Desperate Ground

by L J Morris

  Checking for anyone patrolling, they kept low and ran over to the basement window. Sinclair curled her fingers around the frame and pulled it open. She looked into the dimly lit machinery room for any movement but there was none. Lying on her back she slid in, feet first, through the window and dropped down on one knee, covering for McGill. ‘Okay, Frank. All clear.’

  McGill pushed his way through the gap. It was more of a tight fit for him and he wouldn’t have been able to defend himself in that position. After one last big push, he was through and joined Sinclair. ‘Bit of a squeeze that.’

  Sinclair smiled. ‘You should stay off the cakes, fat boy.’

  McGill raised his eyebrows. ‘Thanks.’

  They both clambered over the pipework to the walkway. When they reached the maintenance room, Sinclair put her hand on McGill’s shoulder. ‘I want to check on the boys.’

  ‘Okay. Be quick.’

  Sinclair opened the door and tapped on the side of the metal cupboard. ‘It’s me, boys.’

  Tom and Aiden Quinn opened the door and looked at her. ‘Can we come out yet? Where’s Mom?’

  They looked frightened; this was no longer a game for them.

  ‘You just need to hide for a little longer. Mummy will come and get you. You’ll hear some loud bangs and some shooting but you’re safe here. Do you think you can hide a bit longer?’

  The boys both nodded.

  ‘That’s my brave boys. Now, back in the cupboard, I’ll close the door.’

  The Quinns got as comfortable as they could and Sinclair closed the door. She left the maintenance room and re-joined McGill on the walkway.

  ‘Are they okay, Ali?’

  ‘As well as you would expect in the circumstances.’

  ‘That’s good. Now, let’s get ready.’

  They moved quickly along the walkway and up the concrete steps. Pausing at the top, McGill held on to the handle. ‘You ready for this?’

  Sinclair nodded. ‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’

  Chapter 26

  Bazarov and Vadim watched the large display as the countdown continued. The text on the screen flashed as each stage was reached.

  GUIDANCE CODES CONFIRMED: MUZZLE HATCHES OPENING.

  ‘Only twenty minutes to go, Viktor. Nothing can stop us now.’

  Bazarov took out a silver hip flask and unscrewed the lid. ‘Almost time for the start of the new era, Vadim. The new Soviet era.’ He took a drink and passed it across to Vadim.

  Vadim held up the flask in salute. ‘And the downfall of the Americans.’

  Just as the flask reached his lips, the first of the small petrol containers, which were packed around the Rapier launcher, ruptured.

  The explosion started a chain reaction. The first jerrycan burst open in a ball of fire that damaged the other containers. They, in turn, split, and spilled more fuel onto the flames. Explosion after explosion rocked the launcher until the fuel inside one of the missiles gave in to the intense heat. The whole thing went up: petrol containers, missile fuel, warheads. The shockwave bent trees and set fire to foliage as the bright orange mushroom of flame headed skyward.

  Back at the building all the guards ducked at the same time, as the ear-splitting noise of the blast reached them. All of them ran to the front of the compound to try and see where the artillery onslaught was coming from.

  The jungle was in flames. It looked like a scene from a Vietnam War movie; US helicopters napalming a fishing village. Debris, thrown up by the explosion, started raining down on them: lumps of burning wood, sharp fragments of twisted metal and pieces of missile. The guards ran for cover, convinced they were under attack. They were.

  Bazarov instinctively ducked as the noise reached the control room. He’d been under artillery fire in Afghanistan but it wasn’t something you got used to.

  Vadim dropped the hip flask. Of course, he’d never been in combat. ‘What the fuck was that?’

  Bazarov walked over to the swing doors and looked through the window. The guard who had been watching Quinn and Garrison appeared in the corridor. Bazarov pointed at Vadim. ‘You stay here. I’m going to check.’ He pushed open the door and joined the guard.

