BRAINRUSH 02 - The Enemy of My Enemy (43 page)

In the distance, a line of vehicles and men sped in the opposite direction, lured by the decoy fire from Papa’s allies. But a single set of wandering eyes could change that in a beat. The lead jeep in the pack opened fire on the tree line with its .50-cal. Even from two hundred yards away, the rumble of the high-grain rounds found its way to Jake’s bones.

Tyler’s shout returned Jake’s attention to the front. “Come on, Jake!” The nine-year-old boy was a natural athlete, MVP of his soccer team since age six. The kid was fast. He’d noticed that Jake was falling behind and returned to urge him on. His pop’s son in more than just looks, Jake thought. “You can do it!” Tyler said, running backward beside him. “Keep your eyes forward and I’ll watch your six.”

Jake didn’t argue. He pushed ahead.

“Lever down one notch,” Tyler added.

“Huh?”

Tyler pointed to the assault rifle. “You’ve got the safety on. Flip the lever down one notch for full auto!”

“Christ,” Jake muttered. He adjusted the lever and looked at Tony’s son with a newfound respect.

Tyler grinned.“
Call of Duty
. Best game ever!”

They were a hundred yards from the jungle when the boy shouted, “They’re turning!”

Jake swiveled and took a knee. “Keep running,” he yelled between heaves of breath. The kid sprinted to join his family.

The lead jeep was two hundred yards away and closing fast. It was headed on a cut-off course toward the tree line. The gunner opened fire and time slowed. Dirt exploded among his friends. They scattered. Two of the locals were blown off their feet. Tony went down and Papa’s body tumbled from his shoulders. Max leapt into the air with a startled yelp. A trail of tracer rounds punched its way toward Lacey, Marshall, and the children. Francesca screamed.

Jake pressed the stock of the AK to his cheek and squeezed the trigger. The gun chattered in his unsteady hands. He raked the sight picture through the jeep’s path. One of the rounds must have hit pay dirt because the vehicle veered suddenly and headed straight for him. The .50-cal continued to fire. Pocks of exploding dirt closed in on him. Jake’s AK clicked on an empty magazine. The jeep kept coming. A cry of rage burst from his throat.

He dodged to one side and shouted to his friends, “Run!” He’d never make it to the tree line in time, but with a few more seconds, they could. Jake rose to his feet. He was too weak to sprint, but none of that mattered. He shouted in defiance and charged the oncoming vehicle.

The gunner adjusted his aim.

In the stretched instant when Jake realized that death was coming, a single wonderful thought infused his mind.

Love…

Francesca and Sarafina were safe. The rest of his friends, too. And suddenly Jake knew that everything was as it should be. He embraced the peacefulness of the moment, splaying his arms in the air to welcome the round that would end it all.

The jeep swerved violently to one side thirty yards away. It nearly toppled over in a cloud of dust. The gunner was thrown from the rear as the jeep lurched to a stop. The driver and front passenger were in a fierce struggle. The gunner pushed to his feet and moved toward them. One of his legs dragged limply behind him. He drew a sidearm.

Jake shifted positions to place the jeep between him and the gunner. That’s when he recognized the two men still in the vehicle—Bradley and Abbas. Teeth bared, knives slashed, and a trail of blood arced in the air. Jake stumbled forward, breathing hard. Bradley had just saved his life.

Jake was unsure what he could do in his weakened state, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to sit by and watch. He moved toward the two fighting men. He felt a surge of renewed vigor that he assumed was fueled by the last drops of adrenaline in his system. The men continued grappling. The passenger door at Bradley’s back sprang open. Abbas kicked and Bradley spilled onto the dirt. Blood darkened the front of his shirt. His eyes met Jake’s.

Abbas shouted to the approaching gunner, “Kill the American!”

Jake’s mind cleared. Everything happened at once.

The gunner rounded the vehicle.

Abbas cocked an elbow. His throwing knife dripped with blood.

Bradley pulled something from his pocket and tossed it.

