Kendrick swung his gun arm around in a defensive move, the pistol catching Mitchell across the cheek. The force of the blow toppled her to her knees, Kendrick bringing his pistol round to fire. Bolan had taken a double-handed grip on Hatch’s weapon, tearing it from the man’s hands, and he twisted around as Kendrick leveled his weapon on Mitchell. If he had thought about it, Bolan might have held back from firing the autoweapon within the confines of the plane, but his overriding concern was to stop Kendrick from firing. Bolan squeezed back on the trigger and felt the MP-5 vibrate as it unleashed a stream of 9 mm slugs. The range was close. Kendrick was kicked back as the slugs tore into and through his body. The tail end of Bolan’s burst smashed into the plane’s instrument panel.
Kendrick fell back inside the cockpit, slamming hard to the deck, and as he landed with his arms thrown over his head, the pistol in his hand fired off a single shot.
The wayward slug hammered into the back of the pilot’s head, taking away a chunk of bone and emerged out the top of the man’s skull. The pilot arched his body, toppling forward. His weight slammed against the controls and the plane fell into a steep dive.
Bolan went backward as the deck canted underfoot. He saw Hatch, blood streaming down his face, reaching for the pistol jammed behind his belt. As the bulkhead brought his backward tumble to a stop, Bolan swept the MP-5 around and hit Hatch with a ragged burst. Hatch screamed as the slugs cored into his body. He twisted half around and went down.
Bolan dropped the MP-5 and turned, stepping over Kendrick’s bloody corpse and dragged himself into the copilot’s seat. Once again he was grateful for the lessons Jack Grimaldi gave him when they had some downtime, but he had never practiced coming out of a death dive. He leaned across and hauled the dead pilot away from the controls. He slid onto the seat. With the pilot’s weight clear of the controls Bolan was able to grasp the yoke on his side of the cockpit.
The downward spiral of the aircraft threatened to resist Bolan’s attempts to regain control. He could feel the pressure and ignored the urge to quit. The aircraft seemed determined to continue its dive. Bolan maintained his grip on the yoke and gradually the nose began to lift. As the aircraft pulled out of the dive, he brought it back onto an even course and felt the flight level out. The howl of the engines subsided.
Behind Bolan, where she was leaning against the back of the seat, Mitchell said, “That’s something I could have done without.” She looked out the port cockpit window at the damaged engine. The oil spillage had become a ragged stream of black smoke. “And that doesn’t look too promising.”
Bolan checked out the smoke. He could hear the ragged beat of the damaged engine.
“Cooper, tell me you can handle this.”
“I don’t get the chance to fly very often. Especially not in one of these babies.”
“Hey, don’t spoil the illusion by telling me that. I take it you can land this thing.”
“What if I tell you no, I can’t?”
“Do not even go there, Cooper. My quota for so many surprises in a day is running close to the line.”
“The day isn’t over yet.
“Great. What else can go wrong?
“We could run out of fuel.”
“Being on a date with you is such a blast.”
Mitchell edged around so Bolan could work the tape free from her wrists. She rubbed the chafed flesh, watching the increasingly thick smoke streaming from the engine. Blood had run down the side of her face from the where Kendrick had hit her.
With the port power reducing, Bolan was having to compensate for the way the DC3 was trying to veer off course.
“Go check in the back. Pick up our belongings. And check for any parachutes.”
Mitchell gave him a questioning look that told him that suggestion was something she did not want to hear, then left the cockpit.
Bolan took a look out the front and side windows. He was flying by instinct, with no instrumentation to inform him exactly where they were, or even their height. Bolan was flying blind for want of a better description.
He figured the plane was at around four thousand feet. Below them lay unbroken forest with occasional pale patches he figured might be water. Above them the sky was clear, showing a few banks of cloud.
The trail of smoke from the port engine caught Bolan’s attention again. He saw brief flickers of flame in the dense smoke.
That, he thought, was all he needed.
“Cooper, good news and bad news,” Mitchell said as she returned to the cockpit. “I found our ordnance and the satchel of diamonds. Your sat phone was in the bag.” She handed it to him.
“You mentioned bad news,” he said.
Mitchell had leaned forward, staring out the side window at the smoking engine. It was making unhealthy sounds now, and the amount of smoke had increased. More flames began to show inside the smoke.
“Tell me that’s normal,” she said.
“No. That’s my bad news.”
“What is it with you and problems, Cooper?”
“Anyone can have a quiet flight.”
Mitchell cleared her throat and looked away from the engine. “Okay. So here’s my bad news. I found a parachute. But just the one.”
Bolan absorbed the information and made a swift decision.
He took the Glock Mitchell passed to him and holstered it. Braced against the copilot seat, Mitchell slid her own pistol into her holster, securing the quick-release strap.
She stared out the window for a few seconds, then took a breath.
“We’re going to jump, aren’t we?”
Bolan nodded.