  As soon as McGill heard the sound of the first blast he looked at Sinclair and they nodded to each other. They checked their weapons and left the basement. They had to get to the other end of the building as quickly as possible without taking any stupid chances. The only people inside who weren’t a threat were the Quinns, Garrison and two or three scientists and engineers. Everyone else was a target to be dropped on sight. There would be no rules of engagement here. No warnings or second chances. Two bullets for each man and move on.

  They moved along both sides of the corridors. One of them moving forwards, checking that doors were locked before covering the other’s advance. They didn’t need to speak, they knew each other so well it was like they were telepathic. Each knowing instinctively what the other was thinking. McGill on one side and Sinclair on the other, door by door, leapfrogging their way towards the control room.

  Vadim didn’t like what he could hear outside. The explosion had rocked the building. It wasn’t some minor problem, this was serious. He wasn’t renowned for his bravery and hadn’t got to his current position of power by putting himself at risk. He regularly put other people at risk, that bit wasn’t a problem, but not himself.

  He moved to the other side of the room and started looking for a way out. Buildings like this always had an emergency exit, no matter how secure they were. It wasn’t a nuclear bunker, it was a lab. He checked along the walls and behind the plastic-wrapped equipment. There was no obvious fire door or escape route but, in one corner, he came across a black painted steel ladder that rose up to a hatch in the ceiling. Checking the doors for Bazarov returning, he started the twelve feet climb up the ladder.

  The hatch at the top was made of thick steel and didn’t move an inch when Vadim pushed against it. He looked for a lock or latch that would release it. To the right of the ladder was a grey, metal box with a large, red handled, switch mounted in the centre. After another nervous check of the doors he grabbed the handle and turned it.

  There was a buzz and an electrical hum as the metal hatch rattled and slid out of the way. Above him, the ladder extended another four feet into a space that was like a small shed. Daylight leaked through louvres in the walls on three sides, with a door making up the fourth wall. He climbed the rest of the ladder and turned the door’s aluminium handle. It opened with a creak and Vadim found himself standing on the roof of the lab.

  The view from the roof didn’t look good. The debris from the explosion littered the compound and the roof. The jungle still burned and Bazarov’s men were running around trying to put out small fires closer to the building. It was time for him to leave.

  Vadim looked for a way down from the roof, but the only ladders he could see would put him back inside the compound amongst Bazarov’s men and the flames. That wasn’t somewhere he was keen to be. The parapet around the roof was only a foot high and, on the left-hand side, the edge was only eight feet from the outside fence. He didn’t relish the idea of jumping but, in this case, self-preservation overcame his natural cowardice. The lush green jungle foliage had grown right up to the fence and should cushion his fall, if he managed to jump that far.

  Over in the lagoon the red seaplane was still tied up to the small jetty. That was his way out, he could fly it. It was no different to the light planes he’d learned to fly during his short military career. He took a few big steps backwards and gave himself every chance to make the jump from the roof. After a couple of deep breaths to get the adrenalin flowing, Vadim sprinted to the parapet and launched himself towards the trees.

  Bazarov stood at the main door and looked at the chaos outside. Where the hell was Sergei? He needed his right-hand man now. They’d obviously underestimated McGill’s ability to cause them trouble. His priority now was to make sure the launch went ahead then he would get him and Vadim out
of there. He told the guard standing next to him to get the chopper warmed up and ready to fly. They would be leaving in less than twenty minutes.

  He took his Colt from the shoulder holster under his arm and strode back to the swing doors. As he turned the corner, he heard a sound behind him. He spun round and saw Sinclair coming at him with an assault rifle tucked into her shoulder. He dived through the doors just as the 5.56mm rounds splintered the wood of the door frame. He bolted the doors from the inside and pulled a heavy desk in front of them while he shouted to Vadim. ‘Take cover. Sinclair’s alive. She’s in here with McGill.’

  Bazarov fired a volley of shots through the door’s window and retreated into the room. ‘Where are you, Vadim? We need to get out.’

