by Stuart Woods
“I always keep a stew on hand, just in case,” she said. “And just in case seems to happen all the time around here.”
A buzzer went off, and one of the screens started flashing. Ed stopped the noise and peered at the screen.
“I don’t see anything,” Stone said.
“Likely a deer,” Rawls replied. And as he spoke, a large doe emerged from some bushes near the front gate and nosed around for something to eat.
“Do you have an aviation radio?” Stone asked.
Rawls rummaged around in a box and came up with a small radio and a charger, then plugged it in.
“Set it for 122.9,” Stone said. “Lance’s chopper is in the neighborhood.” He picked up the radio. “Chopper, chopper, this is Barrington.”
“This is Chopper One. I just cleared the hospital pad. What do you need?”
“Low aerial surveillance of the area of a house on the west shore, facing west, with a dock. There’s a burning boat moored there. We’re looking for a bunch of armed men in black.”
“I’ll get back,” the pilot said.
Stone readdressed his beef stew.
* * *
—
A few minutes later, the radio came to life. “Barrington, Chopper One.”
“I hear you.”
“I’m off your dock. What the hell happened to that boat?”
“RPG.”
“Oh, well.”
“What do you see?”
“I just flushed a deer; she’s moving south along the road. Uh-oh, SUV coming the other way, fast.”
“Tell me more about the SUV.”
“Oh, shit! It hit the deer! What . . . a . . . mess!”
“Do they need an ambulance?”
“I don’t know. They’re moving around. I see four men crawling out of the wreckage. One of them just shot the deer in the head.”
“How are the men dressed?”
“Black combat gear. They look fully armored. Also assault weapons.”
“Keep them in sight and report.”
“Okay, they’re walking up the road—scrub that, limping up the road. I’d say they’re pissed off.”
Stone turned to Rawls. “You hear that?”
“Every word,” Rawls said. “Time to start shooting guns at them.”
57
Stone checked out his H&K machine gun and tucked the aviation radio into his jacket’s breast pocket with the antenna protruding.
“What do you want me to do?” Dino asked.
“Ed and I are going out to greet the four men limping up the road, so you’ll be vulnerable from the north and east. Ed, do you have another aviation radio?”
Rawls rummaged around and came up with an older, larger one than before. He plugged it into the charger and dialed in the local frequency. “You can talk both to us and the chopper on this,” he said to Dino. “Sally’s had a lot of deer stalking experience in Scotland, courtesy of her father and late husband. She’s got a Remington 30.06 with a scope; she’s your artillery.” He showed Dino how to manipulate the images from the outside cameras. “Give us a call if somebody’s sneaking up on us, though the chopper will probably spot them first.”
“Gotcha,” Dino said. “Head off, and I’ll watch you on TV.”
Ed turned toward Stone. “I’m going to run across the drive to the gatepost. You cover me, then I’ll cover you when you cross.”
“Let’s go,” Stone said.
Ed cracked the side door, looked around, then broke for the gatepost on the other side of the driveway. He got there without being shot at, looked around and waved Stone across, then set up to cover him.
Stone ran across as fast as he could and settled behind the stacked stone pillar.
“The log across the drive will slow them down,” Ed said. “When they’re climbing over it would be a good time to kill them.”
Stone nodded. He had no qualms about shooting to kill, after what these people had done to Rocky. He saw the top of somebody’s head behind a bush, just the other side of the log. “Ready on the right,” he said.
“Give me the first shot,” Ed said. “Your weapon is better for close work.”
“Right.”
Ed unfolded a bipod from his assault rifle, set it on the stone pillar, and took careful aim. “One more step,” he said.
Stone tensed as he saw a head pop up from behind the log, then as it exploded in a cloud of gore. “Good shot,” he said, gulping.
“You’re not going to toss your cookies, are you?” Ed asked.
“I might. What’s it to you?”
“Let’s advance, while they’re figuring out what happened to their guy. You take the left, stop at the log.”
The two of them split up and ran up the drive, hitting the dirt at the log.
“Don’t stick your head up,” Rawls said. “Remember what happened to the last guy who did that.”
“Don’t worry.”
Ed produced a cardboard periscope from a pocket and unfolded it.
“Hang on a second,” Stone said, bringing out the radio. “Chopper One.”
“I hear ya. Nice head shot a minute ago.”
“Can you see the other three?”
“Two across the main road, behind a large boulder. Don’t move, until I find the other guy.” There was a pause, then: “Got him. He’s on your side of the road, behind another boulder, peeking out. You got a lot of boulders on this island.”
“Yes, we do. Can I pop up for a second, without losing my head?”
“Maybe. It’ll be the first boulder you see on your side of the road.”
Stone popped up for about a second and took a mental photograph of what he saw. “All I saw was the boulder.”
“He’s still behind it, with a heavy rifle, something like a BAR.”
“Swell.” Stone put his weapon on full auto. “Ed, fire a couple of rounds at the guys across the road, to keep their heads down.”
“Here you are,” Ed said, squeezing off three or four rapid rounds.
Stone got the H&K into position, then stood up and waited. No sign of the man behind the rock.
