There's more gunfire and I pinpoint the shooter. He's firing on the move as he crosses the patio. I aim the Uzi and trigger a rising burst.
Scimitars punch the Bravda off his feet. He crashes onto the flagstones and his supine form leaks blood and goes limp in death. Meantime his subgun clatters across the patio. Its trigger sticks and it spews a long burst of autofire. Bullets pummel the manse and shatter several windows.
I spit a curse. It's too late to guess what tripped the alarm and it no longer matters. The challenge now's survival and taking down as many hostiles as possible. That includes my primary target. It's a tossup whether Zorin will hunker down inside the house or bolt and run.
That leaves me with a choice. I can shoot my way inside the mansion or wait for Zorin to emerge. If I go inside I risk getting trapped and cut off. If I stay outside I have to battle Zorin's troops.
Before I can decide there's another bark of gunfire. Dark shapes converge at the rear of the house and loose erratic shots. They press ahead in a rough skirmish line and shout back and forth.
I count seven guns against me and I'm sure there's another team on call to join the battle. I level the Uzi and seek my next target.
The nearest Bravda's advancing at a range of twenty yards. Another hitman follows close behind. Each man's armed with an AK-47. I track the closer man and trigger the Uzi.
Scimitars rip through his ribcage and he spews blood and vaults back. As he falls his twitching hands trigger a wild burst from his rifle. Those slugs drill his comrade from groin to throat and blow him away. The corpses tumble into a gruesome embrace.
The Uzi's bolt locks back on an empty smoking chamber. I dump the spent magazine and snap in a brand-new mag. The other sentries turn toward my position and trigger more gunfire. Bullets pummel the Juniper's trunk and gouge divots in the turf at my feet.
I recoil and bolt uprange toward a sprawling Red Oak and drop to one knee. The firing stops and that means the gunners have lost my trail. Doubtless they'll keep hunting. I have to evade but first I need to complete another task.
I stow the Uzi and bring up my captured AKSU with its underbarrel GP-25 launcher. The weapon's primed and ready to fire. I aim at the mansion and focus on a second floor balcony with tall French doors.
I hit the launcher's trigger and the high-explosive can hurtles toward impact. It smashes through plate glass and blows inside the room with a muffled crack. The French doors fling outward and shock waves rip them off their hinges.
I jam a fresh HE round into the GP-25's breech and lock it down. I trigger another shot through the shattered opening and there's another explosion. Flames and thick white smoke gush and spread across the balcony. Drapes and carpeting ignite as the blaze takes hold.
I reload the GP-25 with its last grenade and save it in reserve. I probe ahead and spot three man-shapes advancing through the fog and drifting smoke. The leader barks an order and all three men open fire.
I dive and go prone and hit the AKSU's trigger and rake my opposition with a zigzag burst. Steel-core bullets drill the Bravdas from knee to groin and knock all three sprawling. I scramble to my feet with the AKSU braced and primed.
A sound hits my ears and it's the echo of an auto engine. A supercharged V-8. A cold knot forms in my chest. I picture Zorin bailing from the house and climbing inside a powerful getaway car. I picture the vehicle rolling along the driveway toward the open front gates.
Sure enough there's motion ahead and it's a black Escalade. Its fat tires kick gravel as it surges along the driveway. I curse and trigger a short burst from the AKSU. Bullets spark and ricochet off the Escalade's armored rump. Damn!
I lower the AKSU. I can't waste precious ammo trying for a miracle hit.
Meantime the Escalade surges through the gates and gains the road beyond. Rubber screams and the crew wagon powers through the dark and its tail lights wink like evil red eyes. Then it's lost to sight and racing to parts unknown.
I curse and clench my jaw against the bitter taste of defeat. Zorin's slipped my grasp. Damn straight. There's no time to ponder how it went to hell. I have to make my own escape before I'm surrounded and cut off.
Headlights blaze and a Lincoln MKZ sedan surges around the side of the house. Its tires kick gravel as it follows the circular driveway. The headlights glow through the trees and fog in my direction. The Bravda wheelman hasn't found me yet but he's hunting.