  Vadim was already on his way to the seaplane and well out of earshot. Bazarov caught sight of the daylight coming from the roof hatch. He fired two more rounds through the door, to keep Sinclair’s head down, and sidestepped his way to the ladder. As he looked up he could see the open door to the roof and it dawned on him. Vadim had bailed on him; abandoned their mission at the first sign of trouble. ‘Bastard.’ He’d always had his suspicions about Vadim. This confirmed what he had thought all along. Vadim wasn’t committed to the cause like he was; he was just in it for the power.

  Bazarov looked over at the control panel. He had to destroy it. At least then no one could stop the launch. More text flashed on the screen.

  MUZZLE HATCHES OPEN: ARMING GAS GENERATORS.

  He walked over to the desk and took aim at the keyboard. The swing doors shuddered as something heavy slammed into them from the outside. Before Bazarov could pull his trigger, the window shattered and the muzzle of an assault rifle came through the gap. Bullets whistled through the air past his head. He hit the floor and crawled to the other side of the room, taking cover behind a large metal equipment rack.

  He checked his automatic, three rounds left. He didn’t have a spare magazine, he hadn’t been expecting a firefight on his own. Bullets pinged off the steel rack and the swing doors began to give in to the onslaught from the corridor.

  He stood up and waited for a break. As soon as the shooting stopped, he stepped out from behind his cover and fired his three remaining bullets, in quick succession, at the control panel. There was no time to check what damage had been done. He dropped his weapon and sprinted towards the ladder to the roof.

  McGill slammed the fire extinguisher into the doors and they finally moved enough for Sinclair to slide through the gap. She pulled the desk out of the way and McGill followed her.

  Sinclair looked at the damaged console and at the clock on the screen. ‘Only ten minutes, Frank. Get Jo in here. She has to stop this. I’m going after Bazarov.’ She ran across to the ladder and climbed up through the roof hatch.

  Chapter 27

  Vadim knelt at the edge of the jungle that bordered the compound. Sweat ran into his eyes and stung the multitude of cuts he had picked up during his jump from the roof. He dabbed at his face with the sleeve of his shirt and wiped his eyes. He’d known that coming here was a bad idea as soon as Bazarov had suggested it. Vadim wasn’t an idealist – he was in this for the money and the power. Resurrecting a strong Soviet Union was a way to get that. Right now, all he cared about was getting clear. He didn’t want to die and he wouldn’t survive in prison. Taking that kind of risk was what he paid Bazarov to do.

  He looked through the fence to where Bazarov’s men were running around like cockroaches suddenly exposed to daylight. They weren’t looking for him. Burning debris was raining down on their heads – they had bigger fish to fry. The lagoon’s jetty and the Kodiak were only one hundred yards from his position. If he could make it to the seaplane, he could get away. It was only a short flight to Cuba and he had friends there.

  He crawled out from his hiding place, looking back at the compound as he went. No one was even looking in his direction. He got to his feet and, keeping his head down, ran to the jetty. He untied the rope from the wooden bollard and got into the pilot’s seat.

  After two attempts the engine spluttered into life and he steered the Kodiak out on the lagoon. He lined up the nose of the aircraft to give himself plenty of room and increased the power. The engine’s revs approached the red line and the seaplane’s floats skimmed across the surface before lifting into the air. Vadim pulled back on the joystick and the Kodiak climbed as it flew over the compound. He looked at the chaos below and smiled to himself. He was a survivor; that’s how he’d become so successful.

  Sinclair exited onto the roof and watched the small red plane climb into the air over the rising pall of black smoke that hung above the island. She considered firing off a few rounds to try and bring it down but she didn’t have the ammunition for that. Her priority was taking down Bazarov. After everything he’d done there was no way she was letting him out of her grasp. Vadim could wait for another day. She was sure she’d see his face again.

  She skirted around the edge of the roof looking for Bazarov. She was sure he would have had an escape plan in place. Now that Vadim had flown the coop, Bazarov would be in full self-preservation mode.

