Chapter 22
MARCH 28, EARLY MORNING
FRANK HAD QUICKLY GATHERED NINETEEN men, and Rex moved out and around the ambush during the storm. Circling around it, he had headed toward the village only to suddenly be fired on by some kind of ordnance from well behind the ambush lines. Damn that Adrian, he thought. The bastard had left a backup group and they had spotted him and his men. Sixteen of his men were brutally mowed down. He and the other three took off running before they could be fired on again.
Once past the secondary skirmish line, Rex stopped and took stock. He knew pursuit would only be minutes behind. “Frank, take these three men and head out in any direction away from the village. You men are on your own now. I suggest you get as far away from here as you can, and if you’re smart, you’ll all go in different directions. If I see any of you again, I’ll kill you. Stay away from the village; I don’t want any interference. Now get going!”
Without a backward glance, Rex headed east as fast as he could. When he had placed enough distance between him and any pursuers, he found a pile of downed trees and crawled inside them to rest. I’ve got Adrian where I want him. He won’t stay in the village knowing I’m out here. It’s just a matter of time before I locate and capture him, and then the fun begins. Rex’s hand unconsciously stroked his “Adrian Bag” while he hid. He remained there a full twenty-four hours, resting up, thinking and planning.
When he was ready to move, he crawled out of the blow down and carefully looked around. Opening his bag, he removed the crossbow and began assembling it. “Adrian is in for a big surprise, and not a happy one,” he said out loud. Then he began laughing.