“A sandwich formation,” Ryan answered. “Nowhere to run.”
“Looks like. The ends are merely charges, no sensors or trips. It’s when you reach the middle of the bridge that all three go. Damn good design. Best I’ve seen.” He snipped a wire and waited for sudden violent death. When nothing happened, he snipped another.
Squatting on the shore, Dean studied the river. “So how do the blues get across?”
“Ford river,” Jak said. “Not deep.”
“The bottom is too soft,” Doc stated knowingly. “We would be forced to abandon the Hummer. A LAV could make the transition, but not our current mode of transportation.”
Levering a beveled plate out of the way, J.B. answered, “We can cross the bridge anytime, only the Hummer can’t. People, horses, most civilian wags would roll over with no trouble. But once the mine senses dense steel overhead, this whole bridge will be matchsticks in a heartbeat.”
“Can you remove the mine, let it sink in the river?” Ryan asked, a spent round sliding from his shirt pocket and disappearing into the water. The man was annoyed he had missed the brass. It could just as easily have been a live round wasted due to carelessness. As a reasonable precaution, Ryan had emptied his pockets of anything valuable before leaning over the bridge. J.B. had done the same, his collection of items piled on the floorboards of the Hummer. And just in case the mine was tripped by magnetic fields, Ryan was stripped to the SIG-Sauer, no spare clips, and not even a knife in his boot, to keep the metal on his body to an absolute minimum.
“Not going to remove this device without power tools,” J.B. answered, grunting with effort. “It’s here to stay, bolted into position nine different ways. But I have a better plan.” More muttering sounded from under the bridge, along some hard banging and another splash. “Shit!”
Suddenly, the birds in the trees stopped making noises, and the rest of the companions drew blasters. Straining to hear voices or engines, they waited for a patrol of blues to arrive. Tense minutes passed before a sting-wing soared from the trees with a fresh kill in its beak. The companions relaxed as the mutie flew away and the birds began to chirp once more.
Ryan eased the safety back on the SIG-Sauer, when he realized that J.B. was on the move below the bridge, wiggling quickly between the braces and joists. The one-eyed warrior retreated to the safety of the road, waiting as J.B. reached the shore and crawled backward onto the grass. Gratefully, the man stood and lifted a thick wad of grayish clay from inside his shirt.
“To hell with defusing the mine. I just removed the C-4 charge,” J.B. announced with a slight smirk. “Let the damn thing ignite. It’ll only make a bang that wouldn’t chill a fly.”
“You sure about that?” Mildred asked, handing over a backpack.
Extracting dry clothes from within, J.B. quickly changed, using stiff fingers to smooth his damp hair. Then, donning his dry fedora, he slid the Uzi over a shoulder. “Well, just in case, I’ll drive the Hummer over alone,” he suggested, adjusting his glasses.
Already at the wag, Ryan started the engine and stepped away from the Hummer. A stick was pressed against the gas pedal and a piece of rope held the steering wheel steady. At a leisurely pace, the armored vehicle slowly rolled across the expanse of the wooden bridge, veering a little off course toward the edge, but nothing dangerous. As the wag reached the middle, there was a sharp explosion and debris sprayed into the river, churning the surface and scaring away the fish. Smoke blew away from the support beams, but nothing else occurred and the Hummer reached the other side intact.
Sprinting forward, Ryan claimed the Hummer before it got too far away, and turned off the engine. “It’s safe,” he announced, untying the knotted rope and throwing away the stick. “Let’s go.”
Walking over, the companions piled their belongings into the rear of the Hummer and took seats. Jak took the gunner position at the M-60, and Doc stretched his long legs in the cargo area. Taking the front seat, J.B. laid the Uzi on the floor and started carving the lump of plastique into fat bricks. Gently, he wrapped each separately in a piece of a blue shirt taken off a corpse and tucked the bricks into his munitions bag.
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