I aim the GP-25 and trigger its final bomb. The driver swerves to evade but he's too slow. The HE can clips the MKZ's right front fender and that's enough to trip its impact fuse.
A smoky thunderclap engulfs the luxury sedan. Shrapnel hammers its windshield and metalwork and blows out its front tires. There's a red-orange flash and the bloody driver's engulfed in flame. He screams and thrashes and loses control.
The MKZ veers across the flagstone patio and plunges into the mansion's swimming pool. There's a heavy splash and hissing foam and the smoking MKZ submerges into dark water.
I lurch upright and circle the house and stay inside the treeline. There's more gunfire at my back and bullets hum and buzz around my skull.
I pivot with the AKSU and loose a slashing burst of autofire. That'll slow the hunters. Sure. But they're not about to give up the chase and let me go. They want me dead and no mistake. I can't blame them. Not one bit.
I turn and sprint through the trees and reach the mansion's north-facing courtyard. Six gunmen loiter on the gravel and they're blocking access to another MKZ. There's my chance. I need to capture the sedan and make my great escape.
First I've got to neutralize the Bravda sentries. I'm about to start my charge when a Bravda boards the MKZ and fires its engine. I can't let him get away and I trigger the AKSU and bullets punch through the MKZ's windshield.
The driver's chest erupts in bloody streamers and he goes stiff and slumps sideways. The MKZ's engine keeps running and its headlamps burn bright.
Meantime the other Bravdas swivel in my direction with guns primed. I need to drop the bastards. Yeah. But I can't risk disabling the MKZ with high-explosive blasts or errant gunfire.
I reach for my ALICE belt and claw free an olive-green cylinder. An M-84 stun grenade. Its perforated alloy body contains a pyrotechnic charge of magnesium and ammonium nitrate.
The enemy gunners trigger their assault rifles but they're firing blind. They don't have a clear fix on my location inside the treeline. Their ammo's wasted on phantoms and empty shadows. All right. I need to get closer to my opposition. That way I can hit them with my grenade.
I bolt through the trees toward a low stone retaining wall and drop behind it in a crouch. I pull the grenade's primary arming pin and keep its secondary pin in place but loosened. The flash bomb's primed for action.
I edge along the wall and stay low to maximize concealment. I reach the wall's endpoint and that puts me thirty feet from my opponents. I risk a glance over the wall and verify the distance. If my aim's dead-on I can make this work.
The grenade has a two-second time-delay fuse and that gives the Bravdas no useful time to react. I free the M-84's secondary pin and heft the flasher toward my enemies with a sidearm toss.
The nearest Bravda sees me and levels his rifle but it's too late. The grenade detonates in his startled face and he's flattened by the shockwave.
Meantime the other men stagger against the grenade's flash and blast. I level my AKSU over the wall and trigger several short bursts that empty the weapon's drum. Three Bravdas tumble into piles of ravaged meat while the final man dives and disappears.
I ditch the AKSU and draw my Uzi and spring upright and rush toward the car. I reach the MKZ and the surviving Bravda lunges at me with a blacksteel blade. A Russian Spetznaz dagger.
I pivot and dodge and the knife's tip misses my jugular by an inch. I swing the Uzi toward the Bravda's face and loose a blazing burst at skin-touch range. The man's skull dissolves and I heave the shuddering corpse away.
I spring the MKZ's door. Damn. I need to rem
ove the dead driver. I pry his stiff fingers off the wheel and haul him out and drape him over the other corpse.
I lunge behind the MKZ's wheel. I slide onto the seat and blood soaks through my trousers and there's wetness on my skin.
I ignore the sensation and slam the door and buckle up and throw the automatic shifter into Drive. I'm focused on evasion and escape.
Two more enemies burst around the corner of the house with rifles primed. I drop the driver's window and pull Warhammer and thrust it through the opening. The men spot me and shoulder their weapons.
