Alevy said to Mills, “Burn them.” He handed his hat to Mills. “Use this.”
“Right.” Mills took a phosphorus grenade from its Velcro holder on his ankle, set the timer dial at zero, and laid the grenade in the hat. He asked Alevy, “What’s the delay for zero?”
“Seven seconds.”
“Right. Could you open your door a crack?” Mills pulled the timer dial out to arm the grenade and counted to four, then pushed the hat out the door onto the road. “Five, six.”
The lead vehicle, a Zil-6, was about two hundred meters behind them, flashing its lights now and sounding its horn.
“Seven.”
The phosphorus exploded under the first Zil, which veered off the road and crashed into the trees, its fuel tank exploding. Balls of burning phosphorus lifted into the air and ignited the pine trees. The second Zil, a big troop carrier, kept coming, but they drew no fire from it. Mills said, “He’s thinking about where that came from. He doesn’t really want to open fire on the colonel’s car.”
Lisa called out, “Sam! There’s the road to the helipad.”
Hollis hit the brakes and cut the wheel to the right, the Trans Am fishtailing but holding the road. He downshifted, then accelerated up the narrow gravel track. The Pontiac bounced as Hollis floored it, and the speedometer climbed to sixty mph, then seventy.
About two hundred meters ahead Hollis saw the outline of the radio cabin and a dim light in one of its windows. He also saw part of the clearing but couldn’t see the helicopter.
The siren was still wailing, and now the searchlights in the towers were probing into the woods beyond the perimeter. The camp was alive, the six hundred Border Guards were on the move. Hollis said, “We can pick up Brennan on the run.”
Alevy looked out the rear. “That damned troop carrier is coming up. Stop it here and block the road, or they’ll follow us right to the helicopter.”
“Right.” Hollis hit the brakes, and the Trans Am skidded to a halt diagonally across the gravel path. He pulled the keys out of the ignition, then shut off the lights as everyone scrambled out.
The Zil behind them slowed to a stop about a hundred meters away, its headlights illuminating them. Alevy carried Dodson, and Hollis took Burov on his back. Alevy said, “Lisa, run on ahead and tell Brennan we’re coming in.”
Lisa pulled her pistol, then ran down the path.
Hollis could see the shadows of at least ten men leaving the troop carrier and coming toward them. Someone shouted in Russian, “Identify yourselves.”
Alevy said to Mills, “Hold them for a few minutes, Bert.”
“Right.” Mills drew his automatic, rolled under the Trans Am, and waited for the men to draw closer.
Hollis and Alevy began running toward the cabin, carrying Burov and Dodson on their backs.
Mills steadied his aim and fired a full eight-round magazine from his silenced pistol. Someone screamed and immediately the air was cut with the hollow popping noise of AK-47’s on full automatic, sounding like a string of tightly packed firecrackers. The windows of the Trans Am began shattering, and the streaks of green tracer rounds sliced through the black night. Mills reloaded and fired off another eight rounds.
Hollis and Alevy ran hunched over, their feet trying to find traction in the gravel as their burdens became heavier. Hollis still could not see the helicopter in the field.
Lisa, ahead of them, came within twenty meters of the log cabin and called out, “Bill! Bill Brennan!”
A voice called back, “Lisa Rhodes? Come on! Run!”
Lisa sprinted the last twenty meters and ran into the arms of Brennan. He said, “Okay, okay. Take a breath. What’s happening?”
She motioned back down the lane. “Seth and Sam… carrying Dodson and Burov.”
“Who? Oh, yeah. Good. And Mills?”
“Back there. They’re coming. We were chased.”
“I guess so. Okay, get to the chopper, out there in the field—”
“No, I’m waiting—”
“Well, then get into the cabin and stay low. Be right back.” Brennan ran up the lane and met Alevy and Hollis coming toward him. A burst of automatic fire ripped into the boughs above their heads, and they all dove for the ground. Brennan looked at Burov and Dodson and asked, “They hit?”
“No,” Alevy replied. “Resting. Did Lisa—?”
“Yeah, she’s in the cabin.”
“Okay, you take Dodson here and get back to the cabin.”
Brennan got to one knee, and Alevy put Dodson on Brennan’s back. Brennan said, “Couldn’t you find people who could walk?”
The fire from the AK-47’s was pruning the branches above their heads, and the lane was becoming covered with boughs and cones. Hollis saw a mangled squirrel drop beside him. Hollis couldn’t tell if Mills was firing back because of his silencer, but the Border Guards seemed to be moving closer, and he could actually see muzzle flashes through the trees.
Brennan got into a crouch and began running back toward the cabin with Dodson.
Alevy said to Hollis, “Go on, Sam. Mills is my responsibility. Beat it.”
Hollis hefted Burov over his shoulder. “Try to stay alive long enough for me to kick the shit out of you.” Hollis followed Brennan in a low crouch.
Alevy knelt behind a large pine tree to the side of the lane, drew his pistol, and fired randomly into the trees on both sides. Suddenly there was an explosion, and Alevy saw a ball of orange fire erupt up the lane, and he knew the Trans Am had blown. He called out for Mills, but got no answer. Alevy slapped his last magazine into his pistol and began making his way toward the cabin, firing as he went.
Hollis covered the last few feet between the lane and the cabin and sank to his knees in the doorway. Brennan took Burov off his shoulder and laid the unconscious man beside Dodson just inside the door. Hollis stood and noticed that the cabin was dark now, but he could pick out Lisa crouched below a window and nearby three corpses in uniform stacked neatly against a wall. Lisa said, “Sam… are you all right?”
“Fine. Stay low.” Hollis took off the KGB topcoat and threw it over Dodson.
Brennan picked up his Dragunov sniper rifle and went to the window, focusing the night scope on the nearby tree line. He said, “I don’t see Alevy or Mills on the path, but I see figures moving through the trees.” He took aim and fired, the operating rod of the silenced rifle making a metallic noise louder than the muzzle blast. He reaimed and fired again. “It’s a nice rifle, but the scope is not as sharp as ours.”
Hollis saw three AK-47’s stacked against the other window, and near them was a metal ammunition box filled with thirty-round banana clips. He knelt at the window, took a rifle, and knocked out the glass.
Brennan said, “Don’t fire yet, Colonel. They don’t have a fix on this place yet.”
“Right.” Hollis looked at Lisa kneeling beside him. “I’m going back for Seth and Bert.”
She grabbed his arm. “Don’t you owe me something?”
Brennan glanced over at them. “Hey, why don’t one or both of you guys get out there and see if O’Shea’s still hanging around? Tell him what’s happening.”
Hollis took Lisa’s hand and led her to the door. “Keep low.” He pulled her away from the cabin and toward the clearing where they knelt in the knee-high grass. About a hundred meters out, Hollis could see the white helicopter against the black tree line beyond it. Above the sound of the gunfire, Hollis could hear the turbines running. “Do you see it?”
“Yes.”
“Tell O’Shea we’re all right and we’re coming.”
She looked at him. “You’re coming with me.”
“Later.”
“Now!”
Hollis grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “I need you to go out there and tell him we’re coming or he might take off. I have to go back for the others, Lisa.”