“Excellent idea,” I smile, “But this will be faster.” A bank of six large switches by the door look like they’re the main power supply. Flipping off the first two shut off all the machines in the room except for the laptops. Katya shuts the lids of those. The next switches put off the lights in the control room and the last three shut off all the lights in the hangar outside.
At the same time, we hear shots outside and the crack of an explosion. Then another.
I can only see one other way out. “Can you jump from the window down to the stage?”
Her eye twinkles. “Can you?”
Without a moment of hesitation, she vaults through the space of the window. I grab the ledge and spring through the gaping window after her. The platform shakes as I land, hard. Nobody turns to notice us. The beetles at the main entrance all bustle around the trucks and the broken Beechcraft. Faced out and away, they’re shooting.
They’re already too busy with a firefight coming from the outside.
The cluster of beetles by the door to the left of the stage are facing outward and firing, too.
Kursk is nowhere to be seen.
I take Katya off the stage and we headed toward a van to use for cover. Wherever I put us we’ll be exposed, either to the front of the hangar or to the side. I pull open the door and usher Katya into the van.
My phone rings. As I clamber into the van, I pull the phone from my pocket. The screen tells me it’s Mikhail.
“Boss? You’re inside that big hangar, right?”
“Sure, Mikhail. Where are you?”
“Outside. You need to get out, though. Carmine wants to fill the place with rocket fire. A pal of his is coming with a chopper.”
“You’re here? With Carmine?”
“Sure, Boss. I told you, I tracked your phone.” Of course he did.
“So that’s you shooting outside?”
“That’s us. Konstantin’s crew and Medved’s came along with Carmine’s men. Can you get to the side door?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, can you stay well back and away from it for about half a minute?”
“We’re clear of it now.”
A rattling burst of continuous gunfire blasts into the side door. The beetles that don’t fall immediately turn and run for the main doorway. But they also run into me as I step sideways out of the van with a machine pistol in each hand. Katya’s behind me with her hands on my shoulders. She’s close against my back.
I really feel like I’m protecting her now. The feeling is sensational. It’s magnified because I know at the same time, she’s more than capable of taking care of herself. Probably much more than she even knows.
Mikhail waves from the side door. For a fraction of a second, I give in to the marvelous feeling of Katya’s body pressed against my back. Then I reach back for her hand and take her quickly to the door where Mikhail is waiting.
I tell him, “Kursk is here somewhere but I can’t see him now.”
“You should get out of here, Boss.”
A couple of small armies of guys surround the hangar with weapons pointed inward. The tribal lines are obvious. All the Russians are dressed in high-end American and French tailoring. Italian mobsters are all in Armani and Prada suits. They’re all dressed like a fashion show on a battlefield.
“Mikhail,” I tell him, “We have to take out the airfield.”
“Luka’s your guy for that.”
“Luka?” The name is familiar.
“Helicopter pilot. He’ll be here in a few minutes. And we should get a good long way from the hangar before he arrives.”
Mikhail drives us in a Jeep to the far edge of the airfield. A line of black SUVs is there. Carmine and Caterina are there, observing the action with field glasses. They both wear black leather coats and blue jeans. Caterina looks as much of a battlefield commander as Carmine.
I tell them, “We were right. Maleovich is behind it all. All of this is part of an orchestrated takeover. Maleovich has a fleet of transporter planes on their way here. He’s aiming to take the whole of the Manhattan business.”
Caterina’s eyelids droop. “He’s mad.”
I smiled, “He sounds pretty crazy.”
Carmine is as relaxed as always. “He would have to be. Transporters, flying from Russia?”
“At least four. They were over Greenland and passing into Quebec about ten minutes ago.”
Carmine calls a group of half a dozen men over. He tells them to take vehicles from around the hangar. “Drive them along the runway and park them about halfway along the length of it.” They’re about to leave. “Wait just a couple of minutes, though.”
The grinding roar of a Blackhawk helicopter grows loud and hammers near. Seemingly out of nowhere the dark bird swoops low to the ground to hang in the air in front of the hangar door. A burst of rocket fire blasts from the chopper, in through the hangar door.
A dozen loud thumps are followed by billows of thick black smoke. Blooms of gasoline fire blossom out of the doorway.
The Blackhawk’s rocket tubes spit again. The air shakes. At the back of the building, the roof bursts open and boiling fire bubbles upward.
Carmine tells his men, “Now. Get some trucks.”