 Abbas loosed the knife. Jake dove forward and grabbed the mini from the air. Time slowed. Jake’s limbs and muscles came alive. Abbas’s blade tumbled end over end, tiny droplets of blood spinning from its tip. He snatched it from the air and snapped his wrist in a powerful side throw that would have looked like a blur to Battista’s right-hand man. With a loud thunk, the blade buried itself to the hilt in Abbas’s forehead. His wide-eyed stare remained frozen as he toppled to the ground.

A beat later Jake’s shoulder drove into the gunner’s gut. The shocked terrorist flew backward. The pistol spiraled from his hand. He grunted in pain as his injured leg twisted beneath him. Jake retrieved the pistol, turned, and shot the man twice in the chest. There was no hesitation. Jake had long since stopped wondering whether killing was a justified means to an end. Hell, not long from now every living thing in a two-mile radius would be dead at his hand.

He rushed to Bradley’s side. The teaching assistant’s face was pale, his breathing labored. A bloody hand pressed against a wound in his gut.

“I’m sorry, Jake.”

“Shut up,” Jake said. He removed his shirt and wadded it up.

“Th—they were going to kill Josh.”

Jake handed him the shirt. “Press this against the wound. How bad is it?”

Bradley grimaced.

The sounds of gunfire from across the camp changed in pitch. The feint from Papa’s allies had played itself out. Battista’s forces were headed this way.

 Bradley shook his head. “L—leave me.”

“No way,” Jake pulled the man to his feet. Bradley groaned in pain. Jake hefted him into the jeep’s passenger seat. He ran around to the other side, yanked Abbas’s body out, and slid behind the wheel.

**

The path through the trees was barely wide enough to accommodate the jeep. Jake leaned closer to the windshield to avoid getting whipped by low-hanging vines. “Keep your heads down!” he warned.

Tony ducked. He sat in the passenger seat beside him. He and Becker had waited at the tree line for Jake. Bradley was slouched in the backseat with Becker.

“There’s a clearing half a click ahead,” Becker yelled. “The rest of them should be there by now.”

“Christ, Tony,” Jake shouted, as he pushed the jeep to its limits down the trail. “I thought you were a goner.”

“Yeah, me, too. The slug hit Papa’s body and knocked me on my ass. Even in death, that tough Mexican saved my life.”

Heavy gunfire flared behind them. Bullets ripped through the foliage. The jeep hit a straightaway and Jake floored it. In the trees ahead, a pair of SEALs waved them forward. The heavy throb of a V-22’s rotors filled the air. Its silhouette buzzed toward them above the canopy. Jake caught a brief glimpse of the gunship as it passed overhead. The underside bristled with weapons. Twin rockets leapt from its wing-mounted pods and Jake heard the chainsaw buzz of its Gatling gun. Explosions shook the ground behind them. Battista’s men would be scattering. 

“Hoorah!” shouted Tony.

They sped past the SEALs and broke into a clearing. A second Osprey was nestled amidst an expansive stand of tall grass. The wash from its rotors whipped the grass into a frenzy of swirls that emanated outward like waves in a storm. Birds scattered from the surrounding trees. The ramp was down. Marshall leaned out and waved them forward. More explosions in the distance behind them. The gunship was buying them the time they needed. They had twenty minutes to clear the area before the nuke went off. Plenty of time, Jake thought. Battista would never threaten his friends again.

Ashes to ashes.

The jeep skidded to a stop. Tony jumped out and gave Becker a hand with Bradley. The two men lifted him out of the vehicle. Bradley winced in pain.

“Hurry,” Jake ordered. “Get him inside.” He turned to Marshall. Lacey stood beside him on the ramp. “Morphine!” he shouted.

“No!” Bradley said as they carried him up the ramp.

“Whadaya mean, no?” Tony said.

“N—not yet.” Bradley’s words were forced. He stared at Jake. “There’s something I must…”

Jake leaned closer.

“The
sheikh
…” Bradley said. His eyes were glassy and his words were separated by labored breaths. “Chemical…in the water…L.A.”

