by Alex Ander
He cocked an ear in the direction of the backyard.
A beat later, a distant thumping sound grew louder.
Devlin checked her timepiece. “She’s early. That’s good.”
Randall shook his head. “In this line of work, we don’t do early or late. Chase would’ve had our pilot here right on time.” He pivoted to gawk at the four duffle bags he had passed by twice now. Envisioning the four dead men in the house, he turned back toward the noise of the incoming helicopter before whipping his head toward the duffle bags. Damn it. He squared shoulders with Devlin. “Shift change.”
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
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Chapter 29
Stubborn Son-of-a—
1:25 A.M.
“What are you talking about...shift change?”
“Come on.” Randall rushed by the island again. “If my hunch is correct, there are more armed men on that chopper.” He descended into the living room, cleared the steps on the other side in one bound, and threw open the front door. “And we’re not exchanging gunfire with them if we don’t have to.”
Devlin followed him into the cold, night air, her warm breaths becoming visible.
The noise from the helicopter drew nearer.
“Call your sister and tell her the LZ is hot.”
She fished out her phone.
He glimpsed her. “That means the landing zone is—”
Waving him off, “I know what it means,” she put the device to her ear.
Randall spotted a larger-than-normal storage shed to the left before envisioning the landscape in the dead of winter. They have to have some way to get around on all this snow. I wonder if...
“Faith, it’s me. You can’t land.”
He stepped off the porch and started for the shed, stopping ten paces later when he noticed a black tarp hiding something along the side of the house. Oh, baby, please be what I, he peeled back the covering and smiled.
“Just trust me, Faith. You—”
“Tell her,” Randall yanked off the rest of the protective material, “tell her to have the pilot circle the area and wait for further instructions.”
Devlin repeated his words to Faith, clicked off, and jogged over to her teammate.
The helicopter’s blades chopped through the air, disrupting the peace and quiet.
She glanced toward the rear of the property and saw a moving beam of light shining down from the sky. Her voice went up in volume. “They’re coming in.”
“Go,” he poured Crane’s motionless frame onto a Yamaha 2-up snowmobile, “go get two belts from those dead guys.”
She ran into the cabin.
Randall inspected the machine, started the motor, and gunned it a couple times.
Panting, Devlin rushed out of the house with two belts.
He pointed at her, “Tie them together to make a long one,” then wrestled Crane into position and straddled the seat aft of the handlebars.
“Okay.” She looked toward the backyard.
Tree branches swayed.
Snow swirled around in a cloud.
The circle of light gradually expanded outward while the helicopter’s constant pounding noise blanketed the area.
“Now what?” Devlin shouted.
“Get on.” He took the long belt from her and wrapped it around Crane’s back and his own waist.
“Get on?” She scowled at the two-person snowmobile. “Get on...where?”
Randall cinched the belt, scooted forward with his unconscious passenger, and jerked a thumb at the tiny space that had emerged behind the men. “Right there.”
Devlin snorted. “That’s not enough room for me.”
“Sure, it is. You’re skinny.”
“Oh, so,” grabbing Crane for support, she whipped her right leg over the seat as if she were mounting a horse, “now you think I’m skinny. It wasn’t too long ago,” she wriggled into place and put her boots on the running boards, “you told me,” before looking down and gripping the handles at her sides, “I was fat.”
He recalled the incident from Mexico she had referenced...
Randall let out a short laugh. “Tough, devoted and selfless. Good qualities for a mother to have.”
Devlin whipped her head his way. “How’d you know I was a mother?”
He turned up a corner of his mouth. “I didn’t...until you—”
“Just,” she nodded, “confirmed it for you.”
“Also, while you’re a fit woman overall,” after glimpsing her midsection, “your little tummy bulge led me to believe,” he lifted his gaze to be greeted with a nasty if-looks-could-kill stare, “you had,” before faltering and turning away, “have...led me to believe you have a terrific figure.”
Devlin eyed the back of Randall’s head. “Do you remember that?”
He lowered his NVGs over his eyes. “How could I not? You never miss an opportunity to remind me.”
“I know how men can conveniently forget things.”
“Look at us.” He put the snowmobile in gear and eased the sled forward. “Second time out, and we’re already bickering like an old married couple.”
“So now I’m old, too?”
Keeping the headlight off and navigating via night vision goggles, he shook his head and smiled while steering toward the trees on the downward side of the mountain. “Like I keep telling you...I said it was a little tummy bulge.”
*******
TEN MINUTES LATER...
Having emerged from the trees at the base of the mountain, Randall and Devlin had gone east to get away from the more heavily populated part of the resort area.
One-point-five miles later, he stopped near the edge of a clearing and placed a call from his cell phone.
The line connected after the second ring.
“I know I said I wouldn’t get you involved, Chase, but I could really—”
“What do you need, Noah?”
