Trevor Barnaby was a tall, solid man, fifty-six years old, with a fully shaven head and a pointed black goatee. He stared out through the windshield of his hovercraft with cold, hard eyes.
"You're running, Scarecrow," he said aloud. "My, my, you are a clever one."
"They're heading east, sir," a young SAS corporal manning the radio console next to Barnaby said. "Out along the coast"
"Send eight crafts after them," Barnaby commanded. "Kill them. Everyone else is to proceed to the station as planned."
"Yes, sir."
The speedometer on Schofield's hovercraft edged over eighty miles per hour. Snow pounded against the windshield.
"Sir, they're coming!" Rebound's voice shouted over Schofield's helmet intercom.
Schofield's head snapped right and he saw them.
Several British hovercrafts had broken away from the main group and were heading toward the three escaping American hovercrafts.
"The others are going for the station," Book's voice said.
"I know," Schofield said. "I know."
Schofield whirled around in the driver's seat. He saw Renshaw standing in the back section of the cabin, looking slightly ridiculous in Mitch Healy's oversized Marine helmet.
"Mr. Renshaw," Schofield said.
"Yes."
"Time to make yourself useful. See if you can open that trunk on the floor there."
Renshaw immediately dropped to his knees and flipped the latches on the black Samsonite trunk that lay on the floor in front of him.
Schofield drove, turning around every few seconds to see how Renshaw was faring with the trunk.
"Oh, shit," Renshaw said as he opened the trunk and saw what lay inside it.
At that moment, there came a sudden booming sound from outside and Schofield snapped around again.
He knew that sound....
And then he saw it.
"Oh, no...," he groaned.
The first missile slammed into the snow-covered ground right in front of Schofield's speeding hovercraft.
It left a crater ten feet in diameter, and a split second later Schofield's hovercraft screamed over the edge of the crater, exploding through the dust cloud above it.
"Incoming!" Rebound's voice yelled.
"Get inland!" Schofleld called back as he caught sight of the cliff edge about a hundred yards to his left. "Get away from the edge!"
Schofield's head snapped around again as he spoke. He saw the cluster of British hovercrafts behind him.
He also saw the second missile.
It was white and round, cylindrical, and it cut through the driving snow in front of the lead British hovercraft, its spiraling smoke trail looping through the air behind it. A Milan antitank missile.
Renshaw saw it, too. "Yikes!"
Schofield floored it.
But the missile was closing in too quickly. It angled in toward his speeding hovercraft, fast.
Too fast.
And then suddenly, at the last moment, Schofield yanked hard on the steering yoke of his hovercraft and the whole craft swerved dramatically to the left, toward the cliff edge.
The missile shot across the bow of the speeding hovercraft and Schofield instinctively swerved back right and the missile slammed into the snow off to his left, exploding in a spectacular shower of white.
Schofield immediately swung back left, just as a second missile slammed into the snow-covered earth right next to him.
"Keep swerving!" he yelled into his helmet mike. "Don't let them get a lock on you!"
The three American hovercrafts all began to swerve as one as they rocketed across the flat Antarctic landscape, the hailstorm of unguided British missiles slamming down into the snow all around them. Deafening explosions filled the air. Massive gouts of snow and earth erupted from the ground.
Schofield fought desperately with the steering yoke of his hovercraft. The hovercraft screamed across the ice plain, a juggernaut out of control, ducking and swerving as it avoided the missiles that rained down all around it.
"The trunk!" Schofield yelled to Renshaw. "The trunk!"
"Right!" Renshaw said. He lifted a compact black tube out of the Samsonite trunk. It was about five feet long.
"All right," Schofield said as he yanked hard on the steering yoke to avoid another screaming British missile. The hovercraft rocked sharply as it swung hard to the right. Renshaw lost his balance and fell against the wall of the cabin.
"Lock the tube onto the gripstock!" Schofield yelled.
