Secret Soldier Read Online Free Page B

but it didn’t help much. Abigail looked down on her own identical attire, which was roasting her alive.
    She’d worn black to her wedding.
    It should have told anyone who cared to pay attention how she felt about this very special occasion.
    She turned west, where the sun was dipping behind the mountains at last. Cool night air couldn’t come fast enough, although she didn’t feel all that comfortable being on the road after dark. She didn’t cherish the thought of breaking her neck, or some other body part, when the Jeep hit a pothole. She kept her eyes on the road, squinting when a swirl of rising dust in the distance caught her attention. It seemed to move toward them.
    “What’s that?”
    Gerald leaned forward. “Army trucks.” He didn’t seem to be worried.
    Thank God, Leila and her brother had come along. Westerners were common in the bigger cities, but out in the country, mistrust of them still ran high. They were sure to be stopped, their papers examined. But at least Abdul could vouch for them. She hoped they wouldn’t be held up long. Night was fast approaching.
    The vehicles were close enough now to count-four open-bed army trucks, their backs filled with men. They came to a dusty halt and blocked the road. A handful of men jumped off the first vehicle, some with rifles, some with machine guns. A man got out of the cab, better dressed and better fed than the rest, wearing a military uniform, a once-white turban covering his head.
    Gerald brought the Jeep to a slow stop and called out a respectful greeting.
    “Get out,” the man ordered in a strange dialect.
    She didn’t like the way he was looking at them. And she really, really didn’t want to get out of the car. Not that the Jeep could save them. They might be able to outrun the trucks, but they couldn’t outrun the bullets.
    With unhurried motions, Gerald stepped onto the sand and moved a couple of feet away from the vehicle. She followed his example. On the other side of the car, Abdul and Leila did the same.
    More men came off the trucks then, some surrounding them, some going through the Jeep. They were thin to the last man, their mismatched, worn clothes hanging on them, their scraggly beards not quite covering their hollow cheeks. Nobody asked for papers.
    “Bandits,” Gerald whispered.
    She sucked in her breath. According to the villagers, the bandits who controlled the mountains did not come into the desert as far as the road thatled to Tukatar. Had hunger forced them to stray from their territory?
    She watched as the bandits unloaded the food they had purchased in town. The bundles quickly disappeared into the back of the army trucks.
    The raggedy group looked hungry and wild. Not much distinguished them from the army troops that rode through the villages from time to time. The bandits stole from the army as much as from anyone else. Most of the men had at least one part of some uniform on them. Because the army could scarcely afford to keep its soldiers in new uniforms, they were also dressed in a blend of military and civilian clothing. Since provisions were scarce, even army troops were often forced to seize food and supplies from the general population.
    She hoped Gerald was wrong and the small group in front of them was a renegade army unit. Soldiers might take everything, but would probably leave their lives. Bandits were more likely to massacre them and leave them for the buzzards. If they were lucky.
    She listened as Abdul negotiated with the men in rapid-fire Arab. She caught enough to get the gist of the conversation.
    They wanted the women.
    Oh, God. She grabbed onto the back of Gerald’s shirt.
    “No,” he said firmly.
    A dozen guns were immediately aimed at them.
    One of the men headed for Leila. Abdul stepped in front of her and took his rifle off his back. Everybody shouted at once, both the bandit leader and Abdul gesturing wildly. Abdul leveled his rifle, shouted something and put his finger on the trigger. The