by Eddy Will
“Damn,” Jack said. He saw a low brick wall and white Greek statues set at regular intervals atop the wall. The heavy machine gun had been placed on the far side of the wall, behind the plinth of a tall statue. It would take more than a lucky shot to hit the gunner crouched behind the wall. But Jack could hit the flood light high up on the side of the house. He shoved his elbow into the mud and took careful aim. Tarpov had the same idea and before Jack could pull the trigger, Tarpov fired three shots. The glass cover exploded and the bulb shattered, plunging the lawn once again into darkness. The gunner opened fire, Tarpov’s muzzle flash giving him a target. Jack fired back at the gunner, whose heavy gun spewed death. It was only a matter of time before the big gun would find its target, Jack thought. They were sitting ducks and there was little he could do.
An engine screamed in the dark and a light cone swept the lawn and tree line in the distance, flooding the area in bright white light. Moments later the bright high beams turned to the lawn, lighting up the gunner behind the wall and blinding Jack. He squinted and then the lights disappeared behind the gunner’s wall, but the engine still roared. Seconds later the gunner ran from his perch, lit up brightly now by the car’s high beams. But it was too late for the man. The vehicle crashed into the wall, catapulting the heavy gun and its operator high into the air, smashing the wall and sending white Greek statues tumbling to the ground.
“Styx,” Jack said, shouting into the radio. “Cover her.”
Jack and Tarpov turned in their muddy makeshift fox holes. Styx’s high beams lit up two gunmen at the corner of the building. They stood frozen, witness to the obliteration of the heavy machine gun and its operator. Jack fired at the exposed men, sending one sprawling to the ground and the other diving for cover. Jack and Tarpov continued firing at the corner, keeping the gunmen in check.
Styx tore up the lawn with the big tires of the SUV as she cut a large arc into the grass. The passenger door swung open and Tarpov raced for the car. Jack stood up in the flower bed and continued pinning down the gunmen.
“Run,” roared Tarpov and Jack moved. He sprinted for the car, the back door wide open and beckoning. Tarpov stood on the running board and fired at the gunman, who in turn fired around the corner, blasting a barrage of bullets at the car. Jack hurled his battered body into the backseat and Styx gunned the powerful engine, spinning the tires in the wet grass. The heavy vehicle fishtailed along the grass, gained traction and shot forward.
“Hold on,” she said, shouting over the screaming engine. The SUV barreled through the opening in the wall and headed for the narrow road, aiming between the burning garage and the shed, both engulfed in flames, lighting up the forest beyond. Jack scrambled into an upright position and looked back.
Okhota Lodge was on fire, flames lapping from windows and crawling up walls, in some places already reaching for the roof. The lodge was doomed.
“Good timing,” Tarpov said, as he plopped into the seat and pulled the door closed.
“I didn’t want to ruin your play date, but it looked like you lads were running short on options,” she said, as she raced down the road.
“There is an access road coming up on the left,” Jack said from the backseat. “Anna is about ten miles up that road and so are the hunters,” he said. He told Styx and Tarpov about the control room he had found in the basement of the lodge and the tracking device he had taken from the console. He pulled the unit from his pocket and handed it to Tarpov.
Tarpov powered up the unit and studied the display.
“Not very sportsmanlike, if the hunter has one of these,” he said with anger in his voice.
He tapped the screen, entered information and a third flag appeared on the screen.
“That’s our position,” Tarpov said. Jack looked at the new flag on the screen, as it inched its way across the digital map.
‘Hold out, Anna, I am coming,’ he prayed.
Chapter 54
The Carpathian Mountains, Romania, August 5, 2012, 4:21 AM
Anna had circled what was left of Remington’s camp. The hunter was alone with the exception of one tracker who appeared to be tending to a wounded man. This was her opportunity to finish the job, she thought. Remington had a rifle, which gave him a distinct advantage, but she had the momentum. He had to be rattled by her brazen attack. She had moved in a circle around the camp, searching for a line of attack. She had found a small road cut into the dense forest and worked her way closer to the camp. Moving slowly and methodically, she studied the landscape and took note of hiding places and escape routes. The fire that had consumed the tents had burnt out, but Remington stoked the camp fire and added more wood as the night was cold. Anna appreciated the guiding light he had inadvertently created for her.
