Ahead, the trees were thinning. Drake stopped near the outer perimeter, checking the lay of the land.
“Short slope down to a flat field,” he said. “Perfect for the chopper. Shit, even a Swede could hit a target that big.”
“Three minutes to rendezvous,” Lauren said.
Hayden leaned close to Drake. “How’s it looking?”
“No sign of enemies.” He shrugged. “But considering who we’re dealing with why would there be?”
Dahl approached. “Same here. They’re out there all right, but well hidden.”
“And you can be sure they’re heading this way,” Mai said. “Why are we waiting?”
Dahl eyed Drake. “The Yorkshire Pudding needs a breather.”
“One day,” Drake said, giving the terrain a final glance. “You’re gonna say something really surprisingly hilarious, but until then please, just speak when you’re spoken to.”
They eased out of the tree line, advancing down the sharp, grassy slope. A warm breeze greeted Drake, a pleasant sensation after the cloying stand of trees. The entire area was empty and fenced off close to where it ended at a stretch of tarmac far ahead.
“Move it now,” Drake said. “We can set up a perimeter on the flat land.”
But then the peace and emptiness of the entire area was shattered. The SPEAR team raced downhill, whilst to their left the Russians poured from where they’d been concealed. Ahead of both of them, sheltered by a far copse, the French also burst into view.
At least, that was Drake’s take on things. They weren’t exactly wearing name tags, but the features and bearings were strikingly different.
At the same time, their chopper appeared in the skies above.
“Oh shit.”
To his left, a Russian dropped to one knee and steadied a rocket launcher across one shoulder.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Drake spun mid-step, and opened fire. His bullets tore up the grass around the elite soldier but didn’t spoil his preparations. The rocket launcher never wavered; the arm balancing it remained firm. His comrades fanned out all around him, returning fire. Drake suddenly found himself in a world of danger.
The French ran hard straight for the landing chopper. Drake, along with Dahl and Smyth, kept the Russians at bay and wary. The pilot’s face was visible, focused on a place to land. Alicia and Mai didn’t slow one bit, and waved to catch his attention.
Bullets laced the air.
Drake winged one of the Russian, sending him to one knee. Hayden’s voice thundered across the comms.
“Pilot, evade! Lauren tell him, they have rockets!”
Drake, Dahl and Smyth battered the Russian contingent, but they remained too far away to line up properly, especially whilst moving. The pilot looked up, face stricken.
The RPG fired, the missile shooting out with a whoosh of air and a hefty clap. Drake and the others could only watch helplessly as it left a trail in the air and flew unerringly straight toward the chopper. Panicking hard, the pilot made a jerky evasive maneuver, banking the helicopter, but the streaking rocket was too fast, impacting with the underside and exploding in a billow of smoke and flame. The chopper lurched and fell, pieces falling away and hurtling beyond its flight path.
It was only then, as he stared in disbelief, distress and grim anger that he saw where its terrible trajectory would take it.
The French saw it coming and tried to scatter, but the devastated helicopter smashed to the ground among them.
Drake hit the ground, burying his head inside a divot. Red and orange flames shot upward and outward, and black smoke billowed up at the sky. The bulk of the chopper landed on one man; he and the pilot dying instantly. A rotor blade sheared away and passed clean through a third unfortunate, so fast and sudden he knew nothing about it. Drake looked up to see another struck by an enormous chunk of burning debris. The force of the blow knocked him off his feet and a dozen steps backward, after which he ceased all movement.
Only two Frenchmen remained alive; the bulk of the team devastated in one unfortunate incident. Drake saw one of them crawling away from the raging fire, his arm singed, and the other staggering over. Somehow, the second managed to cling to a weapon and help his comrade away at the same time.
Drake swallowed his rage and kept a tight hold on his focus. Their only method of extraction was down, destroyed. Hayden still held the box, but now the Russians were rushing at them, intentions absolutely apparent. The man with the RPG was still aiming at the wreckage as if considering a second strike.
Drake rose and the team rose with him. Moving away from the Russians and toward the fire, they laid down a net of cover that forced their enemies to lie low. Drake and Dahl both struck men in their vests, sending them sprawling. The seething flames reached for them as they came closer, sharp pops and heavy creaks bursting from within. Drake felt the wash of it across his face and then ducked around the blind side. The remaining French were already far away, struggling with their wounds and losses, and clearly out of the conflict for now.
Drake spun on one knee, keying the comms.
“Chopper down,” he said to confirm with Lauren, then: “We need another mode of evac right now.”
The reply was subdued. “On it.”
The team continued to back away, putting some distance between the flaming obstacle and the oncoming enemy. Incredibly, and callously, the Russian with the RPG loosed another missile at the already demolished chopper, sending further gouts of flame and shrapnel into the air.
Drake felt a chunk of metal glance off his shoulder and spun around with the impact. Dahl glanced over but the Yorkshireman nodded—I’m okay.
Alicia pointed them toward the far fence. “That road’s the only option. Hoof it, people!”
Hayden steadied the box and ran. Smyth and Kinimaka stayed at the back, keeping the fire between themselves and the Russians. Drake scanned the ground ahead, always ready for more surprises and expecting the worst. The Chinese were somewhere, and the Israelis, Swedes and Brits were in the wind.
Their speed distanced them from the pursuing Russians and they arrived at the fence with time to spare. Alicia and Mai cut a way through and then they were standing on the other side, next to a two-lane stretch of blacktop that vanished both ways into a seeming wilderness. Lauren hadn’t come back to them as yet, but they left her to her devices, knowing DC would be helping.
Drake wasn’t filled with a huge amount of confidence. He didn’t blame Lauren — the New Yorker was treading fresh waters, but nothing so far on this mission told him the men and women sitting safe and warm in the Capitol fully had their backs.
Alicia set out at a jog. It was an increasingly odd scenario. Drake knew the Russians had to have some kind of backup. Maybe it was on its way.
“Look there,” Kenzie spoke up.
Approximately half a mile ahead, a black SUV had stopped to pick up the struggling Frenchmen. As they watched it made a fast one-eighty in the road, loaded the two operatives and then screeched away.
“Poor bastards,” Dahl said.
“We should worry about ourselves,” Smyth said. “Or we’re gonna end up the ‘poor bastards’ too.”
“Grumpy has a point,” Alicia said, scanning all directions. “Seriously, we have nowhere to go.”
“Bury the box.” Kinimaka indicated a stand of trees close to the road. “Come back for it later. Or ask Lauren to send another team.”
Drake looked at Dahl. “Shouldn’t be too difficult, eh?”
“Too risky,” Hayden said. “They could find it. Intercept the message. Besides, we need this information. The other teams might already be headed for the third Horseman.”