Path Of The Assassin

Hard was an understatement. Seconds later, they hit the dune at full speed. Shoulder belts dug into flesh and heads snapped forward, then came racing back. The steering wheel saved Avigliano, but DeWolfe was not as lucky. Despite his shoulder harness and helmet, he hit his head hard enough to be knocked unconscious. Carlson slammed his left shoulder against the fifty-caliber machine gun. After the HAHO jump and the beating he had taken at the hands of Adara Nidal’s guards, Harvath was sore all over, but no one area seemed to be any worse now than before the crash. He unbuckled himself from the basket and ran around the FAV to Meg who was already undoing her own straps.

“You okay?” asked Harvath.

“Aside from the fact that my rear end feels like I’ve been on a two-year trail ride, I guess I’m doing okay. My shoulders hurt like hell from that harness, though.”

“But nothing’s broken? You’re not bleeding?”

“No. No breaks. No bleeding.”

“Good. Let’s help the others.”

Harvath and Avigliano removed DeWolfe from the FAV, careful to support his neck and shoulders in case he had suffered any spinal trauma. Carlson got himself out of the FAV while Harvath hopped back in and tried to back the vehicle off of the sand dune.

The tires began to catch, but the right front wheel wasn’t responding. Harvath laid on the pedal a little heavier as Avigliano ran to his side of the vehicle. He signaled Harvath to take his foot off the gas while he examined the wheel.

“We snapped the CV shaft. This thing’s not going anywhere,” said Avigliano as he stood up and dusted the sand from his fatigues. He checked his GPS and continued, “Let’s get some cover, and I’ll call in Big John.”

No sooner had Avigliano spoken than a wall of bullets tore up the ground all around them.

Three of the Libyan Land Rovers had taken up positions above them, and the occupants were firing into the wadi with their 7.62s. Everyone took cover behind the ditched FAV.

“Is this any way to treat visitors to their country?” remarked Carlson.

Avigliano was already calling in Big John to their position.

“Big John is on his way. We just need to hold them until he gets here,” said Avigliano.

Meg, who had been taking a look at Carlson, said, “I think he’s got a broken collarbone.”

“I break bones. I don’t get mine broken,” said Carlson as Harvath slid over to him.

The minute Harvath applied pressure to Carlson’s left collarbone area, the pain was so intense the man almost blacked out.

“Well, bone crusher, this time you’re the breakee,” said Harvath as he instructed Meg on how to make up a sling for Carlson.

With DeWolfe still unconscious, that left only Harvath, Avigliano, and Meg to hold off what would soon be five Land Rovers full of Libyan soldiers.

Harvath swung out from behind the FAV with his Mod Zero and, setting the fire selector to single, took several well-aimed shots. Two Libyans, dumb enough to be standing in front of their Rovers looking down into the small canyon, were hit. Though their wounds might not have been fatal, it showed the rest of the soldiers that Harvath and his team were a force to be reckoned with.

It didn’t take the Libyans long to regroup. Soon, machine-gun fire rained down on them from both sides of the canyon. The other two Land Rovers had arrived and took up positions on the high ground on the other side of the wadi.

During a lull in the firing, Harvath unhinged the 7.62 from the back of the FAV. He would have liked to have taken down the fifty or the Mark 19, but it would have been too difficult. He grabbed as much ammo as he could, and when he let loose with it, all of the Libyans, on both walls of the wadi, ran for cover.

Avigliano called Big John for an ETA, but he was still twenty minutes out. According to an AWAC the U.S. had in the area, the team had bigger problems. Two Libyan helicopter gunships were en route to their position.

“Ah, Scot?” said Avigliano.

“I’m kinda busy, Gordo,” said Harvath as he let loose with another deafening volley from the 7.62 machine gun.

“We’re going to have company real soon,” said Avigliano once Harvath stopped to reload the 7.62.

“Animal, vegetable, or mineral?” asked Harvath as he readied new ammunition.

“Aerial. We’ve got an AWAC monitoring our situation. It looks like two Alouette helicopters.”

“Complete with twenty millimeter cannons, rocket pods, and surface-to-air missiles?” said Harvath as if it were a standard sight in the desert.

“Probably a good chance of that.”

“How far out?”

“Five minutes. Tops.”

“What did Carlson say when the Libyans first spotted us?”

“‘Fuck’?” asked Avigliano.

“Yeah, fuck.”

Harvath let loose with another long burst of fire along both sides of the ridge before turning back to Avigliano. “How’s DeWolfe?”

“He’s still out.”

“All right then. Here’s the deal. You and Meg are going to have to move him.”

“Move him? Move him where?”

Harvath took another glance around and found what he was looking for. “That outcropping. Twenty meters to our left. I’ll lay down cover fire for you. Once you’re there, you’ll be safe.”