As Bethan implied, their ‘complex shit’ wasn’t hard to spot, but what was mere curiosity minutes ago now grew into concern if these two could work together and a desire to pull Sean aside for a quick chat. She was used to privately doubting things even her own superiors told her, she’d reserve judgement until after she’d heard both sides of the story. She had some experience as an interconnect between at times incompatible people in the form of enlisted and officers, sadly her tenure as platoon sergeant reached an unexpected explosive finale earlier than she would’ve liked. And at least enlisted and officers had [i]some[/i] common wiring. These two, if even half of what Bethan just said was true… Fuck.

Having gotten out of the car, Yekaterina stood at the street corner and watched in surprise as several more Dry Trail trucks passed by, unfortunately unable to see under their tarps. Ah, well, not their problem, their target was still there. Yekaterina leaned into the driver side window so the lads on the other side of Bethan’s phone could hear her. “The way I see it, it doesn’t really bother us. Manar wanted a driver, whatever good he’s gonna be for. Car he provided had a dossier with this truck in it. Make, model, color and license plate are a match, so we grab that. Nowhere was anything mentioned about cargo. Only problem is the added heat.” [i]‘And if he bitches about it, then next time we ask for orders in writing.’[/i] she thought, but didn’t say out loud, “I’m on my way back to the truck stop. Unless anyone has a better idea, let’s give the rest of the trucks a minute to get some distance from here in case they feel like going back to help their friend out. If we’re lucky, our driver will get out of our truck in the meantime. On your mark, I’ll get them to look my way so the two of you can get a jump on them and when the guards turn their backs to me and start paying attention to you two, I’ll help mop up. Surprise is on our side, even if numbers aren’t. Watch for crossfire, if I get shot by either of you, I’m haunting you. If the driver keeps his head on his shoulders and tries to make a run for it, Beth can keep track of him while we improvise. Call me if he gets underway or you want to call it off. Otherwise I’ll see you there.”

Unsure of how to conceal the mother of all knives Sean left her, the Russian left it in the car and broke into a jog, only slowing down just before the truck stop came into view, some 30 meters away, the crowd around providing good concealment. The guards had an interesting collection of weapons, and she couldn’t help but think ‘That belongs in a museum.’ She recalled joking with her friends at school that they would kill to get their hands on some of these weapons for their historical value. Oh, the irony. Their only shot at this was cleaning house and making a break for it before any reinforcements showed up. The truck was hardly bulletproof, much less capable of a swift getaway. She would’ve questioned why the Dry Trail would work with someone who kidnapped their driver and stole their truck in the first place, but who was she to question Manar’s plan? And if what he told them was just a line of bullshit to keep his cards close to his chest, it was a moot point anyway. After a few seconds, she spotted the second pair standing at a cafe. Not acknowledging them in any way, she waited for either a go or no from the boys.

If the order was given, she would approach smiling and empty-handed from the front of the truck, that way she could dive behind the engine block that actually stood a decent chance of stopping a bullet or two when the shooting started, mimicking Gunther’s Anglo-German mishmash and asking about directions to the city center. She figured that way of speech would allow her to play ignorant enough to draw the attention of more than one guard, yet not ignorant enough to be ignored and told to piss off right away.