Free Fires of War by Jim DeFelice, Larry Bond

Why would they need to bypass the standard procedures by bringing a single truck in late at night, skipping around the classifying and tracking station?
     
    Ferguson reached into his pocket and grabbed three small wireless bugs, then crawled to the edge of the roof. When the truck passed the building, he tossed the bugs onto the top of the truck body. One bounced onto the ground, but the others stayed.
     
    “Guns, see if you can follow that truck,” Ferguson said. “I dumped a couple of bugs on top.”
     
    “On it, Ferg.”
     
    Though not as good as dedicated tracking devices, the bugs could be used as primitive range finders with roughly a three-mile range.
     
    “Ferguson, where are you?” asked Rankin.
     
    “About to break my legs getting off the reception building roof,” said Ferguson, looking over the side and realizing there was no easy way down.
     
    ~ * ~
     

15
     
    SOUTH CHUNGCHONG PROVINCE
     
    Guns ran down the hill and jumped into the car. He fumbled with his backpack, finally locating the audio bug’s receiving unit in a case at the very bottom. He had to squint to see the directional arrow in the screen.
     
    Then they were gone. The bugs worked with line of sight radio waves, which would limit their range in this terrain.
     
    At least he had the advantage of knowing which way the truck had come from. He eased down the dirt road toward the highway and waited for it to go by.
     
    Five minutes passed before he realized his assumption was wrong; the truck had to have left by now and must be going the other way. Sure enough, he got the signal back as soon as he passed the waste facility.
     
    It was weak; the truck was more than a mile beyond him, possibly close to the outside limits of the bug’s range. He stepped on the gas.
     
    “Going east,” he told Ferguson. “He came from the west.”
     
    “Just follow him until he gets somewhere. Check in later. We’ll meet you at the park.”
     
    Guns had to slow down to take a series of curves as the road descended, braking so sharply that the receiving unit fell off the car seat. He grabbed for it, then lost it again as the road jerked right in front of him. Cursing at himself, he waited until he came to a straightaway, then reached down and grabbed the unit, holding it in front of the Hyundai’s dash.
     
    They were straight ahead, about a half mile away.
     
    Guns decided to trying ramping the volume on the unit, but the only thing he heard was a whooshing noise. Only one bug seemed to be working, even though Ferguson had told him he’d thrown more than one.
     
    Five minutes later, Guns came to a north-south intersection. As he started across, he saw that the directional indicator had swung to the right. He veered across the shoulder and opposite lane of the deserted highway, scraping the muffler on the median curb. The car’s exhaust rumbled a bit louder as he got into the right lane, but at least he was going in the right direction.
     
    While the immediate area was deserted, the truck would soon reach a built-up area where there were lots of intersections and turnoffs. Guns decided to close the gap. Within a few minutes the meter showed he was steadily gaining on the truck, and he started looking ahead for taillights, expecting them to appear at any second. Every so often he glanced at the receiver; his target was dead ahead.
     
    And then suddenly it wasn’t.
     
    The strength needle began backing off, and he lost the directional compass. Guns realized he’d somehow passed the truck.
     
    He spun into a quick a U-turn. The strength gauge climbed again, showing the bug was dead ahead.
     
    And then behind him.
     
    He cursed, realizing the bug had fallen off the truck onto the road.
     
    ~ * ~
     
    16
     
    SOUTH CHUNGCHONG PROVINCE
     
    It took Ferguson and Rankin nearly three hours to hike out of the waste plant property and down through the nearby park. Guns was leaning against the car near the fence, waiting for them, his arms