“Ethiopian military,” Rick grunted, moving towards the driver’s door.
“They’re here?”
“Scoped us out at Dungur with a drone. Must’ve put two and two together.” He climbed behind the wheel and shut the door. Hopkins and Estelle were still standing outside. “You wanna get in before they bomb us all to oblivion?”
Hopkins hurried to the other side and helped Estelle up into the Humvee, then followed after her. The three of them sat squished in the front, Estelle staring straight ahead and blinking as if coming out of a dream. Rick wanted to ask about Kai, demand to know how the hell he had gotten so chewed up, why the two of them didn’t look any worse for wear.
Instead he turned the Humvee around and aimed it back towards the gaping hole in the arena. “We’re driving through that?” Hopkins asked hoarsely, nodding towards the conflagration.
“You see another way out of here?” Rick started forward.
“Wait,” Estelle said, abruptly coming out of her daze. “Stop.”
“Lady, Kai is bleeding like a --”
“Stop!”
He slammed on the brakes, whipping around to glare at her so fast he gave himself whiplash. “What?!”
But she was already moving, clambering over Hopkins and pushing the door open to leap out. Rick could only gape as she hurried around the front of the Humvee to where a soldier was curled up on the ground. He vaguely recognized it as one of the men he’d nearly run over when he entered the arena.
“I’m leaving her,” Rick said.
“No you’re not,” Hopkins growled, grabbing the wheel before Rick could touch it.
Estelle had crouched over the man. A moment later she stood and returned to the Humvee, climbing in and over Hopkins. Her glasses were now on her face, the lenses smudged with soot.
“Seriously?” Rick asked incredulously.
She didn’t look at him. “We can go now.”
Shaking his head, Rick floored it. “You might want to duck. This part sucks.”
All three of them ducked beneath the dash and held their breath as they burst through the wall of flames, the heat licking at Rick’s skin and hair and clothes like a hungry animal. In another second they were free.
K’ebero’s camp had been almost completely destroyed, many of the shipping containers melted down to slag, a blazing crater where the tents and canopies had once been. The fire had spread to the large hill as well, climbing up its side and setting the dried vegetation ablaze. Thick smoke clogged the sky, blocking out what should have been a bright midday sun and turning the afternoon into twilight. Streaming away in all directions were the remnants of the Free Army, some in vehicles, many more on foot. Rick swerved around them, and no one attempted to stop them.
“What happened?” Estelle’s voice came out in a whisper, and the question seemed to be posed to the universe in general. Her eyes were wide behind her glasses as she surveyed the destruction.
“The good guys showed up,” Rick told her dryly.
She looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. “You came back.”
“Yeah.”
There was a pause as she seemed to consider that. Then: “Where’s Berhanu?”
“Dead. He lied about knowing where the Ark was. K’ebero found out, obviously, and wasn’t pleased.”
Estelle fell silent. Rick was aware of Hopkins glaring at him for his indelicacy, but he was beyond caring right now. Get Kai help. That was all he could focus on. “Hopkins. You have any field training?”
“What?”
“Medical.”
“Oh -- a little, yeah, basic --”
“Climb in back and keep my friend from bleeding to death, will you?”
Hopkins gaped at him for a moment, then nodded and climbed awkwardly over Estelle. Rick heard him grunt. “I’m not sure there’s much I can --”
“Well whatever it is that you can, just do it.”
Driving through the smoke was like navigating in a thick fog, and the missing windshield made it even worse. Rick’s lungs burned, gunk coating the back of his throat and clogging his nose. He had to constantly blink away tears and squint to avoid hitting a tree or rock, but he didn’t mind. It forced him to concentrate on something other than Kai. The smell, however, he could have done without. Of burning vegetation and oil and something far less pleasant, it filled the Humvee, making them all cough until Rick felt like he wanted to retch.
Then, quite suddenly, the air cleared. As if crossing some invisible barrier, the sun burst forth in a golden blaze and a fresh wind swept through the Humvee, washing it of the stink of fire and death. The road appeared dead ahead; Rick pulled onto it and headed south, towards Axum, to where they could join the highway and he could follow it out of Tigray and away from all this madness.
