The sunlight was fading fast, and the lights were on in the main tent. The army men were changing shifts, and about a dozen soldiers made their way into the tent, seeking their evening meal.
Outside, Peyton thought she heard a faint popping noise, like an air rifle. Jonas glanced at the flaps leading out of the tent. He had heard it too. Together, they walked to the opening. Just beyond the camp’s perimeter, two helicopters kicked up dust from the dry terrain as they landed.
A moment later, a dozen figures emerged from the red dust cloud. They wore black body armor and held assault rifles before them. Two of Colonel Magoro’s men fell as bullets struck them.
Peyton heard Jonas yell, “Contact! Intruders!”
Around her, the camp erupted in chaos.
Chapter 33
The first shots were deadly. The Kenyan troops dedicated to protecting Peyton, Jonas, and their team fell in waves as the invading soldiers advanced. In seconds, half of Colonel Magoro’s men were dead. Bullets ripped through the white tent complex. Return fire shredded the thatched-roof huts of the village.
“Run!” Magoro yelled. “Get to the trucks and go!”
But instead of running away from the tent complex, Peyton ran back into it, to the biocontainment room where the three survivors from the Kenyan village were looking on with fear. She opened the room and pointed away from the camp.
“Go. Hide, like before. Don’t come out until one of us comes for you.”
Peyton felt a hand clamp around her bicep. She turned to see Jonas, panic in his eyes. “Peyton, we need to go.”
Together, they ran toward the three Toyota SUVs parked on the outskirts of the camp. Hannah was ahead of them, already halfway there. She ran in the open, gunfire sounding all around her. Soft pops from the attackers’ suppressed weapons interrupted the automatic rifle reports from Magoro’s men. Bullets raked across the first two SUVs, carving a line of holes in their sides and shattering windows.
“Make for the last one!” Jonas called out.
Peyton put her head down and ran for her life. Her heart pounded in her chest, a bass drum out of tune with the symphony of death the rifles played.
A scream ahead—a woman’s voice. Peyton looked up in time to see Hannah fall. Blood instantly flowed from the young physician. Peyton was at her side in seconds, kneeling, inspecting the gunshot wound in her shoulder. Tears filled Hannah’s eyes, but she was already pushing back up, her teeth gritted. Peyton wrapped an arm around her, and they rushed to the SUV, where Jonas held the back door open.
He slammed it shut when they were inside and yelled, “Stay down!”
He got in the driver’s seat, cranked the SUV, and floored it.
An explosion rocked the tent complex, sending white canvas and red dirt into the air. Remnants of the blast rained down on the SUV like hail.
Jonas was making for the main road away from the village, pushing the vehicle to its limits. It stormed along the rutted road, bouncing, each violent movement bringing a scream from Hannah. Peyton wrapped one arm around her neck, the other around her side, and pulled her student on top of her, trying to cushion her. Their faces were together now, and Peyton could feel Hannah’s tears flowing down her own face, the salty taste touching her lips. Above them, a bullet shattered the back window, spraying tiny bits of glass. Peyton covered Hannah’s face with her hands.
More bullets struck the side of the SUV, a few at first, then a full barrage.
“Hang on!” Jonas yelled.
The SUV turned sharply, bounced twice, then powered ahead, the engine screaming.
A deafening explosion rocked the vehicle, tossing it into the air. Peyton felt herself float for a second. The sensation was sickening, like the moment at the summit of a roller coaster, before it begins its rapid descent.
The SUV crashed to the ground on the driver’s side, throwing Peyton and Hannah’s intertwined bodies into the ceiling and then depositing them in a crumpled mass against the side wall. When the sound of twisting metal and breaking glass stopped, Peyton heard Hannah screaming at the top of her lungs.
Up front, Jonas unsnapped his seat belt and reached for the passenger side glovebox, which was now above him. He popped it open, took out a handgun, and pulled the slide back, chambering a round.
“No, Jonas!” Peyton cried out, but it was too late. He stood, his feet on the driver’s-side door, his head and shoulders poking out through the passenger side window, which was now on the top of the SUV. He began firing, but only got three rounds out before automatic gunfire erupted, ripping into him, his red blood spattering the seats. He fell, and the gun dropped from his hand into the back seat, within Peyton’s reach.
Hannah cried and shook, the pain clearly overwhelming her. Peyton wrapped her arms around her while she eyed the gun.
A second later, the SUV’s back gate swung open. Hands reached inside and dragged the two women out.
Chapter 34
Desmond stared at his legs. For the first time since he had woken up in that hotel room in Berlin, he knew how he had gotten the scars. The memory had left him wanting to know more. At the moment, however, he had a more pressing issue: escaping his makeshift cell.
He lay on his back and listened for a few minutes, hoping for any clues about where he was or who might be around. But the barn was completely quiet, the other stalls apparently empty.
He looked around for something he could use as a weapon. His best option was to pry one of the rebar rods free. He moved around the cell, studying the bases of the rods, searching for a weak link. He settled on a rod on the left wall, then swept his hands across the floor, searching for anything he could use to dig with. He found a rock that was almost two inches long, and went to work scraping the dirt aside.