Tuesday, September 15, 3:00 p.m.
The village of El Dewar was long gone. The clouds had moved in and the sky was ominous-looking, and the wind was again picking up.
Twenty minutes later they’d stopped for a quick break and were just about to head back to the Jeep when a billowing cloud of sand to the northwest caught Emir’s attention. The buzz of an approaching engine followed and he met Kate’s quizzical look.
“More than likely, a dirt bike, from the sounds of it,” he said.
But it was the unmistakable sound of a gunshot and a thud of a bullet hitting metal that had them diving to the sand.
“Whoever it is, they’re targeting the Jeep,” Kate said in an undertone as if silence mattered.
There was nothing to say. Emir knew stopping had been a mistake. The dunes had provided camouflage and there’d been no one else around, or so he’d thought. But in trying to provide privacy for Kate he’d inadvertently made them vulnerable. There was nothing to do now but deal with the consequences.
They needed to somehow get back to the Jeep. Right now, it was too far away to be of any help. They’d have to use the small dune beside them for cover. Emir motioned with one arm but Kate was already moving that way, her gun in her hand, keeping as far down as possible as she moved. They didn’t return fire, for they didn’t want to alert their attacker to where they were. So far whoever it was had only fired at the Jeep. There was still a chance that whoever was shooting hadn’t spotted them yet, hadn’t realized they’d left their vehicle.
Emir moved forward, head down, trying to keep himself between the shooter and Kate, but she refused to be anything but an equal participant. Exactly as he’d expect from any of his agents, but as much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, Kate was different.
Another shot, this time to their left and over their heads. It was clear now that the shooter knew they weren’t at the Jeep. Suddenly there was silence. Emir frowned. With both hands on the Glock, he shifted to his left, motioning Kate to follow.
They were now maybe twenty feet from the Jeep.
A bullet hit the dune just behind them and kicked up a small cloud of sand. Kate motioned with her hand that she was going to move right and along the dune.
Emir nodded as he covered her progress. But suddenly they weren’t alone. The roar of the bike engine bore down on them as it flew over one dune, coming closer, only sixty feet away. He fired at it, kicking up sand and causing the biker to swerve right and away from them. Emir fired again and this time the driver lost control. The bike toppled, skidding on its side as the driver landed on his feet, his rifle in the sand behind him. They needed to get to the Jeep and they had a minute or less to do it before he was back on his bike.
Kate fired once, twice, but the angle was wrong—a dune protected him.
“Run!” Emir commanded unnecessarily as they both ran, keeping low and moving fast. They launched themselves into the Jeep.
“Go!” Kate yelled. It was another unnecessary command for he had the accelerator to the floor. The Jeep sped forward, pelting sand behind them as they flew over a dune, swerving back and forth to avoid any shots from the biker.
Kate turned and fired multiple times.
“We want him alive, if possible,” Emir shouted over the roar of the engine and knew that the odds were slight that that was going to happen, especially if they both wanted to come out of this alive.
She nodded and, oddly, despite the intensity of the situation, despite the fact that their attention was fixed on their attacker, she turned and smiled at him.
Damn, he thought. She was enjoying this.
The biker was catching up. The bike swerved around them, dodging Kate’s shots, and a bullet cracked the back side window. Plumes of sand kicked up from the bike and masked their attacker’s identity.
Another dirt bike roared over a dune just behind them. Now there was one bike in front and one behind. They had a fifty-foot gap between them and their assailants on either side.
Kate dropped the empty magazine, reloaded her Colt M-1911 and took aim at the second biker. She fired and a quick glance in the rearview mirror said she hadn’t been lucky. The bike was still hot on their tail. The driver’s face was hidden behind a red cloth that covered his face and protected him from the sand that billowed up around him.
“He’s not wearing a helmet,” Kate muttered. She took aim and fired once, then twice. “We’ll be able to take him out that much easier.”
Emir had one hand on the wheel, while with the other he held his Glock. It was almost impossible to steer and aim, but he took a shot at the first biker—at least he could keep him off balance, having to react, giving Kate a chance to line up a better shot.
The second biker was swerving now, seeming to lose control. They were still bracketed between two attackers.
“Hang on!” Emir shouted as he veered right and the Jeep sailed across the desert sand, the wind seeming to howl around them. But neither bike was stopping. Instead both bikes changed direction, one heading in a diagonal path straight at them and the other tailing them but quickly coming up on the other side.
The first biker was again ahead of them. But as he lifted his rifle to fire—the bike skidded sideways and the rider was thrown. He was up on his feet as Kate took aim and fired again. Emir fired a second shot. Sand kicked up around the biker and then he was at the bike. He lifted the rifle, aiming at them as Kate fired, and the rifle snapped out of his hands, slewing along the sand.
“He’s unarmed!” she shouted.
Emir swung in the direction of the unarmed biker, the Jeep’s engine roaring, sand kicking up behind them. It was a race as to who would get to the gun first, but just as suddenly as Emir swerved, the man pulled a revolver from his belt. Kate was hanging out of the window now and all Emir wanted to do was to pull her in to safety. Instead he had to trust her.
A shot screamed off the side of the Jeep and another echoed off the hood.
“Got him!” she shouted.
The words had barely left her mouth before the remaining dirt biker came ripping over the dune, full throttle, as if he’d been waiting for this moment.
Emir swerved the Jeep, gunning the engine as much as he dared, angling, making them less of a target while Kate kept their remaining attacker busy having to swerve right and then left as he dodged her shots.
No matter her difficulty in the Berber village, here, Kate was good. It was a rogue thought and one he couldn’t entertain as he veered again, shadowing the maneuvers of the biker, making them a more difficult target.
He could see Kate, both hands on her handgun, her eyes narrowed. She pulled the trigger. The bike skidded, throwing the rider as the bike rolled down a small sand dune.
“He’s not moving,” Emir said, looking in the rearview mirror at the fallen biker.
He looked at Kate. Her face was flushed and there was a troubled look to her eyes as she glanced at him, and he realized the earlier smile had been all about the joy of the chase. The kill was another matter. He gripped the wheel as he turned in the direction of the first downed biker.
As they approached, and the Jeep slowed, Kate was out, crouching, her handgun raised and ready to fire. The biker lay sprawled thirty feet ahead.
Emir threw the Jeep into Park and followed Kate, his gun in both hands. But the biker still wasn’t moving.
Kate looked back, nodded when she saw Emir in position just behind her and shifted to her left, carefully moving forward until she reached the body. She pushed the biker’s shoulder with her foot—nothing. She squatted and turned the body over. It was a man, thin, with a scruff of dark beard, maybe thirty years old. “He was at El Dewar. I remember him standing between the houses. It was just a moment and then he vanished.”