She had closed to within forty yards of the camp. Remington stood motionless by the fire, clutching his rifle and staring into the woods where he had last seen his prey. This was almost too easy, she thought, but she would take it. She would take out the man who had paid a fortune for the opportunity to kill her. She felt no sympathy or doubt.
Anna loaded up an arrow into the bow and slowly moved in on the camp. If Remington turned and spotted her, her advantage was gone.
Thirty yards. Anna picked up a small rock and tossed it in a wide arc over the camp and into the foliage on the other side. The rock smacked against a tree and bounced into the brush. Remington perked up. He craned his neck in the direction of the sounds and shouldered his rifle. He spoke to the tracker and he, too, scanned the dark.
Anna hurried closer, soundlessly moving from tree to tree.
Twenty yards. Remington’s back was to her, his focus on the night on the other side of the camp. She needed to get closer. If she missed, she lost the element of surprise and Remington had the upper hand in an instant. Another tree, another five yards.
She heard the low rumble. She stood frozen and listened. The rumble grew louder and a bright powerful light flooded the night and lit her up. She squinted at the blinding light, her mind racing to place the sound and light that did not belong.
‘A car’. And still she did not understand. Remington had turned to the approaching vehicle and waived. Anna raised the bow and stepped out from behind the tree. Something was wrong, but she would not miss her opportunity. She would finish the job now. She pulled back on the bowstring and walked toward Remington who was shouting at the car, as if the driver had not seen him.
Anna’s focus honed in on her target as she took a step closer. Remington was distracted by the approaching vehicle. One more step. Ten yards.
The bright cone of the vehicle’s headlights lit up the camp and Remington, giving Anna a perfect target. She took another step and loosed the arrow at her tormentor’s back. The projectile entered the vehicle’s light beam and left it just as quickly. She had missed. Anna loaded another arrow, her focus now singular, the world receding. She only saw Remington as she stepped closer. The vehicle turned abruptly bumping over a rock, and the high beams arched across the darkness that had covered Anna like a thick blanket, the brightness exposing her, blinding her eyes. Anna dropped to the ground, the move more reflex than conscious effort. She cursed the involuntary response to the sudden light. It may have kept her hidden from the eyes of the driver, but it had also thwarted her best chance at killing Remington. It was not fair. Remington did not even know how lucky he had just been, how close he had been to death, to justice, to hell.
Anna watched through brush as the vehicle came to a stop, the headlights bathing Remington’s camp and her position in bright, cold light. Scrambling along the ground she crawled out of the cone of the bright light flooding the forest and entered the dark. The instant she left the cone and was out of sight, she turned sharply and ran parallel to the camp and vehicle. She ducked behind waist high brush. She had to get behind the vehicle, where there was no light. The car had to be support and back-up for Remington. It’s what he had been waiting for, she thought, as she hurried through the dark, keeping an eye
on the off-road vehicle. Shouts echoed through the dark night, Remington demanded boots and more floodlights to light up the night and the forest which hid his prey. Anna cut to the left again and stopped when she had reached a spot behind the hunter’s Jeep. She loaded an arrow into the bow and headed for the rear of the car. The night was her friend, but would soon give way to dawn and daylight. The arriving crew moved noisily, their attention focused on the ruined camp and their client, Remington. Appeasing the angry American was paramount.
Anna crouched behind a tree. She counted six men who had climbed from the jeep. Adding Remington and the surviving tracker, there were eight men versus her one-woman team. The vehicle was a problem for Anna. It had the ability to follow her across the uneven terrain, carrying a number of hunters and supplies. One of the new men approached the rear of the vehicle and pulled open the hatch door. He opened boxes and bags, organizing items in the cargo bay. Anna unsheathed her knife and hurried forward. She had an opening and she would take it. She ran, keeping her body close to the ground, using the bulk of the SUV as cover from the guards keeping watch. The bright dome light and loud conversation around the camp dulled the man’s senses. He did not hear the rapidly approaching woman. Anna flipped the knife in her hand and stepped behind the man bent over the cargo bay. She reached around and covered his mouth with one hand and ran the knife across his throat with the other. The man jerked in surprise, a scream muffled by her hand and seconds later it was over. Anna silently dropped the dead man behind the Jeep. She climbed into the car through the back and wrestled her body into the driver’s seat. She turned the key and flashed on the high beams. A guard turned and looked at the car, but the headlights blinded him. He called out in anger in a language she did not understand nor cared to.