The mention of the infertility drug set Jake on edge. “Save your breath, Brad. I know you’re sorry. In the end you changed your mind. That’s what matters. In any case, we stopped it. All six bottles are toast.”

Bradley shook his head. He struggled to gather enough air to form his words. He tried to say something but the words wouldn’t come. His breathing slowed.

Jake tried to comfort him. He whispered in his ear. “You saved us. You saved the children. Allah will forgive you. And the
sheikh
will never harm anyone again. In another few minutes, this jungle is going to blow sky high.”

Bradley grabbed Jake’s lapel. His eyes were pinched in pain. He coughed blood. “Seven bottles,” he gurgled.

Jake’s blood froze. The teacher took two wheezing breaths and his lips formed around his final words. “H—hidden…helicopter.” His body sagged.

The words cut into Jake’s core. There was still one more canister—and Battista had an exit plan. He snapped his head around and gazed at his friends and loved ones. His fingers caressed the mini in his pocket. His mind raced. The two SEALs who had provided rear cover ran toward the ramp.

No choice.

Jake rose and took Francesca in his arms. His walls had collapsed. She knew what was happening. He entered her thoughts. 

All my love…

All my life…

He kissed her and said, “Take care of our child.”

 Francesca’s sobs electrified the group.

“What’s going on?” Sarafina said, her eyes brimming with tears.

Jake crouched to her level and she swarmed into his arms. “Don’t go, Daddy!”

“My darling child, my heart has been yours since the day we met in Venice. A sweeter soul than yours doesn’t exist. You need to be strong. For yourself. For Francesca. And…for your baby brother.” He ushered her into Francesca’s waiting embrace.

“Brother?” Sarafina sniffled.

Francesca’s lips opened in surprise.

“Yes,” Jake said. “It’s a boy. Don’t ask me how I know; I just do. And he’s special, Francesca. Soon you’ll sense it, too. He might even be the harbinger of a
new
human race. Better, smarter, stronger. Protect him.”

The SEALs stormed up the ramp. Cal shouted from the cockpit. “We’re outta here!”

Jake stepped to the edge of the ramp.

Becker and Tony moved to his side. “Whatever you’re doin’, I’m goin’ with ya.”

“Don’t you dare!” Melissa shouted from the forward area. Tyler, Andrea, and Josh were strapped down beside her on the inward-facing seats. Max was curled beside Josh. The four surviving locals cowered across from them.

“What the hell’s going on, Jake?” Marshall said. He started to unbuckle his safety belt. Lacey was already on her feet.

“I gotta go, pal.”

Marshall rose. “Screw that, dude!”

“Bad word!” Josh yelled.

Max barked.

“Everybody stop!” Jake shouted.

The engines revved. The rotors picked up speed. He raised his voice over the noise.

“Listen to me. All of you.” He snapped the assault rifle from Tony’s grasp before his friend even saw him move. “Live your lives! Count each day as a blessing. Don’t worry about alien visitors. They probably don’t even exist anymore. And even if they did, the soonest they could arrive is forty years from now. In that time, mankind can change. We’ve seen it. Gang members working hand in hand with cops and ordinary people like you and me.” He motioned to Bradley’s body. “A devout terrorist changing sides because of the innocence of children.
That
is man’s nature, too. In the end, that part of us
will
prevail.”

The V-22 began to rise. “See that the world takes a lesson from what we’ve done. We can accomplish anything if we stick together. And Battista will be no more. That’s my parting gift to all of you. Instead of death, I offer you life!”

He leapt into the air.

By the time Becker and Tony peered over the edge, Jake was racing toward the jungle in the jeep.

Chapter 77

Venezuelan rainforest

J
ake drew energy from the mini, infusing every fiber of his being with its unnatural fuel. He felt exhilarated. Nothing could stop him from doing what must be done. Nothing but death, he corrected himself. But he’d fought it off before and he could do it for a few more minutes. Then he’d welcome it. It was his time. His heart was on its last throws anyway. And his friends were safe.