3The north border, Syria
Five trucks raced over the northern reaches of Syria’s Idlib province. Four were driven by men, one by a woman. They fled in loose formation, throwing up dust wakes which merged into a single cloud. A clear target for the Syrian military.
An artillery shell wailed through the air. When it impacted it was like a hammer of God striking, throwing up a geyser of mud. Like insects fleeing a stomping foot, the trucks slalomed, aware the gunners were zeroing in. They would not miss again.
With a basso thud another shell struck amid the convoy. The geyser of earth and flash of fire obscured visibility. The vehicles were momentarily lifted off their wheels. Black debris rained upon the roofs of… four trucks which emerged unscathed from the blast cloud.
The third truck