Anna gunned the powerful engine and the heavy off-road vehicle lurched forward. The guard shouted and waived his hands. The wheels spun wildly in the mud, the engine screamed and then the tires gained traction and the car shot forward with a sudden jump. The car bounced over the rough terrain, the guard still waiving, but moving back. Anna stepped on the gas, aiming for the guard. Realization flashed across the man’s face and he raised his rifle. He fired a shot at the Jeep, but it was too late. The grated front grill ploughed the guard into the ground. Anna headed for the camp. Men turned and shouted in surprise. She only saw Remington. Nothing else mattered. Remington gawked at the bouncing vehicle coming at him. He had one foot in a boot, the other still barefoot. His rifle lay on the ground. He stood awkwardly. Anna clenched her hands around the steering wheel, her knuckles white. The jeep bounced hard on the uneven ground, throwing her around the cabin, the steering wheel her only anchor. The windshield shattered from a gunshot and cracked fragments of safety glass rained down on her. Anna was barley aware of guards in her periphery firing their weapons at the careening vehicle. A tire blew, pulling the Jeep hard to one side. Anna tore on the steering wheel struggling to keep control of the heavy car. The sudden change in direction put her on a direct collision course with two guards who stood by the campfire, their legs spread wide, both hands wrapped around handguns. Muzzle fire flashed brightly. Anna ducked behind the dashboard, her foot standing hard on the gas pedal. Window glass shattered amid a screaming shearing sound from the engine compartment. Anna felt two dull thuds, and then short screams. One of the guards crashed through what remained of the windscreen and tumbled on top of Anna, who had slipped of the front seat into the legroom. The Jeep bounced violently. A fusillade of gunfire exploded, pelting the cabin with bullets. Anna screamed, trapped under the heavy bulk of the guard. The car jumped again and suddenly was on a downhill track, picking up speed and rocking violently. Smoke entered the cabin from the engine compartment. Anna chocked and held her breath. ‘How much longer?’ she wondered. The answer came moments later. The out of control Jeep crashed hard into an immovable object, throwing Anna’s body forward, crushed by the guard’s body on top of her. The whistling sound of escaping steam from a crushed radiator pierced her ears and yanked her from the verge of unconsciousness. Smoke filled the cabin. Anna had to get out of the vehicle. She kicked and struggled to get out from under the heavy, lifeless body and wiggled her way to the passenger door. Pulling the handle, the door fell open but the gap was small. Anna twisted her body and wriggled from the car, slithering like a snake through the narrow opening. Flames leapt from the wheel compartment and squeezed out from under the wrinkled hood.
Anna panicked. After all that she had been through, she would not die in a car fire. She wiggled from the car and crawled on her hands and knees through the mud, tearing at the dirt with her hands, the smell of gasoline mixing with billowing smoke and fire. She scrambled to her feet using the downhill slope for momentum and raced from the burning car. The hunter’s Jeep exploded and the violent blast picked Anna off the ground and catapulted her forward like a doll thrown by an ill-tempered child. She flailed her arms and legs searching for balance where none was to be found, as she flew through the air. Anna slammed into the ground and rolled down a steep hill, when all went black.
Chapter 55
The Carpathian Mountains, Romania, August 5, 2012, 5:16 AM
Styx had steered the car along the narrow road, negotiating dozens of tight turns. The blue flag, symbolizing their position on the GPS tracking display had steadily closed in on the green and red flags, neither of which had moved, since they had started down the winding access road. The road had taken them through dense forest and up steep inclines and into rocky ravines. Jack wondered how his wife could have stayed alive in the rough terrain. She was used to the outdoors and had ample experience camping in the wild, but this was different. He prayed for Anna to hold out, when he heard unnatural sounds in the heart of nature.
“Slow down,” he said, “What are those sounds?” Styx stopped the slow moving vehicle laboring up an incline. Jack climbed from the car and listened in the crisp night air. A slither of light had appeared on the horizon, dawn was about to break. And then there it was again. The distant sound of a sharp clap, followed by a series of cracks.
“Gunshots,” Tarpov said, his voice clear, stating a fact.
“How far away?” Jack said, fear clenching his throat in a tight grip.
“Let’s go,” Tarpov said. “Maybe a mile.”
“Step on it,” Jack said and piled back in the car.
