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“Flyboy made it back to Samarinda in one piece,” Kissinger reported, “but apparently there’s a nick in the chopper’s fuel line, so it’ll be awhile before he can get it airborne again.”
“How about another chopper?” Bolan asked.
“He’s trying to roust one from the military over in Balikpapan,” Kissinger said, “but that’ll take time, too.”
“How’s the major holding up?”
“He’s under the knife at the city hospital,” Kissinger said. “They say it’s going to be a long surgery, and they don’t like his chances. That prisoner we took in is in the OR too, but his prognosis isn’t much better. The others got by with quick patch-ups. They’ve probably already been released.”
Bolan took Kissinger aside and whispered, “If they haven’t been, I think we should have Jack and Rock try to keep an eye on them.”
“Why’s that?”
Before Bolan could pass along his theory about a spy having tipped off the Lashkar about the raid, Latek returned from the promontory and called out, “I see some smoke.”
“That’s not exactly ‘Stop the presses,’” Bahn told him. “There’s smoke everywhere you look.”
“Close by,” Latek said. “Just down the hill.”
Bolan told the others to stay put, then motioned for Kissinger to come with him. When they reached the escarpment, Bolan dropped once again to the ground and inched forward to a point from which he could see back down into the valley. Kissinger did the same.
A hundred yards away, a thin, serpentine finger of white smoke rose through the trees.
“Too small for a slash-and-burn,” Kissinger murmured.
“It’s in the direction the shooter was headed,” Bolan said. “I’m thinking campsite.”
“If that’s the case, we’re in business,” Kissinger said.
They crawled back into the brush. Bolan told Bahn and Latek, “If we’re going to try to hit them, this is the time, before they head any deeper into the forest.”
“I’m with you,” Bahn said.
Latek nodded. “What is the plan?”
Bolan thought it over, then laid out a basic strategy. When he was finished, Latek spoke briefly to the other commandos. As they steeled themselves for what lay ahead, one of the men clenched his assault rifle tightly and murmured something in Javanese.
“What’d he say?” Bolan asked Bahn as they prepared to enter the forest.
“Roughly translated,” she said, “It’s show time.”
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