the binoculars in her rucksack, gets up, and starts running, not looking back.
Chapter
95
Only a yardor so left before getting to the top of this accursed hill, but Bibi Ahmadi is feeling the taste of triumph. They have chased this tall Black man like an escaped goat, and now he’s trapped on top of this hill. No place to go. Bibi’s cousin Fateh is lying dead back there, a bullet through his forehead, but Bibi envies the warrior. He is now in paradise, enjoying the rewards from Allah.
