Blood Trust - Eric van Lustbader [98]
The first to present themselves to Thatë’s men were three guerillas. He kept Alli beside him as he used hand signals. Three of his men nodded and melted into the darkness. They returned soon enough with trophies: AK-47s, daggers, and a satellite phone. Not a sound had been uttered. The band moved on. Alli saw the three guerillas sprawled on the ground, their throats slit. Their blood glittered black in the starlight.
* * *
“THERE HE is.”
Paull’s whisper came to Jack along with the other night noises.
“We could go around him,” Jack pointed out.
“We can’t go around them all.”
They were crouched in the protection of a clump of underbrush. The guerilla was outlined against the starlight. To his right was a ridge, black as a pit. To his left were lights at the outskirts of Tetovo.
Paull scrambled off and Jack put down his assault rifle, shrugged off his backpack and camouflage jacket. Then he ducked out into the starlight, came around a bend and, seeing the guerilla, continued on.
The guerilla, for his part, came immediately alert and brought his AK-47 down to the ready position.
Jack stopped several feet in front of the guerilla and said, “Më falni, unë jam I humbur.” Excuse me, I’m lost.
“Ju jeni shqiptare?” the guerilla asked with a good deal of suspicion. You’re Albanian?
“Lindur dhe rritur atje, por e biznesit tim është këtu.” Born and raised there, but my business is here.
The guerilla nodded. “Ku jeni drejtuar?” Where are you headed?
“Ozomiste.”
The guerilla laughed. “Ju mori një kthesë shumë të gabuar, shoku im.” You took a very wrong turn, my friend.
He pointed to the east, a direction behind Jack. As he did so, Paull, stealing up behind him, jerked his chin up, exposing the neck, which he slit. The guerilla’s eyes rolled up in his head and he slid to the ground.
Ten minutes later, after spotting and skirting two groups of guerillas, they came within sight of the schoolhouse and began to set up shop.
“You’ll have to watch out for those groups,” Paull said. “Once we start firing, they’re bound to be drawn to this spot.”
“I’ll be ready.” Jack pulled out the shoulder rocket launcher and loaded it.
When Paull was set up, he called Thatë to give him the signal to go ahead. Then he manned the machine gun he’d set on its tripod and waited for Thatë’s call.
* * *
THE MOMENT Thatë got off the sat phone, he signaled his men forward. They spread out in a rough semicircle as they slipped through the trees. Keeping to the shadows, they approached the rear of the schoolhouse. Along the way, five of Xhafa’s men were overpowered and killed without them opening their mouths. There were more in the woods, of this Thatë had no doubt, which was why he now widened the cordon of his men. He had only six men, plus Alli, but he was ready to pit any one of them against two or even three of the guerillas.
There was another knot of guerillas lounging around the back door, talking and telling jokes. Two of them were dozing. Thatë signaled his men, then unhooked Alli’s backpack and took her assault rifle from her. She unbuttoned her shirt and pushed the waistband of her trousers lower around her narrow hips, exposing her midriff.
“How’s this?”
He fluttered his hand back and forth. “It will have to do.” Then, in response to her scowl, he gave her a big grin.
“You’ll do fine. Don’t worry, okay?” he whispered. “We have your back.”
She nodded.
“Are you frightened?”
“I think so.” In fact, her heart seemed about to explode through her chest.
He laughed soundlessly. “That’s the right answer. So am I.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Time.”
Alli appeared in the light, weaving slightly. The guerillas saw her and she began to sing “Gimme Shelter.” She was close to them, under their scrutiny and their guns when she got to the chorus.
“‘War, children, it’s just a shot away, shot away…’”
Just as Thatë predicted, their eyes were