‘What’s happening?’
‘Hide and seek. Preferably without the seek. I need you to squeeze yourself into that air duct.’
He looked very pale. ‘Do I have to?’
‘If you want to live.’
Kovic and Hannah lifted him together. Jin Jié reached out and pulled himself into the shaft.
‘Nothing like the proximity of death to give you that extra spurt of energy.’
He held Hannah’s shoulders. ‘Now you. Feet first. You need to be facing the grille.’
‘How many are there?’
‘I don’t know. Could be twenty, could be fifty.’
‘We don’t have enough ammunition.’
‘We’ll have to make it stretch – no missing. Take this.’
He handed her the sub-machine gun he had taken off the soldier in the lobby. She squeezed into the shaft beside Jin Jié and turned on to her stomach. He replaced the grille.
‘Wait until you have a clear shot. Don’t waste bullets.’
‘How will they know to try this room?’
‘We’re going to lure them in.’
Wu had his ear to the door.
‘They’re in the corridor. Here.’
He handed him one of two sub-machine guns he’d brought up on the luggage trolley.
Kovic went into the bathroom, turned on the shower and drew the curtain, then came back out. The noise might distract them. Opposite was a locked connecting door to the next suite; he forced the handle. On the other side was a second door to the next room. The gap between them was less than two feet deep. He beckoned to Wu. They stepped into it and shut themselves in between the two doors.
In the cramped space their breaths and heartbeats sounded deafening. They heard the main door open, then a mumble of hushed voices. There was no guarantee that they wouldn’t make straight for the connecting door. Kovic had to believe that the sound of the shower would attract enough of them to make Hannah’s shot worth it.
A torch beam swept along the gap at the bottom of their door. There were more muffled voices. The room was filling with men. One was so close to them on the other side of the door that they could hear his breathing. Come on, Hannah – do your thing.
Just as he was beginning to think there was a problem, a sharp burst of fire splintered the air, and then a second, followed by several shouts and groans. Wu and Kovic burst through the door. Several men were down and Hannah’s fire had sent the others crouching for cover by the window. Kovic aimed and with one short burst, the entire wall of glass crazed and dropped away into the night. To gether they raked the area with fire until all those who were huddled by the window fell away too.
The firing stopped. Kovic helped himself to one of the dead men’s weapons and signalled to Wu to stay in position. For the second time that night he saw himself as if he was in a movie, two machine guns at his hip ready to blast away. Even now, there was still something intoxicating about a firefight. But his elation was cut short. One of the fallen men lifted a weapon and aimed. A huge red hole appeared in Wu’s chest. He slumped to his knees. Kovic leaped towards him as Hannah took down the shooter with a burst of fire.
Kovic eased Wu to the ground, cradling his head. There was nothing he could do. The exit wound was a six-inch crater, exposing his heart.
‘Jesus, fuck, no!’
Wu gripped his arm.
‘Guess I’m not going to make it to America.’
Kovic stared into his friend’s eyes.
‘That road through Big Sur, Route . . .’
‘Route 1.’
‘You make that drive for me.’
‘You know my driving – you sure about that?’
Wu smiled and then the light went from his eyes.
Kovic blinked away the tears and looked round. The door to the corridor was open and he had no idea how many more there were out there.
He ran towards the door and kicked it shut. Then, as an afterthought, he picked up the grenade that Wu had lifted and set it between the door and the frame, ready to blow if anyone entered the room. He looked up at the grate, now shredded by Hannah’s fire, and gestured for her to follow him. Together they lowered Jin Jié down and then moved quickly across the suite, through the connecting door into the second room. They waited. There was almost total silence, except for the howl of the wind.
The blast of the grenade shook the room, showering them in plaster. Kovic motioned for Hannah to stay put, then cautiously moved back into the suite. There were dead Chinese soldiers everywhere, just visible through the smoke. No one moved. He thought he heard a creak of boot leather. If there were more out there, he wanted them where he could see them before he fired. He waited. What was left of the door moved an inch and then another. In the smoke and dust he could make out one figure holding a small firearm in his outstretched hands.
