This time he took more time. Allowing his breathing to slow, allowing the rise and fall of his chest to become a metronome as he watched the helicopter climb straight up in the sky. He paced the vehicle’s rate of ascension and fired again.
This time he hit his mark, his bullet snapping the bolt in half. The rear rotor flew off, skidding onto the helipad then resting still on the ground, with any luck undamaged and useable again.
The helicopter veered, turning hard to the right to begin tighter and tighter circles.
“Why aren’t they landing?” Davidson asked as he ducked as the helicopter careened overhead. Lopez, this remote pilot was not.
“Because they’ve got someone not very experienced, he is actually trying to fly the chopper without the rear rotor!” Stark announced.
The helicopter flew overhead, pushing out further to the cliff. It was not over the water.
Whoever was at the controls was panicking, veering the chopper right then left, trying to get the vehicle out of the death spiral it was in now.
That wasn’t going to happen. Not with a missing rear rotor.
Then it veered too far left, crashing into the cliff, snapping off its main rotor then crashing into the sea. It made one large burp as the air escaped the cockpit, then it was gone, under the gently rolling sea.
Davidson stood there stunned. There went their ride. That quickly.
“Well?” Lopez asked. “We are double timing it out of here. What’s going on?”
“We lost it,” Davidson reported.
“What do you mean? Lost it on radar?”
Davidson cleared his throat. “Um, no, we lost it to the sea…”
There was an uncomfortable silence on the line. Davidson knew how Lopez loved his toys. He named each and every one of them even if they just flew a single mission in them. This one had been Genevieve. So to Lopez they hadn’t lost a chopper, they’d lost Genevieve. They would have a small memorial once they got back to base.
“Boat should be in sight range,” Stark reported.
Davidson sprinted over to his trees and climbed up into his perch again. He raised the rifle to his eye and searched the waters. Sure enough, far out at the edge of his vision was a boat hurling their way.
“With the chopper gone,” Lopez stated with a little bitterness in his tone. “You know what you need to do Davidson.”
That he did. They needed that boat. So he had to scuttle his original plan of firing an explosive round into the fuel tank and blowing the boat sky high. Trying to neutralize everyone on board without damaging the boat was going to take far more finesse.
They were still out of range so Davidson had time to dig in. He ignored the cross talk on the com as Lopez reported their progress. The bulk of the team was going down to the shore in case the boat got past Davidson to set up an ambush at the old, thin dock.
Not that Davidson planned on missing, but always good to have a plan B.
He watched as the boat came into better view. “Stark, I’ve got a captain driving the boat and two guards on the top deck, can you tell if there are any below deck?”
“Thermal imagining isn’t looking too reliable. I believe they have lined the hold with thermal reflecting material.”
Of course they had. You had to give it to these religious fanatics. They were thorough.
“I’m going to try to take out the above deck personnel before they get too close to the island.”
“Yah,” Lopez chimed in. “Try not to blow up our only other means of getting off this island.”
Right. Got it. Lopez was not going to forgive him for Genevieve any time soon. The corporal was already attached to the incoming boat even though he hadn’t even seen it yet.
Davidson leveled his rifle and took his first shot. It flew true and the captain’s head snapped back, his hands falling from the steering wheel. The two guards dove to the controls, but the boat significantly slowed until it was dead in the water. Three other men rushed to the bridge. They all bore the same facial features along with dark hair and startling blue eyes.
It was like shooting fish in a barrel. He actually felt a little sorry for the clones. They were dropping like flies out there.
“Doesn’t this seem a little easy?” Davidson asked.
“Yah, sure,” Stark teased. “You just making eight out of eight thousand yard plus shots on a moving target. Super simple.”
“No, I’m serious,” Davidson responded. “They haven’t even returned fire.”
* * *
Stark was starting to see Davidson’s concern. Why would they bring such a fast boat with a lined cargo bay, just to surrender it without a fight?
“Blow it,” his mother shouted. “Blow it now.”
“Hang on!” Lopez weighed in over the com. “We need that boat.”
“The hold isn’t packed with men, it is packed with C-4.”
“How could you know that?” Malvern asked over the line.
“Do you really want me to explain or do you want Davidson to sink that boat filled with C-4 and then I can explain it?” Stark’s mom asked.
Apparently Malvern decided on the former. “Blow it.”
Davidson seemed more than happy to oblige. There was a slight delay then the sound of shot after shot came over his mic. Stark switched focus to the boat, watching it via satellite. Davidson’s shots were peppering the frame of the boat, but so far hadn’t hit the fuel tank.
“So how did you know?” Stark asked his mother.
“A girl shouldn’t kiss and tell,” his mother smirked back at him.
“No, seriously, how did you do it?”
His mother shrugged. “Just some new tech I discovered that bomb squads are starting to use. It is a combination of a laser vibrometer and a sonic beam. Every material vibrates at a slightly different frequency and allows you to determine if there are any explosives in a black box situation and even what type of explosive.”
Damn and he thought he was on the bleeding edge of tech, yet here was his mom once again showing him up. And he didn’t mind one bit.
He raised his hand up for a high five and she slapped it with gusto.
