“Understood, boss.”
Rodriguez then took out a large handgun and pointed it at Aliana. If she’d known anything about weapons, she’d have known that it was a Smith and Wesson .500 Magnum, the most powerful production handgun in existence. Recently advertised as the weapon of choice as, “A Hunting Handgun for any Game Animal,” due to its ability to take down an elephant at a reasonable distance.
Aliana didn’t need to know that, though. She saw Rodriguez’s cheery face and knew that he meant business. “Now, we can do this my way, or the hard way. Frankly, I don’t mind my women difficult. They all come around, soon enough, even the rich ones, with enough incentive.”
Aliana didn’t want to give him any chance to physically display his power over her. She stepped up into the large Mercedes 6x6. Rodriguez followed after her and, taking out a pair of cable ties, locked her wrists together.
“Nothing personal, dear, but I can’t have you causing me trouble while I’m driving. You understand, it’s just not safe.”
She said nothing, and Rodriguez started back the way he came.
Aliana took one last look at the buried land behind her, where the man she loved had disappeared.
Chapter Twenty One
Tom drove down the dry, corrugated, dirt road into Barmah National Park. It had taken him slightly longer than he’d expected, but at least he wouldn’t be an obvious target since leaving the Super Huey in Echuca. Driving along the edge of the Murray-Darling River, Tom pulled off the beaten road, and into the rough scrub, towards where he’d left his friends. On the horizon, two large dust clouds reached for the sky. They were most likely four wheel drives, heading off to go hunting in the kangaroo filled dusk.
He followed his GPS until it assured him he was at the right spot.
There was nothing around. Admittedly, there was very little around when he’d left, but now he couldn’t see any remnants of the hole that James had created when he blew an entrance to the river below.
He parked the old Holden Utility about twenty feet from where he was certain the hole had been when he left, and then got out of the car. It was approaching dusk, and the sullen color of the sky played tricks on people.
Tom checked his hand-held GPS again, and confirmed he was in the right spot. He then stepped over the ground and noticed that the sand was soft, as though recently disturbed.
Up ahead, he noticed the deep four-wheel drive tracks in the sand.
He then recalled the dust clouds on the horizon as he drove in — Rodriguez’s men!
There wasn’t much time.
Tom grabbed a shovel and started digging.
He’d dug no more than a foot before hitting something solid, with a loud clank. Steel — someone had laid a steel frame over the remains of the hole and then backfilled it with sand to make it look like nothing had ever happened.
If they’d gone to the lengths to do so, Tom had a fair idea why.
He ran back to the Utility, and ran a twenty-foot chain from his tow bar to the steel covering, running a hook through an attachment point.
Then ran back to his vehicle and floored its old, and powerful, V8 engine.
His tires slipped in the soft soil, and then caught, and the entire steel plate, along with sand on top, pulled away.
Tom pulled over and ran back.
Where Sam and James were clawing their way back up the hole in the ground.
James grinned through the dirt on his grubby face, and said, “What took you so long, Tom? We’ve got work to do.”
Sam jumped into the driver’s side of the car. Not waiting to fill Tom in with what had happened, he said, “They’ve got a twenty-minute head start on us, and they’ve got Aliana.”
“Shuffle over son, I’ll drive,” James said, pushing his way in front of the steering wheel, forcing Sam to slide further down the old bench seat.
“Whatever… let’s just go,” Sam replied, urgently.
James had his foot down, testing just how fast the old muscle car could go. In the wide-open, desolate land, the poor handling and poor cornering didn’t matter. The powerful V8 was in its prime, and the car quickly sped up to 65 miles per hour and on to 80.
They were following the only other tracks in the otherwise barren land.
By the time it was dark outside, they could see the tail lights of a car up ahead. The car seemed to be travelling at a normal speed, probably comforted in the knowledge that they had already won the battle.
“Say, Sam, do you have a plan what we’re going to do when we catch up to these guys, or do you just want to wing it?”
“I’m all for winging it. Dad, if you can get closer, then start to overtake the car, and then swerve into its rear left axle, we might just send that top-heavy truck onto its roof. Then, the three of us jump out and kill whoever’s driving, while he’s still confused about what happened — and save the girl.” Sam looked at his father who said nothing, but looked like he’d raised an idiot. “What, you have a better idea? We didn’t bring any weapons, and it’s not like we’ve time to go back and get them.”
“As a matter of fact, son. I do.” James then looked at Tom and asked, “Did you leave that wooden box in the back of the cargo tray?”
“Yeah, why?”
“See if the two of you can climb back there and open it.”
“What’s in it?” Sam asked.
“Open it up, I’m sure you’ll know what to do with them.”
Sam began following Tom, who had climbed out through the passenger window, over the roof and into the cargo tray behind. When he was half way out, the left front tire struck something, hard — sending the car violently swerving towards the left, where it fishtailed for a hundred or so feet and then kept going.
His hand clutching onto the roof like a vice, he held on long enough for the centrifugal force to stop, and then he was flung back inside as James regained control.
“Next time, a little warning would be nice.”
“See what I can do, but no promises, son.”
Sam quickly climbed into the back of the utility, where he found Tom grinning like a kid who’d just discovered his father’s firecrackers.
“What is it, Tom?”
“Well, in a country with severe restrictions on firearms, your father managed to bring these with him — just in case,” Tom said, opening the wooden box.
“Holy shit!
Inside were two M9 bazookas, an M60 machine gun, and a large sawn-off shotgun.
“What does Dad want us to do, blow Aliana up?” Sam then tapped on the back window and said, “Hey, did you bring anything here that we can actually use?”
“Hey, I thought you two were a couple of old boy scouts — I brought the hardware, you decide what you want to do with it.”
“All right, all right… just get us a little closer, and then hold us steady.”
Sam then picked up the M9.
“Are you kidding me? That thing has an armor piercing head, designed to take out a tank. I thought you liked this girl?”
“Don’t worry, I have no intention of hitting their vehicle. Now load me.”
Behind him, Tom fed the 2.36 inch rocket into its back and armed the weapon. “You’re good.”
Sam looked through the cross hairs of the bazooka’s telescope, aimed, and squeezed the firing trigger.
A large plume of orange flame gushed from the back of the rocket, as it hurled towards the Mercedes up ahead.
Missing the vehicle by half a foot, the rocket found its target — a large rock up in front and to the left of the truck.