Eighteen Wheel Avenger. William W. Johnstone

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ procedure for Frenchy and Ready to get to Kirtland?”

      “Plane. Get them out to Stapleton by eight o’clock. I know how you are about that truck of yours. Just get down there in twenty-four hours. They’ll use that time to familiarize themselves with the regular SST tractors. Orders will be forthcoming. See you.”

      The connection was broken.

      Frenchy and Barry had to get Ready drunk before he’d even discuss getting on a plane.

      “I hate planes. I don’t trust planes. I don’t like planes. And I ain’t gettin’ on no damn airplane!”

      Finally Barry put in a call to Jackson. Jackson was out, but Weston was in. Barry explained the situation.

      When Weston was through cussing, he said, “IIang on. I’ll get an Air Force plane. Get him drunk as a skunk and pour him in the plane.”

      Barry waved bye-bye and got a taxi back to his motel. He paid up, checked out, and hit the road. It was about four hundred and fifty miles to Kirtland.

      He looked over at Dog, sitting in the seat. “You ready, boy?”

      Dog growled.

      Dog and Dog hit the road.

      It wasn’t long before Barry realized he’d picked up a tail. And his followers weren’t trying to be secretive about it. They were on his donkey and wanted him to know it.

      He was running empty, and the big Kenworth could practically fly if Barry wanted to pedal the metal; but with a smile on his face, he decided to see just what his followers had in mind.

      Long before he got to Colorado Springs, Barry had picked up his pace car, and like the car following him, the car in front had three men in it.

      From the quick looks he’d gotten, none of the six looked real friendly. Barry decided he’d wait for a particularly desolate stretch of road, between Pueblo and Walsenburg, before making any moves. He wished his followers would open the dance. Then he could slap one off the road with a clear conscience.

      As it now stood, he was ten percent unsure the two cars held people who had unkind thoughts toward him. And unlike terrorists, he did not wish to be responsible for the deaths of innocents.

      Coming out of Pueblo, rolling south, Barry listened to his CB. No Bears in sight and none had been spotted on the fifty-mile stretch between Pueblo and Walsenburg.

      Barry decided to make his move.

      He swung over in the left lane and let the big Kenworth howl; the 350 NTC Cummins kicked in hard and Barry blew past the Ford car. Barry caught a quick glimpse of three startled faces.

      He also caught a glimpse of what looked to be an M-16 on the rear seat; the lone passenger in the back with a hand on the weapon.

      Barry stayed in the left lane and switched on his scanner. The red light danced left and right and back and forth before finally settling on channel 2.

      “What the hell’s he doing?” came the excited voice.

      “Don’t know. But I think he’s made us.”

      “What next?”

      “Do we take him out?” a third voice came in.

      “Yes. No more talk. Take him.”

      The red light again began its frantic racing. Barry clicked off the scanner and got ready.

      He didn’t have a long wait. He checked his mirrors. The two dark sedans were all that he could see behind him. Nothing in front of him.

      “Come on, assholes!” Barry muttered. “Let’s do it.”

      This was the very reason SSTs always carried a three-person crew. Always a codriver and a person in the sleeper. All heavily armed. And usually with a four-wheeler pacing or in the drag. Whether an SST is carrying 2 kilograms of plutonium or the business end of a Minuteman missile, the threat of sabotage or hijack is always there. With terrorism full-blown in America, the possibilities of an SST getting struck were growing daily.

      The lead sedan began closing as Barry stayed in the left lane. He could see the rear window, left side, lower. The M-16 was in plain view now.

      Now the intentions of his pursuers were known.

      Barry peeled back his lips in a snarl.

      Dog cut his eyes toward Barry and joined him in the snarling.

      “Bed, Dog!” Barry yelled over the high howling of the Cummins.

      Dog jumped from the seat to the custom bunk and lay down, out of harm’s way.

      The sedan was just about right to take out. Just a few more yards.

      Barry slowed a couple of mph and smiled as the driver in the car took the bait.

      Barry could see the grim faces of the men in the front seat of the car. The man on the passenger side was armed with what appeared to be a shotgun.

      The car in the drag had stayed back.

      As the sedan pulled even with Barry’s trailer, he swung the trailer slightly. Traveling at 70 mph, the trailer smacked the car. The driver of the car fought the wheel as his right-side tires left the interstate and hit the shoulder.

      Once more under control, but with its left side dented from the impact, the sedan made a move.

      Barry simply cut the wheel slightly and ran the car off the road. It crashed through the guardrail and went sailing off, carrying its three terrorists into a very dubious meeting with eternity.

      The second car braked to a smoking stop and pulled off onto the shoulder. Barry, with a smile on his face, kept on trucking. He patted the seat beside him and Dog was instantly there.

      “There less baby killers in the world, Dog.”

      Dog barked.

      “But their buddies will be coming after us, you can bet on that.”

      Dog snarled.

      “Yeah. That’s the way I feel about it, Dog. Let the bastards come on!”

      Security at the gate checked his ID and waved him on through, but not before the security police gave him some sidewise looks.

      Obviously they had been told to ask no questions.

      Barry made his way slowly towards the area he’d been pointed by security, stopped, and shut it down.

      He was walking Dog when Jackson came out of a building and walked toward him.

      “Keep that damn dog on the leash, Barry. He bites.”

      “No worse than the guy holding the other end of the leash, Jackson.”

      Jackson grimaced.

      “You have any trouble on the way down?”

СКАЧАТЬ