“I’ll do the best I can and still get us there in one piece,” Styx said and moved the car up the steep incline. The car had reached a plateau and was picking up speed, when a powerful explosion rocked the night and a bright flash shot across the sky.
“Somebody is in trouble,” Tarpov said, “But it doesn’t sound like that somebody is Anna,” he added.
Jack clenched his jaw and bit hard on his lip. A battle was raging a mile away and he was not there. The Russian was right, if the hunt was going the hunter’s way, there would be less gunfire and no explosions, but the logic did not help. He was going crazy with helplessness, clutching the firearm in his hand, unsnapping the magazine and slamming it back into place, just to yank it back out and start over.
“Jack, I can’t drive with you doing that,” Styx said, not taking her eyes of the winding road. She knew they were running out of time and did her best to move the vehicle forward. “As long as there is gunfire, Anna is still alive and hanging on,” she said, echoing Tarpov’s sentiment.
“Just drive,” Jack snapped. His eyes searched the road ahead for signs of Anna or the hunters. An uncontrollable rage rose inside his heart and the thought of coming face to face with the man paying to kill his wife blinded him with fury.
Chapter 56
The Carpathian Mountains, Romania, August 5, 2012, 5:23 AM
The world returned to Anna’s senses. Her hands felt the cold wet mud. She opened her eyes and remembered. The jeep, the gunshots, the dead body crushing her in the car, the brutal crash and the horrific explosion that hurled her body through the night, it all came back in a flash. Anna listened for sounds with
out moving. How long had she been unconscious? Where were the hunters? Voices drifted with the breeze. She pushed her battered body up from the muddy ground, her muscles achy and stiff and rolled on her back. She moaned in pain. Uphill the gutted Jeep burnt brightly. Silhouettes of men inspecting the carnage moved in and out of view. And there was Remington stalking around the wreck, pointing his rifle at the burning mess, as if someone might suddenly jump from the inferno and attack him.
And there was something else. The night had begun its slow retreat, making way for the day, for light, for exposure. She scrambled up and pushed her back against a tree. She had to move. Dawn was flooding the forest, exposing her hiding place with every passing minute. She got to her feet when shouts rang out. Heads turned in her direction and Remington craned his neck, snapping his rifle at her. Anna’s only defense was distance. She ducked as Remington fired twice. She sprinted into the fading night, her cover evaporating all around her. She raced down the incline gaining speed and distance from Remington’s deadly rifle. Shouts followed her into the ravine. She glanced back and cursed. Remington chased after her but he was not alone. Others spread out from the burning car and followed her into the ravine, seeking to reduce her angle of escape.
Remington lead the hunt, stumbling downhill, shouting at the men to back off, the woman was his. He was suddenly very sure of himself. Anna raced along the narrow ravine looking for a way out. A jagged wall of granite jutted from the hillside. Anna ran into a slim opening in the rock and flung her body upwards using the narrow gap to propel herself upward with hands and feet. The crack in the granite narrowed as she moved up. She grabbed a handhold and pulled her body up the sheer rock wall, her legs kicking, searching for purchase. The other hand reached up and over the first and she pulled herself over the ledge of the rock, groaning in pain as she dragged her body over the jagged lip. Anna stood and peered over the edge into the ravine. Remington moved slowly, his long rifle pointing in all directions in search of a target. He did not see Anna for his focus was on the bottom of the ravine. He moved past the granite wall and pointed his rifle into the crack in the stone. Anna loaded an arrow into the bow. Taking aim, she released the bowstring and the arrow shot into the ravine. The arrow bounced off the rocky ground and snapped in half. She had missed. Remington spun in the direction of the sound and fired two shots, the blasts echoing up the ravine walls. Anna loaded another arrow and took aim. Warning shouts rang out from across the ravine and Remington spun and twisted out of the line of fire. The arrow missed its target. Remington pointed his weapon at Anna atop the rock and fired two more shots. Anna dove to the ground, chunks of granite exploding and ricocheting off her face. Anna roared in frustration and scrambled away from the ledge. She was out of sight but Remington continued firing, bullets pinging off the rock and flying stray. Anna jumped to her feet and ran. This had been her best and last chance to kill Remington since dawn had won the upper hand over the protective night. She sprinted for the tree line beyond the rocks, looking to escape into dense brush. But the trees stood wide and open, offering little cover. Anna ran in panic. Shouts rang up the ravine. The hunter and his trackers scrambled up the incline in pursuit.