Renshaw found the gripstock in the trunk. It looked like a gun without a barrel?just the grip and the trigger and a stock that you rested on your shoulder. The compact cylindrical tube clicked firmly into place on the top of the gripstock.
"All right, Mr. Renshaw. You just made yourself a Stinger missile launcher! Now use it!"
"How?"
"Open the door! Put it on your shoulder! Point it at the bad guys, and when you hear the tone, pull the trigger! It'll do the rest!"
"OK...," Renshaw said doubtfully.
Renshaw yanked open the right-hand sliding door of the hovercraft. Screaming Antarctic wind instantly invaded the interior of the craft. Renshaw struggled against it, forced his way toward the open door.
He rested the Stinger on his shoulder, shuffled it so that his eyes settled into its sights. Through the night-sights, he saw the lead British hovercraft from head-on, caught between a pair of crosshairs. The British hovercraft glowed green?
And then suddenly Renshaw heard a dull buzzing sound.
"I hear the tone!" he yelled excitedly.
"Then pull the trigger!" Schofield called back.
Renshaw pulled the trigger.
The recoil of the Stinger sent Renshaw flying back onto the floor of the cabin.
The missile shot forward from its launcher. The back-blast?the sudden explosive burst of fire that shoots out the back of a rocket launcher when it is fired?shattered the windows behind Renshaw.
Schofield watched as the Stinger spiraled through the air toward the lead British hovercraft. Its smoke trail looped gracefully through the air behind it, revealing its flight path.
"Good night," Schofield said.
The Stinger slammed into the lead British hovercraft and the hovercraft exploded instantly, shattered into a thousand pieces.
The other British hovercrafts continued relentlessly forward, ignoring their fallen comrade. One of the rear ones just shot straight through the burning remains of the exploded lead hovercraft.
"Good shot, Mr. Renshaw!" Schofield said.
In the cabin behind Schofield, Renshaw awkwardly got to his feet. Once he had regained his balance, he looked out through the side door of the hovercraft and saw the fiery remains of the British hovercraft he had destroyed.
"Yikes," he said softly.
The seven remaining British hovercrafts closed in.
"Book!" Rebound's voice yelled. "I need help over here!"
"Hang on! I'm coming over!" Book yelled as he yanked on the steering yoke of his LCAC.
Book's hovercraft swung right?around and behind Rebound's transport?and slammed hard into the side of the first British hovercraft. Both crafts bounced wildly off each other as they careered across the ice plain.
Book pushed open one of his side windows with the barrel of his MP-5 and was about to fire on the black hovercraft racing alongside him when suddenly it filled with light and every one of its reinforced glass windows shattered as one and blew out of their frames.
Book watched in amazement as the British hovercraft exploded into flames and fell away behind him. Then he looked over his shoulder and saw Schofield's orange hovercraft sweep around behind him. The smoke trail of a Stinger still lingered in the air in front of it.
"Thanks, Scare?"
"Book! Watch your left!" Schofield's voice shouted.
The impact knocked Book sideways through the air and the world tilted crazily as his hovercraft was lifted off the ground by the stunning impact, and then
suddenly?whump? the big hovercraft thudded back down to earth without any loss of speed.
Book was totally disoriented. He was trying to climb back into the driver's seat when another smashing impact rocked his hovercraft again, this time from the right.
"Scarecrow!" he yelled. "?I'm in a lot of trouble here!"
"I see you, Book! I see you! I'm coming!" Schofield peered out through the snow-streaked windshield of his own speeding hovercraft.
He saw Book's hovercraft, racing forward across the ice plain in front of him. On each side of it was a black British hovercraft, taking turns ramming it hard.
"Renshaw! How's that new Stinger coming?"
"Almost there ...," Renshaw said from behind him. He was furiously trying to jam a new tube into the gripstock.
"Hold on, Book!" Schofield said.
Schofield gunned the engine of his LCAC and the hovercraft responded by increasing its speed. Gradually, it began to haul in the three hovercrafts in front of it?Book's and the two British ones.