“Just great. I’ve been shot at, abducted, stuck on a plane with a burning engine and now you want me to jump. I’ve never done that before. Is it always like this for you, Cooper?”
“There are days like this.”
“Just my luck to choose one of them.”
“Sling that satchel around your neck and make sure it’s secure.”
“Oh, sure, let’s not lose the diamonds. We’re going to die, but we’ll have diamonds.”
“Mitchell, we’re not going to die. And I don’t intend those diamonds falling back into Hegre’s hands.”
Bolan pushed up out of the seat and took the parachute pack from her hand. He swung it into place, securing the harness with practiced ease. He returned to his seat and steadied the aircraft again.
“Go find the exit door and wait for me there. When I get there you grab hold of me. Use the harness straps to hold on and wrap your legs around me real hard.”
“Cooper, who says I’m that kind of girl? We don’t know each other all that well. Even though we’ve shared beds a couple of times.”
Her attempt at humor fell a little short this time. She was scared and Bolan understood why. Leaping out of a burning aircraft and depending on the security of a single parachute was not the most inspiring way to exit.
“Go,” Bolan said.
He watched her as she left the cockpit and made her way along the plane.
“Ready,” she called above the increasingly ragged pound of the damaged engine. Then added, “Ready as I’m ever going to be.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The smoke was increasing. So were the flames. Bolan’s grip on the yoke tightened. It was becoming harder to maintain any kind of steady flight. He pushed the throttle levers hard forward, hearing the increasing whine from the clean engine. The whole body of the aircraft was shuddering.
Bolan left the seat, crossed the cockpit and moved quickly along the cargo area. Mitchell was pressed against the side of the fuselage, waiting for him. As Bolan reached her, he felt the plane sideslip. The nose began to drop, the aircraft starting to veer off course. He knew they needed to get out fast, before it became impossible to make a clear exit.
They had no time for debate. Staying where they were was not an option.
“Now,” he snapped and saw the bright shine of fear in her eyes. Her face was white, drained of blood. She reached out and slid her hands through the straps across his chest, gripping tightly. Her head pressed into his shoulder and she swung her long legs up, curling them around his taut body at waist height.
Bolan grabbed the door’s release handle and activated it. As the slipstream caught the edge of the door it was dragged free, swinging back against the exterior fuselage. Bolan felt the powerful drag of air tearing at them. He didn’t fight it, simply let his body fall free.
The slipstream caught them and hurled them around like leaves in a high wind. They were flung clear of the plane, bodies helpless as they fell, turning over and over. The wind tore at them. Bolan heard Mitchell’s scream of pure terror as they fell. He concentrated on remaining clear of the plane as it wheeled over, free from any control, and for a moment he sensed its bulk swinging overhead.
Bolan wrapped his left arm around Mitchell’s slim body, hugging her tighter as his right hand reached for and pulled the chute’s release ring. The white canopy was freed, billowing above them and blossoming as it filled out. Their descent was brought to a sudden halt, the impact jarring them in the instant before the chute dragged them yards back into the air. And then they were drifting, dropping in a steady arc, everything suddenly silent save for the soft flap of the canopy above their heads.
“Hey, you can look now,” Bolan said.
She raised her head and looked at him.
“Are we...?”
“On our way,” he said.
She chanced a look around at the open sky they were slipping through. For a moment she panicked again as she realized there was nothing between them and the ground.
“Oh my God,” she said.
She became absorbed in the moment, her gaze flicking back and forth, like a child caught in the wonder of a new sensation. Bolan had gripped her with his other arm now, keeping her close. A little of her normal character returned as she gained confidence.
“Cooper, there are some big buckles digging into me,” she said. “Well, I’m hoping that’s what it is.”
“Quick release,” Bolan said. “Vital piece of equipment.”
Her smooth cheek was pressed to his as she whispered, “I’m sure it is.”
Glancing down, Bolan saw the treetops spreading out all around them. They were dropping quickly, the extra weight bringing them in faster than normal.
“Use my chest to protect your face,” Bolan said, “and don’t let go anytime soon.”
“I wouldn’t think of it,” Mitchell began to say.
Her words were lost as they hit the upper canopy. Branches cracked, snapping under their weight. The smooth descent became a twisting, shuddering fall as they crashed through the foliage, leaves flying and branches dragging at them as they fell. There was nothing they could do to stop their fall. The spread of the parachute canopy snagged on branches, slowed the speed of their fall, but they were bruised and battered as they slipped toward the forest floor.
It all ceased with a shock as the canopy finally caught in the branches and they were brought to a hard stop, suspended by the entwined parachute, swinging back and forth. When Bolan glanced down, he saw they were no more than a few feet above the ground.
“Cooper, that was almost fun,” Mitchell said. “But let’s not do it again too soon.”
“Just when I was getting comfortable with you hanging off my neck. You can let go now, by the way.”
She glanced down, let go of him and dropped to the ground. He hit the release button and the parachute harness opened and he landed beside her.
