Matt's nervous.
He drives the white Humvee and backtracks over the Americans' route. He follows Lola's instructions and rolls the truck to a halt about two thousand yards out from the Australian container. He leaves the engine running.
He talks to himself. "Well, Stanley, that's another fine mess you've gotten me into."
He rests his hand on the inside door handle and scans the horizon for any sign of danger, then sits motionless for a few seconds. Matt sees and hears nothing. In one rapid movement, he yanks down on the handle, pushes the door open, and jumps out of the Humvee.
"Christ, the things I do for lust."
He trots to the back of the Humvee and pulls open the rear door. Hidden behind it are the four cases.
"Mental note—rule out future career as delivery driver."
He grabs the orange and red cases, throws them down onto the ground and roughly stacks them on top of each other. He tries to avoid looking over at Books' covered body laid out at the far end of the cabin.
He reaches inside the truck and pushes the blue case aside, then hauls out the yellow case. He turns and dumps it on top of the stack, at the same time talking to the body. "I think it's about time we get with the relocation program and get the fuck out of here."
He slams the rear door shut, then dashes to the front of the Humvee and jumps up into the driver's seat. He shifts the truck into first gear. He looks out the windshield and yells, "OH SHIT!"
In the distance, the African-Russian vehicles hurtle toward him.
Matt floors the Humvee's throttle. The truck stalls.
"FUCK—SHIT—FUCK!" Matt panics.
He tries to restart the Humvee. The big engine turns over but fails to fire up.
He shouts at the truck. "Come on! You son of a bitch, don't you do this to me! Come on—start you piece of metal junk!"
The Humvee's engine roars to life.
"Thank Christ."
Matt blasts the truck forward, then swerves it around. He races back toward the white container. He glances in the side mirror and sees the African-Russians behind him. They chase him down.
***
Lola patrols.
She owns the bike—its rev counter is close to max power. She leans the KTM over and rides the bike in a wide, sweeping arc around the Australian container. It has shrunk to a small white dot that drifts in and out of her peripheral vision.
***
The African-Russians power forward over the salt pan. Botha leads in the pink Humvee, and to his left and right. Alexei and Mikhail follow in their black and gray trucks. The quads and bikes flank the Humvees.
Botha pulls his goggles down to shield his eyes from the wall of hot air that rushes into his face. He signals to Mikhail and Alexei, and their Humvees split away so the assault turns into a three-pronged attack.
Every machine gun erupts and fires salvo after salvo toward Matt's Humvee.
***
Cutter watches.
He hears the gunfire, spots the attack, and screams out, "Coming in! They're coming in!" He runs and jumps off the top of the container and lands next to Sophia.
"Matt!" Sophia yells.
"They're on his tail."
The Americans run for cover as 12mm rounds hammer all around them. Sophia grabs hold of Jedi. She drags and throws him behind the cover of the steel box.
Sophia screams at Jim and Cutter. "Move your asses, right now!"
Jim and Cutter sprint and slide in behind the container. Cutter holds out a hand and helps Jim back to his feet.
"Thanks," Jim says. He dusts himself down. "Never thought these old legs would work that fast again—felt like I was back playing little league."
The four Americans arm themselves.
Sophia peeps around the side of the container. She sees Matt's Humvee tearing in with the African-Russians still two miles out. She ducks back behind the container as more 12mm rounds pound and clang into the steel barrier.
"Everyone—cover him!" Sophia shouts.
***
Matt lowers himself into the truck's seat.
He hears the occasional ping of a bullet as it strikes the rear of the Humvee. He checks his side mirror again and sees the African-Russians have gained on him.
He grits his teeth. "You can do this, Matty Boy—I can do this—really, I can do this." More bullets slam into the rear of the truck. Matt sinks further into his seat. "Fuck—I hope I can do this!"
The white container is close. He heads straight for it. A bullet rips into one the Humvee's rear tires causing it to blow out, then a second tire is hit—BOOM. Matt tries to control the big truck as it snakes and weaves, then loses traction, skids sideways and comes to a stop thirty yards from the Americans.
"Shit! Sitting duck time!" Matt cowers down in the Humvee's footwell.
***
Sophia and Jedi shoot out from behind one side of the container, while Jim and Cutter do the same on the opposite side.
Over the racket, Sophia screams at Matt. "Matt, you fucking dodo, run to us now! Ruuuuuuuuuuuuun!"
Terrified, Matt jumps from the Humvee and sprints for his life toward the container. Bullets chase him down and pepper the ground all around. He reaches the container and dives behind it. He lands in a crumpled heap next to Sophia and Jedi.
He pants and looks up at Sophia. "Phew, for a minute there, I thought I might have been in a bit of trouble."
"For fuck's sake, move faster next time!" Sophia yells.
"Yeah—you dodo!" Relieved, Jedi throws Matt an M16.
Matt catches the gun. "Thanks, guys, really great to see you too. So what the fuck do we do now?"