Slowly, gradually, Schofield's orange hovercraft overtook the three hovercrafts on the left-hand side and then suddenly, swiftly, it swept across in front of them.
Schofield looked back through his rear windshield, through the blur of his rear turbofan and saw the three hovercrafts behind him. He then snapped to look forward and saw Rebound's transport hovercraft racing across the ice plain about twenty yards to his left.
"Rebound!" he said.
"Yeah!"
"Get ready to go in and grab Book!"
"What?"
"Just get ready!"
"What are you gonna do?"
"A slingshot," Schofield said as he drew his MP-5. He turned to Renshaw. "Mr. Renshaw ..."
"What?"
"Hold on."
And with that, Schofield slipped the hovercraft into neutral and yanked the steering yoke hard to the right.
Like a bizarre two-ton ballet dancer, Schofield's hovercraft did a complete lateral 180-degree spin right in front of Book's hovercraft and the two British hovercrafts.
In the cabin, Schofield quickly jammed the big vehicle into reverse and engaged the turbofan again.
Now he was travelling backward!
At eighty miles per hour.
In front of Book and the two British hovercrafts!
Schofield thrust his MP-5 out through the driver's side window and let rip with an extended burst of gunfire.
The front windshield of the left-hand British hovercraft exploded with bullet holes. Schofield could see the men behind the windshield convulse as they were hit by the barrage of gunfire.
The shot British hovercraft immediately peeled away from Book's hovercraft and faded back into the distance.
Book was still in hell.
The British hovercraft to his left was gone now, but the one on his right was ramming him with renewed intensity.
The two hovercrafts careered across the flat expanse of ice, side by side, their engines roaring.
And then suddenly Book saw the side door of the British hovercraft open. A thick black gun barrel protruded from it.
"Oh, shit" Book said.
A puff of smoke appeared from the end of the gun barrel? it was an M-60 grenade launcher?and a second later the whole side door of Book's hovercraft suddenly exploded inward.
Wind rushed into the cabin.
They'd blown open the side of his hovercraft!
At that moment, a small black object flew in through the hole in the side of the hovercraft and clattered across the floor of the cabin.
Book saw it immediately.
It was a small black cylindrical object with blue numbers written along its side. As it rolled across the floor of the cabin, it looked like an ordinary grenade, but as Book knew, it was a whole lot more than that.
It was a nitrogen charge.
The signature weapon of the SAS.
The most advanced grenade in the world. It even had a tamper mechanism so that you couldn't pick it up and throw it back at the person who threw it at you. Standard time delay: five seconds.
Get out of the hovercraft! Book's mind screamed.
Book dived for the left-hand side of the cabin?the side furthest away from the British hovercraft?and reached for the door. He slid it open fast.
Five...
Freezing Antarctic wind rushed at his face. Slicing horizontal snow lashed his eyes. Book didn't care. Snow wouldn't kill him, and a fall from the hovercraft might. But the nitrogen charge definitely would.
Four... three...
Book dived out into the freezing wind and immediately jammed the sliding door shut behind him. He lay flat against the top of the black rubber skirt that ran around the base of the speeding hovercraft. His face was pressed awkwardly up against the outside of the windows of the cabin. The screaming, speeding wind assaulted his ears.
Two... one...
Book prayed to God that the reinforced Lexan glass windows of the hovercraft could withstand the?
The nitrogen charge went off inside the hovercraft.
Smack!
A wave of ice blue liquid nitrogen slapped hard against the glass right in front of Book's face. Book instinctively jerked his head back.
He stared in amazement at the interior of the hovercraft's cabin. Supercooled liquid nitrogen had splattered itself against every exposed surface inside the cabin.
Every exposed surface.
The whole of the inside of the window in front of him was dripping with gooey blue poxy. Book sighed with relief. The reinforced glass had held, just.
And then suddenly ... craaaaack?!
Book pulled his head back just as the window?snap-frozen by the liquid nitrogen and contracting rapidly?broke out into a thousand spiderwebs.
"Book!"