He only slowed once, and then only briefly, to do a double-take as they passed a low ridge where a saurian figure could be seen climbing to the highest point and raising its face towards the sun.
Twenty-Four
Simien Mountains
Tigray, Ethiopia
Night fell as they returned to the vast range of the Simien Mountains, following the highway southwest. With no windshield the bitter air crept into the Humvee, chilling them all to the bone despite the heat being cranked up to full blast. Rick didn’t mind -- it kept him focused, kept him awake -- but he was worried about what it might be doing to Kai.
“I’ve done all I can,” Hopkins said, half an hour out of Axum. “But he’s lost a lot of blood, and some of these wounds are probably infected. If he doesn’t get some real medical care soon…”
He left it at that, because there was nothing more to say. Rick knew very well how close to the edge Kai was right now, but to focus on that would only drive him insane. There was nothing he could do except keep the pedal to the floor and hope that Kai could hold on a little longer.
The next largest island of civilization amidst the mountains, Shire, was a three-hour drive from Axum. Between the two cities they encountered several small towns, none of which looked like they had full medical facilities. Most of them appeared to have been abandoned in the wake of fighting. The buildings stood dark, their windows like vacant eye sockets. The cone of the Humvee headlights revealed only stray dogs scampering down side alleys and gelada baboons hurrying nimbly across slack powerlines. Rick could only hope Shire was in better shape.
He drove, lulled into a hypnagogic state by the endless road. With Hopkins sitting in back to watch over Kai and Estelle asleep in the passenger seat, it felt like he was the only human left on Earth. Like the dark road would never end, the black horizon never give way to city lights or even the sun. Beneath the deep chill of the wind, Rick could feel how exhausted he was. The gouge in his shoulder, the various bruises and scrapes, were catching up to him, aches and pains accumulating to make his brain want nothing more than to shut down and sleep for the next sixteen hours. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d gotten a decent night’s sleep. His eyelids were heavy and felt like they had chips of glass beneath them.
He drove.
The road suddenly burst with light. For a moment Rick blinked at it, certain he was hallucinating or else had fallen asleep. Then the pool of bright white light began to widen, and a dark shape dropped down onto the pavement. He slammed on the brakes, sending Estelle crashing forward into the dashboard.
“What the hell--?!” Hopkins began.
“Helicopter,” Rick croaked.
The chopper had landed perhaps a quarter of a mile down the road, its rotors still loudly slicing the air. Red running lights winked in the darkness. Hopkins leaned forward to stare between Rick and Estelle, who had recovered and was adjusting her glasses.
“Is it K’ebero?” she asked, voice fraught.
Nobody answered.
A square of softer light opened up in the side of the helicopter, revealing figures seated inside. One of them stepped out, and above the sound of the rotors they heard an amplified voice: “Please
step out of the vehicle!”
“Rebels don’t usually bother with please,” Rick pointed out. Gently he tapped the accelerator, nudging the Humvee forward.
The response was immediate. “Please turn off your vehicle and step out onto the road! Do not advance any closer or you will be fired upon!”
“I think you should listen to them,” Hopkins said.
That was the last thing he wanted to do right now. Even if those weren’t K’ebero’s people out there, that didn’t mean they were his friends. But that chopper was also Kai’s best chance at getting the help he needed before it was too late.
Rick hit the ignition button, and the Humvee fell silent, so that the only sound came from the helicopter. “Let’s see how much worse this day can get,” he muttered, opening his door and stepping outside. He left the pistol in the Humvee. The clip was empty, anyways.
After being exposed to the wind for so long, the still night air felt positively balmy. Estelle and Hopkins exited the Humvee after him. “Please approach the helicopter with your hands raised and visible,” the voice called.
Rick glanced at the other two. All three of them exchanged a shrug, then lifted their arms simultaneously and began to walk forward.