The man stepped into the room. He had no uniform, just jeans, jacket and ski mask. Then Kovic recognised the weapon. He breathed out.
‘What took you so long?’
Garrison’s Marines.
76
‘C’mon in, boys. Check out the room service.’
The three Marines, Irish, Pac and Recker, filed into the room. Kovic imagined the gleam that would have been in Wu’s eye as America came a step closer. As they exchanged handshakes, the Marines gazed at the corpses, at least ten, spreadeagled across the floor and over the white leather.
‘Man, you really cleaned up here.’
‘Yeah, you missed a great party.’
They tensed as they heard the door to the second room move. Hannah emerged.
Kovic stepped back.
‘She’s with us. There’s another one in there; he’s injured.’
‘These your VIPs?’ Hannah looked at the Marines.
‘Affirmative, they have priority check-in.’
Together they helped Jin Jié into the room and set him on his feet.
‘Jeez, this guy’s pretty smashed up. Can you walk okay, buddy?’
‘It’s a long way down the stairs, or we could risk the elevator.’
Jin Jié tried to straighten up.
‘It’s okay. I’m good.’
He smiled, then swayed and collapsed against the wall.
Kovic steered him to a chair.
‘We’ll never make it out that way. They know we’re up here.’ Kovic pointed at the floor. ‘And there are hundreds more of these guys where they came from.’
Irish shrugged. ‘They our orders – seaborne evac. We go out the way we came in.’
Hannah looked at him, confused. ‘What d’you mean? That wasn’t your helicopter we heard?’
Her face clouded. Kovic hadn’t said anything to her about the Chinese machine on the roof.
Kovic and the Marines exchanged glances.
She gestured at the ceiling. ‘So what was that, then?’
Still Kovic didn’t speak. Hannah looked thunderous. ‘That’s how we’re getting out. What’s wrong?’ She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him towards her, screaming.
‘You said Jin Jié shouldn’t stay in Shanghai – that you would get us out. I went along with it. Now we’re fucking screwed. I trusted you, you – bastard!’
The building shuddered with another explosion.
Kovic went over to the hole where the window had been, the wind blasting his face, threatening to suck him out right out of the room. He took out the handset for the gondola, prayed that it still worked. The cranes whirred towards him. The gondola moved closer, but stubbornly stayed more than a metre adrift from the floor of the room. He turned to the others.
‘You coming?’
Pac gasped and looked at Recker, who shook his head.
‘You’re kidding, right?’
Jin Jié’s eyes widened. He clutched on to Hannah.
‘I don’t know that I can do this. I suffer from vertigo.’
‘Just leap. You can do it.’
Kovic was all out of patience.
‘You’ll be suff
ering from death if you don’t. If you can save China you can get into this thing. Just don’t look down.’
Kovic went first. He stepped back and took a couple of running steps. But as he jumped, the wind swung the gondola towards him, closing the gap, so he overshot. His legs crashed into the base but the rest of him from his hips up was over the far side of the gondola, winding him as the weight of his torso tipped him out the other side. He was staring down at the concrete and flashing lights a hundred and forty floors below. He dropped his weapon as he tried to grab hold of the side with both hands, too late. He went head first over the edge and ended up dangling from just one hand.
‘Has this guy got some kinda death wish?’ said Pac. He jumped, made a perfect landing in the gondola and grasped Kovic’s arm. Then he hauled him up, seized his belt and tipped him back into the gondola where he landed in a heap.
‘Okay, good.’
‘I know,’ said Pac. ‘You were just showing me how not to do it.’
Irish followed. As he landed, the cable holding one end of the gondola dropped a couple of feet so they were now hanging at an ungainly angle.
‘Jeez, how many’s this thing hold?’
‘Two, more or less.’
