Behind the next bend, Mike settled to one knee and waited his rifle sighted in. Tom was about to move when an AK fired. Dirt exploded off the wall into his face. He jerked back and lifted a hand up to his eyes. Muzzle pushed around the edge of the dirt wall he fired off a couple of rounds with his eyes closed, then jumped up, and sprinted. Dirt covered his face and eyes, one eye was shut the other red.

Tom passed Mike’s position and kept moving. The big guy was no sprinter, but a bullet in the back was a mighty incentive to move faster than Tom had ever run before. With Tom no longer in front of him, Mike waited the front sight post of his iron sight a blur his attention on the corner where Tom got dusted. One breath. Two breaths. Ten breaths. They were being careful or worse. No movement in front of him. He lifted up, turned, and sprinted. Soft sand alternated with hard-packed dirt on the wadi floor. The walls to each side were about ten feet high of solid sun-baked earth. It was all the same color inside, a light brown to tan dependent on whether it was in the shadows or exposed to the sun.

To his left front, Tom waited at the next twisting corner of the wadi. Halfway down the stretch of the canal, Tom lifted his rifle and fired past him. A man screamed. Now he was motivated by a bullet to the back and increased his speed, but the going was tough. His boots gripped the intermittent hard packed earth then sank and dragged into the sandy surface of the wadi’s bed.

As he sprinted past, Tom discharged his weapon once more. However, instead of a cry of pain, there was a sudden outburst of machine gun fire. The bullets hit the opposite end of the wadi wall, causing a cloud of dust and dirt to billow into the center of the wadi. Mike was nearing the next turn, he swiftly maneuvered around it, lowered himself to the ground, and readied his rifle. He closed his mouth and attempted to inhale air through his nostrils, trying to catch his breath. Still, as he took deep breaths, the barrel of his M-4 swayed up and down. The machine gun was spraying the area tearing up the walls and dry river bed. Sand and dirt kicked up into the air with each impact. The sharp high pitched machine gun and rifle fire echoed down the wadi. It was deafening. Tom's red eyes saw Mike in position, and he ran as fast as his feet could take him.

As Tom got closer, Mike stood and started running behind him. “Let’s get to the next turn.” He turned and followed Tom, who hadn’t broken stride.

The two men rounded the third corner of the dry canal. Crouched around the bend, Al held a knife out ready to use. Julia sat in a low squat, her back against the wall.

“How many magazines you got?” Mike said to Tom. He glanced at Julia. She had lost the panic-stricken look on her face, but she sure as shit wasn’t happy.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Just the one.” Tom patted the mag in his rifle. “Probably about fifteen rounds left.”

“Same, same.”

They were all breathing heavily. The adrenalin and heavy running were making their hearts and lungs work over time.

“Al.” Mike handed his rifle over, took Tom’s weapon, and put it in Al’s other hand.

“Cup your hands.” Mike pointed low towards Tom’s knees. “I want a look over the top.”

Tom hoisted him up. Two men were already up over the dry river system. He ducked down quickly. With his fingers, he motioned Al to give his rifle back. “Check around the corner.” Al nodded and moved.

He turned his head to Tom.“Keep me steady when you lift me up.”

“Roger.”

Back braced on the wadi’s wall, Tom lifted until Mike’s eyes crested the lip. He pulled his head back down. He’d acquired two men. They were only about fifty meters away. He pressed the butt of his rifle into his shoulder and looked down the sights. He took a half breath, held it, and lifted up. The rifle fired once, then twice, then a third time. The first Afghani fell and slid over the edge of the wadi into a section Mike and Tom had vacated. The other man fell where he was. After a moment, the man pulled himself to the edge and into the wadi. Both rifles had disappeared with their owners.

“I got two walking around the far corner.” Al paused. “Wait.” He lifted Tom’s rifle and fired one round. He stood and handed Tom his rifle. “We got to go.” He took Julia’s hand and pulled her up, his eyes on the expression on her face. His attention shifted toward Mike and Tom. “I missed, and I’m pretty sure they’re getting ready to bum rush us.” He coaxed Julia to start running. Mike and Tom followed, keeping a watch behind them.

At the next bend, Mike grabbed Al’s sleeve. He nodded to Tom. Tom took a knee facing the way they'd come.

“This isn’t going to work. We’re going to buy you a little time.” He glanced at Julia and then back at Al. “There’s probably two or three pickup trucks behind the ambush site.” Mike took a deep breath, trying to calm his breathing. “You and Julia circle around and try to find them. Circle wide and stay low. We’ll lead them away from you. When you get there, guard or no guard, grab a truck and get out of here. We’ll all meet up at the compound I showed you on the map.”

“I thought you said you weren’t sure about that guy.”

Mike shook his head. “I’m not sure about anything right now. There’s no way that ambush wasn’t for us. We got lucky.”

Julia asked in a hushed tone, "Lucky?"

"Indeed, lucky," he replied, his voice seething with anger, although not directed at her. He briefly acknowledged Julia with a nod before turning back to Al. "Now, hurry up and leave."

Julia looked up, her eyes widened in concern. "But how will you reach the compound?"

"Leave that to us. Just stick with Al," he replied, his tone laced with a deeper level of fury than she had ever heard before. "Now, get going."

Julia made eye contact, then turned and ran.

Al held out his hand. “Just in case.”

Mike took it. “Just in case.”

Al took off after Julia.

Mike kneeled next to Tom. “Anything?”

“I’ve seen some movement. They’re trying to figure out what to do since you messed up their plans by taking out their topside option.”

Mike looked back as Al ran out of sight.

“Ready for a run?”

“I hate running, but yes. So, what are we going to do?”

Mike snorted. “Fuck if I know.”