Free Foxbat by James Barrington

the fleeing Land Rover, with almost no chance of finding his mark in those conditions and at that range.
    Half a mile further behind, two other sets of headlights bored through the morning twilight. The
     three-ton trucks had not given up the chase.
    ‘Foxtrot November, Alpha One,’ said Dekker into his radio microphone, almost
     having to shout over the roar of the turbo-charged diesel and the rattling of equipment. ‘We’re heading back, with hostiles in pursuit. We’re now in one vehicle only. I say
     again, one vehicle only. Ourestimate is minutes zero six. Get those engines started, and drop the ramp.’
    ‘Alpha One, roger. Call when you’re thirty seconds out, and we’ll hit the
     lights and start rolling.’
    The Algerian jeep had closed to less than three hundred yards, and its machine-gun started up
     again, bullets striking the rocks around them, uncomfortably close. Though none actually hit the Land Rover, Richter guessed it was only a matter of time.
    ‘We’re not going to make it unless we stop those bastards,’ Dekker called
     out.
    ‘Fucking risky. If we slow down they’ll be all over us.’
    ‘Yes, but if we don’t they’ll catch us before we get to the plane. John, next
     big clump of rocks you see, dive behind it and stop. Then kill the lights.’
    ‘Got it, boss.’
    Two minutes later the headlights picked out a handful of large boulders off to the right of
     their path.
    ‘That’ll do,’ Dekker called, and the Pinky changed course slightly to make
     towards them. ‘We’ll try to discourage them a bit, so use grenades.’
    Richter, Dekker and two of the troopers began loading forty-millimetre grenades into their 203s.
     Then, on Dekker’s command, they fired them back towards the vehicle in pursuit. There was no chance of hitting it, but this sudden display of firepower might make the Algerians back
     off.
    The driver braked hard – the vehicle had no rear lights, so the pursuers wouldn’t
     notice it slowing down – and slewed the Pinky around in a circle behind the rocks. He switched off the headlights as he came to a halt.
    ‘Dave, you take the Browning. Everyone else, spread out. Don’t fire until I give
     the order.’
    Richter checked the magazine on his 203, found he had only four rounds left. He paused to change
     it, then ran over to a boulder looming by itself. He aimed the assault rifle towards the approaching jeep and waited.
    The Algerian vehicle had already slowed down, and it suddenlyveered off,
     heading away from their location. Somebody on board must have noticed that their quarry’s lights had vanished, and guessed they could be driving into a trap.
    ‘Fuck, these guys are good,’ Dekker muttered. ‘Dave, hit them with the
     Browning. Everyone else, get back in the Pinky. John, take us out of here – no lights.’
    Wallace fired off several short bursts from the machine-gun, but the enemy jeep was already
     virtually invisible behind a rocky outcrop.
    ‘Grenades, go,’ Dekker ordered, and the night air filled with the sound of
     explosions as the Land Rover accelerated away.
    They’d covered only about a quarter of a mile when Richter spotted the jeep behind them
     again, with its headlights switched off. The sky was lightening almost by the minute, and the Algerians had obviously seen the Land Rover get moving again. And now the visibility was good
     enough to enable fast driving without any lights at all.
    ‘How far to the Herky-bird?’ Richter inquired.
    Dekker checked his GPS. ‘Around a mile and a half.’ Just then the machine-gun
     mounted on the pursuing jeep began firing again.
    Wallace immediately stood up, grasped the Browning, and began returning fire. Meanwhile, two of
     the SAS soldiers loosed off with their 203s. As before, the Pinky kept bouncing around too much for accurate shooting, but their onslaught might help keep the Algerians at a suitable
     distance.
    ‘Foxtrot November, Alpha One. We’re approaching one mile. Are you ready