“There’s an injured man in the vehicle,” Rick shouted, walking at a steady pace. The voice didn’t respond; either they couldn’t hear him above the rotors, or they didn’t care.
Halfway between the Humvee and the chopper a light was swung around on them, forcing Rick to lower his head and watch his feet tread pavement. “Continue to walk forward,” came the instructions.
They walked for several minutes, until the voice shouted, “Halt!” Rick stopped, glancing up. They were standing a few meters from the helicopter, the backwash from the rotors swirling around them. The man standing outside it was decked out in full military kit, with a helmet clearly bearing the mark of the Ethiopian National Defense Force. That gave him a modicum of relief.
The soldier closed the gap between them. When he next spoke it was in a normal voice, albeit raised to be heard above the rotors. “What are your names?”
Rick, Estelle, and Hopkins glanced at each other. The FBI agent spoke first. “Booker Hopkins. I’m a Special Agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Of America,” he added stupidly. If the soldier found this at all odd, it didn’t show on his stoic face.
“Estelle Kingston,” she said next. “I’m -- I’m an employee of Radical Dynamics.”
The soldier turned to Rick. He was too tired to choose an alias. “Rick Álvarez. Freelancer. My partner Kai Villeneuve is in the back of that Humvee.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “He’s badly injured.”
To Rick’s surprise and immense relief, the soldier nodded once, then turned and called to the figures seated inside the helicopter. Two of them jumped out, bearing a collapsible stretcher, and hurried towards the Humvee.
“We had intel,” the soldier said, turning back to the group. “Of civilians who had been captured by the NPAFE.”
“That’s us,” Rick said. Vaguely he wondered where that intel had come from.
“What are you doing in Tigray?”
“Sightseeing.” He hadn’t meant to be irreverent, but the quip had just come tumbling from his mouth. The soldier, however, either believed him or wasn’t too bothered with ascertaining the truth right now.
“We can take you to Gondar, to the military base there.”
Rick didn’t like the sound of that. “Isn’t Shire closer?”
The soldier shook his head, gear rattling. “Can’t let you stay in Tigray.” He paused. “Not actually sure how you crossed the border in the first place. But they’ll ask you all about that in Gondar.”
“My partner --”
“Will be taken care of,” the soldier said, nodding over Rick’s shoulder. He turned to see the two other soldiers trotting back towards the helicopter, bearing Kai on a stretcher between them. He barely had time to glimpse the strips of fabric Hopkins had used as improvised bandages before they loaded him into the chopper.
The three of them boarded next. It was even less spacious than the UN VTOL, with a total of four soldiers crammed into the cabin and two pilots up front. The soldiers offered up their seats to Rick, Estelle, and Hopkins, while Kai was laid out in the rear cargo space. Rick took the offered seat, buckling in as the door slid shut, slightly muffling the noise of the rotors. A moment later they began take-off, the cabin lights dying to a red glow. It wasn’t a gentle ascent, but Rick was willing to sacrifice comfort for speed.
“How did you find us?” Hopkins asked, as the chopper banked sharply.
The same soldier they’d spoken to shrugged. He was standing with his back to the bulkhead, gripping a strap that hung from the ceiling. “After the strike on the NPAFE base, we had drones tracking all vehicles heading out. The others were clearly making for some rally point. Yours wasn’t. With the intel of captured civilians, we made the connection.”
“So that’s it, then? The rebels are finished?”
The soldier cracked a grim grin, the first sign of emotion he’d shown. “It’s never finished. Not until you’ve flipped every stone and stomped out the last roach.”
Rick’s attention was focused on the rear of the chopper, where one of the soldiers -- clearly a trained medic -- was fussing over Hopkins’ shoddy handiwork, cleaning the wounds and replacing the strips of fabric with clean bandages. He’d been listening, though, and couldn’t help but respond. “Yeah, about that. Next time, maybe look where you’re stomping.”
“You weren’t supposed to be there,” the soldier said, sounding defensive.