He calls on a heavy walkie-talkie. “Luka?” The Blackhawk slowly rotates to face us. “I’ve got another job for you before you go.”
hold tight to Vassily’s arm. A few of the beetles are still left fighting around the hangar but they seem to be losing heart. They’re at the point of giving up, just where nobody wants to be the first. Then there’s a rumble in the sky. The beetles look up and cheer. And they start fighting back harder. The Russian mobsters and the Italians are having to fight hard to hold their ground.
The helicopter moves to hover near, swaying barely inches above the ground. Vassily runs forward.
Watching Vassily climb up into the helicopter, I get a rush of complicated feelings that I am not prepared for. He looks like a hero in a movie and, like a hero, I’m afraid for him. It’s a surprise because I don’t remember the last time I had such a genuine surge of feeling for a man. Or for anyone, I guess, but especially not for a man.
He’s barely inside when the helicopter lifts and turns away. His eyes are on me and I feel a shock and a pang at the same time, watching him go. The chopper stays frighteningly low to the ground and heads out along the runway. When the half-dozen vehicles stop, the chopper hangs low, just a couple of feet above the cement. It waits there for the drivers to haul themselves aboard.
Then its tail lifts and it rises backward into the air away from the huddle of trucks and vans.
A single, lone beetle has scampered along the ground. He’s got a long tube over his shoulder. It’s pointed up at the helicopter. I grab the handset from Carmine. He looks at me like he’ll rip my head off, but then he holds back.
I shout, “Vassily, there’s a man with a rocket launcher under the helicopter.”
In a jolt, the helicopter rises and reverses.
On the ground, white smoke puffs out of the back of the beetle’s tube. Something black shoots out of the front. Like an angry firework, it makes a corkscrew trail in the air. It’s headed straight for where the helicopter had been.
Then it turns. Points straight at the canopy of the cockpit. The helicopter drops, fast. It spins as the missile passes above the pilot. It looks like it’s gone through the blades. Then the chopper spins and leans over. A rocket shoots from under the pilot’s cabin. It finds the missile. The two projectiles explode. the chopper shakes and lurches. Then it turns slowly. Points nose down at the runway. Rockets fire in two volleys, into the trucks on the ground. Still dropping fast, the chopper turns again. It’s barely a couple of feet above cement, facing the fleeing beetle.
A short burst of machine-gun fire stops him. Then the helicopter’s nose turns back. A volley of rockets slams into the vehicles on the ground.
The first volley of rockets lifted the vans and trucks into the air. They fall bac
k, crumple onto their noses or flop on their sides, shaking as their gas tanks explode. the chopper puts two more missiles into the center of the wreckage. Carmine’s walkie-talkie crackles.
The pilot’s voice crackles on the walkie-talkie. “I don’t think anyone will be landing there today.” the helicopter is turning again as the pilot says, “Thanks for the heads up, mystery angel. Saved our bacon up here. We would have been frying instead of flying.”
Just then, out of the burning hangar, an executive jet cannons through the smoke and flame. Its engines scream as it dashes along the runway. Just before it reaches where the chopper hovers, it swerves left and points its nose straight up. It takes off and banks hard, then it flies away at speed.
With its nose down, the helicopter darts off in pursuit. My heart jumps. They follow the small jet over the horizon until I lose sight of them. Standing close to Carmine I listen as hard as I can to hear his communication from the helicopter. The pilot describes his direction, his height, his speed. He gives his position and course like he was talking to air traffic control or a military command.
Eventually, he reports that the ‘target’ is flying over a populated area. “I can’t attack while he’s over civilian areas. I have to break off.”
“No point in you trying to follow him?”
“His aircraft is faster, and his range is more than four times what mine is. All he needs to do is to stay in the air and he’ll lose me. Heading back now.”
When the chopper comes back and stops to hover over the ground ahead, I’m about to run to meet it. A firm hand on my shoulder stops me. The strong grip is from a small hand. I look round to see Caterina with a look of determination.
“You’re safe here. Here with Carmine and me, nobody’s coming near you.”
I shake my shoulder. I tell her, “I want to go and meet Vassily,” but she doesn’t let me go.
“Vassily will find you here. You’re safe now and I’m not letting you go anywhere.”
“Let me go.”
“If anything happened to you, Vassily would never forgive me.” Her voice is firm, “and I’m not taking that chance.”
