“Shit, Nate. I hate it when you do this.”
“I’ll be okay. We’ve got the radios.”
“You gave me your word.”
“Absolutely, you have my word.”
“Estefan and I are going to lay low and let our enemy come to us. Good hunting, partner. Don’t get your ass killed. I like my world with you in it.”
“Relax, Harv. Raven doesn’t stand a chance.”
CHAPTER 31
Nathan Daniel McBride ran.
He knew this would push his physical endurance to the limit. Mind over matter, he told himself. Although he could run faster than his current pace, he wouldn’t be able to sustain it. He had to find the right balance between going too slowly and exhausting himself prematurely.
In less time than it took for Raven to land and shut down the helicopter, Nathan needed to sprint more than nine hundred yards up a steep road, in unfamiliar territory, in the dead of night, and face an unknown number of enemy combatants — one of whom was a sniper who’d been trained by none other than himself.
Although he’d told Harv that Raven didn’t have a chance, he didn’t believe it for a second. Barring some kind of miracle, if Raven saw Nathan first, it was over.
Though it bore its own risks, separating from Harv and Estefan had been the best tactical decision. If all three of them pursued the helicopter, the men Raven had dropped to the south of Santavilla would retake the lumber mill and add an extra man to their numbers. Raven’s cousin was out of the fight, but the white shirt could still join the fray, assuming his brain wasn’t hemorrhaging from Estefan’s pistol-whipping. Harv’s plan to remain at the lumber mill’s office was solid. Nathan had no way to know if Raven had actually dropped gunmen off at the south end of town or not. His brief landing there could have been a ruse. If Nathan had taught Raven anything, it was to use deception to his advantage, especially when facing the unknown. Still, if Raven had dropped men on the south end of town, they were no more than ten minutes away from Harv’s position.
“Harv, you copy?”
“I’m here.”
“Can you still hear the ship?”
“Barely. As far as I can tell, it hasn’t descended yet.”
“You and Estefan should switch Sigs so you have the suppressed weapon.”
“We already did.”
“Where’s the girl?”
“She’s still with us. She doesn’t want to go home.”
“It’s your call, Harv.”
“She won’t make trouble.”
“Raven’s men might approach from the river.”
“We’ll be ready. We need a new scatter point.”
“If I go silent for more than thirty minutes, give White Shirt a flesh wound in the leg, lose the girl, and take Estefan up to our original SP. Wait there for me.”
“Silent for thirty minutes? As in… you’re dead?”
“Don’t assume the worst… it may only be a radio issue.”
“A lot can happen in half an hour.”
“Confirm for me what you remember about where I’m headed from the aerials.”
“The photos only covered the south half of the pit mines. The road you’re on turns right at a small pass between two peaks up there. It follows the side of the mountain and begins a gradual descent into the open-pit-mine area. I recall seeing some wide, flat sections on the road that looked like fill areas. The right side of the road looked really steep, nearly vertical in places.”
“Could Raven land on the road up there on those wider areas?”
“I don’t think so, but I’m not one hundred percent sure.”
“Those are spoil dumps,” Estefan added. “From adits.”
“Adits?” Nathan asked.
“Raven just throttled down,” Harv cut in, “but I seriously doubt he’s landed yet. If I’m right, I should hear him increase power for the landing.”
Nathan spoke between breaths. “I can’t hear much over my breathing.”
“Save some energy, Nate.”
“Yeah, I have to slow down… or I’ll be trashed at the top.”
“Nate, we don’t have to engage Raven and his men right now. We can easily slip away and wait for a better opportunity.”
“Let’s play this out… We can fall back on that… if things go south.”
“Your ghillie won’t help you much during your sprint up the middle of the road. Keep your head up as best you can and stop running near the top. If you don’t get immediate eyes on Raven, beat feet into the cover of the trees and put it on. He might have an NV scope with TI capability. The ghillie will help mask your heat signature.”
“Will I have a clear view… of the whole basin from the pass?”
“You should. There are some trees here and there, but it looked like the moon up there. Raven will have multiple places to land.”
“Antonia told me that Raven… always keeps two men with him… I think you can count on facing two… possibly three men moving in from the south.”
“Copy. You sound winded. Don’t burn all your energy going up that road. You’re carrying almost thirty pounds of gold.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“Nate, you can pull your pack off and toss the bars while you’re running. We’ll find them later. They’re not worth your life.”
Nathan could only imagine Estefan’s horrified expression, but he strongly considered doing it. With each stride, the gold banged against the small of his back like a meat tenderizer. “I’ll deal with it… I’m going radio silent… to breathe.”
He sucked in a few quick deep breaths to recover from talking. The burn in his legs returned in force as the road began a steeper ascent along the east side of the canyon. He caught a faint echo of Raven’s main rotor, looked up, and nearly fell. He needed to watch his footing. The road had loose rocks, ruts, and potholes.
Concentrating on his breathing, he drew in a lungful every three strides and exhaled three strides later. The sounds of his footfalls became a metronome, and he used the rhythm to regulate his breathing. Step-step-step, inhale; step-step-step, exhale.
Mind over matter, he repeated to himself. He’d been through worse physical ordeals — a lot worse.
After two hundred yards the road steepened even more, forcing Nathan to slow in order to maintain the same energy output. To take his mind off the hideous muscle burn, he imagined himself in a helicopter watching the vertical speed indicator rise as he traded velocity for an increase in climb rate. He applied left cyclic and a tiny amount of left pedal to stay centered in the middle of the road as it took a hairpin turn toward the west. He envisioned the compass needle gradually rotating counterclockwise toward 270 degrees.
Harv’s voice broke his trance. “He must be down, Nate. I don’t hear anything. He can’t leave the helicopter until he shuts down, but his men can get out. How are you doing?”
“I’ve got a rhythm going… I’m in the zone.”
“Be careful, partner.”
“Count on it.”
On a whim, he pulled his cell and checked for a signal. Nothing yet, but he might get a connection at the rim. He’d check again later. Knowing it would cost a few seconds, he stopped running and held his breath for an instant. Hearing nothing but crickets and trickling water, he continued running.
His legs screamed for oxygen, and he increased the frequency of his breathing. He flashed back to his boot camp days and silently sang a cadence from Full Metal Jacket to control his strides. Up in the mornin’ to the rising sun, gonna run all day till the runnin’s done. Ho Chi Minh is a son of a bitch, got the blue-ball crabs and the seven-year itch.