“You want me to take that satchel?” he asked.
“That satchel and I have been together through a great deal of empty space, Cooper.” She patted the bag. “I think we’ve bonded. So hands off.”
They both heard the plane hit the ground about a quarter mile east of their position. Soon after, the black smoke rising from the wreck could be seen against the blue of the sky.
Bolan took stock of their situation. The thick spread of forest held a humid atmosphere. They began to sweat almost immediately. The forest was dense, trees and heavy vegetation combining to create a dense undergrowth.
“Air Hegre is scratched off my list,” Mitchell said. “Landing us here.”
She hunched her shoulders against the drag of the heavy satchel, wondering if she had made the right decision in keeping hold of it. Mitchell was already developing a dislike of diamonds.
Bolan took out his sat phone and checked the signal. He caught a lucky break and speed-dialed the number that would connect him to Stony Man.
“Striker?” Barbra Price’s familiar tones came through clearly. “We were starting to get worried. You guys okay?”
“Change of location,” Bolan said.
Price took the news without expressing surprise. She was used to Bolan’s swift changes of operation.
“So where are you now?”
“Somewhere in the Philippines.”
“Okay. So how can we help?”
“Get Bear to use the GPS chip to pinpoint our exact location. We need to move away from here PDQ.”
Price didn’t waste time saying goodbye. She put Bolan on a brief hold as she transferred him through to Kurtzman and the Computer Room.
“You lost again, big guy?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Bolan said.
Kurtzman laughed. “You’re lost. Don’t pretend you just took a wrong turn. Barb said you’re in the Philippines. How did that happen?”
“We had to jump out of a crippled plane. Along with a satchel full of stolen diamonds.”
Even Kurtzman had no answer to that.
“Can you locate us?”
“Doing it now. Hold on.”
“You do realize we are missing something here,” Mitchell spoke up.
“Such as?”
“Water. The way this heat is draining us of moisture we’ll be shriveled up before you can say I need aqua.”
Bolan agreed Mitchell had a point. The inhospitable climate was not going to offer them any comfort. Apart from the humidity, the air had its share of flitting insects that might start to take an interest in the humans who had dropped in so conveniently. The salty sweat they were producing would be a beacon to every flying insect within the area. The black clothing they wore might prevent too many of the insects from worrying them. Long sleeves and buttoned collars would mean only their hands and faces would be exposed.
Bolan’s sat phone emitted a sound that brought him back to Kurtzman.
“We have you on screen. You’re located in the province of Aurora, in the eastern part of Central Luzon. Heavy forest. You need to move east toward the coast and Baler the closest town. It’s twenty-eight miles away.”
“Keep tracking us,” Bolan said.
“You’ll get updates if and when. Keep your GPS on screen. I downloaded your location so the signal should keep you on track.”
“I’m hoping you’re the only one who knows our location. If we stay lucky, Hegre will figure we went down with the plane.”
“There could be some kind of tracking equipment on board. In case, as has happened, the plane went down.”
“You think so?”
“If I had a sackful of valuable diamonds being transported, I would want to know where it is.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bolan said.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jerry Clayton was the team leader. He had three men under his command, all well armed, all experienced. He had them spread out as they followed the trail of the escapees. Clayton understood his responsibilities. He answered to Lise Delaware and that added to the
gravity of the matter. Within Hegre she commanded respect and expected total obedience. The woman was hard, expected results and allowed no kind of failure. Right now Clayton understood his position.
Cooper and Agent Mitchell were targeted. Delaware wanted them captured, Cooper especially.
The tracking unit Clayton was using had picked up the signal from the small transmitter in the satchel holding the stolen diamonds. The transmitter had been planted simply as a precaution before the diamonds had arrived in Kowloon. The uncut stones were too valuable to be left unprotected. That forward thinking had proved priceless when Clayton had received a brief, panicked message from the aircraft pilot, saying that Cooper had broken free. There had been the sound of gunfire, then the radio signal had ceased.
Along with Mitchell, the man had brought down Hegre’s aircraft, killing the crew and bailing out to freedom. Clayton admired the man’s persistence, his way of engineering his escape and taking the woman with him, along with the diamonds. He respected Cooper’s ability to think on his feet, to take whatever slim chance presented itself and use that chance to pull himself clear. Clayton reminded himself to keep that in mind as he pursued his quarry. Cooper would be on alert now, ready to fight back, and he was not a man to take lightly.
The team had witnessed the plane going down some miles from the planned landing site. At first Clayton had believed Cooper and the woman had gone down with the aircraft, but his checking of the signal had shown the diamond satchel was on the move.
Clayton impressed on his team that the man they were chasing was not to be considered an easy mark. He warned them and left it at that. They were all professionals. If they hadn’t been, they would not have been working for Hegre. That said, when information was presented to them Clayton expected his people to use it. He was not in the habit of holding their hands once they were in the field.
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