My combat reflexes give me a split-second advantage. I brace the big autoloader and squeeze its trigger in rapid-fire. Magnum slugs drop both Bravdas into twitching heaps.
I hit the MKZ's accelerator and crank its wheel and set my course for the mansion's rear gate. If I make it through I can reach my waiting Jeep. It's a long shot. Yeah. But I have to try. The grim alternative's certain death.
I hit the accelerator and the MKZ's twin-turbo engine snarls and its tires kick gravel and I power out. Dark figures step in to my line of sight. I can save a bit of time by swerving around them and leaving them behind. But they're veering to intercept with weapons raised.
I opt to mow them down and crank the MKZ's wheel and strike the nearest man. Stunning impact hurls him over the sedan's hood and his skull cracks the windshield. He goes limp and loses his rifle and rolls off the hood out of sight.
The other Bravda tries to dodge but it's too late. A glancing blow knocks him screaming beneath the car. Tires thump over flesh and bone and turn the thug into scarlet gristle.
I gun along the curving drive toward the mansion's rear gate. As I near the gate I brace for another confrontation. I have to win. I have to break through. I can't let my enemies stop me now.
I peer ahead and spot two sentries along the driveway. They're alert and ready for action. I brace Warhammer across my wing mirror and tighten my finger on its trigger.
At fifty feet out I kick the MKZ's LED headlights into hi-beam. That hits the Bravdas with a dazzling glare and they squint and recoil. They raise their weapons but they never get the chance to fire.
Warhammer's muzzle breathes foot-long muzzle flame and a crack of thunder rolls downrange. A .50 slug drills one man's sternum and flings him off his feet. His partner levels a Skorpion machine pistol and tracks for a killing shot. But he's blinded by the MKZ's headlight glare.
I waste no time. I snarl and hit Warhammer's trigger. The .50 bullet clips the man's shoulder and spins him like a demented ballroom dancer. Somehow he stays on his feet and lifts the Skorpion and swings it at my windshield.
For an instant we lock eyes and I swerve to avoid his line of fire. At the same time I draw Warhammer's trigger. There's another muzzle flash and another blast of thunder. The .50 slug hits hard and the Bravda pitches into a final death-spin.
I wrench the MKZ's wheel to correct my course and hurtle toward the closed gate. Another Bravda's etched in my headlights and he grips a sawn-off shotgun. I won't stop. There's no way.
I punch the MKZ's accelerator and its superchargers howl and I hurtle toward the gate. The Bravda snarls and fires his scattergun from the hip.
Buckshot sweeps the MKZ and most of the pellets ricochet off the hood or drum the front bumper. Two pellets drill the windshield and wallop the front passenger seat's headrest. A torrent of plastic splinters pelts my face and I grimace and curse.
The shotgunner re-aims his weapon. I stomp my accelerator and the next two seconds go by in grim slow motion. The MKZ's bumper connects with the shotgunner and he's crushed against the gate. His eyes bulge and he screams and his legs and torso dissolve into crimson pulp.
Meantime there's a violent jolt and the gate buckles and its hinges rip loose and it flings apart. There's a harsh metallic scraping and the MKZ plunges through the opening.
I kick my accelerator and the sedan's tires spin and lose traction on the gravel. I curse and hit the pedal harder and the MKZ fishtails and straightens.
I'm through the opening and the MKZ's tires hit the blacktop and there's a scream of rubber. I crank my wheel hard left and take the sedan northeast. That's toward my waiting Jeep.
I'm clear but instinct tells me I'm not beyond danger. The Bravdas won't give up the chase. They want revenge.
Before I've covered half a mile I spot glaring headlights in my rearview mirror. It's a chase car and it plunges through the ruined gateway and turns in my direction. Pursuing. Two more sets of headlights emerge from the estate and turn and join the chase.
I slit my eyes and scan the road ahead. The MKZ's passenger-side headlight blew out when I hit the gate. The other's damaged and shining on half power.
I consider shutting off my lights and running dark to make pursuit harder. But no. I need illumination and I need to see what's ahead.
