Free CROSSFIRE: Ex-CIA JON BRADLEY Thriller Series (TERROR BLOODLINE Book 1) by Paul Rodricks

For now he felt that the bullet had caused no excessive structural or vascular damage.  He was still able to move his right arm which meant that the brachial artery in the arm was not perforated.
        Similarly, the metal fragment lodged into the left side of the neck though bloody and painful had caused no damage to the deeper neck structures.
        Both his injuries though not immediately life-threatening were serious nonetheless.  There had been a significant loss of blood and the wounds had to be medically treated sooner than later because of high contamination from the slug and fragment further infecting the wounds.  Only then, he would ever know the real extent of his injuries. 
        Already, Bradley was feeling feverish and normally incapacitated.
        “I understand that, Jameel. I can feel the hurt… but don’t worry, I shall manage.  By the way, I owe you one, Jameel.”      
        “No problem, Boutros, you are a valuable guest of my country, and as hosts, we take great care of our guests, you know that? “ Jameel smiled mischievously.
        There was enough natural light to find their way down the incline of the wreckage site, where they had sought refuge.    
        They took the dirt tract, which led them to the street below. Jameel was walking a little ahead of Jon, making sure that the road was clear before continuing along the shadows.      
        They soon arrived at the unpaved rural road and could see the lights showing from a few of the scattered houses.          
        Bradley occasionally rested and took support from Jameel to steady himself from falling.  His shoulder and neck wounds were beginning to bleed.  He felt the wetness when he touched them.
         They had been walking along the village road for about twenty minutes.  Jon saw Jameel motion him to stop.   
        Then, Jameel retreated towards Jonathan to whisper, “You stay in the shadows of the trees.  There’s an intersection ahead, where the road divides into the left and right going towards the bigger farms and vineyards.    Someone could be coming down this intersection.  We are not going in that direction, but need to watch out.”
        Then pointing to a place in the opposite direction, “There is a single house there, quiet apart from the others.  That would be more like our place to seek help.”
          “Give me a few moments, Jameel, to catch up with my strength.  You can proceed and I will follow you a short distance behind.  This way if trouble comes our way, we won’t both be taken by surprise.”
         Jameel had just disappeared from view, when Jonathan heard the sound of a car engine, and turned to look towards the intersection.  He quickly moved deeper into the shadows.   
        Minutes later, the vehicle drove past the place he was standing hidden, brightening the road up ahead. Its powerful headlamps caught a faltering figure in its wide-radius beam. 
        For a moment, Bradley’s heart skipped a beat. 

CHAPTER NINE
     
    2003
    Wadi Neita in Kasarnaba ,
    Beqa’a Valley
     
        But the driver did not slow down or stop the Jeep Wrangler .  He merely kept on driving straight up the rural road, leaving a dusty trail behind him. 
        The shadowy figure of Jameel turned in his direction, and beckoned him, calling out in Arabic, “ Boutros, ta’al hini. Come this way, Peter.”
        After glancing towards left and right, Jon struggled to cross the road to the other side where Jameel waited for him. 
        From the rural road, a narrow grass pathway led to the farm house surrounded by a natural fence made of shrubs and flower plants.  The wooden gate to it was open, and the outside area was lit by a small electric bulb.
        Jameel would have to wake up the residents since the farmers went to bed early to rise up at dawn.
        They walked up to the front door verandah. Bradley stepped aside to lean by the side