Hellfire

by Richard Turner

  “That was too close,” said Mitchell.

  “You’re telling me,” replied Jackson. “I didn’t think there would be any traffic on this road so early in the morning.”

  “Neither did I.”

  “Car!” hollered Grace, as the back end of the last Hummer seemed to appear out of nowhere.

  Jackson slammed on the brakes. With a loud protesting squeal from the vehicle’s brakes, the Rover slowed, barely avoiding hitting the back of the other vehicle.

  In the blink of an eye, Grace jumped up behind the machine gun mounted on the back of the Rover. She pulled back on the charging handle, feeding a bullet from the ammunition belt into the chamber. The Hummer in front of them was heavily armored. She knew that it would be pointless to fire into the body of the vehicle; instead, she took aim at its tires and pulled back on the trigger.

  The unexpected sound of the machine gun firing right above their heads startled Mitchell and Jackson. Both men instinctively ducked down in their seats.

  Grace knew that hitting the tires of a moving vehicle was not as easy as it looks. After a couple of seconds, Grace swore, changed targets, and fired off a long sustained burst into the rear windshield. Besides startling the men in the back of the Hummer, all Grace did was waste ammunition. The glass was far too thick for the bullets to penetrate.

  “Sir, the rear vehicle reports that it’s under attack,” reported Sophie to her boss.

  Houston ground his teeth in anger. He snatched up his tablet and enlarged the picture feed from a camera mounted on the back of the last Hummer. His blood instantly began to boil when he saw who it was.

  “I should have let McMasters put a bullet in your head,” snarled Houston as he glared down at the image of Mitchell.

  “Sir, what should I tell them to do?”

  “Tell them to kill them all. I’ve had enough of these people and their foolish heroics.”

  With that, Houston sat back and stared ahead. He told himself that it was only a minor inconvenience. Once Mitchell and his people were dealt with, it would be an easy fifteen-minute ride to the border. He wasn’t about to let anyone stop him from fulfilling his destiny.

  “Stop it, you’re wasting ammo!” yelled Mitchell at Grace.

  She lifted her finger off the trigger. The gun went silent.

  “What are we gonna do?” asked Jackson.

  “Wait until he turns around another bend and then ram the rear of the Hummer as hard as you can,” replied Mitchell. “Hopefully, that will force him off the road.”

  Suddenly, a hatch flipped up on the Hummer. Like a jack-in-the-box, a man popped up with a submachine gun in his hands.

  Mitchell went for his AK. Grace was faster and fired off a quick burst, killing him. The man’s bloodied corpse slid back inside the Hummer.

  The Hummer began to take a sharp turn.

  “Hang on,” yelled Jackson, as he jammed his foot down on the gas pedal.

  Mitchell barely had time to grab hold of the Rover’s roll bar before Jackson slammed the front of their vehicle into the back of the Hummer. The jarring impact sent Grace tumbling back into her seat.

  Up ahead, the Hummer, hit hard, swerved on the narrow road. The driver panicked and overcompensated. At first, it looked as if the Hummer might recover. However, as if in slow motion, it slid off the road. With a loud crash, it slipped over onto its side and then began to tumble end over end down the side of the mountain for several seconds before crashing into a large boulder and bursting into flames.

  “One down, six more to go,” said Jackson.

  Mitchell turned his head to see how Grace was, when he noticed that their other Rover wasn’t there.

  “Where’s the other Rover?” said Mitchell to Grace, who looked behind her and shrugged her shoulders.

  Mitchell reached for his Motorola. “Damn it Cardinal, where are you?”

  A second later, he got his answer when the shadow from a massive helicopter flying high above raced past them on the road.

  Mitchell looked up. With an incredulous look on his face, he keyed the mic. “Please tell me that’s you up there.”

  “Yeah, Yuri couldn’t help himself,” replied Cardinal. “What do you want us to do?”

  Mitchell took one quick look at the Hummer in front of them and passed on what he wanted Yuri to do. It was going to take careful timing, but he knew his friends wouldn’t let him down.