“He’s still there,” the pilot radioed. “Getting ready to stand up.”
Stone aimed six inches above the rock, and when the man stood, he squeezed off a burst, then disappeared behind his own rock.
“Target down, but moving,” the pilot said. “His cap is off, and I see blood. I think you creased him.”
“Go finish him off, Stone. I’ll keep the others’ heads down,” Rawls said.
Stone unsnapped the keep on his shoulder holster, stood up, and ran toward the rock, maybe thirty yards away. He heard Ed fire a burst behind him, then he moved left, looking for his man. He ran right up to the boulder and looked over it. A man was sitting cross-legged on the ground, pressing his cap to a head wound.
“Sit still, or I’ll blow the rest of your head off,” Stone said. “Where’s Gromyko?”
“Fuck you,” the man said.
Stone pulled the 9mm from its holster, racked the slide, and shot him in the head. “Two down,” he said into the radio, then he occupied the dead man’s position behind the rock, which was sheltering him from the two across the road.
Suddenly, the two men stood up, one looking at him, the other at Rawls, and they began to sprint toward the log. Stone fired a low, sweeping burst and cut one of them down. The other was stopped by a bullet to the chest. “One down,” he shouted. “Careful, the other guy is wearing a vest!” The man was partly sheltered behind his partner, and Stone didn’t have a good shot. “He’s yours, Ed!”
58
Stone kept the machine gun pointing at the downed man, as Ed ran across the road and kicked an assault rifle away from him, then took his sidearm out of a waist holster and threw it down the road a ways.
Stone ran up and did the same to the man he had shot, who seemed to have a single wound below his right knee. “I’ve got a live one. How about you?”
“He’s a little alive,” Ed replied, poking at him with his rifle barrel.
Stone walked over and tossed his man’s weapon away. The man looked up at him with what seemed to be a combination of fear and hatred. “I’ve got time to put a tourniquet on that leg before you bleed to death,” Stone said to the man. “If you talk fast. Where’s Gromyko?”
“I don’t know,” the man said.
“I just killed your buddy over there for an incomplete answer to that question. Last chance: Where’s the Greek?”
“Up that road behind you,” the man said. “I don’t know how far. He’s in an armored Humvee.”
“How did you get that thing onto the island?”
“We hired an old landing craft in Camden and put three vehicles ashore last night.”
“What’s the third vehicle?”
“An armored Range Rover. We had another, but we hit a deer. It’s trashed.” Stone held the machine gun pointed at his head, then bent over, pulled the cloth belt from the man’s field jacket, and tossed it to him. “Get that on your leg.” The man sat up and did as he was told.
“Did you get all that, Ed?” Stone asked.
“Yes, and a good thing, too; mine just died.” He fired a shot into the man’s head. “Just making sure.”
Stone heard a vehicle approaching from the north and looked up in time to see a Range Rover approaching. He dragged the wounded man across the road and hid them both behind the boulder.
“I’m going back to the house!” Rawls cried. “Be right back, hold the fort!”
The radio in Stone’s pocked cracked.
“This is Chopper One.”
“I hear you.”
“Two vehicles approaching from the north, an SUV and what looks like a larger vehicle.”
“Do you have any arms aboard your chopper?” Stone asked.
“I’ve got a .45 on my belt. That’s it.”
“I could use a cannon,” Stone said.
“I’m fresh out of cannons,” the pilot replied. “All I’ve got are eyes. Both vehicles have stopped, and four men are getting out of the Range Rover with rifles. They can’t see you behind the boulder. I think.”
“Dino,” Stone said. “If you can hear me, come up the drive with the heaviest weapons you’ve got. Watch out for Rawls. He’s on the way to you. Don’t startle him, or he’ll shoot you.” He released the talk button but heard no response. “Dino, do you read?” Nothing. “Dino?” Still nothing.
“Looks like you’re in the shit,” the wounded man on the ground said.
Stone wished he had kept the man’s rifle. “If you make a sound to warn them we’re here, you’ll get my first bullet in your head,” he said to the man. He could hear the tramp of boots on the road now, but he wasn’t about to stick his head up.
“There’s Pete over there,” one of them said. “I don’t see Art, do you?”
“Nope, but . . .” he said something Stone couldn’t make out. Stone’s best guess was that he had seen the blood trail left by the wounded man at his side.
Suddenly his charge started yelling. “It’s Art, Charlie, behind the . . .”
Stone shot him in the head with his handgun, then popped up for a second to see the two closest men, who were looking around for the source of the noise. Stone got to one knee, sighted quickly, and emptied the weapon in their direction. He ducked down again, popped out the empty magazine, and shoved another into the weapon. He popped up again. One man was writhing in the road, but the other had disappeared. Stone’s best guess was behind his former boulder.
He spoke into the radio. “Dino, Ed? Anybody there?”
Nothing.
“If you can hear me, one down in the road but alive and the other maybe behind the boulder where I shot the other guy.” Nothing. Why was he all alone? “Chopper, do you read?”
Nothing. He looked down at the radio and saw a small red light, flashing. “Insufficient charge,” he said aloud to himself, “and I don’t have another battery.”