Behind me the Bravda chase cars pull closer and loom large in my mirror. They fill both lanes as they run in tandem and the third car trails behind. Passengers drop their windows and level pistols and stubby subguns and open fire.
Dirty orange flame winks in my rearview and I grimace as bullets smack the MKZ's trunk and rear fender. Two slugs drill the rear windshield and hurtle past my temple and punch through the front window. Pebbled safety glass blows back and bounces off my goggles and helmet.
More bullets wallop the MKZ and there's a chance the slugs might ignite the fuel tank. I curse. If the car lights up I'm SOL.
I picture the MKZ hurtling off the road in a blazing death-spin. I picture myself trapped inside the flaming wreck and burned to smoking gristle. I won't like that. Not one bit.
I grasp the wheel in a white-knuckle grip and pull the MKZ through a tight sloping S-curve. Behind me there's more gunfire. A heavy slug ricochets and blows a fist-size hole in the passenger's seat. Another bullet plows through and grazes my arm and burrows into the dash.
I mouth a curse and grimace and tense my shoulders. Soon the hunters will find their range and hit their mark. It's a matter of time before a Magnum slug drills my skull or severs my spine.
My grimace deepens and my gut pulls tight. I have to act fast and I can't falter. I pull Warhammer and drop its half-spent magazine and snap a full mag into place. It's hard with one hand gripping the MKZ's wheel but I get the job done.
I brace the pistol's six-inch barrel across the windowsill and scan my mirror and ID the chase cars. They're carbon-copy black Escalades. Of course. The Bravdas love their black Escalades.
I count down from five to one in my mind. Now! I hit my brake and let the nearest Escalade surge ahead and overtake me on the left. As the SUV pulls level with my window I trigger Warhammer in rapid-fire.
Magnum slugs pummel the Escalade's cockpit and blood sprays and men scream. The driver lurches sideways and slumps across his wheel.
The unguided SUV swerves and flips and barrel-rolls in smoke and glittering sparks. Its doors fling open and ravaged figures tumble into freefall and land in crumpled heaps on the road. The stricken SUV settles upside down in a roadside ditch and its engine groans and dies.
I kick my accelerator and gun through another S-curve and that puts me ahead of the two remaining SUVs. I lose sight of them as I follow the twisting road. I peer ahead and spot a hulking structure. It's the old insane asylum I passed earlier.
I can use the building to find shelter and make a stand. At least in theory.
I veer off the main road and smash through the asylum's chain-link gate. Its KEEP OUT sign breaks loose and clatters over the MKZ's hood. I race along the asylum's curving driveway and check my mirror.
Headlights turn into the driveway and it's the Bravdas in close pursuit. I reach the asylum's front courtyard and study the building. It's a gray concrete monstrosity and it looks like a penitentiary minus the razor wire. Its doors shut in the 1970s after some kind of scandal.
I skid to a halt outside the asylum's main entrance and quit the MKZ and bolt for cover. I reach a concrete pillar and crouch in its shadow a
nd reload Warhammer. Meantime the Bravda tanks arrive and their LEDs cast eerie light across the asylum.
The SUVs brake and slow and I'm sure they're communicating by radio or cellphone. They're making plans to search the asylum. They can see the empty sedan so they know I'm close at hand. After a pause the lead SUV advances. Searching.
The second SUV stays in position and blocks the driveway. I crouch lower behind my cover. The Bravdas haven't spotted me. Not yet.
I level Warhammer and let the SUV roll past my position. I stay concealed and wait until I have a clear shot at its rump end. Three. Two. One. Now!
I hit Warhammer's trigger and loose a Magnum salvo. I'm probing for the Escalade's fuel tank. And connecting. My last bullet sparks flame and oily fire rolls along the Escalade's length. It engulfs the vehicle and its occupants.
The driver lunges from behind his melting wheel and staggers into the open. He's wrapped in flames and lurching and screaming. He drops to his knees and walks on them and trails gray smoke.
Hard Target Page 4
