The Gates: An Apocalyptic Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

positive change. Worst thing to do now would be to try and manipulate
things from Washington, London, and Brussels.
    Not that Tony held any respect for the ISN. Like all
fanatics, they were monsters hiding behind ideals and traditions—they deserved
whatever they got—but it was for the Arab world to deal with them. Only through
their own trials and triumphs would the people of the Middle East gain the
confidence needed to unite against extremism and join the rest of the world on
equal footing.
    While Private Green carried out his orders, Tony took
a trek up the hill to double-check that it was indeed a suitable location to
stage an ambush. The elevation alone should give them the better end of a firefight,
but it never hurt to know the terrain. For instance, as he strode up the gentle
incline now, he noticed that the ground underfoot was loose. It would become
tough to see if a sudden gust swept dirt up into the air. The last thing the
men needed during a battle was a face full of sand. It might be worth building
a windbreaker out of any larger rocks they could find.
    So Tony set about looking for those rocks. There
were numerous fist-sized boulders, but few that were large enough to provide
cover. The unit had brought jeeps with them—hidden nearby under sandy tarps
about half-a-mile back—so it was possible to make a quick reccy to see what lay
in the surrounding area, but before he had properly considered doing that, he
spotted a large stone up ahead. A jet-black boulder, completely out of place
amongst the browns and greys of the desert.
    In fact, it looked very much like it had been
placed there.
    Tony squinted and muttered to himself, “What the
hell is that thing?”
    “Incoming,” came a squawk through the radio.
    Tony dropped onto one knee and swung his rifle up
and around. Private Harris, a large brute of a man and the group’s lookout, pointed
toward the Syrian border. Lieutenant Ellis rushed to the bottom of the hill and
signalled the men to gather up, but as Tony was on higher ground, he stayed right
where he was. Ellis realised that his Staff Sergeant was in a better position
and instead rallied the men to Tony’s location.
    “Who’s coming? How many? And which direction?” Tony
asked Private Harris before Ellis had time to interject.
    “Vehicles—I counted four. Three cars, one van.”
    “Dear Lord,” said Ellis. “That’s quite the
convoy.”
    Tony faced his commanding officer with urgency. “We
should get the men behind the hill and call it in to Command.”
    “Yes, of course. Everybody, form a firing line behind
the hill and await my orders.”
    When the Lieutenant did nothing else, Tony frowned
at him. “Are you going to call Command, sir?”
    “No, it’s unnecessary until we know what we’re up
against.”
    “When we know what we’re up against it’ll be too
late.”
    “Nonsense. I don’t want to put a call through to Command
without good reason.”
    “There could be twenty armed men in that convoy.”
    “Pah, twenty rebels against fifteen British
soldiers. In an ambush no less.”
    Tony gritted his teeth. He knew the Lieutenant
wanted to call Command after successfully taking out a rebel unit so that he looked
like a competent leader with initiative, instead of an officer who called
everything in to get orders from above on how to proceed. “Fine,” Tony
relented. “Let’s just be ready.”
    The men scurried behind the hill and bedded down,
spreading themselves out six feet apart and forming a well-spaced firing line. Closer
to the top of the hill, Tony peeked over the crest to see what they were up against.
It was bad.
    Four cars and a van—not three as Private Harris
had reported. If the vehicles were full of rebels, there would be a serious
firefight. The ambush would have to be executed flawlessly, because if it
became a protracted affair, there would be casualties on both sides. Tony got on
his radio, the quickest way to speak to all fourteen men at once.