  When Sinclair reached the other side of the roof she saw something. Standing at the far corner of the building was a figure hiding behind packing crates. She could see enough to recognise Bazarov’s jacket. She took aim but it would be an almost impossible shot. She could only see the edge of his shoulder and arm. The best she could do was wound him, but the most likely outcome was that she would just warn him she was there.

  In the distance Sinclair could make out two shapes approaching over the ocean. They were moving too slowly to be jets. She thought she could make out spinning rotor blades – at least she hoped she could. With any luck this was an assault team coming in. They’d take care of the guards, Frank, Jo and the boys would be safe, she had to stop Bazarov.

  The Chinook on the helipad was starting up its engines and the Russian was waiting before he made a dash for it. Sinclair still had time to catch him. She slung her weapon across her back and climbed on the ladder that led down the back of the building.

  * * *

  The two Knighthawk helicopters came in low, over the lagoon, and flew over the compound. The door gunner opened up with the mini gun, cutting through Bazarov’s men and sending the few who remained running for cover. They weren’t paid enough for this, all they wanted to do now was survive, but the marines had other plans.

  Ropes rolled down from both sides of the Knighthawks and green clad men slid to the ground, dispersing across the compound. When Halloran touched down, the helicopters peeled away and headed for the other side of the lagoon, away from the firefight.

  Two of the guards made a run for it but Halloran’s men cut off their escape. As the Russians turned their weapons towards the Americans, the marines’ M4s dropped them where they stood.

  By the time Sinclair reached the corner of the building where Bazarov had been standing, the firefight at the front of the building was in full flow. She recognised the sound of the Knighthawk’s multi-barrelled mini gun and was glad she was nowhere near it. Bazarov had used the assault as a distraction and taken his chance to make a run for the Chinook.

  As the marines closed on the Russians, the rest of the guards made one last dash for safety. All six of them stood as one. Two faced up to the marines and opened fire; they were dead before their magazines had emptied. The other four ran off: two in one direction, two in the other. Dust kicked up as M4 rounds hit the dirt around them but they didn’t stop. One by one they dropped as the marines zeroed in on them. After only five chaotic, bloody, minutes, all of the guards lay dead.

  As soon as the shooting stopped Sinclair set off through the undergrowth to follow Bazarov. She caught sight of him as he reached the edge of the helipad. The Chinook’s tailgate was down and the aircraft was ready to fly. She brought her weapon up to her shoulder and fired off three quick shots. Her aim was rushed and her heart was pounding. The shots were wide of the mark and Bazaro
v dived for cover.

  She had to stop him escaping. She loaded her last magazine into the assault rifle and unloaded into the helicopter. Bullets tore through the fuselage and smashed into instruments. One of the crew slumped in his seat, a gaping wound in his neck. The pilot took a round to his shoulder and blood seeped through the fabric of his flight suit.

  Sinclair threw her assault rifle to one side, all of her ammunition spent. She and Bazarov stood up in unison and sprinted for the helicopter’s tailgate as the pilot, who had decided it was time to leave with or without his passenger, turned the throttle. Bazarov made it inside and was immediately thrown forwards as the pilot fought with the controls of the stricken aircraft and tried to take off. Sinclair dived, full length, and landed on the tailgate as it closed and the Chinook’s wheels left the ground.

  Chapter 28

  McGill sprinted out of the control room and smashed his boot into the lock on the door of the other lab. It wasn’t a solid door and it gave way easily under the force of McGill’s kick. The wood around the lock split and the door swung open. Jo Quinn, Garrison, and two engineers cowered in the far corner, not knowing what to expect. McGill lowered his weapon and gestured with the barrel. ‘Everyone, get in here. Switch this thing off before it’s too late.’

  They all hesitated, like deer caught in the headlights of a car that was about to kill them. None of them were accustomed to the violence that was all around them.

  ‘NOW.’

  McGill stepped forwards and pulled Quinn to her feet, pushing her through the door. Garrison, shocked into action, used a chair to climb stiffly to his feet, and the two engineers followed on behind.

  When they arrived in the control room, Quinn was working frantically on the keyboard. ‘Help me. I need power for the scanner.’