“Oh, well, that’s ok then. So long as I’m only accidentally blown up.”
“Why were you in that camp?”
Nobody answered. Rick was certain none of them would have the luxury of silence once they reached Gondar and were treated to a more rigorous debrief, but for now he intended to fully enjoy that luxury. He watched the medic hook Kai up to an emergency IV, the bag hanging from a hook in the ceiling, then closed his eyes and tried to get comfortable. It seemed like a hopeless endeavor, and yet he was asleep within minutes.
* * *
Just over an hour later, they landed at Atse Tewodros Airport. There was, apparently, no actual military base in Gondar; instead, a temporary FOB had been set up at the airport, consisting of several prefabricated shelters beside the tarmac, which had been completely taken over by the military. From here, according to their escorts, a portion of operations into Tigray were organized and launched.
Rick, Estelle, and Booker were met on the tarmac by a pair of MPs in a jeep and shuttled to the FOB. Kai, meanwhile, was flown immediately to the University of Gondar Hospital, the helicopter bouncing back into the air the moment the three of them had disembarked. He would be given the best care in Ethiopia, according to the soldier who addressed Rick. When, or even if, they would be allowed to join him wasn’t made clear. Nobody seemed concerned about addressing their immediate future.
Medical personnel looked over each of them, tending to the worst of their wounds. Antiseptic salves and painkillers were applied, liquid bandages painted over their cuts and scrapes. Fragments of glass were removed from Rick’s shoulder and the wound was cleaned, sealed, and bandaged. A portable CT scanner declared that none of them had suffered any serious internal injuries. After that they were taken to a nondescript room that might have served as barracks or a brig, depending on the day, given water and food a step above MREs, and told to sit and wait. Someone would be by shortly to tend to them, whatever that meant.
The moment the door closed Rick began to pace, his intense eyes casting about the room as if they could burn a hole through the wall. Estelle was mildly impressed by his energy. She found herself an empty bed -- more of a cot, really -- and stretched out on it. It wasn’t comfortable, but her exhausted body didn’t seem to notice. She removed her glasses -- their battery was long dead -- and closed her eyes.
It felt like s
he was coming away from a dream, for the first time since being captured by K’ebero and the rebels. The memory of the last forty-eight hours was already fading, images that had once been so vivid and terrifying trickling from her mind like thin watercolors. Even the arena, with the aviraptor, barely felt real. How could it be, considering the fantastical things that had happened there? If she had opened her eyes and found herself back in her Parisian apartment, having awoken from a long, strange nap, Estelle wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised.
The only thing that made it real was Berhanu, and the stab of pain she felt when thinking of him. Dead, Rick had said. Dead because he lied to K’ebero. Estelle had only known him for a few days, but he’d been the closest thing to a friend she’d had since arriving in Ethiopia. A solid, somehow intimate connection to her father and his secret life. The knowledge that he was gone still cut like a knife’s edge. She could tell from the tone of Rick’s voice that he had thought the curator’s sacrifice had been a foolish one, if he’d thought much about it at all. Estelle wasn’t sure if she agreed.
You would’ve rather died than let someone like her get the Ark. Hopefully it hadn’t been in vain.
“Rick,” she said, speaking for the first time in what felt like ages.
“Yeah.” He didn’t stop pacing; she could hear his footsteps going back and forth.
“What happened to K’ebero? How did you escape?”
“Brought Dungur down on top of her.”
Estelle opened her eyes, sitting up to stare at him. “What?”
“The ruins.” He didn’t look at her as he spoke, only continued to pace. His voice was sharp, impatient, as if she should have known all this already. “There was a chamber, underground. Berhanu said the Ark was stashed down there. We went down with K’ebero. She found out he’d lied. I managed to collapse the chamber and crawl out through a -- I don’t know, an old sewage tunnel or something.”
“I wonder if that’s what Berhanu meant for you to do,” she said thoughtfully.
Rick snorted. “Doubtful. He didn’t seem to have much of a plan.”
A Covenant of Thieves Page 42
