Gideon brought up his forearm as he finally got to his feet and slammed it across the guard's neck. For a moment they were face-to-face, and Gideon stared into the guard's wide eyes, and his breath came out in a strangled gasp.
The guard finally let go of the rifle to grab Gideon and push him away. The maneuver was effective, Gideon stumbled on his weakened leg and fell backward. His breath was blown out of him as he fell across the cables that snaked under the door.
The guard folded forward and, gasping, jumped down on Gideon. Gideon grabbed for the man's face, and the guard grabbed for Gideon's neck. Gideon tore into the man's cheek ineffectively as the guard put crushing pressure on his trachea.
Gideon could feel the side of the door slamming into both of them. They had fallen across the entrance, and the other two guards outside were trying to get back in.
Gideon gasped for breath, feeling light-headed, when the stock of the Kalishnikov came down on the back of the guard's head. The guard's grip loosened, and he turned toward the direction of the blow, a stunned expression on his face. Then the stock came again, swinging like a baseball bat across the man's face.
Blood spattered Gideon from a smashed nose and a busted lip as the guard tumbled off him, falling into the small space between him and the door. The two guards outside were still trying to push the door open against the dead weight.
Gideon scrambled to his feet and saw Ruth standing next to him, holding the guard's Kalishnikov. As soon as he was upright, she pushed the gun into his hands. From her expression, he didn't know if it was distaste, or if she just didn't know how to use the thing.
He backed up, hunting maniacally for the safety. He found two switches, and he hit both of them. The crowd of spectators were backing up, and the guards deeper inside the barn had realized that there was something wrong by the uplink.
Gideon edged along the rear wall, facing where the shed door would open. He motioned Ruth with his head; she needed to get away from him. He hoped that he could provide enough of a distraction that she could get away, or at least hide back under the floor. God only knew what was going to happen in the next minute or so.
The door pushed open, one of the guards leading with his shoulder through the doorway. Gideon was prepared this time, and he brought the stock up to connect with the man's chin. Between Gideon's swing, and the guard's momentum, the impact was enough to drop him.
Behind him, Gideon heard a commotion. He didn't need to see what was happening to realize what the sound was. The other guards were pushing through the onlookers who crowded the end of the barn.
Gideon stepped over the two fallen guards, bringing the rifle barrel to bear on the last guard, outside.
Gideon was through the door, and he didn't see anyone. All he saw was the purple sky, a plain of blue, moonlit snow, and the blocky form of the uplink antenna.
Instinct made him dive for the cover of the antenna before he even heard the gunfire. The smell of cordite and superheated metal washed over him as pieces of the uplink sprayed over him, bullets slamming into a mechanism that seemed much too small now.
Gideon faced a quandary now. The guard was at the edge of the barn, and he couldn't return fire without risking a bullet through the wall where it could take out one of the scientists, or Ruth.
The guard didn't keep firing steadily. He was a pro, conserving ammunition, only allowing the occasional bark of some covering fire to keep Gideon pinned down.
Gideon moved slowly around the uplink antenna, putting it between him and the whole barn. He did it in time; he heard the door open and more guards spill out. Gideon turned around and fired the Kalishnikov into the roof, hoping to keep them from moving forward, trying to flank him. The butt of the weapon pressed into his shoulder, igniting the ache of his freshly healed arm.
Someone's voice called to him. Gideon recognized it as Volynskji. "What the fuck are you trying to do here, Malcolm? Toss the gun out."
Gideon looked madly around, watching for guards trying to circle him. He had cover from the barn, but this shed was open to the whole outdoors. He was exposed on every side. The only cover between him and the rest of the world was a pair of flimsy two-by-fours.
Volynskji called again. "This is crazy. You know that we have people surrounding this property. There's no way you can make it out of here. Toss the gun out."
Gideon stared at the two-by-fours holding up the shed's roof. The roof was old, half-rotten, and ran the length of this side of the barn. Moonlight was streaming in the bullet holes he had made in the wood above.
Gideon had a crazy idea.
He braced the weapon better this time as he aimed the gun at the juncture where one of the two-by-fours met the roof. Volynskji was starting to say something again, but his voice was drowned out by the jackhammer of the Kalishnikov firing on full auto. Two of a half-dozen shots splintered the top of the roof's support. Gideon didn't stop firing, he just swung the rifle across to another support. Three bullets clipped it before the Kalishnikov was emptied.
When the firing was over, his ear were numbed, but he could still hear the snap as the first two-by-four went, then the air was filled with the sound of splintering wood.
Gideon threw himself on the ground, tossing away the empty rifle and rolling away from the uplink. The roof of the shed bowed, and then collapsed, its weight too much for the remaining two-by-fours.
Gideon rolled just far enough to clear the roof as it crashed down on the uplink and—more importantly—the guards. When the wood slammed down behind him, Gideon got to his feet and started
running. He needed to find some cover, fast. He felt as if he wore a target on his back as he ran unevenly through the carpet of snow.
Volynskji was right. There was no way for him to get off the property with the way they had this place guarded. He was thinking furiously. First off, he needed cover.
He had two possible destinations. There was the old Victorian house, and sitting in the pasture adjoining the barn there was the shadowy form of a helicopter.
Gideon jumped the rail fence and started running as best as he could to the helicopter. He had no illusions about flying the thing, but it would have a radio on board. He could contact someone outside this place. At this point it didn't matter if it was the CIA, the Highway Patrol, or the Coast Guard. He needed to get word to someone so D'Arcy couldn't summarily disappear this whole operation, him, Ruth—and Julia for that matter.
He was halfway there when he heard the bark of a Kalishnikov behind him. He half-dove, half-tripped over something in the snow. The snow cushioned his fall as his ankle twisted on something half-buried.
The Kalishnikov barked a few more times, but the shots didn't come near him. Gideon wiped the snow out of his face and had to bend to untangle his foot. That was when he saw what had tripped him. His foot was caught in the shoulder strap of another Kalishnikov.
Gideon felt a cold that didn't seem completely from the snow. He half-kicked, half-pulled the Kalishnikov loose from his foot and looked around from his prone position. He couldn't see very far, but he could see a mound in the snow, about two yards from him. The snow there seemed darker, black in the moonlight. Gideon got on his stomach and moved toward it until he could make out the corpse's glassy eyes staring out at him.
The man's throat had been blown apart by a gunshot wound.
Gideon looked around and saw footprints in the snow. One set walked around the helicopter a number of times, ending at the corpse. The other set led straight from a corner of the helicopter to where the body lay, and Gideon thought he could see the tracks leading back toward the woods.