Damn! How could I have been so stupid? He thought, angry at himself for leaving the last clip in the Sikorsky. He saw the Raven hovering lower and could see the soldier within smiling widely as he brought the rocket launcher out the door of the craft.
Turner knew at that moment he was a dead man. With no place to run and no one to help him, he simply stared at the man aiming the rocket launcher. Watching and waiting for the final sting of death, he suddenly saw the flash of an arrow from the Mathews hunting bow. It struck the neck of the Yakuza guard, piercing it completely. Turner saw the soldier’s eyes widen in pain and shock as he collapsed forward onto the pilot, jamming the flight stick in the same direction. The Raven yawed wildly and began spiraling toward the ground. Hiroshi’s final thoughts were that of his hunting trip as the small helicopter hit the ground and exploded into a fireball.
Turner stood and gazed over to the Sikorsky. He saw his friend Samuel standing at the base of the loading ramp, smiling and slinging the hunting bow over his shoulder. Captain Saune, who rushed over and opened the engine cowling, was busy emptying two fire extinguishers onto the heavily smoking engine.
Snatched from the jaws of death, a relieved Turner ran over to join his friend at the ramp.
“I owe you one, Samuel,” Turner said gratefully. “I thought I was a goner.”
“Hey, what are friends for? Besides, I can’t let you have all the fun,” Samuel replied, smiling and slapping Turner on the back.
“It’s a good thing you’re a good shot,” Turner said, amazed by the precision of his friend's archery skills.
“Remind me to take you hunting back home in the Amazon rainforest someday. I’ll teach you how to use a real long bow. This stuff is for weekend amateurs,” he said in disdain, tossing the bow back up the loading ramp. “I tried at first to set this damn thing up,” he explained, pointing to the Herstal 50-caliber gun, “but the angle was too steep.”
Captain Saune walked over to the two men and tossed the last empty fire extinguisher on the ground. “We were lucky,” he said, wiping his blackened hands on his BDUs. “The electrical system took the brunt of the damage on the starboard engine. If it had hit us a little more forward, we wouldn't be talking right now.”
“Can we still fly with one engine out?” Turner asked the fatigued soldier. “Maria and my father are still in danger.”
“We can, but I can assure you we won’t have a lot of speed or maneuverability,” he answered wearily as the trio headed up the loading ramp. “I’ll get us airborne and see if I can find them.”
He started walking back to the flight deck, while Turner and Samuel remained at the rear, looking out at the still smoking, twisted remains of the Raven helicopter.
The two remaining GE engines whined loudly as the big seven-prop Sikorsky roared to life. They started to slowly lift- off as Turner pulled back the bolt on the Herstal 50-caliber machine gun.
“We won’t need the bow and arrows now,” Turner declared, feeling the anger well inside of him as he thought of all the death and destruction that had occurred since the previous evening.
Weary from the long night, the young archaeologist ached all over and longed to close his eyes. However, the adrenaline now coursing through his body kept him going as they passed over the ridge and headed east; following the route their friends had taken.
“They’ll be okay, Josh,” Samuel said, seeing the trepidation in his friend’s eyes. “Your father will look out for them.”
“God help them if they hurt my father and Maria,” Turner said in an acerbic tone, looking his friend in the eye. “God help them all.”
15
The morning sun wove a tapestry of bright orange and yellow hues across the eastern sky, as seen from the ancient volcanic ridge. The ridge spanned the entire length of the island, from north to south, like the backbone of some primordial beast. Only the sound of Alton Burr’s CJ-5 disturbed the morning calm as it wove its way down the gravel access road.
Burr managed to retrace his route from the Bishamon compound. He now headed towards Guimar and Highway One, which would be the quickest route back to Santa Cruz. The loose and narrow gravel road had many dangerous turns with steep drop-offs that slowed their escape from the island’s high ridge of Mt. Blanco.
Eli saw that Maria was exhausted from the long dreadful night. She had drifted off into a restless sleep in the back seat, while Yashiro, lost in his thoughts, stared out the window.
As they rode, Eli conveyed to Burr what had transpired the night before. He spoke of Pencor’s plans to cause the landslide and unleash the tsunami on the United States.
“You can’t be serious,” Burr said incredulously at hearing the ominous plot recounted by Eli.
“I’m dead serious, Burr, and that fellow in the back seat will validate it. Hopefully, we will be able to stop this wild scheme. Pencor and Osama were more than willing to kill us all to protect his plans and you can bet he won’t give up easily.”
“I want to apologize to you for my boorish behavior yesterday when we met, Dr. Turner,” Burr lied, switching gears in hopes of getting Eli to disclose information about what he discovered in the tomb. “It’s a shame that they destroyed any chance of you discovering relevant artifacts. I’m sure you know of my beliefs and that my zealousness sometimes gets in the way of my desire to find the truth. I hope you understand.”
“Forget about it, Mr. Burr,” Eli countered. “I didn’t exactly help matters much myself. The good news is that we were able to recover another important document from the tomb before Osama’s men showed up. Once we get this mess taken care of, we’re going to search La Palma for the discovery of a lifetime.”
“If I can be of any assistance to you, Dr. Turner, I’d be more than happy to help you in your quest,” Burr continued in his deception. “My private helicopter is at your disposal.”
“I just might take you up on—” his answer was cut short by the explosive shattering of the rear window in the Jeep by a barrage of bullets.
“It’s Osama’s men,” Yashiro yelled, looking out the gaping hole that used to be a window and seeing a black SUV closing in on them.
“Get down!” Maria yelled, snapped awake by the assault and pushing Yashiro to the side. “Those guys just won’t give up.”
“They will not stop until we are all dead,” the tiny Japanese man replied in frustration as he hunkered down in his seat.
“Under my seat, there’s a gun,” Burr yelled at Eli as he sped up in an effort to put more distance between them and their pursuers. Eli fished under his seat and came up with Burr’s Glock 9mm pistol.
“Give it to me, Dr. Turner. I have a clear view from the back,” Maria said.
Eli pulled back the chamber of the Glock, loading the weapon, and handed it to her. Burr slowed the vehicle to negotiate a sharp curve to the right. This allowed the SUV to gain ground on them while Maria sprang up and fired two shots at the menacing vehicle. One bullet harmlessly ricocheted off its bumper, while the other put a hole in the upper left corner of the front windshield. The SUV backed off momentarily, and then began to close the gap once again. Maria took aim and started firing. She emptied the clip as the SUV swerved back and forth in a defensive mode, receiving little damage.
“God, I hate guns!” she yelled in frustration, handing the gun to Eli in the front seat. “Is there any more ammo?”