  48

  The Situation Room

  The White House

  The mood in the room slowly changed from one of jubilation to one of somber reality. The strike on Houston’s base was over, but scores of people had been killed in the fiery explosions.

  “How long until we get our first bomb damage assessment?” asked the president.

  “Sir, the first of our Special Forces teams will be landing in less than five minutes’ time,” answered General Patterson. “After that, it may take some time until it’s safe enough for them to enter the base and conduct a proper analysis.”

  “General, what I need to know right away is did we or did we not destroy the anthrax.”

  “Sir, the men will have portable chemical detectors with them. If there’s anthrax in the air, they’ll know it within seconds of landing.”

  “That’s good news,” said President Kempt with a nod.

  A phone unexpectedly rang on the desk in front of Dan Leonard. An aide reached for the phone. Leonard shook his head and answered it. Thirty seconds later, he turned to look at Kempt with a look on his face as if he was about to be sick.

  “What’s wrong, Dan?” asked Kempt, seeing the upset expression on his friend’s face.

  “Sir, I’ve got Jack O’Reilly on the phone,” said Leonard. “He said that the anthrax wasn’t in the base when the UAVs struck. Houston managed to escape and took it with him.”

  Kempt shot out of his seat. “How the hell does he know what happened?”

  “It would appear that some of his people were there and saw what was going on. He said that they barely managed to get away with their lives.”

  “Mitchell,” said Kempt, under his breath. The man seemed to be everywhere. “Dan, does O’Reilly know where Houston is now?”

  “No, sir, all he knows is that Houston got away.”

  Kempt clenched his fist. He could not believe that Houston had miraculously slipped away. I’ve got a leak somewhere. Someone must have warned him, thought Kempt. He silently vowed to have the CIA Director track down any traitors in his administration the instant the crisis was over.

  Kempt said, “Anne, leave the unarmed UAV to keep an eye on the base and re-task the two Predators to find Houston, ASAP.”

  “Sir, what are we looking for?” asked Hook.

  Kempt looked over at Leonard.

  “Jack said to look for a convoy of six or seven up-armored vehicles. They’re probably heading for the border with Montenegro,” replied Leonard.

  Hook nodded. Her aide, a young Hispanic woman sitting directly behind her, quickly dug out a cellphone and made the call.

  “Jesus,” muttered Kempt. Houston was loose with a deadly disease in his hands.

  President Kempt took a deep breath and then fixed his steely gaze on Hook. “Anne, you still have one fully armed Predator, don’t you?”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Hook.

  “Good. The instant Houston’s convoy is spotted, I want it vectored overtop.”

  Anne Hook asked Patterson, “General, will the Predator’s thermobaric bombs work as well in the open as they did inside the base?”

  Patterson shook his head. “They’re better when used in confined spaces. If we used them in the open, I can’t say for sure if they would destroy the anthrax.”

  Kempt jumped in. “Folks, I don’t want the UAV to engage the convoy unless it’s absolutely necessary. Things have changed. I want the anthrax captured along with Houston. There’s no way in hell he’s going to escape a second time.”

  Patterson said, “Sir, I can divert one of the Speci
al Forces teams to capture him. We have three converging on the airfield as we speak.”

  “Do it,” ordered Kempt.

  Hook said, “Sir, I think it would be best if the Secretary of State were to call the Montenegrin Ambassador and give him a heads-up that we are in hot pursuit of a known terrorist. We may have to cross into his country to apprehend the fugitives.”

  Kempt nodded his concurrence. It was going to be a race to stop Houston, one Kempt did not intend to lose.

  49

  Mountain Road

  “So that’s your plan?” said Jackson to Mitchell, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Nate, I’m open to suggestions,” replied Mitchell. “Unless I hear a decent suggestion in the next five seconds, we’re going with my plan.”

  “I’m in,” said Grace.

  “Fine,” said Jackson. “Ryan, take the wheel.”

