Page 64 of Lucky Charm
“We have company,” Baxter came over the radio. He stood by the left vehicle driver side, the door acting as his shield and his weapon through the open window. “Two trucks. Coming down the dirt track from the house. Loaded with men. Again. Not very original, but not the same trucks.”
Didn’t it figure. He shifted away from the crevice to find Bax’s position and pulled his weapon. Same as before. Only this time there was no blonde to worry about or keep near him. Thank God.
“Tommy?”
“On Bax’s six, right vehicle rear bumper. Twelve of them all armed. Hanging out of the truck like there is bets on hits. Looks like new weapons.”
Doog and Hernandez shoved Haquiri’s body into the back of the left vehicle and slammed the back.
The trucks were coming fast, another attempt to overwhelm them, and he wasn’t having it. “Get in the vehicles any way you can. We’ll split and go on their sides, one left and one right. Get weapons ready. Watch the edges of the dirt trail for rocks. We don’t need any blown tires. Carter, go right to drive. Tommy stay in the back. Doog, Hernandez, go left to Bax. Let’s go.”
They moved in fast, synchronized motion. Sporadic fire became a barrage that exploded the quiet of the empty plains and echoed off the rocks. In the vehicles, Hunt gave the order.
“Bax, lead us out. Tommy, break the back window if you need to. Get into single file as soon as we pass. Step on it.” The words had no sooner left his mouth than Bax and Carter, manning the wheels, accelerated like they were drag racing.
The vehicles weren’t bullet-proof, but they did provide some protection. From the backseat, Hunt rolled down his window and fired and ducked, fired and ducked. Four men each side meant eight shooters for him and Tommy. The same applied for Doogie and Hernandez.
“Front guy is trying to ram us. Hold on.” Carter turned the wheel and shifted the vehicle off track, sand and rocks flying in their wake.
Both vehicles passed them by. “Get back onto the dirt track and let’s fly,” Hunt ordered into his mic. “Bax, take the front.” The other vehicle wobbled then righted onto the dirt road into the compound. Carter followed.
“They’re turning around, LT.” Tommy used the butt of a gun and shattered the back window. “Aiming for their tires.”
Baxter took a hard left onto the road that led to their exit route.
Carter took eyes off the route to find Hunt’s in the mirror. “What if they have a surprise for us, too?”
“Then I guess we climb the mountain again.” He took a moment to look out the back window. He was getting tired of the natives around here.
“LT, check my pack. I’ve got some surprises we can toss at them.” Tommy shifted again to fire at the trucks who were gaining ground. Both vehicles were lighter than the heavy SUVs they were driving.
Doog’s voice came over the radio. “LT, we’ve got a problem. Bax has been hit.”
“Copy. Details?”
“Lower side, leg.”
“He still driving?”
“Yeah. But bleeding.”
“Do what you can. We can’t stop.”
Carter studied the scenery. “We’re not very far from the intersection by that tree. Once we get on the main road, we can move.”
“Hold that idea, son, until I can toss some chaos at them,” Tommy requested.
Hunt leaned over the seat. “Give me your rifle. I’ll keep firing. You throw.” Hunt had worked odd jobs through high school and studied his ass off. Tommy had been a star quarterback for his small Texas high school and a party boy. They took the jobs they were good at.
Hunt took the rifle and sighted the tires. It would be a bitch of a shot on these bumpy roads.
“Take your shot, LT. Then I’ll toss these mothers.”
Hunt fired two rounds, both missed. Tommy threw the grenade. It hit the hood of the truck and exploded. The truck swerved but kept coming.
“Bastards,” Tommy muttered. “Let’s try that again.”
Hunt sighted and fired twice, then aimed at the radiator. The vehicle kept gaining. Tommy tossed another grenade, purposely aiming low. The device hit the dirt ten feet in front of the vehicle, then exploded as the carriage rolled over it. The truck lifted and slid on its side off the road, tossing men off like Lincoln logs.
