“Chaff fired!” Kathy flipped the switch. Two missiles came at them. She saw them streaking toward them on the HUD. Her eyes widened as the chaff arced away from the Blackhawk. Would both missiles follow it? Oh, God, if they didn’t…She touched her parched throat in a nervous motion.
Two explosions rent the air. The Blackhawk groaned, flailed and shuddered as the blast waves, one right after the other, hit them. Cursing softly, Mac worked the controls. The harness kept him from being slammed around. He heard Kathy give a cry, her hand going up against her drawn visor to protect her eyes. Seeing the red welts of fire and the black smoke venting upward past the chopper, he realized just how close they’d come to dying.
Another beep began.
“Next to the last chaff,” Kathy announced. Sweat trickled down the sides of her face, and her breath came shallow and fast. The mountains loomed ahead. Gaze glued to the HUD, she saw the missile approaching.
“Chaff fired!” she cried, trying to prepare for the blast.
It came so close this time that the fiery red clouds and yellow tongues of flame belched upward toward Kathy’s side of the cockpit.
Another beep began.
“We’re almost outta chaff,” she told Mac tensely, and glanced over at him.
“I know. We need to save the last of it for when we really need it. Hold on.” He hauled the scrambling Blackhawk into a nearly vertical climb. The metal craft groaned, and the blades thumped hard. As vibrations shook the helicopter, the engines screamed in protest. Blades whirled, trying to find enough air to gain altitude.
What was he doing? There was no place to go! Kathy hung on, slammed back into her seat, pinned by the sudden pull of gravity. Her gaze was on the missile now stalking them. They were almost out of chaff! Oh, God, were they going to die? Giving Mac one last glance, Kathy realized that she might never get to know him, never get to kiss him again, never get to love him as she wanted to. Her hands curled into the seat and she held on.
Wrenching the Blackhawk out of the climb, the engines shrieking in protest, Mac banked the bird hard right. For an instant, the craft hung suspended in the air. Then the blades beat hard and it flipped onto its side, plummeting toward the green carpet of jungle below. It was a ruse to fool the incoming projectile. Mac knew missiles couldn’t make fast turns, and he was jinxing the bird so that the device lost track of them. Hurry! Hurry! The bird fell like a rock. The land raced up at them. His breath jammed in his throat, his eyes on the jungle below, he started to pray.
Suddenly, there was an explosion.
Kathy gave a cry.
Mac blinked. What had happened? Did the missile blow up before it had reached them? No, impossible. After leveling out the Blackhawk at five thousand feet, he jerked a look toward Kathy.
“What happened?”
“The Apache took out the missile meant for us!” Kathy crowed, lifting her fist in victory. She smiled triumphantly. “Damn, those sisters are good!”
Relief sheeted through Mac. He again redlined the Blackhawk. “Let’s make a run for it,” he muttered darkly, aiming for the mountains, now ten miles away.
“King’s Ace, this is Cobra Two. Over.”
“King’s Ace, Cobra Two. Thanks for saving our ass. Over.”
“Roger that,” Snake chuckled. “Listen, we see that these good ole boys are outta rockets and missiles. They musta expended them elsewhere?”
“Roger,” Mac declared. “They fired on the drug dealer Carlos Garcia’s villa and blew it to hell earlier. That would be my guess why they’re low on ammo. Over.”
“Okay,” Snake said. “Then we’ll see what we girls can do to get them with our rockets and missiles. In the meantime, head for the fortress as fast as you can. Over.”
“Roger,” Kathy said, giving Mac a tense smile. He grinned back, but she could see the worry in his eyes. “Out.”
She gulped and tried to slow her erratic breathing as she watched the HUD screen. She saw the Apache, which was ten thousand feet higher than the Sharks, loose three missiles at the pursuing enemies on their tail. Clenching her hands, she whispered, “Get those sons of bitches!”
Within moments, she saw chaff spewing from the Sharks that had been targeted. One got hit.
“Bingo!” Kathy yelled triumphantly. “Cobra Two bagged one!”
“Three more to go,” Mac reminded her sternly. “Don’t ever underestimate those guys. They’re damn good hunters.”