  With that, Mitchell leaned over and placed his hands on the steering wheel as Jackson and Grace scrambled past one another to trade spots in the Rover.

  Mitchell spoke into his Motorola. “Okay, Gordon, we’re set, see what you can do about the Hummer in front of us.”

  Above, the helicopter edged forward in the sky until it was directly above the Hummer. Leaning out the side door of the helicopter, Cardinal saw his target below. He adjusted his aim for distance and wind and slowly pulled back on the trigger. Less than a second later, a hail of bullets struck the roof of the Hummer right above the driver. Although heavily armored on the sides and the underneath of the vehicle chassis, the armor on the roof was relatively thin.

  Inside the Hummer, the driver, hit several times in the neck and hands, jerked in his seat as the bullets tore into his body. Before anyone could react, the doomed man’s hands slipped off the driver’s wheel. The Hummer veered hard right, hitting a massive boulder on the side of the road. With a loud crunch, it bounced off the rock and headed for the steep cliff on the left side off the road. A second later, it was gone.

  As they drove past the spot where the Hummer went over the side, Mitchell glanced down and saw it lying on its side a good three hundred meters below.

  “Sir, McMasters wants to speak to you,” said Sophie, her voice tense and scared.

  Taking the tablet, Houston gruffly said, “Yeah, I know we’ve got trouble. Can you send one of the lead escort vehicles back to deal with the bastards?”

  “No can do,” answered McMasters. “The road is just too narrow. Perhaps you should call for backup.”

  Houston gripped the tablet until his knuckles turned white. “I’ll do that. Can you at least do something about that damned helicopter?”

  “Yeah, that I can.”

  “Then do it!” snapped Houston.

  Ten minutes ago, Houston had everything going in his favor, but now he estimated that his odds had dropped to about seventy percent. Good odds, but not good enough. He looked over at Sophie and asked her to dial his contact in the Albanian military.

  A couple of moments passed before a tired-sounding voice came over the line.

  “General, listen and listen closely,” hissed Houston. “I’m under attack. If I don’t make it across the border in the next ten minutes, I’ll make sure that your name gets leaked to the press, and you’ll go down for what just happened at the airfield. Got it?”

  “Mister Houston, there’s no need to worry,” said the general, suddenly wide-awake. “I’ll dispatch support to your location right away.”

  “Make sure that you do,” replied Houston.

  Above the winding mountain road, Yuri kept the massive logging helicopter over the top of Mitchell’s Rover, in case he needed help. He was about to ask Cardinal for an update when Sam reached over and grabbed his arm.

  “Look out!” yelled Sam as she pointed at the two lead Hummers.

  Yuri looked out of the cockpit as men armed with submachine guns popped the roof hatches on their vehicles and stood up. In less than a second, bullets filled the air as the gunmen tried to bring down the chopper. Instantly applying power to the engines, Yuri brought the helicopter over and higher up in the sky, taking them out of range.

  “You okay, little lady?” asked Yuri.

  Sam nodded, thankful that Yuri had lightning-fast reflexes when he flew.

  “Uh, I’m okay as well, you two,” said Cardinal in their headsets.

  “Da,” said Yuri dryly. “Any damage back there?”

  “To be honest, with this flying rust bucket, I’m not sure I could tell,” said Cardinal.

  “Gauges all look fine to me,” said Yuri as he looked over the control panel. “We’ll be okay for now.”

  Sam said, “Gord, can you take out those men?”

  “Not from this range with this rusty old AK,” replied Cardinal, wishing that he had his Barrett .50 cal sniper rifle with him.

  “I guess they’re on their own for now,” said Sam unhappily.

  “Looks that way,” replied Cardinal.

  Mitchell fired off a quick burst, shattering the camera mounted on the back of the semi-trailer. With a grin, he tapped Grace on the shoulder. “Okay, it’s time. See if you can approach from the passenger side of the semi-trailer.”

  Grace nodded her head and waited for her chance to race up the side of the long trailer.