I’m annoyed by Caterina telling me what to do. It’s all the worse that she obviously has the force she would need to back it up. She’s not a woman to carelessly pick a fight with. Remembering what she’s just been through softens my anger. I’m impressed too by the devotion that Vassily seems to inspire, even though I don’t particularly relish seeing it in this tough, elegant, undeniably beautiful woman.
A huge transporter plane lumbers over the horizon. Behind it is another. Then two more, like fat, dull gray houseflies. The drone of their engines grows louder. Luka takes the chopper back to hover over the runway, behind the burning wreckage.
He patches a radio contact to the phone Carmine had on speaker. Caterina and I lean in to hear the Russian over the noise.
“Transport leader to airfield, we need to land. Clear the runway.” In front of the massive transporter planes, the helicopter looks tiny and very vulnerable.
Luka says, “Vassily, I don’t speak Russian. Take the communication.”
Vassily’s voice comes on. “Transport leader, this is Chopper One. Be advised, you cannot land here. Your party is over. We have no wish to shoot you down, but we are armed.”
“Transport leader to Chopper One, we are armed also.”
“Maybe, but the runway is unusable. Even if you shoot us down, you couldn’t land.”
“We don’t have fuel for a return voyage.”
“Transport leader. Suggest you try Canada. Lots of it is flat. Recommend you fuck the hell off out of US airspace pretty fast, though, before USAF notice you.”
Silence. The transporters are circling. Luka comes on the line. “USAF have been alerted. A welcome committee is en route. Recommend you announce yourselves to Kennedy stat. Ask permission to land and accept the escort.”
Vassily translated for the transporters. Silence.
“Chopper One, we could turn your airfield into an inferno.”
“Transport Leader, it would do you no good. Landing in an inferno would go badly. Also, we can turn all four of your aircraft into fireballs. Recommend you reconsider advice re: fucking off.”
The first of the huge transports passes low overhead, then turns and climbs away. The other three follow and the drone of their engines dwindles toward the horizon.
Luka brings the helicopter to land in front of us. He and Vassily climb out as the blades are slowing. They lope across the cement to where I am with Caterina, Carmine, and a few of the others.
Almost without thinking I dodge Caterina and run to Vassily. His eyebrows raise but I know that his warmth is sincere when he hugs me. I paste myself around him and hold on. This man means something to me. I’m afraid of where that would lead, but I can’t deny that I love it. It feels like something I haven’t felt since before all the bad things. Before Little Katya’s world was overturned like a toy box tipped upside down.
He holds me tenderly. When I look up into his face, his smile warms me from my toes to my chest. And everywhere between.
Carmine claps him on the shoulder.
“You kids did well.” He’s looking at me, too. It feels good. Like Vassily and I are a team. I feel that.
Carmine says, “Why don’t you two go and freshen up. I’ve got a little beach house in the Hamptons. Luka can drop you there. It’s only about ten away minutes by chopper.”
~~
Luka flies us to Carmine’s ‘little beach house.’ He takes the chopper down to hover inches above the lawn. “If I put it down here I’d wreck the yard and Carmine would give me a really hard time.” As we clamber out, Luka says, “I can be back to pick you up tomorrow afternoon. Call me.” He leaves us with a smile as he waves and lifts the chopper out over the ocean to leave us in our secluded hideaway.
Carmine’s ‘little beach house’ turns out to be an eight-bedroom house with its own private stretch of beach with a boardwalk and a boathouse.
Inside the house is beautiful. It’s huge, open, and airy. He waits at the door and watches me. I kick off my shoes to pad on the polished pine sunken floor.
He fills the doorway. I curl my toes into the thick rugs. Stroll around the long, deep couches. Everything is pale wood or cream. Glass walls reveal the waves breaking onto the deserted silvery golden dunes outside. There’s no sound except the rush of the tide, or the occasional caw of a seagull.
Just that the slow drip of a tap somewhere in the open kitchen. His eyes burn me up.
Everything I think of to say seems irrelevant. I pace, looking at him. Over my shoulder, facing him. Sideways.
He steps inside. Closes the door behind him. When he moves his finger on a slider by the door, the windows darken. Not completely. But enough.
“They only let the light through one way now.” He moves nearer. The heat of his huge body makes me want to undress. To lick him. To feel the strength of him. I wish he would hold me.
He’s near. I want to lean against his strong chest. Hear his heart beat. I wonder if it’s pounding, hammering like mine is.
“You’ll be safe here. I’ll watch over you.”
“You came after me. When they took me, you came to rescue me.”
Vassily: Perfect Pain - a Bad Boy Mafia Dark Romance Page 18
