Page 38 of Never
‘– is the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.’
Tamara felt like a target. He could shoot her through the windscreen. The distance was close-range for a rifle. She was clearly visible and she could hardly move, sitting in the driving seat. She said: ‘We should get out of the car.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m not going to learn anything sitting here.’
‘Okay.’
They both got out.
Tamara could hear the traffic on the upper bridge but could not see the vehicles.
Susan went to the green car and conferred with the squad. When she came back she said: ‘I told them to stay in the car, as we’re being discreet, but they’ll jump out at any sign of trouble.’
From somewhere there was a shout: ‘Al-Bustan!’
Tamara looked around, puzzled. Where had it come from and why would anyone shout those words?
That was when the first shots were fired.
There was arat-tat-tatlike a snare drum in a rock band, then a crash of breaking glass, and finally a shout of pain.
Without thought, Tamara threw herself under the Peugeot.
Susan did the same.
There were screams of terror from the people crossing the bridge. Looking that way, Tamara saw that they were all trying to run back the way they had come. But she could not see anyone firing.
The man Tamara had been watching had not deployed his weapon. Lying under the car, her heart thudding, Tamara said: ‘Where the fuck did that shot come from?’ The uncertainty made her more scared.
Alongside her, Susan said: ‘From above. From the vehicle bridge.’
Susan had a clear view of the high bridge when she poked her head out on her side, whereas Tamara could see the pedestrian bridge without moving.
‘The shots smashed the windscreen of the other car,’ Susan went on. ‘I think one of the guys got hit.’
‘Oh, Christ, I hope he’s all right.’
There was another roar of agony, this one longer.
‘He doesn’t sound dead.’ Susan looked to her right. ‘They’re dragging him under their car.’ She paused. ‘It’s Corporal Ackerman.’
‘Oh, hell, how is he?’
‘I can’t tell.’
There was no more yelling, which Tamara thought was a bad sign.
Susan looked out and up, with her pistol in her hand. She fired once. ‘Too far away,’ she said with frustration. ‘I can see someone pointing a rifle over the parapet of the vehicle bridge, but I can’t hit him at this distance with a damn handgun.’
There was another burst of fire from the bridge, and a terrifying cacophony of breaking sounds as bullets tore into the roof and windows of the Peugeot. Tamara heard herself scream. She put her hands over her head, knowing it was useless but unable to resist the instinct.
However, when the burst ended she was unhurt, and so was Susan.
Susan said: ‘He’s firing from the high bridge. Now would be a good time to draw your weapon, if you’re ready.’
‘Oh, fuck, I forgot I had a gun!’ Tamara reached into the holster attached to her vest under her left arm. At the same moment the soldiers began to fire back.