Book spun and saw Rebound's hovercraft pull up alongside his own. He could see Rebound through the windscreen, sitting in the driver's seat.
"Get on!"
Rebound's hovercraft nudged closer to Book's. The side door of Rebound's hovercraft slid open. The rubber skirts of the two hovercrafts touched briefly, then parted again.
"Jump!" Rebound said, his voice loud in Book's earpiece.
Book tried to get to his feet.
"Come on!" Rebound said urgently.
Book tried to keep his eyes focused on the black rubber skirt of Rebound's hovercraft. Tried not to look at the white streaks of snow racing by at eighty miles an hour beneath the two speeding hovercrafts.
And then out of the corner of his eye, he saw it.
Saw the black hovercraft materialize in the background behind Rebound's hovercraft.
Suddenly Book heard Rebound yell, "Get there, Scarecrow!" and then he saw the side door of the British hovercraft open. Saw the Milan antitank missile launcher appear inside it.
And then Book saw the familiar puff of smoke and he saw the missile shoot out of its launcher and fly through the air toward him, its looping white smoke trail spiraling crazily behind it, and in that instant, in that moment, Book knew it was too?
"Book! For God's sake, jump! Jump now! Shit!"
Book jumped.
Book flew through the air.
As he flew, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the British hovercraft explode as it was hit by an American Stinger. But it had got its own missile off before it had been hit. Book saw the white-tipped missile roll through the air toward him.
And then suddenly his hands came down hard on the black rubber skirt of Rebound's hovercraft and he forgot about the British missile as he scratched desperately for a handhold.
Just as his feet were about to hit the speeding ground, Book got a grip on a tie-down stud on the skirt of Rebound's hovercraft and he looked up just in time to see the British missile slam into the rear of his recently abandoned hovercraft and blow it to smithereens.
"Have you got him?" Schofield said into his helmet mike.
Schofield was still racing along in front of Rebound's hovercraft?still travelling backward. He could
see Rebound's transport speeding across the ice plain behind him.
"We got him," Rebound replied. "He's inside."
"Good," Schofield said.
It was then that Schofield heard the gunfire.
His head immediately snapped left and he saw them.
It was the same British hovercraft that had blasted open the side of Book's hovercraft. Only now it had a fearsome-looking general-purpose machine gun?or "Gimpy" as it is known?sticking out of its open side door. The large heavy-duty machine gun was mounted on a tripod, and Schofield saw a three-foot tongue of fire flare out from its barrel as it emitted a deafening ungodly roar.
Rebound's hovercraft took the brunt of the machine gun's fury. Sparks and bullet holes and cracks and puncture marks burst out all over it.
A thin line of black smoke began to rise up from the rear of Rebound's hovercraft. The hovercraft visibly began to slow.
"Scarecrow!" Rebound yelled. "We've got a serious problem here!"
"I'm coming!" Schofield said.
"I'm hit bad and slowing down! I need to off-load some weight so I can maintain my speed!"
Schofield was thinking fast. He was still traveling backward across the ice plain. Rebound's hovercraft was off to his right, the British hovercraft off to his left.
At last, Schofield said, "Mr. Renshaw ..."
"What?"
"Take the wheel."
"What?" Renshaw said.
"It's just like driving a car, only with a little less responsiveness," Schofield said.
Renshaw stepped into the driver's seat, took hold of the steering yoke.
"Now, shut your eyes," Schofield said.
"Huh?"
"Just do it," Schofield said as he calmly raised his MP-5 ...
... and blasted the forward windshield of his own hovercraft!
Renshaw covered his eyes as shards of glass exploded out all around him. When he opened his eyes again he had a completely clear view of the two hovercrafts speeding along the ice plain "behind" him.
"OK," Schofield said, "pull us over in front of the black one."
Renshaw gently applied pressure to the steering yoke. The hovercraft slid smoothly over to the left, so that it was in front of the black British hovercraft that was blasting away at Rebound's hovercraft.
Ice Station ss-1 Page 26