Recker grabbed the gondola. ‘This like the Titanic, man.’
‘Hold it steady, for fuck’s sake!’ screamed Hannah as she positioned Jin Jié. Together with Pac, they manoeuvred him in. Hannah went last with an expert leap.
Kovic put up his hand.
‘No one speak.’
All they had to do now was pray none of the incoming soldiers looked out of the window.
Kovic worked the remote. The gondola shuddered, then started to rise.
Hannah looked at him again in dismay.
‘I thought we were going down?’
‘Give me a minute, okay. I want to see what we got up there.’
Pac and Irish trained their weapons on the window as they rose. Kovic stopped the gondola just before it came level with the parapet. He peered over. The helicopter was an aging Z-9, its long rotor blades hanging low around it like huge drooping petals. His pulse quickened. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a guard patrolling the perimeter turn the corner to come towards them.
He turned to the Marines beside him and whispered.
‘Anyone got a blade?’
Irish handed him a KA-BAR combat knife.
Kovic waited, watching the guard approach. It seemed to take forever. When he was almost upon them, he sprang out, threw an arm round his neck and took him down silently with a well-aimed thrust of the knife. Then he dragged him over the perimeter wall and let him drop.
Irish looked at the Z-9. ‘You think you can get back to the Valkyrie in that?’
Hannah saw the gleam in Kovic’s eyes as he briefed them.
‘Whatever we do, we take the crew alive. I don’t have time to read the manual. There are three guards: Irish, take the one at the rear, Pac, the one near the nose, I’ll take the centre one and for fuck’s sake don’t hole the bird. Don’t let anyone come through. Jin Jié, stay here till we have the aircraft secure.’
They scrambled out of the gondola and charged across the roof, shooting. As soon as the pilot saw them he fired up the engines. The rotors stirred from their slumber and slowly swept the area. Irish missed the rear guard who let off a burst that sent them running for cover behind the head of the stairwell.
The rotors were gaining speed. The downforce was almost overwhelming. The rear guard dashed behind the tail rotor.
‘Don’t let him leave!’ He turned to Recker. ‘Take out the pilot.’
Recker grinned as he aimed, relishing the challenge. For a second he was dead still.
His single shot pierced the Ple xiglas and the pilot fell forward. Recker turned and gave Kovic the thumbs up as the tail guard emerged from behind the craft.
‘Over there!’ screamed Kovic, pointing frantically. Recker whirled round and took out the guard.
The stairwell door opened. Jesus, thought Kovic, they just keep coming.
‘Hold them off!’
Pac emptied a mag down the stairs.
Hannah reached Kovic, pulling Jin Jié with her.
‘Load him in.’ He looked at Recker. ‘You wanna ride?’
Recker shook his head. ‘We’ll hold them off for you. That crate’s got no weaponry.’
Kovic climbed aboard, grabbed the dead pilot, took off his headset and heaved him out of the cockpit.
Hannah scrambled in, hauling Jin Jié with her.
‘Have you flown one of these before?’
‘Sure.’
‘When?’
‘It’s been a while.’
More than a while. And it had only been a training run. He scanned the controls, a mass of dials and lights blinking at him, all a blur. He felt for the controls and it started to come back, the collective down to the left of the seat, the cyclic in front of him. He put his feet on the pedals. The instructor’s words drifted back to him. Think of it as like ballet, every limb keeping you moving, keeping you balanced. Kovic didn’t feel very balletic right now. He twisted the throttle grip and heard the whine of the shafts climbing as the rotors tensed, clawing at the air. He heaved on the collective, depressing the right pedal to counteract the torque from the increased pitch of the blades. Gradually the machine started to struggle into the air. It was nothing like the nimble little TH-67 he had trained on, more like a truck. He needed as much altitude as he could get before he moved out from above the building or gravity would have its way. He pushed the stick forward, and the nose dipped. He pulled back – too much – and the tail scraped the roof, nearly taking off the rear rotor. After what seemed a lifetime he got it level and continued to rise. Three metallic cracks warned him of fire coming from below. He looked round at Hannah who had found herself a headset and managed to strap Jin Jié into a seat. He switched on the comms.
