Page 126 of Deadly Strain

“Where are we in the pattern?” Grace asked.

Sharp ticked one finger off. “The attack on the village.”

Smoke ticked off the next one. “The deaths of Cutter and the two Marines at the base.”

Grace ticked off the last one. “This decoy slash trap.”

“The direct attack is happening now,” Sharp said.

They stared at each other for three long seconds.

Grace swallowed and turned to Smoke. “Where did you say those trucks are?”

***

Sharp hung on to thedoor as Smoke yanked the steering wheel of the ancient half-ton truck he drove to the right then the left in order to miss a rock that would have hung them up. He followed no road, driving straight across country in a direct line, or as direct as he could manage, toward the base at the fastest speed he dared.

All three of them would be lucky to arrive with their bones intact and their insides not upside down.

Sharp was ready to rearrange the insides of the enlisted moron on the radio. He’d explained that the base was in danger of attack, a second anthrax attack, but the moron kept trying to tell him they had it handled.

“You will do your fucking job,” he said into the radio in a tone promising bad, nasty things if his orders weren’t followed. “You will inform General Stone of my report and you will do it now.”

The moron finally said he’d find someone to report it to and requested Sharp keep the channel open.

“Wow,” Grace said to Smoke. She sat between him and Smoke on the torn-up bench seat. “It sounds like Sharp’s ready to carve that kid up.”

Smoke grunted his agreement, then frowned at the dip in the terrain coming at them and growled, “Hang on.”

Grace, unable to reach anything bolted down, grabbed Sharp around the waist. After a couple of hard bounces and a jerk resulting in a metallicclang, they headed down into a small valley.

“What was that?” Grace asked.

“Probably the suspension,” Sharp said. “Or the muffler.” He thought about it some more. “Or it could have been the brakes.”

Smoke pumped them and nothing happened. “Brakes.”

“No brakes?” Grace yelled.

“Don’t need ’em,” Sharp said. “We’ll be going uphill in a couple of seconds.”

The truck gave an almighty shake as they started up the other side of the valley. Three seconds up the slope, the drive shaft dropped out like it had only been attached to the vehicle with Silly String.

The engine gave a cough and a wheeze then died altogether.

The truck came to a stop then rolled backward.

“Abandon ship,” Sharp said, grabbing his weapon and leaping out the passenger’s side. Grace followed him while Smoke went out the driver’s side.

His radio squawked.

“Who the fuck am I talking to now?” Sharp snarled into it as if he hadn’t just jumped out of a moving vehicle.

“General Stone.”

“My apologies, General, I have no patience for stupidity or assholes. The cave was in use by Akbar, but not as his lab. It was a trap. We lost three men inside and had to fight our way out.”

“Major Samuels?”

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