David Dun - Overfall

Aussie had been pretty sure that management lived in the house and each of the five guards had a burre. Sam put two men to the side of the Honeymoon Burre. Six men in the garden covered the doorways of the five burres and the main house, their weapons ready. Sam did a roll call. Each man had a number corresponding to the number of a burre doorway on the map they’d studied.

Sam thought it was time for a stroke of luck. He and T.J. crept up on the Honeymoon Burre, hoping to find Jason working inside. All the windows were in the front for the ocean view as was the veranda that might have a sentry, but there was thick foliage to the side that prevented easy viewing. Aussie was not absolutely certain about the size of the staff. If they made a mistake and an alarm were sounded, every guard exiting a burre around the main garden, or for that matter the main house, would take a rubber bullet to the chest from a silenced rifle. Normally it wouldn’t kill, but it would temporarily debilitate.

They crept through the foliage. Sam had not replaced his shoes. T.J. refused combat boots and wore light sneakers. Sam was a couple of steps ahead of T.J. and to the right of him. Through a break in the foliage Sam saw the porch. Nobody. No light. He moved forward while T.J. remained still. The cabin was completely dark. Opening the door could easily set off an alarm.

Sam retreated.

Now they would have to do it the hard way.

Aussie and Anna climbed into the jeep at 1:00 A.M. Unable to think apart from nervous worry, she had paced incessantly and driven Aussie mad until he finally distracted her by insisting that they go over the plan one more time.

“I scream that you’re acting like a whore. ‘Why didn’t you just have sex with him right on the table?’ ”

“And I say, ‘Your ass is sagging and your dick is a marshmallow.’ ”

“That’s not what you say.”

“I know. I’m an actress, remember? I do this for a living. So stop trying to distract me and let me sit here and worry.”

Aussie let it lie.

T.J. went around the lodge and Sam put on his boots. They met in the front garden and waited. Five minutes to go.

As he sat in the complete quiet, watching the bats dart overhead, plainly visible through his night-vision goggles, it struck him. This had all been too easy. Something was wrong.

He heard a car drive up. Loud voices, some in French and one seeming to speak Arabic. Five in all, and one of them appeared to be Jason from the pictures he had studied.

“Clap three times,” one said in French.

“What happens when you mix kava and booze?” another asked.

Kava was a local delicacy that had a mild narcotic type of effect. Although it tasted like old dishwater, it had a bit of buzz if consumed in large enough quantities. Clap three times was a reference to the kava ceremony. He remembered that much. This could be good. Then again, it wasn’t the plan.

The group walked up the middle of the grass toward the lodge and the bar. Sam decided to move.

“Jason-red shirt with the glasses,” Sam whispered. “On three. One

…” Then he stopped. “Wait.” He looked again at the Jason character. He wasn’t sure.

He had been right the first time. Something was wrong.

Aussie pulled the old jeep off to the side of the road at a wide spot created by a driveway entrance that parted the heavy foliage. When he turned off the lights the road was plunged into black. Along the road were more massive vutu trees that held the darkness and made the air heavy with scent. Sweat poured from Anna and the adrenaline in her made the heat a dull ache. She knew she could get killed for real on this gig. For just a second she wondered if she should have stayed a little farther from the action.

“It’s just up ahead,” he said. “The lady who owns this driveway runs a campground and has groups of kids from Australia, New Zealand, Europe, and the U.S.A.”

“Jason’s just around that bend?”

“You got it. Are you ready to look like a drunken tourist?”

“All ready.” She slipped off her shirt so that she wore only tight jeans and a bikini top. Aussie grabbed his hat. A big Stetson.

“I thought you didn’t wear hats around here.”

“Right. It offends the chief. But I’m supposed to be a dumb tourist.”

Aussie took the mag light from between the bucket seats.

“All go, jungle man,” Sam’s voice crackled in their earpieces.

They walked up the road toward the bend where they would step off into the thick foliage. “Ten minutes,” he said as they walked.

A vehicle came around the corner. It sounded like a truck. They kept walking, moving over very close to a large ditch that ran down the road edge. The truck slowed as it approached. It frightened Anna, but she didn’t know why. She told herself that there was nothing so unusual about a truck in the middle of the night. As it drew close she could see that it had a roofed-over cargo area in the back. On the sides were canvas curtains.

The truck pulled up, making an unmuffled rumble. It was white under a film of mud. A bright and blinding light pierced the night from the driver’s-side door. She saw men jumping from the back.

“Run,” Aussie said. He plunged into the bushes and she followed the white of his T-shirt. They galloped over and past bushes clawing at their clothes, her tennis shoes sliding. Lights flashed through the foliage and pockets of darkness leaped out at her. Then a man was right behind her, grabbing for her. He tackled her and she fell hard.

Aussie appeared above her, fighting; then came others. A big man held her to the ground. She couldn’t move.

Two of them attacked Aussie, knocking him down. A third man started clubbing him with a rifle butt.

“Stop,” someone said.

A blond, mustached man with a scar under his chin appeared. He had a coldness about him that felt like snakes on a carcass.

“Hold him,” the man said. Now she saw that there were four of them plus the leader. Aussie was unconscious and bleeding badly from the nose. One of them held Aussie’s head by the hair. The leader pulled up Aussie’s eyelid and shone a light in the pupil.

“Cuff them both.”

Roughly they put handcuffs on her and on Aussie.

“Go back to the truck.”

The men looked at each other, confused.

When they were gone, he turned to Anna.

“Shut up and stay there or I’ll beat your face in.” The accent was heavy French. He stared at her as if to let his words sink in. “You get to watch. This is the easy way to die. You don’t want the hard way. Those animals would love to torture and rape you.”

Then he pulled out a syringe and stuck it up Aussie’s nose. In seconds his body shook and spasmed.

“No,” Anna screamed.

A fog enveloped her face and she was choking, dying, hot mush filling her lungs, taking her air.

“I thought I said shut up.”

“Wait,” Sam whispered. “Hold fire.”

As the group strolled forward the leader stopped. “There’s nobody here,” he called out.

Sam wasn’t sure whom he was talking to.

“I’m going to bed. Hey, Chief. You can come out now. This is stupid. We’ve done this for three nights and there’s nobody here.”

“Make sure you’re under cover,” Sam whispered into the mike, and moved farther back in the bushes. Obviously it was a trap, and the leader was now breaking discipline.

“Aussie?” Sam said.

He heard a grunted response.

“Get Anna back.”

“It’s too late.”

It was another voice.

“Switch to Robin,” Sam said. Reaching down to his radio, Sam keyed in a code.

“Listen up. There’s no time. If lights come on, shoot them out. Take off your night vision.”