Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 98561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
I looked at JD again, my chest going tight. Wait. Did he lose—
JD looked away from the kid and caught my eye. He must have seen the concern on my face because he looked thrown, then embarrassed, and finally, firm. Don’t, his eyes told me.
I nodded sadly.
All business again, JD started issuing orders. We huddled close to listen. “Cal, you find a perch, tell us what’s coming and cover our asses. Bradan, Gabriel: they got us beat on raw numbers. You’ve got to find ways to slow them down. Give us as long as possible to get ready.” He pointed to Colton and Danny. “We three are the welcoming committee: we’ll try to pin them down and then fall back house by house, make them fight for every inch.”
I found myself nodding. Just days ago, we were a bunch of guys, thrown together. Now, we all knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses. And we trusted JD to know the best way to put us to use. We felt like a team.
“Go do your stuff,” said JD. And the huddle broke as people hurried away to their tasks.
Olivia threw her arms around me and I kissed her hard and deep, then picked her right up off the ground and crushed her to me. I’d told myself that I’d never let her go again and here I was, running off into battle again. I looked down at her, worried.
She nodded firmly, as if she could read my thoughts. “Go,” she told me, “Go! I’ll be fine.”
I reluctantly put her down…then I nodded to Bradan and we ran off to meet the enemy.
45
GABRIEL
As we’d flown in, I’d been able to get a feel for the layout of the village and the land around it. The military convoy was approaching from the north, down a winding logging road that cut through thick jungle. I ran with Bradan to the edge of the village and stopped in the middle of the road, staring at the point where the convoy would round the corner. If the convoy drove right into the village, the soldiers would be able to use their trucks and jeeps as cover while we’d be stuck sheltering behind flimsy wooden buildings. We had to even the odds. We had to somehow get them out of their vehicles.
“We’re going to need an ax,” I said at last. “No, two axes.”
Bradan ran off and returned only a few minutes later with an ax in each hand. “You’re going to cut down a tree so it falls across the road?”
“Mmm,” I said, noncommittally. I was walking along the road, looking at trees, measuring distances and angles in my head.
Bradan followed patiently for a while. But then we heard the distant rumble of engines. “Maybe we should…you know, get chopping.”
“Mmm-hmm.” I was looking up at a tree. Not that one. I walked to the next. Not that one either.
The engines were getting louder. “They’re going to be here any minute.” Bradan watched as I examined a tree and then walked away from it. “What was wrong with that one?”
“Trust me,” I mumbled, already frowning at another tree. “I did this with an armored car once, in France.”
The engines became a roar. “Gabriel, seriously, just any feckin’ tree!” His Irish accent got stronger when he was stressed.
“This one,” I said triumphantly, slapping the trunk. I took an ax from him and started chopping. Bradan raced over and we got into a rhythm, alternating our swings. The tree was a big one, the trunk at least three feet wide. Each chop sent a shower of matchwood spraying out but the cut in the tree barely seemed to get any deeper and the engines were getting louder and louder: you could make out individual vehicles now. Maybe I had spent too long choosing. We pushed ourselves harder, swinging like madmen.
The engine noise changed, becoming clearer: they were only one corner away. We looked at each other in fear: we were only two-thirds through. I threw down my ax. “Push!”
Bradan and I hurled ourselves at the tree and pushed with everything we had. At first, nothing happened. But as we dug our boots into the soil and heaved with our backs, slowly, slowly, it started to tip. And then, with a cracking, tearing sound, it toppled, crashing down across the road. I pulled Bradan well away, back towards the village, and we hunkered down where we could watch.
The first truck came around the bend and stopped when the driver saw the tree. The convoy stopped and the soldiers in the first few trucks dismounted and fanned out cautiously, expecting an ambush.
They looked at the tree. There was a quick discussion. Then the truck driver drove slowly forward, butted the truck’s bumper up against the tree and began to push. The tree held fast for a moment and then, as he gunned the engine, it started to slide along the road.