Abruptly the wag trailing her slewed sideways. Two men in back who’d been manning the machine guns whipped out a section of heavy netting equipped with weights. The net flew true, unfurling in midair until it dropped around Mildred.
She went down hard, trying to shake the empty brass from the Czech-made ZKR and struggle up from the folds of the net. Before she had a chance to finish the reload, at least six men pushed her back to the ground. When they cleared off her, she wasn’t fighting anymore.
Ryan couldn’t believe the woman was dead, but any kind of rescue was next to impossible. J.B. worked the Uzi calmly and dispassionately, raking short bursts across the wag personnel and the handful of muties who hadn’t quit the area.
Ryan dropped one of the two men who’d thrown the net. The Steyr’s round blasted the man backward over the side of the wag. Despite the supposed orders not to kill, the other machine gunner opened up on Ryan’s position. Clods of dirt and rock ripped loose around him. He sank back into cover. Slinging the rifle, he drew the SIG-Sauer.
J.B. was already moving in on Mildred’s position. Two 3-round bursts knocked down two of the men trying to lift the woman from the ground.
Ryan took that as a sign of hope. If they’d killed the woman, they’d have left her there. He broke cover, moving in from the other side, backing J.B.’s play. It was possible they could recover her if they got control of one of the wags and put the others out of commission.
He ran toward the nearest wag, the SIG-Sauer raised before him. The sec man on the passenger side noticed him first, yelling a warning to the men in front of him. Both had their hands full with muties determined to take their lives.
Ryan fired two rounds. Bright scarlet blood, illuminated by the lights from the other wags, splashed against the fractured windshield inside the wag’s cab as a sec man dropped inside the vehicle. The driver had a chance for one quick, terrified glance at Ryan, then a bullet took him squarely between the eyes, snapping his head back.
Slipping his free hand onto the door latch, Ryan triggered it and started to yank it open. The sec man’s body tumbled to the ground as a hail of bullets punched through the door.
Having no choice, Ryan abandoned his position. He dived toward the back of the truck, spotting one of the saddle tanks. He threw himself under the wag and unleathered his panga. Three quick thrusts opened holes in the gas tank. Liquid spilled out the holes, pooling rapidly in the sand.
The sec men cautiously approached the side of the wag.
Ryan scrambled through on the other side and saw J.B. cutting away at the net that held Mildred. The Armorer glanced in his direction once, hand sliding back for the Uzi. When J.B. saw who it was, he turned back to his task.
Rocks lay scattered across the ground. Ryan seized two that looked as if they had heavy mineral content. He hoped some of it was iron or flint. He tossed them underhanded toward the broad pool of gasoline beneath the wag. When they landed, he fired immediately.
The 9 mm rounds struck the rocks, knocking sparks from one of them. The sparks proved enough to ignite the gasoline. Flames spread across the pool, then started leaping up the torrents pouring from the ruptured gas tank.
“Cover her!” Ryan yelled at J.B. “There’s going to be a blow!”
An instant later the gas tank under the wag exploded from the built-up vapor inside. The vehicle jumped in its tracks, the tank reduced to shrapnel that blasted in all directions. Several pieces ripped the sec men to shreds, and two of the wag’s rear tires went flat.
Ryan pushed himself to his feet. Alerted by movement in his peripheral vision, he yelled a warning to J.B. just as a shadow stepped around the front of the wag that had come up behind Mildred.
The Armorer was deadly and quick, rounds from the Uzi chopping into the man standing there.