He pushed the cyclic further forward and the nose tipped again.
‘Come on, baby—’
He willed it forward but the Z-9 was taking its time. They were now right over the perimeter wall, Kovic striving to find both the lift and the speed to move into full forward flight and escape the rotor wash into clean air. He skimmed the parapet round the perimeter of the roof, almost catching the gondola cranes. The tower and the machine seemed to drop like a stone towards the city below. He twisted the throttle up to full revs and yanked the stick back in an attempt to pull out of the dive. Nothing happened. They were dropping and gaining speed. Then he remembered – stick forward, drive out of the dive. He thrust it forward and prayed. It was touch and go in the battle between the rotors and gravity. The machine levelled and then began to ascend.
The comms in his headset crackled. It was Hannah. ‘Sorry I doubted you.’
Kovic turned and grinned at her. ‘No problem. I had it covered. Now get up here and make the radio work. Find out where the fuck we’re supposed to be headed.’
77
USS Valkyrie, South China Sea
Kovic jolted awake and sat up. For a few seconds he had no recollection of where he was. He felt a strange swaying sensation as if there was something wrong with his balance. Then he looked over to where the light was coming from. A porthole – he was on board the Valkyrie. He had made it.
They should have crashed. Once he had levelled out they headed due south for the sea and none of the other craft in the sky noticed them, just an old Z-9 chuntering along looking for all the world like it was on a milk run to the Chinese fleet. His navigation skills were zero and Hannah had made the most of that. She also claimed it was her idea to take the helicopter. In a way she was right. She had shamed him into it, though they both knew there was no other way, not with Jin Jié in the state he was. But they hadn’t bargained for the fuel level. Either the engines drank like a dying man in the desert, or one of the tanks had been grazed in the firefight. The warning light was blinking at them before they had even cleared land. And then there was the sea mi
st, lying like a deceptively soft fluffy mattress, so successfully concealing the Valkyrie that they had to be talked down by the Command Tower. Somewhere on this descent, he had gone blank for a second so they came in hard, smashing up the landing gear, which left the Z-9 leaning on the remains of two of its rotor blades.
He remembered turning to Hannah whose face was a mask of disdain.
‘Did I pass?’
And she had leaned over and kissed him.
‘I’ll get back to you about that.’
There was a soft knocking at the door.
‘Come in.’
A young steward stood at the door with a tray.
‘Good morning, sir. Commander Garrison would like to know if you would care to join him for breakfast.’
‘What time is it?’
‘Seven a.m., sir.’
Kovic frowned. It had been almost dawn when they landed. He waved the crewman in.
‘How long have I been in here?’
‘About twenty-six hours, sir.’
No wonder he felt so rested. The steward put the mug of tea on the bedside table and indicated a set of clothing folded over a chair.
‘There’s some fresh kit for you, sir.’
It was an officer’s khaki shirt and pants. He looked at them doubtfully. He had never worn a uniform in his life. The idea of putting one on now made him feel like an impostor. But wasn’t that what he had always been?
‘Give me ten minutes.’
Showered, shaved and dressed, Kovic followed the steward to Garrison’s quarters. The vessel was alive with activity as he travelled up near vertical stairs and squeezed along narrow corridors. Overhead came the throb of helicopters and Ospreys; on deck, hooters blasted. There were shouts from crew and coded announcements blared over the PA.
‘So it’s started?’
‘Looks like it, sir.’
He took a deep breath and knocked.
Garrison was standing with his back to the door. The first thing Kovic noticed was the photograph of his son, Tommy. Garrison slowly turned and followed his gaze. He looked older than his age, his eyes tired from seeing too many men go to their deaths.
Battlefield 4: Countdown to War Page 28