Bunny was going to have a hard time living up to his mom, that was for sure.
* * *
There was no doubt that Davidson had finally hit the fuel tank on the boat. A huge bright red and orange explosion dominated the southern horizon.
“Well, there goes our other ride,” Lopez sighed. “You don’t think these scholars have some kind of speed boat do you?”
Bunny lifted an eyebrow. “I seriously doubt it. They don’t even have hot water for God’s sake.”
Malvern frowned. “Stark? Anything we can use in the area?”
“We’ve got a Eurochopper Hermes that’s being used by a CIA front in Cyprus,” Stark reported.
Lopez nodded vigorously up and down, then started clapping his hands together. “Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes,” the corporal begged.
“And what’s so special about this Hermes?”
“Um, only 178 miles per hour with leather seats, I mean it was voted best overall helicopter in the world, two years running.”
While Malvern rolled his eyes he did give Stark instructions. “Go ahead and try to get it out here as soon as possible.”
“On it,” Stark reported then went silent.
Bunny scanned her team. No one seemed plussed. Missions went sideways all the time and this was one of their minor diversions. Plus Lopez apparently was going to get to fly one of the most advanced helicopters on the planet so for him it was a total win.
Still that boat haunted bunny. In Africa the Righteous had shone themselves well funded and disciplined. Then a crappy, amateurish run with a speed boat. Really? That didn’t feel uber clone, cold suit, stealth chopper sophisticated.
But the team’s helicopter was gone as was the boat. So here they sat on a brilliant non-sullied beach. Not a bad way to spend the late afternoon.
She kicked off her boots and squeezed her toes in the sand
. It took her back to her college days. Spring break to be exact. Okay, so maybe the memories weren’t exactly clear, there had been a lot of tequila involved, but she could remember the warm sand between her toes. Back then life had seemed so simple. Study hard, get good grades and life was your oyster.
And she had plenty of pearls to show for it.
Then Paris happened and her eyes were opened to a whole new world of danger and consequences. The worst that had happened to Bunny before Paris had been a D on an advanced calculus test. A wrong move here could not only get you killed but your entire party dead.
“Stark, I’m not feeling so great about that boat,” Bunny stated.
“I second that,” Davidson said. “It was way too easy.”
* * *
Stark wasn’t surprised that Davidson thought it was easy, but Bunny too? She truly had matured into a great field operative.
“So far all scans show the coast is clear,” Stark explained, “There are a few dolphins nearby, but that’s it, however I will keep a look out.”
“Thank you,” Bunny said.
“The CIA wants us to remind Lopez that the helicopter they are borrowing cost them over six million dollars.”
Stark turned on the com to Lopez’s team. “The CIA wants you to promise to take good care of their expensive helicopter.”
“When don’t I?”
Even Stark’s mother laughed at that one. They had given up counting how much damage Lopez had done to the variety of vehicles he’d piloted. They just stopped counting at a hundred million.
“Chopper will be in bound in thirty seven minutes,” his mother stated.
“What are they even hitting the accelerator?” Lopez demanded.
Stark’s mother just shook her head. No need to give the corporal any fodder.
“Stark?” Bunny’s voice came over the com. Each time it made his heart race just a bit.
He wanted to say, “Yes, my love,” but knew he’d probably get a punch from his mother for that. Instead he answered, “At your service.”
“Any luck on figuring out what the Righteous are doing in India?”
“Sorry, I’ve data mined every known search engine and come up with nothing besides one vague account that Christ may have traveled through India on his way to Tibet, but all of that is circumspect.”
Bunny sighed on the other side of the line. “I figured as much.”
CHAPTER 14
Bunny hated to admit it, but she needed help. “Stark, can you get me an outside secured line?”
“Sure, where to?”
“Rebecca.”
There was a slight pause before Stark responded. “Rebecca, are you sure? I thought she gave strict instructions not to be disturbed.”
“She’ll take this call,” Bunny reassured him.
Stark didn’t argue further as she heard the dial tone on the line and him dialing Rebecca’s number. It rang three times before it was picked up.
“You better be coming home with Kasa’s favorite crackers,” Rebecca answered, clearly thinking it was Brandt on the line. A toddler’s piercing scream followed.
“Sorry, Rebecca, it’s Bunny.”
“This had better be good. Kasa’s on some kind of crazy teething phase and I’m eight months pregnant and feel like an elephant so make it snappy.”
“Okay, there is the Righteous and they want to --”
“Destroy the world, yada, yada, yada, Just get to the part where you need my help.”
Bunny was about to, however Kasa’s wailing cry prevented any and all conversation for a full thirty seconds.
Finally the child had to take a breath.
“Christ and India, what is the connection besides his possibly traveling there en route to Tibet?”
“Seriously, this is what you are bugging me with? Really, Bunny I expected better of you.”
Bunny could feel her cheeks blushing. Rebecca had learned a thing or two from Lochum. “I know, I feel like the answer is right at my finger tips. We scoured the internet, but no luck”
“Because you were looking for Christ and India instead of St. Issa.”
Bunny hit herself, literally hit herself on the forehead. Of course. St. Issa. Rebecca was right, she should have been embarrassed for not making the connection.