Even as he said it, Kathy gulped. The three remaining Sharks spread out in a fan, at least three miles apart. “Hey, Mac…”
“I see. They’re coming after us.” And they were only two miles behind.
“They have no rockets. No missiles.”
“But we do. We’re going to turn around and make a stand. Get ready to fire those AGM-114s.”
Revenge soared through Kathy as she quickly punched in the instructions. “Hellfire missiles hot.”
“Roger that. Hang on, I’m coming around.” He brought the shrieking Blackhawk into as tight a turn as it could make. The first Shark was less than two miles away, its double axial blades whirling like a meat chopper ready to slice and dice them.
Mac didn’t have to tell Kathy to fire. She knew what she was doing. As soon as he got the nose of the Blackhawk turned so they were staring at the Shark screaming toward them, she went into action. The Blackhawk shuddered as the Hellfire missiles, two of them, flew from beneath the bird. Mac watched with satisfaction as both zoomed toward the Shark. The enemy pilot instantly threw out chaff and tried to evade the incoming missiles.
One went for the chaff. The other went for the Shark.
Kathy whooped and threw her hands upward in triumph. The Hellfire found its intended target, and the sky suddenly became a red-orange fireball in front of them. The Blackhawk rode out the blast wave.
“Let’s get outta here,” Mac said, turning the helo toward the mountains.
“Look out!” Kathy yelled. “Enemy at six o’clock!” That meant another Shark was on their tail. Somehow, it had made its move while their attention was on the other target. “Firing! He’s firing his machine guns!”
The first 30 mm rounds tore into the Blackhawk. Metal ripped, and the helo staggered.
Mac wrenched the bird downward, toward the jungle. The Black Shark’s guns continued to spew hot lead into them. His breath jammed in his throat, he concentrated on not getting knocked out of the sky by the cannons, which had the capability of doing just that. The air turbulence was rough, and the harness cut into his shoulders. Would Sophie be all right? Lucky for her, she had a protective armored wall behind her seat.
“Get our guns on-line!” he yelled to Kathy. “Hang on!”
“I’m on it! Give me a target, dammit!!”
They were flying at two thousand feet. The canopy below was a flowing green carpet. There was nowhere to hide!
The bird was being jerked around so hard that Kathy had problems flipping the switches. “Armed and hot!” she cried. The Blackhawk groaned as Mac brought it around in a turn so tight that she held her breath. Her eyes widened. The Shark loomed in their cockpit window. Oh, God! Without thinking, Kathy fired continuously and watched the red tracers arc toward the oncoming aircraft.
They were so close to a head-on collision that she could clearly see the pilot sitting at the controls, the helmet on his head, the olive-green color of his flight suit. This was a game of sky chicken! Who was going to blink first?
The tracers slammed into the Shark, and smoke immediately began to curl from the engines.
Mac wrenched the Blackhawk to the left. The blades of the helicopters came within inches of colliding as he banked the craft one way, while the Shark went the other.
Kathy gulped and held on for dear life. Mac straightened out the chopper just above the treetops. The tricycle gear beneath the fuselage was slapping against some of the higher limbs. Christ! Kathy jerked her head to look around. The smoking Shark was turning toward them.
“He’s pursuing!
” she warned.
“Okay, hang on….”
Kathy prepared herself, her hand hovering over the gun switch. They had nowhere to go. The Blackhawk labored mightily to gain forward speed as well as climb. If they stayed on the deck, they were dead! After giving Mac a quick glance, she watched her HUD once more. Her whole body was soaked in sweat. They were fighting for their lives. Anxiously, she studied the HUD, and saw two dots. One was an Apache and the other a Shark.
Just as Mac was getting ready to turn the Blackhawk for another salvo, there was a huge explosion.
“What the hell!” he yelled, grappling with the controls as the blast wave hit them. The bird skidded sideways, losing two hundred feet of altitude. The landing gear began clipping the tops of the trees and branches flew up. Green leaves exploded around them as if they’d been chopped up in a huge blender. Wrenching back on the controls, Mac urged the bird skyward.
