Running Black (Eshu International Book 1)
Page 31
One team made the mistake of taking cover behind what was left of the jeep. The Vychlop slammed into my shoulder twice before the other two scurried back to the Mercedes.
The Nightingale stopped, allowing the Russians to regroup and focus on the Triplets, but they were wary and off-balance, and our Killer Bunnies picked them off steadily. A no-neck with the grenade launcher was thumping out 40mm rounds, but Tam's Tavor 24 coughed sharply and he stopped.
Things were definitely looking up. Now if that boat would just show up ...
Eyes still on the road, I spotted the bounce of approaching headlights the same moment Poet9 sang out. "Fourth vehicle coming fast."
A large black van swung around the Mercedes truck and blew past the burning jeep.
"Kill it." Tam ordered.
A Bumblebee rocket screeched out of the woods and caught the van in the rear. It exploded Hollywood-style, flipping end over end and tumbled to a halt, blazing in smaller pieces.
Each of the Bunnies carried a single-use RPO-M thermobaric launcher. Made to crack hardened concrete bunkers, using them to radically disassemble vehicles was definite overkill. Whatever works though...
"Raven Three has water contact coming our way." Poet9 spoke up."Our ride's here."
"Better late than never." Tam murmured. "Disengage and fall back to third pier. Curro, Poet, get the women into the boat."
I stayed on my garbage heap and kept my eyes glued on the road, but no one was moving up there. That last display must have gutted Oryol's slavic zeal.
As the thrum of outboard motors grew behind me, Poet9 emerged from hiding and ran across the road. He was still jacked in to the Ravens' controller and waving his oversized pistol. Curro followed more slowly, sheltering the mother with his body. He'd given her his jacket, and she was carrying her young daughter in her arms. They went past me and headed to the end of the pier.
Almost there.
Tam and the Triplets loosed a final round of grenades and tri-bursts. Still no response. Not like Ivans to widdle their knickers, but far be it from me to interrupt when my opponent is making a mistake. Tam and the Triplets broke from the tree line at a dead run straight towards me.
Still no motion up the road.
The Triplets settled into position around me and Tam tapped my shoulder as he ran past. I got up and followed him down the pier.
The Microsoft boat was a Code X clone: chiseled long and low, with a cabin bulge at the rear. It was covered in mimetic smart-camo, so its surface flashed with the heave of moonlit waves. Curro and Poet9 had already helped the two women down the ladder. The wiry Mexican was still jacked in, but he flashed a smile up at me. "Home free, homie". I gave him a thumbs up - I was spending my percentage already.
"We're leaving." Tam called over the radio, and the Triplets rose out of the shadows and ran towards us. They were halfway down the pier when the Werewolf returned and all my sugar turned to shit.
"Drop it." Tam ordered. Flospy skidded to a halt, tugged the launcher tube off his back. A thread of fire lanced up into the sky straight toward the helicopter.
And missed.
That Russian pilot executed one of the most incredible feats of flying I'd ever seen. The twin rotor assault chopper literally spun in a three-sixty and sidestepped the rocket. It came around facing us head on again fifty feet from its original position. I'd never been so impressed and horrified at the same time.
The searchlight snapped on again, this time accompanied by a quick belch of its 30mm gun. The water geysered directly in front of us.
Остановка! Halt.
God. Damn. It.
Tam, the Triplets, and I froze like mystics with a peek at apotheosis. And between the roar of the storm, the helicopter's engine, the bright light, and the threat of instant death, it was like God speaking doom out of a tornado.
All of a sudden, another sound barged in on that weirdly sacred moment, so normal as to seem profane: the loud buzz of fans. It seemed to swoop in from all around us, and I heard three tiny pops before it vanished. A split second later there was a soft grinding noise.
It grew louder, and louder.
The searchlight dipped. Righted itself, then dipped again.
The grinding morphed into a rasp, and the Werewolf's nose dropped. The engine began to shriek.
The five of us stared, still rooted in place, as the pilot began to struggle for control. The helicopter dropped down, began to wobble back and forth like a drunk. The shriek became a grating howl, and suddenly the helicopter reeled up and away, lunging toward land.
"Go, go, go!" Tam shouted, and the five of us jumped into the boat. Twin Ilmor Formula One engines snarled to life and we shot into the frigid darkness on the Baltic Sea.
As the shoreline fell away, I started breathing again for a second time that night.
"What just happened?" Tam said out loud. "What was that?"
I stared at Curro. "Your mom praying again?" He only laughed.
"All you need is trust and a little bit of pixie dust." Poet9 warbled. "Knew it would work."
The Triplets turned in unison. "Peter Pan!" they boomed out, big grins on their faces.
Tam blinked twice. "Whiskey Tango Foxtrot is 'pixie dust'?"
"Mostly sand, with metal shavings and chaff to spice it up. Slight drag on the Ravens' aerodynamics, but when that chopper came back, I stuka-ed it and blew all three at the rotor assembly."
My jaw dropped."Sorry?"
"I was worried RSC Energia might have their own drones over the facility, and seeing as missiles are too obvious, I rigged each of the Ravens with a Tinkerbell payload." Poet9 explained. "Each Raven had two kilos of pixie dust in a fiberglass canister. Stuff will wreck any drone engine."
"You know it would work on the chopper?" I asked.
"Nope." He shrugged. "But I figured it was worth a shot."
"Holy shit." Tam said slowly.
I looked over at Curro again. "Your mom is definitely praying."
"For God's sake, don't tell her about tonight, ok?" Tam pleaded. Curro laughed again, and handed a mug of tea to the mother.
I looked over at the two women. Both of them wrapped in blankets, the daughter was fast asleep and her mother was brushing hair out of her round, little face. She saw me looking and smiled back at me. Everything was right in their world now. They were warm and safe, going to be reunited with a loved one in a better country, for a better company. This one turned out alright.
Sometimes I love my job.
Seven hundred fifteen horsepower throbbed steadily under our feet, launching us further into the deep black of the Baltic night. Finding a Code X stealth boat anytime was a task; throw in a storm like this and the Russians would never trace us. Ever. This run was over.
Poet9 spoke up. He had jacked in to the boat's main console. "I told Rao we were clear, and he's relayed that to the Microsofties. Balance will be in the bank tomorrow." He unplugged the cable from the Interface Unit on the side of his head. "And he says not to get too comfortable. D-H is sending Hester around tomorrow to brief us on our next job."
I looked out at the storm swirling past the windows. "I hope it's somewhere warm."