“Gonna fill us in?” Lopez asked Bunny.
“Not until we hang up,” Rebecca stated. “We good or do I need to review the legends with you?”
Just as Kasa started screaming again, Bunny reassured Rebecca. “No, no, I’m good.”
The line clicked off faster than on a telemarketer.
Bunny turned to the men. Malvern had taken a step closer to her. So close that she could faintly smell his aftershave. It was a combination of compassion and musk. The perfect blend.
“Okay, there is a legend of St. Issa, whom many scholars believe might actually be the story of Christ’s travel in India.”
“Others doubt the veracity of those claims because other scholars believe that the young Christ was in Egypt at the time of Issa,” Davidson explained completely accurate. Being educated in a religious sect did have its advantages.
“Correct, however Issa correlates much better with the Righteous’ action. There is a small church in the Kashmir region that has many artifacts from Issa and is rumored to have a hidden room with more.”
“Okay, so if I were a religious fanatic, I’d probably go to Kashmir,” Lopez said, nodding. “Stark, you on it?”
The techie didn’t even hesitate, clearly knowing what Lopez wanted. “Tasking.
Stark was really letting his geek flag fly.
“Not only do I have the coordinates, but I’ve uploaded them to the Hermes helicopter coming your way. But since it is a combat zone, you are going to have to fly low, under the radar threshold.”
“And the CIA would like to remind you that the Hermes is a luxury helicopter, not meant for combat,” Stark’s mother added.
“Yah, I got it, I got it,” Lopez complained. “Don’t scratch the Agency’s bird. I heard you already.”
“But did you understand me?”
Only Stark’s mom could get away with that. Lopez just chuckled. “Yes, for the love of all that is holy, yes.”
The line clicked off.
So there it was. All nicely wrapped up in a bow.
“Something still bothering you?” Malvern asked her.
“Nothing I can put my finger on,” Bunny admitted.
“Well, then why don’t you enjoy the afternoon,” the colonel stated, taking off his jacket and laying it on the sand. “You deserve a break.”
Bunny wasn’t about to argue with the man.
* * *
Davidson scanned the skies to the east again. He’d sighted the helicopter several minutes ago and reported it to Lopez. Davidson could feel the corporal’s excitement through the com. The guy was practically vibrating at a rate you could hear.
“Seriously is it a grandmother driving the thing?” Lopez bemoaned.
To Davidson and any other rational person that helicopter was hauling ass in their direction, in a perfectly straight line. Whoever was flying that thing was a pro.
Not according to Lopez however.
But Davidson knew otherwise. The pilot was ex-Air Force with an exemplary record. He had been recruited by the agency right after his tours in Afghanistan were over. He had been flying a spoiled prince around for a few months. The prince had been cut off from his family fortune after getting a white girl pregnant. The perfect target for a CIA asset.
The agency had set the prince up with his usual lifestyle in exchange for any information he might hear.
Hence the super expensive helicopter. From the outside it didn’t look like much, but from Lopez’s gushing, the internal and the engine were primo.
Davidson pulled his gaze away from the approaching helo and made another sweep.
While the others had been lounging on the beach, Davidson had kept himself razor focused. He wasn’t jea
lous though. He had chosen this life. Once he had been free of the Knot, he could have done anything he wished, yet he’d come back to his rifle.
He loved sitting in the high seat. Taking up the God position. There was no rest once in your perch, however. You were there to protect everyone below you. He took that responsibility very seriously.
Hence the constant sweeps. Water level, mid-air level, Terrestrial. Above. Below. Everywhere. The others could relax because he was making certain even this beguiling island was safe from attack.
“Chopper’s ETA six minutes,” Stark’s mother announced.
Stark and his mother had been equally vigilant. After the boat attack, they had pinged that chopper with everything to make sure it was exactly what it said it was.
So far it appeared there was just one person on the helo, and that was the pilot who had checked out. Everything seemed above board. As much as it could on any black ops mission.
“Five minutes,” Stark’s mother informed them.
Then a bright flash came from the water and a missile broke the surface. Davidson tried to get off a shot to detonate the missile before impact, but he just hadn’t been as fast off the draw as he would like.
The missile hit the helicopter right behind the pilot’s seat. The expensive vessel shattered into a thousand pieces. There wasn’t even a body left of the pilot.
“No!” Lopez anguished like a little boy who’d had Christmas ripped from the calendar.
Davidson tore his eyes away from the carnage and aimed at the area where the missile had come from.
“What the hell was that?” Prenner demanded.
Davidson didn’t have time to explain. There was a submersible somewhere under there. He tried to imagine how large it would be if it had been stored in the boat. Not very large then. The thing could have turned in any direction.
He was just going to have to make his best guess. Davidson aimed where he thought the submersible was and fired. No obvious result.
“Stark, talk to me,” Davidson asked as he switched spectrums on his scope. Whatever was under that water was extremely sophisticated. It wasn’t blooming with any heat, clearly had avoided radar and surface scans.
“I am so sorry,” Stark said. “I’ve got nothing.”
Bull's Eye Sniper Chronicles Collection (The Second Cycle of the Betrayed Series) Page 17