Armageddon Read Free

we passed were. They can’t be more than a half-mile.”
    “God, Jeff, it’ll take me forever to swim a half-mile. They’ll get you.”
    “Get going then.”
    “Come with me.”
    “If we both go, they’ll just follow in the boat. Besides, I can’t get ashore.”
    “I’ll carry you.”
    “Just fuckin’ go, Bree. Now!” He pushed her away awkwardly, holding the pistol, still in its plastic bag, up out of the water.
    The look she gave him wounded him as badly as any bullet, but she ducked down beneath the water, stroking away. Zen pulled himself up against the rock, waiting to see what the men on the shore would do next.
     
    SAHURAH PUT HIS HAND TO HIS FOREHEAD, SHADING HIS eyes. The two tourists were huddled at the edge of the cove, foolishly thinking it would protect them.
    They had rehearsed this. The next steps were easy.
    “Abdul, go through the trees and then to the first rock. Do not go into the water.” It was necessary to tell the Yemen this because he was a very simple man. “When you see that we have them, come back and meet Fallah at the edge of the beach, there”
    Sahurah pointed to the eastern edge of the protected area. “Fallah, you will guard that side, in case they attempt to swim away. You may shoot them, but only if they are more than ten meters from us. Ten meters, you understand?”
    “Of course.”
    Adi looked at him expectantly. The motorboat was now approaching, moving toward the beach at a good clip, precisely as planned.
    “You and I will go in the boat,” Sahurah told the short one. “We will have to wade. Make sure the weapon does not get wet. If they do not come easily we will need it.”
     
    BREANNA PULLED THROUGH THE WATER, PROPELLED BY HER fury. She was angry at Zen for sending her away, angrier still at whomever it was who was trying to kidnap or rob them.
    Brunei was a paradise; how could this happen here?
    The houses they had seen were no more than a mile away: 1,600 meters. One of her events in high school.
    She’d never finished higher than third in it.
    Breanna continued her stroke, falling into the rhythm, willing away everything, even her anger, as she plunged through the water.
    *   *   *
    ZEN WATCHED AS THE BOAT CUT ITS ENGINES AND DRIFTED toward the shore. The thugs on the beach had rolled up their pants and started to wade out. One of them had a largish rifle, possibly a machine-gun like the M249 or Belgium Minimi, a squad-level weapon that fired 5.56-millimeter ammunition from magazines or belts, which could be held in a plastic box-like container clipped beneath the chamber area just ahead of the trigger.
    They moved almost lackadaisically, obviously not seeing him as much of a threat. More than likely they didn’t know he had a gun.
    The closer they got, the better his chances at hitting them with the pistol. On the other hand, the closer they got, the more difficult it would be to swim away.
    But that wasn’t an option. They had a boat. He’d never outswim it in the open water. Nor would there be much chance of surprising them from the sea.
    His goal wasn’t to escape. It was to distract them long enough that Breanna could escape. He would let them get close, then take out as many of them as possible. He’d target the man with the machine-gun first.
     
    SAHURAH PUT HIS HAND DOWN ON THE GUNWALE OF THE speedboat as it came next to him in the water, trying to steady it before he pulled himself over the side. His ancestors had been fishermen, but Sahurah himself disliked boats; no matter how big, they seemed flimsy and unprotected against the awful power of the sea.
    The two men in the boat looked at him with puzzled expressions, but did not speak. Unlike the others, the men who had been selected from the boat were Indonesians with a limited command of Malaysian and no knowledge of Arabic; he had to use English so they would understand.
    “There has been a change in plans,” he told them, grabbing onto the back of one of the seats. “The people we