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Back Enemy at the Gates Save as PDF
Chapters (57)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. EPILOGUE
  55. More from the Authors
  56. ABOUT THE AUTHORS
  57. Novels by Vince Flynn

“Yeah. I think she got what Ahmale had. She says it’s going ’roun’. But I don’t have it. I could ride. And I want to be faster when you get back!”

Shit.

“Can you put her on?”

“She’s asleep. Want me to wake her up?”

“No. Do not wake her up.”

They’d been there for days and there was still no sign of anyone moving against Ward. Everything was set up and now it was just a waiting game—something the men dozing around him were happy to do for the amount of cash Nicholas Ward was shelling out. He, on the other hand, didn’t need the money and had better things to do. Maybe it was time to tell Joe Maslick to get his feet out of the baby pool and come run this end of the operation. Or hell, just put Levi in charge. He’d proven himself a hundred times over during the course of his career.

“If your mom says to stay off the bike then stay off it. And you should be helping out around the house. But don’t get too close to her. And wash your hands.”

Was he really doing this? Was he really standing in the middle of nowhere Uganda, surrounded by mercenaries, lecturing a seven-year-old about personal hygiene? This family man crap was getting out of hand.

“I’m being careful. And I am helping. I made soup all by myself. And crackers. Well, I didn’t make those, but I opened the box. And I took them up to her. But that doesn’t mean I can’t—”

“You heard what I said, Anna. The bike’s off-limits. Your mother has enough on her plate without you running over one of the dogs and going over your handlebars.”

“Fine.”

He grimaced. She’d picked up that response—and the pissed-off tone that carried it—from him.

“Look, I’ve got a couple things to tie up here and then I’ll get on a plane home.”

“When?”

“I don’t know. Probably sometime tomorrow. Just hold down the fort until then. Can you do that?”

“Sure,” she said with the unshakable confidence of someone who had less than a decade under her belt. “Easy.”

25

SOUTHWESTERN UGANDA

THE day that had been foretold was finally here.

After more than forty-eight hours trudging through the forest, Sanyu Nabirye was now crawling. Not because of exhaustion, though. For stealth.

He had become part of the darkness, part of the jungle around him. Like he always did. Never once had his victims seen him coming. He appeared in their villages like a ghost, moving among them as their screams filled his ears. As the heat from their burning villages warmed his skin and the smoke burned his throat.

Such was God’s glory. Such was the glory of Gideon Auma.