Part 35 (2/2)
CHAPTER 57.
Jose stared at his phone, puzzled. From what he could tell, the satellite network hadn't disconnected the call. He had full coverage, so he a.s.sumed that the scout team was in the same situation, unless the storm had somehow hampered the signal. From what he knew about satellite communications, he didn't think that was the case.
”Pull over,” he said over the radio net.
”What's up?” said David, following the lead vehicle to the shoulder of the road.
”I just lost contact with Ranger. There was no interference or signal bleed. They were there one second, gone the next.”
”Dead battery?” said David.
”They know better,” said Jose. ”And they have a backup.”
He activated his tablet and examined the satellite map. The scout team had just reentered Wikieup, twenty-two miles away. They had cleared the town two hours ago, but a lot could change in a few hours.
He saw a few options. The most prudent would be to turn around and connect with Interstate 10. He should have taken Jeremy's advice on that one. They could have holed up near the California border and waited for the storm to pa.s.s. The only problem with backtracking was that they would undoubtedly get caught in the storm before reaching the interstate, running the distinct risk of having to pull over and ride out the storm even deeper in cartel territory. The closer they got to Interstate 40, the better.
Zooming in on the area around Wikieup, Jose noticed some possible side roads to the east. If they could sidestep Wikieup and get back to Highway 93, they could drive blind to Interstate 40 if they had to. GPS road mapping was accurate enough to keep them from driving off the road, if they didn't push their speed.
”Jeremy, I just lost contact with Ranger,” Jose said. ”What do you think about trying to skirt around Wikieup? I see what looks like a partial state road leaving the highway south of the town,” he said over the net.
”I see it. Route 159 . . . turns into Cholla Canyon Road?”
”That's it.”
”That would get us around and put us about five miles above Wikieup. Might be a rough road, though. I don't get the impression road maintenance has been a priority up here for a long time.”
”I'd prefer a rough ride to another gunfight,” said Jose.
”What about the river running along the road? Should be hard packed like cement.”
”Should be, but we can't afford to get a vehicle stuck. I'd rather crawl along Cholla Canyon Road.”
”Copy that. I'll input the route and make sure we can find the turnoff. Visibility will be s.h.i.+t by the time we get there.”
Jose glanced out of the side window at the towering wall of sand. They really didn't have much time before it enveloped them. The best they could do was get off the highway and move as carefully as possible.
”All drivers stay as close as possible to the vehicle in front of you,” he said. ”We can't use headlights.”
”We can pop a few IR chem sticks and tie them to the license plates,” said one of the drivers. ”Night vision will pick those up through the dust.”
”All right. Make it happen. Back on the road in thirty seconds,” said Jose, turning to David. ”I got ours.”
Jose fought against the wind to open the door, sand and pebbles blasting him when he stepped outside. The door slammed shut without his a.s.sistance. He walked to the back of the SUV, knelt behind the license plate, and removed a chem stick from his vest. Nathan appeared next to him, s.h.i.+elding his eyes from the blowing sand.
”I got this,” said Jose, taking a small spool of parachute cord from a pocket.
Nathan knelt next to him. ”I'm a little concerned about riding this out in the vehicle. We have no way to keep the sand out. It's already hard to breathe.”
His concern wasn't trivial. Jose had just been too preoccupied with the route and communicating with the scouts to address it. ”We have some N95 respirators in the medical kit. I wish we had some heavier-duty breathing gear.”
”The respirators will help for now. I'm more concerned with later. This storm could last several hours.”
”Once we get off the highway and find a safe place to stop, we'll work on plugging all the cracks. It's the best we can do,” said Jose. ”Let me finish up here and grab the med kit.”
Nathan nodded. ”Do you really think the scout team got hit?”
”I don't know,” said Jose. ”Wikieup is the only town with more than one or two buildings on Highway 93, so it would be a logical place for an ambush-especially with the storm heading in.”
Jose cut a section of cord and looped it through the end of the chem stick, tying it to the license plate holder.
”You forgot to crack it,” said Nathan.
Jose laughed. ”A lot of good that would have done us.” He took the plastic tube in both hands and bent it until he heard it snap, mixing the IR-emitting chemicals. To the naked eye, nothing appeared to have changed.
”My dad used to bring home boxes of them when I was a kid,” Nathan said. ”We gave them away as party favors at my birthday parties. He could be cheap like that.”
”I bet you were pretty popular with your friends,” said Jose, standing up.
”Not really. All the other parents did the same thing. I didn't go to school off base until ninth grade.”
Jose smiled. ”I'm looking forward to meeting your father,” he said, patting his shoulder.
As soon as they'd shut the car doors, the convoy rolled forward, quickly picking up speed. Jose distributed the respirators, keeping his in the center console so he could talk over the radio net without sounding garbled.
By the time they reached the turnoff fifteen minutes later, the sky had darkened to the point where he could barely see the outline of the SUV in front of them. Brake lights glowed weakly from time to time, illuminating the sand blowing between the vehicles. Jose reached into the foot well and pulled his helmet off the floor. He knew from experience that everything was about to go pitch-black. With the helmet tightened in place, he lowered the night-vision goggles and found the chem light on the rear of the first SUV, which burned brightly through the sand.
”Can you see him turning?” asked Jose.
”Barely,” said David, tapping the brakes.
”You have at least twenty feet separation. You're good. Start easing us over in four. Three. Two. One. Start the turn. I'll tell you when to straighten out.”
Their SUV followed the lead vehicle onto Route 159.
”Right here,” said Jose. ”What can you see now?”
”Brake lights. Kind of.”
The storm had swallowed them.
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