He took another look up the road and saw two men dragging a third toward the Range Rover. He stood up, aimed just below them and emptied the magazine, walking his sightline up the road. He saw a headlamp explode on the Range Rover, then realized that both front doors had opened. The doors would be armored, giving them shelter. Stone looked up to see the chopper pass almost overhead, the pilot leaning out and waving at him. Stone pointed to his own ear and shook his head. The pilot nodded, then turned back toward the house.
Stone ran across the road and vaulted over the log gate. He heard firing from up the road, and bullets tearing into the log. Where the hell was everybody? He still had two more full magazines, so he reloaded and made a decision. He had to try for the house, before the Range Rover got here.
He stood up and started running.
59
Stone ran for the porch and through the side door, hardly slowing down. He closed the door behind him and looked around. “Hello? Anybody here?” Nothing.
He walked over to where the charger was plugged in and found a battery in it; the second radio was gone. He exchanged his dead battery for the good one, reloaded his gun belt with magazines for the machine gun, and pocketed some 9mm ones for his pistol. Where could they have gone?
He walked into the living room and looked out the front windows, down to the dock. Only a wisp of smoke was rising from the wreckage now, and there was no one in sight. He picked up the radio. “Chopper One, Barrington.”
There was a lot of static and a broken transmission. Stone got only one word: “refuel.” He hoped the man was in Rockland for that, not headed back north. Stone got the joystick controller and checked the outside cameras. Nothing was moving on any camera. He stopped and went left a few feet. Except one armored Humvee. It was coming down the road from the north, and there was a .50-caliber machine gun mounted on the rear open bay, manned by a character in the usual black body armor. The vehicle swung wide to the left, then turned back until it was ninety degrees to the big log gate.
He can’t climb over it, Stone said to himself. He doesn’t have enough road clearance. What’s he going to do now?
He got a quick answer. The Humvee rolled forward until its steel-beam front bumper was hard against the log, then he heard the engine start to slowly rev.
That will never work, Stone said. Not even with four-wheel drive.
There was a shifting noise and the Humvee tried again. There was a groaning sound to be heard now, as if the vehicle was trying to break the log in two. Instead, the hinges fastening the log to a thick post began to shear their bolts.
“Oh, shit,” Stone said aloud. Stone looked around the rooms for a heavier weapon than his machine gun. Ed said he’d used a rocket launcher on the boat. Where the hell is it? The best he could do was a 12-gauge riot gun, and that wasn’t going to work. He looked for the Remington deer rifle that Ed had spoken of, and that was gone, too.
The Humvee redoubled its efforts, and the log began to move, sliding slowly across the paved drive. The opening it left was widening, and in another minute, the vehicle would be able to just drive through it.
Stone picked up the radio. “Chopper One, Barrington. Do you read?”
“I read,” a scratchy voice came back. “I needed fuel from Rockland. Be with you in a few minutes.”
“Faster, please. I’ve got what amounts to a tank coming at me, and I can’t look at it without catching lots of .50-caliber rounds.”
“Coming as fast as I can.”
The Humvee nosed the log out of its way and lumbered on, toward the house. The mounted machine gun began firing into the house, hammering against the steel shutters, penetrating some of them. Stone hit the floor
and hugged it. Those were armor-piercing rounds, he figured.
He heard the Humvee come to a squeaky halt, and the engine shut down. Then came a voice over a bullhorn. “Everybody in the house outside now, or I’ll reduce the building to kindling wood and kill everyone inside.”
That was not an inviting choice, Stone thought. He raised his head and shouted, “Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” the voice said. “Come outside, all of you.”
“I’m alone,” Stone answered. “Nobody here but me.”
“All right, you come outside, unarmed. No rifle, no handgun, nothing. Or you can die there. No difference to me.”
“All right,” Stone yelled, “I’ll come outside. Don’t shoot me.”
“If you’re not armed, I’ve no reason to shoot you.”
“I’m coming.” Stone got to his feet, opened the door, and tossed the machine gun out into the driveway, followed by his handgun. “That’s everything I’ve got.” He peeked out the door, then drew back quickly.
“Don’t be shy; come on out.”
Stone spoke into the radio. “I have to go outside. Make some sort of ruckus, if you can do it without being shot down.”
No response. Stone tested the waters with one foot outside.
“Keep coming!”
Stone walked out onto the porch and into the driveway. The right passenger door of the Humvee opened, and somebody got out, using the door for shelter. Stone could see his legs, up to the knee. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Who do you think?” the man asked, stepping from behind the door. Not an inch of him was exposed. He wore thick gloves, body armor, and a combat helmet with a face mask.
“I want Gromyko,” Stone said. “I want the Greek.”
“I am the Greek,” the man said.
“You’re not the Greek. I know the Greek. Come on,” Stone said, “take the fucking mask off, so I’ll know who you are.”
“You want to see the man who kills you?”
“Yes, I want to see the man who thinks he has the balls to kill me.” He wished he could look around, because he thought he must have help out there somewhere. He heard the helicopter for the first time.