  Even without a camera to see behind him, the truck driver knew that someone was back there. He began to weave back and forth on the road, trying to make it impossible for Grace to pass.

  Grace backed off and smiled to herself. She moved to the right slightly and tried to see past the semi-trailer. Up ahead, she saw a straight stretch of road. Immediately, she knew what she had to do; however, it was going to take nerves of steel. Changing gears, Grace made a move to race past the semi-trailer on the driver’s side. As expected, the driver saw the move and swerved to the left, blocking the way. In a flash, she dropped behind the semi, jammed her foot down on the accelerator, changed gears, and then sped down the other side of the truck.

  “Get ready, Nate,” called Mitchell over his shoulder.

  A split second later, they were beside the semi-trailer’s passenger-side door.

  Jackson reached over, took hold of a metal bar running beside the door and, with a prayer on his lips, he swung himself over onto the truck, his feet landing on the slender metal footstep.

  Grace never slowed. She kept her foot down hard on the gas pedal. A second later, she shot out in front of the semi-trailer.

  Before the guard sitting in the passenger seat knew what was happening, the door was pulled open and a hand reached inside, grabbing him by the collar. With a surprised cry, the thug was hauled from his seat and thrown from the cab.

  Without bothering to see where the man landed, Jackson leapt up into the cab, slammed the door closed behind him, and quickly drew his pistol on the stunned driver. He was about to tell the driver to slow down and look for a place to pull off when the totally unexpected happened. The driver, scared out of his mind at the sight of the weapon, threw open his door and jumped.

  “Jesus,” muttered Jackson as he scrambled over into the vacant seat. He slipped behind the wheel, closed the driver’s door, and looked down at the dash. He’d never driven a semi-trailer before. How hard could it be, thought Jackson. Trying to slow the speeding eighteen-wheeler, Jackson applied the brakes and tried to change the gear, only to find that he had no idea how to work a double-clutch system. The sound of grinding gears filled the cab. With the semi-trailer somewhat under his control, Jackson cringed as the gearbox loudly protested while he looked for a spot to pull off and await the authorities.

  Grace pulled up close behind McMasters’ armored truck, and glanced at Mitchell. “Now what?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Mitchell. “I honestly hadn’t thought this far ahead.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “Just keep close behind the armored truck while I figure something out.”

  Sam was growing impatient. She wanted to be on the ground with Mitchell trying to stop the convoy,
not sitting in a helicopter safely watching the fight from afar. She leaned out from her seat trying to see what was going on down below, when out of the corner of her eye, she spotted something coming straight at them.

  Suddenly, Sam screamed, “Yuri, bank hard left!”

  Without asking why, Yuri pushed the helicopter’s joystick over to the left. The helicopter may have been decades old, but in Yuri’s skilled hands it acted as if it were brand new.

  As if appearing out of thin air, a fully armed Predator drone flew past the helicopter, missing it by mere meters.

  “That was close,” said Sam, sitting forward in her chair trying to see where the UAV had gone.

  By the open door, Cardinal was swearing up a storm. For the second time in only a few minutes, he’d almost been thrown out of the helicopter by Yuri’s sudden sharp turns in the air.

  Sam asked, “Gordon, can you see the UAV from back there?”

  Cardinal took a deep breath to calm his racing heart, popped his head out the open door, and looked around. A second later, he spotted the UAV already a kilometer away, banking over in the sky. “Got it,” said Cardinal. “Looks like it’s coming around again.”

  “Is it friendly?” asked Yuri.

  “Looks like it’s a fully loaded Predator, so I’d have to say it’s American,” replied Cardinal.

  “Yeah, but is it friendly?” queried Sam.

  “I don’t think we’ll know until it opens fire.”

  50

  The Situation Room

  The White House

  Almost eight thousand kilometers away, the image of Yuri’s massive helicopter filled the screen as the Predator popped up from behind a tall mountain and flew towards a small convoy of vehicles making its way towards the border.