“We need another extraction point. First one was compromised.”
“Where are you?”
“About two clicks east of the mountain...in a valley of sorts. The helo is still in the...” hearing a whining noise, “area,” he looked back to see lights blinking intermittently among the trees. “And it appears we have unfriendlies on our six.”
Moments passed.
Chase: “All right. If you’re where you say you are, there’s another valley a half click east and north of your position. Get there. I’ll relay the coordinates to the bird.”
“Copy that, old buddy. King out.” Randall half turned his head to see Devlin out of the corner of his eye, “Hang on,” before facing forward and punching the thumb throttle.
*******
MINUTES LATER...
Randall stopped the Yamaha, undid the belt around his waist, and let Crane topple over sideways and slam into the snow. “Let’s get him behind that shrubbery over there.”
His hands under Crane’s armpits, Randall walked backwards while Devlin held up the prisoner’s legs.
They dropped their cargo behind a large bush, and Randall broke off a low-hanging branch from a pine tree.
She glanced in the direction from which they had come. “They’ll be on us before the helicopter arrives.”
“I know. That’s why you’re,” he handed her the branch, “going to hide here while I draw them deeper into the forest.”
“What? No way. You pulled this crap in Mexico, too. We’re sticking to—”
“No time to argue, Jessica. You gave me,” he took her gloved hand and closed her fingers around the wood, “you gave me control of this op, right?”
Devlin scowled at him.
Randall noticed. “Whether or not that was a wise decision on your part,” he grinned, “no takesies-backsies now.”
“I don’t like this idea of yours.”
Beckoning her, “Follow me,” he bolted away, hopped onto the snowmobile, and pointed at the stick in her hand. “Use that on these footprints and then hide until the chopper get
s here.”
“Noah, this is nuts. You can’t—”
“Trust me, Devlin. I’ve been in a similar situation before. I’ll find a way off this hill.” He gunned the engine, “I promise,” and sped away.
“You pig-headed, stubborn son-of-a—” she finished the curse in her head while watching him pick up speed and disappear over a shallow rise. The whining noise from distant snowmobiles brought her attention back to her current task. Stooping, she backtracked while sweeping away the boot prints in the snow.
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
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Chapter 30
I’ll Find a Way
1:49 A.M.
Three snow machines had zipped by Devlin’s hideaway five minutes ago. She had thought she had seen short-barreled rifles strapped crossways over the riders’ chests. And they had seemed to be going faster than she and Randall had been going.
Now, while securing a harness around her body and under her armpits, a helicopter hovering overhead—the downdraft from its blades throwing snow and debris—she glanced at the crest she had last seen Randall traverse.
“Trust me, Devlin. I’ve been in a similar situation before. I’ll find a way off this hill.”
Devlin tugged on the rope. “And I’m,” the slack in the rope disappeared, and the harness went higher, lifting its passenger off the ground with a slight jerk, “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that happens.”
*******
Faith got two hands on her sister and pulled her into the Bell 412EP helicopter.
The hoist operator helped get the harness off the U.S. Marshal, climbed back aboard, slid the wide door shut, and radioed the pilot. “We’re clear. Take us up.”
The aircraft rose higher and banked right.
“Jess, are you all—”
“I’m fine.” Devlin scrambled to her feet and made a beeline for the cockpit.
*******
Speeding over a wide expanse of snow, a gradual upward slope on his nine o’clock, his thumb fully depressing the throttle, Randall tossed a look over his left shoulder, winced at the lead snowmobile a hundred yards back, faced forward again, and ducked down further to reduce drag. They’re gaining. They must have faster sleds.
Helicopter blades churned overhead somewhere on his four or five o’clock.
His eyes never straying from his destination—a stand of trees—he mashed his thumb harder against the throttle to no avail. Come on, baby. Give me a little—
“King, this is Raven. Do you copy?” A pause. “Over.”
He forced a grin. You’re getting the hang of this, Devlin. “Go ahead, Raven. I read you loud and clear—over.”
“You have three men on your six. And I think they have rifles.”
Randall glanced behind him.
The nearest recreational vehicle had closed to seventy-five yards.
He turned back toward the trees in time to see a hole appear on the left side of his windshield a split-second ahead of hearing the report. Instinctively, he veered right before steering left to get back on course. I believe you are quite correct.
“They’re gaining on you, King.”
“You’re two-for-two, Raven.”
“There’s a long stretch of open land on the other side of those trees. We’ll meet you there.”
Randall entered the trees. “Copy that, Raven.”
*******
“Copy,” static came through Devlin’s earpiece, “—at,” more crackling noises, “—ven.”
Bringing her MP5 in front of her body, Devlin faced the pilot and raised her voice while jabbing an index finger at the landscape below. “Get us to the clearing beyond those trees.”
“I’m not sure how close to the ground we can go, ma’am. That’s some rough terrain. Winds coming over and around those hills will make it hard to control this aircraft.”
