“I’ve seen this before,” Alicia said as she opened the door. “But it was between galleons, not planes.”
She poked the rifle out, steadied, and opened fire. Bullets slammed across airspace and into the other plane, shredding the metal skin. The pilot veered away. Alicia saw men falling in all directions.
“Modern age, modern warfare,” Russo said in answer to her comment. “At least we can’t sink.”
“Well, eventually we could but we’d have to crash-land first.”
Crouch tried to direct their pilot who seemed to be frozen at the controls. He climbed out of his seat to ask if he could take charge of the plane. The pilot stared at him aghast.
“You kidding?”
“No, sir. I am an accomplished military pilot.”
“Where was your last flight and what happened?”
“Um, well, over Niagara Falls in a helicopter and we… won.”
“You won? What do you mean?”
“It was a gun battle,” Crouch admitted with a sigh.
“Dude, you should stay away from things that fly.”
Alicia held on with grim determination. Their pilot was flying straight at the other plane, but then swung right at an order from Crouch. As the two winged crafts passed, Healey opened fire from his side of the plane. At the same time bullets ripped into their own hull. The sound of tortured metal and the terrible thudding of bullets filled the small space for seconds that felt like hours. The team hit the floor; the pilot shrieked.
“We’re getting the hell outta here!” he cried out.
“No,” Crouch told him. “Show your tail to them and they’ll quickly shoot you out of the skies. We have to stay fully mobile and as cunning as possible.”
The pilot girded his loins. Alicia held firm to the door, and Healey followed suit. Russo eyed it all as if wanting to push her out of the way and get involved. Their plane descended, then rose sharply, leveling off alongside the other.
More bullets were traded. Alicia picked out a man this time and took him down, seeing his falling body push aside two more. As the other plane passed she saw a big mercenary crowding his way through and out the door, jumping down to the pontoon with incredible confidence.
Or incredible stupidity.
She preferred to think the latter, but didn’t think too hard. As the planes came around again, she lined him up.
“Oh, holy crap.”
Concentrating on the man and not his ammo she’d failed to spot the H&K machine gun.
“Dive! Dive!” she cried, feeling like a submarine pilot. “Fucking dive!”
The pilot reacted instantly, hearing the urgency in her voice. Bullets grated across the top of their craft and lumps of shredded metal rained down. The pilot cleverly came back up the other side and lined Alicia up for a bit of retaliation.
She was ready. Steadying both aim and balance she destroyed glass and metal and even the struts of wings. Her own plane then plunged and her stomach hit the roof of her mouth.
“Wha…?”
“Have to drop her down a bit.” The pilot grimaced. “The altitude’s stressing her out.”
Alicia figured it might be the pilot not the plane, but got on with it. Russo stared at her with demanding eyes.
“Go on, Robster. You can have a go.”
As the enemy plane came lower too, descending on top of them, Alicia saw the beach flying upwards. Most of the men had climbed out of the hole and were heading toward jeeps, the tents and their contents forgotten. Some carried guns, but others just ran. She wondered if many of them were just hired help. The two remaining seaplanes still bobbed in place, though several dinghies now surrounded them, filled with men.
An idea came to her, crazy but workable, and that was enough.
“Take us down to the sea,” she said. “And don’t hang around. If they see this coming, we’re sunk.”
Russo laughed. “Sunk?”
“Literally.”
The pilot, to his credit, didn’t question her, just headed toward the glittering waters with the other plane left wondering above. Alicia began to see faces more clearly, and get a grasp for the weapons they faced.
“Mostly handguns,” she said. “If this is Jensen’s crew they’re cheaply outfitted and running on air. No wonder he wants a score so bad.”
“Could be his last gasp. Crew losing patience. At each other’s throats. That kind of thing,” Healey said.
“Ready to mutiny?” Caitlyn asked with a scamp’s grin.
“Jensen figures he’s a pirate captain.” Alicia shook her head. “Maybe he’ll end up like one.”
By now the plane was approaching the blue waters of Haiti and most of the men aboard the dinghies had turned to watch. Some readied weapons. Others sat without moving as if wanting none of the violence.
“Ready for this?” Alicia asked.
“For what?” Russo asked. “What’s the plan?”
“We take another plane.”
The pontoons skimmed across and then plowed through the water, arrowing straight for the leading enemy plane. It slowed rapidly, forcing the Gold Team to hang on tightly, and the pilot sent it in a little swerve toward the end.
The craft came alongside nicely.
Alicia flung open the side door and followed Healey out into the bright, hot day. With weapons screaming they were all shock and awe, fire and brimstone. They jumped down to the pontoon and spread out. A dinghy was shot to pieces, its men sent sprawling or tumbling overboard. Two lay bleeding, their own weapons cast aside. Men swam hard for the shore. Alicia concentrated on the second dinghy. Their enemies, though, were no slouches and were already bringing their own weapons to bear.
Healey came out of the same side door just as a bullet struck the frame around it. He ducked quickly, swearing. Alicia shot the man that held the gun, and saw him topple backwards. But they were exposed now. It was time to act.
The planes had drifted closer. Without missing a beat, she leapt to the prow of the shattered dinghy, used it for balance and momentum, and sprang onto the pontoon of the enemy seaplane. A man met her, striking out with a knife. She hurled her body to the side, using the hull of the plane to stop her fall and bounce back up. Her right fist connected hard with his jaw, her left with a set of ribs and then the barrel of her gun with his right temple. He collapsed, unmoving.
Healey came next, outpacing and probably out-gracing Russo when it came to nimble movement. Two more mercs stood on the pontoon, and were both targeting Alicia. Healey fired at one and kicked at the other, unbalancing both, sending them slithering between the pontoon and the body of the plane. Both gone, but not necessarily neutralized.
Alicia gripped the door of the plane and pulled.
Behind her, Russo was concentrating on the second dinghy. Beyond that battle the beach was becoming more and more deserted as mercs drove off in jeeps, all running as if someone had lit a fire at their heels. Alicia wondered if Jensen had sacrificed the planes and the men around them. A decoy. Nothing would surprise her.
But a second seaplane certainly wouldn’t hurt.
Inside the cabin the pilot and two mercs remained. A bullet clanged off the framework at her side. She wasted no time returning fire. She shot the mercs and then stared hard at the pilot.
“You know what to do.”
Without a word he flung open the door and leapt out of the plane. Alicia scrambled into the cockpit and took a look out the panoramic windows. Their own seaplane bobbed even closer now, protected by Crouch and largely untroubled now save for the sudden appearance of the original mercenary plane. Alicia spun and shouted a warning to Russo who switched his attentions from a rebellious merc to the swooping plane. He lifted his aim and opened fire, raking its side as men leaned out to draw a bead on the resting seaplane. Crouch also fired through an open door. Two men slithered out, falling into the sea. The rest jumped back inside as the pilot banked hard.