“What happened?” he demanded, his voice tight with strain.
Kathy shook her head, looking at the HUD. “I don’t know…I don’t know. The Shark’s gone. Blown away…”
“King’s Ace, this is Cobra One. Over.”
Kathy gulped. The voice was a woman’s. She sounded cool, under control, and that served to soothe Kathy’s frayed nerves. “Cobra One, this is King’s Ace. Over.”
“We just took out your friend for you. This is Major Stevenson. I’m ordering you to our fortress. We have four Apaches in the air now. We’ll mop up here so you can land without further problems at our base. Over.”
Shutting her eyes for a moment, Kathy reopened them and turned to Mac. He was pale, his face glistening with sweat, his mouth a thin line. “Roger that, Cobra One. Thanks for saving our bacon. We owe you. Over and out.”
Mac took in a deep, shaky breath as he eased the Blackhawk upward. It was only then that he saw several bullet holes on his side of the fuselage, near his legs. They’d come so close to dying. So close. Above them, he saw the Apache called Cobra One flash overhead, flying into the fray to finish off the last Black Shark. Mac saw two other friendlies nearby, as well. The Apaches owned the sky.
“We’re safe….” he stated wearily. To hell with it. He put the Blackhawk on autopilot and reached out and gripped Kathy’s right hand, which was still curled in a fist on her thigh. “We made it. Thanks to you…” He stared into those wide blue eyes that were so incredibly beautiful to him.
Her lips parting, Kathy felt the tension begin to bleed out of her. She gripped Mac’s hand and then looked over her shoulder to make sure Sophie was okay. The little girl was pale but smiling. Kathy smiled back at her and gave her a thumbs-up.
And as she glanced behind, she noticed a huge column of black smoke rising high in the air over the jungle. It was Carlos Garcia’s estate. Tiki? What about her? Kathy wanted to cry. And as she sat there, twisted in the cockpit seat, watching the rolling black smoke spread outward, she thought of Garcia. Tiki loved her father…. Kathy’s thirst for revenge began to dissolve.
No, he was an evil man even if he did love his daughter. One good turn out of a hundred bad ones didn’t make him a good guy. Kathy would cry later for the loss of Tiki, but not her father.
Then, she turned her attention back to Mac. “I think we have a lot of talking to do once we get to this secret base, don’t you?”
Nodding, Mac squeezed her fingers gently and then released them. “Yeah, I do, bright angel. I really do….”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“MOMMY, MOMMY, I’m coming home! I’m coming home!” Sophie sobbed as she gripped the red security phone to her ear.
Kathy smiled gently and held Sophie on her lap. They were in the office of Lieutenant Dallas Klein, executive officer of the Black Jaguar Squadron. Anyone and everyone who had seen Kathy carry little blond Sophie out of the Blackhawk after they’d landed had cheered at their return to freedom.
As Kathy soothed her, she glanced at her surroundings. She was amazed by how many women were here. All the crews, with few exceptions, were female.
And now Kathy sat in the chair behind Dallas’s desk, and the small office was crowded with happy faces of the crew, as well as some of the returning pilots. Mac stood off to one side, his arms across his chest, grinning.
While the little girl spoke with her parents, Dallas Klein smiled with tears in her eyes. It had been her idea to contact Sophie’s parents directly over a secure satellite phone connection. As Sophie talked animatedly with her mother and father, Kathy continued to gently run her hand across the child’s back in soothing motions. She could still feel Sophie trembling from their experience in the Blackhawk. But getting to hear her parents’ voices was working wonders on the child.
When Sophie was done talking, she held out the phone toward Mac, the agent in charge of the mission. He playfully ruffled her hair and took it.
Kathy got up, and Sophie wrapped her thin legs about her right hip. Mac sat down to fill in the parents on what had happened and to assure them that Sophie was indeed safe and well.
As Mac gave his update, Dallas Klein came over to Kathy. “We need to get you and Sophie to the dispensary at the back of the cave. A doctor will check you out. Mac will go over later.”
