‘Watch Tony,’ Adam told Baxter as he ran to Bianca. Perez pulled the pilot behind the scrap pile. ‘He’s behind that building!’ he warned the troops, pointing.
‘Adam, I’ve just spotted the Hind,’ Kyle said.
‘How long before it gets here?’
‘A few minutes, but it’s coming at full steam. You’ve got to get out of there.’
‘That’s the plan. Bianca, are you ready?’
She regarded the writhing pilot, appalled. ‘We can’t make a transfer from him! He’s been shot!’
‘Yeah, and we’ll be shot in about three minutes if you don’t. The gunship’s coming back!’
She hesitated, then began to put the skullcap on the Russian’s head. He cried out, babbling. ‘Hold him down,’ she told Perez.
Adam took the jet injector from the case, then sat with his back against the scrap pile. ‘This is still set for the right dose, yes?’
‘It should be,’ Bianca replied. He brought the device to his neck. ‘No, wait! I’ll do it.’
‘No time.’ He gasped at the sharp pain, then lay back and waited for the drug to take effect.
He felt al-Rais’s persona clawing at his mind, desperate to hold on as the Neutharsine washed through it. But even the terrorist leader’s willpower was not enough to resist the chain reaction of chemical processes. The other voice in his head seemed to scream before dissolving to nothingness…
‘Adam!’ He opened his eyes to see Bianca leaning over him anxiously, and realised that his own skullcap was now in place. ‘Did it work? Is al-Rais’s persona gone?’
‘I… I think so.’ He tried to think of the Saudi’s parents, his lovers. No memories came to him. ‘Are you ready?’
She had the other injector primed with a dose of Hyperthymexine. ‘Yes, but… he’s injured, I don’t know what’ll happen. It might kill him!’
‘It’s our only chance. Do it!’
Reluctantly, she injected the co-pilot. He let out a gurgling shriek, flecks of spittle around his mouth tinged with blood. Bianca grimaced, then activated the PERSONA.
At the jetty, Tony struggled to sit up. ‘John,’ he groaned. ‘Give me a hand.’
Baxter pulled him into a crouch. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m gonna need a truckload of Advil, but I’ll live.’ He reached into his coat and took out his silenced SIG. ‘Where’s al-Rais?’
‘Somewhere behind that building.’
‘Adam?’
‘With Childs. They’re using the machine on the pilot.’
‘Damn it. I told him — never mind.’ His headset had been dislodged; he fumbled it back into place. ‘Holly Jo, Kyle, what’s the situation?’
‘Chopper’s coming in fast,’ Kyle warned.
‘Okay, whatever happens here, you need to be ready to get into the air. Tell the pilot to start the engines and stand by. If you lose contact with us, then he takes off immediately and heads back to US airspace at maximum speed. Understand?’
‘But we can’t leave you behind,’ protested Holly Jo.
‘If that Hind does what it was designed to do, there won’t be anything of us left behind. That’s an order, okay? Tell him to power up, now.’
‘What do we tell the Russians?’
‘Anything you have to. Just get the plane ready for takeoff. Out.’ He exchanged a grim look with Baxter, then they turned their eyes and weapons back to the search for al-Rais.
Despite the cold, Bianca was sweating. She watched the columns of scrolling figures with a growing sense of hopelessness. ‘Come on, faster,’ she muttered, willing the numbers to speed up — but knowing that they wouldn’t.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at the pilot, shuddering in the snow. Instead she checked Adam. His eyes were flickering as he took in the Russian’s memories. Another look at the screen. What had been normal was now excruciatingly slow. ‘Come on!’
Perez scuttled from the scrap pile to duck behind an overturned mine cart some forty feet away. Rifle raised, he surveyed the woods opposite before glancing up at the mine. ‘Dr Childs — you’d better move back into the trees.’
‘I can’t leave them,’ she protested, indicating the two men beside her.
‘You need to get out of sight.’ A distant drumming became audible, the rapid tattoo echoing off the surrounding hills. ‘We’re about to have company!’
With a despairing look at Adam, Bianca unwillingly backed up to the trees. The sound grew louder—
The gunship rose over the summit like a bird of prey and swooped down towards the lake.
Fire flashed from the Hind’s nose with a fearsome chainsaw rasp as its twin-barrelled autocannon spewed out fifty rounds every second. A line of eruptions ripped along the ground. They raced towards the Vityaz — which shook under the metallic hammer-blows before disintegrating in a blinding fireball, a black mushroom cloud swelling skywards.
But the line didn’t stop there. It raced snake-like through the cutting, hunting for prey — then finding it, and striking.
The cart was no protection against the gunship’s explosive 30mm rounds. They ripped through it, shattering the corroded steel — and hitting the man behind it. Perez didn’t even have time to scream as he was torn apart by shells and shrapnel.
And the deadly serpent raced on, seeing more victims ahead — the pilot and Adam, lying helpless on the ground—
The line of fire suddenly swerved. Shells hit the pile of rusted scrap rather than the men behind it as the Hind banked. The gunship blasted overhead, rotor wash kicking up a freezing whirlwind of snow in its wake. It crossed the shoreline and headed out over the lagoon, beginning a long, sweeping turn for a second attack.
The downdraught had dislodged lumps of snow from the trees, leaving Bianca covered. Coughing, she shook off the icy deposits and looked out with trepidation into the cutting. To her relief, Adam was unharmed — but the sight of what was left of Perez almost made her vomit. Acidic bile burning in her throat, she stumbled out into the open and crouched beside the agent, wiping snow off the PERSONA.
The activity on the screen was dying down. Heart pounding, Bianca pulled off a glove and stabbed at the keyboard. CALCULATING LATENCY ESTIMATES. The figures finally appeared. They were only just within the limits she had been taught were acceptable — but she didn’t care. ‘Adam, wake up!’
She tugged at the skullcap. Adam stirred — and sprang upright with an anguished scream. Bianca fell backwards in fright. He clutched at his side, wailing in Russian — then stopped, panting.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Bianca gasped.
‘His strongest memory — it’s being shot!’ He looked down at himself, almost surprised to find that he was unhurt. ‘I thought I’d been shot too.’
‘You nearly were! The helicopter — it killed Perez!’ Keeping her eyes averted, she pointed towards the mine carts.
‘Jesus,’ said Adam as he saw the dead man. He looked for the Hind. It was still making its turn; the heavily armoured flying tank did not possess dragonfly manoeuvrability. ‘Get the gear packed up. We’ve got to get to the plane.’
‘Can you fly it?’
Despite the tension of the situation, the emotion that crossed his face was embarrassment. ‘Ah… kind of.’
‘What do you mean, “kind of”?’
‘I mean, this guy was still learning! He’s only made two takeoffs from water, and both times he had an instructor helping.’
‘Well, that’s just fantastic!’ Bianca started to remove the co-pilot’s electrode cap, only to pull back in horror. The Russian was still and silent, unmoving eyes staring at the leaden sky. ‘Oh, God!’
Adam knew what she was thinking. ‘You didn’t kill him,’ he assured her, indicating the spreading red stain in the snow at the pilot’s side. ‘Al-Rais shot him, not you.’