49
The second vehicle upgrade had gone down much more quietly and neatly than the first. Close by the munitions bunkers, they’d gotten an unbloodied guard’s uniform and a truck.
The clothes were too small for the Chinese woman, Mr. Eurotrash, or the “Latin Wonder” as he’d introduced himself. That left Elayne and the slender Indian. She’d hardly said a word and, unlike the dead Arab woman who might have actually been an asset, she had no idea how to hold a weapon. Besides, her English sucked. Elayne took the uniform and the driver’s seat.
One more roadblock, but she’d barely had to wave her ID and crack a John Wayne joke about “Gettin’ these hosses back to the stable” before they flagged her through.
As soon as she’d cleared it, the Latin Wonder stuck his head in through the small windo