Nodding, Kathy saw the crowd part so they could leave the office. A number of the women murmured their heartfelt congratulations, and Kathy thanked them all. Then she followed Dallas down the hall, down the stairs and out of the building. They were once again on the floor of the magnificent lava cave, which hummed with constant activity. The noise became unbearable when an Apache came in for a landing. Sophie clapped her hands over her ears as Kathy carried her on her hip toward the rear of the cave.
They passed Mess, where they served food, a dispensary and a revetment area where two civilian helos were parked. Kathy looked toward the opening and saw a second Apache heading in. The puncturing reverberations hurt her ears, too. Finally, both birds were down and the engines shut off. The noise lessened quickly, much to her and Sophie’s relief.
In her heart, Kathy wanted quality time with Mac, but right now she knew that was impossible. The military’s need for doing things by S.O.P., standard operating procedure, would delay any reunion. The three of them would be put through their paces now that they were at the black ops base. Kathy glanced down at Sophie, who had uncovered her ears. The child grinned fully and her features relaxed, probably for the first time since her capture. Inwardly, Kathy cried over Tiki. Could she have survived that terrible attack? Remembering that towering column of black smoke, she thought it impossible. But she suppressed her tears over Garcia’s daughter because Sophie needed her now.
“You’re going home, sweetheart,” she told her.
Nodding, Sophie placed her arm around Kathy’s neck and began to look around. “Mommy was crying. So was Daddy.”
“You were, too, but that’s okay, Sophie. They’re happy you’re coming home to them.”
“When can I go home, Kathy?”
“Soon,” she said. “But first we have to get checked over by Dr. Elizabeth Cornell to make sure we’re okay.”
Sophie rubbed her damp eyes. “I miss my mommy and daddy. All I want to do is go home.”
“I know, Sophie, I know. And I’m sure Mac will work hard to see that you go home just as soon as you can.” Kathy stepped into the air-conditioned dispensary and met Sergeant Angel Paredes, and a Special Forces sergeant, Burke Gifford, who would examine them. They would do the initial exam and then Dr. Cornell would come in later.
As the paramedics looked them over, Kathy’s thoughts turned to her own family. God, how she missed them! And she was going home to them, when she had thought all along she’d never see them again. That realization brought tears to her eyes as she set Sophie gently on a gurney.
Wait until her parents found out what she’d tried to do. Her father would raise holy hell over her self-planned mission. And her mother? Kathy didn’t even want to think about how she would react….
“MORGAN?” Mike Houston calle
d from the door to Morgan’s office. It was 1900 and past quitting time.
“Yeah, Mike?” He lifted his head.
“I just got some news from an old friend of mine in Lima.”
Heart racing, Morgan set down the report he was reading. Mike had spent seven years in Peru, chasing down drug dealers, and still had an extensive network of contacts there. When sources confirmed that Kathy had been the one on that trail to Garcia’s villa, Morgan’s life had exploded with terror. And he’d quickly put together why she was there. How he’d wanted to deny it! Deny all of it. Because that meant Kathy was going after the son of the drug lord who had made their lives so horrifying.
He watched Mike close the door and walk across the carpet to his desk. “Well? What did you find out? Did one of your sources come through for us?”
“Yeah,” Mike said, “one did. My source is out of Cuzco and her general region is Agua Caliente. She just heard over the radio that Carlos Garcia’s country villa near there was attacked by combat helicopters—four of them. Apparently Manuel Navarro, from Colombia, set up the hit on him.”
Scowling, Morgan muttered, “Just deserts. It does my heart good when one drug kingpin takes out another one. Any more info on the strike?”
“Apparently several tourists were hiking near the villa when it was hit. They took digital pictures of the whole thing.”
“There’s one way to find out who was there, then.” He hit the button on his intercom. “Jenny? Will you get Major Maya Stevenson on the scramble phone for me?”
“Of course, Morgan.”
Frowning, he scratched his jaw. “You had said there was discontent among the other drug lords because Garcia’s shipments were being stopped at the border by the Black Jaguar Squadron.”
Mike perched one hip on a corner of Morgan’s messy desk. “That’s right. And we know that drug lords in Ecuador and Colombia own some Russian Black Sharks.”
Enemy Mine Page 25