She went prone and wound her left forearm around the weapon’s sling, “Do the best you can,” before inching forward on her elbows and getting closer to the open door.
Faith eyed her sister. “What are you doing, Jess?”
“Buying him,” she lined up the lead rider through the red dot scope, released half the breath she had taken, and let loose with a single shot, “some time.”
The bullet struck the leader’s right thigh.
Taking his right hand off the throttle to clutch the wound, he inadvertently wrenched backward on the handlebar with his other hand.
The machine lurched left, bucked its rider, rolled several times, tumbled end over end, and smashed into a pine tree.
Bits and pieces of machinery, snow, and tree limbs flew into the air.
“Dang.” Her mouth agape, Faith squinted at the wreckage. “I always knew you were a good shot, but...” her words hung in the air inside the fast-moving helicopter as it flew over the treetops.
*******
Zigging and zagging around tree trunks, Randall had not seen the crash, but had heard the uproar and knew Devlin had played a part.
Emerging from the trees, he pinned the throttle to the handlebar.
The Yamaha’s engine wailed.
Fifty yards later, he stole a glance behind him.
Two snowmobiles shot out of the forest.
He faced forward. Son-of-a-pup. They just keep coming.
Flying in the same direction as Randall was going, the helicopter raced by him.
Bullets whizzed by his ride.
Using his left hand, he drew the Walther PPQ45 from its holster on his right thigh, pivoted his upper body counterclockwise, and fired.
The lead craft slowed when projectiles ricocheted off its housing.
Randall turned back.
Its search light on, the Bell 412EP hovered five hundred yards ahead of him. Leaning out of the side door, the hoist operator worked the winch.
After giving his pursuers another backward look, and a few more rounds from his Walther, Randall headed straight for the descending harness.
*******
Devlin peered through her scope at the three snowmobiles, all of them lined-up perfectly and closing fast on her. She grimaced, “I don’t have a shot,” before facing the pilot. “Swing out.”
“Negative, ma’am. This is as close to those mountains as I dare to get.”
Hoist Operator: “That’s all the cable we have.”
Devlin looked down at the harness twenty feet from the snow. “He’ll never reach it. We have to go lower.”
Pilot: “Too much turbulence.”
She peeped through the red dot scope, Still no shot, and tapped her earbud. “King, this is Raven. Do you copy?”
No reply.
“King, if you can hear me, we can’t get any closer. The mountains are screwing with the chopper.”
*******
“Raven, bring the harness down lower.”
No reply.
“Raven, you copy?”
Nothing.
Randall surveyed the area. The winds. They can’t go any lower.
Bullets zipped by his ear and sent puffs of snow into the air ahead of him.
Hunching his shoulders to make himself a smaller target, he eyed the steady slope on his port side. If they can’t go lower, then, he turned the handlebars to the left, I’ll go higher.
*******
Devlin made a fist and pounded the aircraft’s deck. “Something’s interfering with communications. He can’t hear me.”
Faith jutted out a finger. “He’s turning, Jess. Your shooting lane just opened up.”
Devlin flicked the MP5’s selector switch to three-shot burst and acquired the first snow machine in her scope.
*******
Standing on the running boards, listing hard toward the mountain, the snowmobile following the forty-five-degree angle of the slope, Randall looked behind him at the sleds that had cut the distance to thirty yards. They’ll be on me in no time.
Snow flew up all around the machines. Sparks came from the first one’s right ski, as the sl
eds slowed their pace.
Turning and spying the Bell, now less than a hundred yards in front of him, he spotted Devlin lying on the deck, hunched over her rifle. Let ’em have it, Jessica. He noticed a mound of snow ahead with a steep incline facing him. Then, he pointed his ride toward the incline, swing on over and come get me.
*******
Running her weapon dry, Devlin pulled back the charging handle and dropped the empty magazine while scowling at Randall’s snowmobile. Her eyes going back and forth from him to the topography directly in his path, she rammed home a full magazine and released the charging handle.
Faith wrinkled her brow. “Where’s he going?”
Devlin zeroed in on a hill that looked like a ski mogul. No. She shook her head. “You can’t be serious, Noah.”
Faith faced her sibling. “Serious about what? What’s he doing?”
“Trying to break his neck.” Rolling onto her right side, Devlin motioned toward the mogul while shouting at the pilot. “Hard right. Hard right. Get over there now.”
*******
Watching the helicopter bank to its right, Randall focused on the mogul fifty yards ahead.
The Bell leveled off and hovered just beyond the mini mountain.
Ignoring the danger coming from his six o’clock—incoming fire from his hunters had resumed—Randall alternated his steely gaze between the natural ramp and the swaying harness above. He shot a quick look at his snowmobile. I hope you have the juice to do this.
The slope evened out.
Randall jammed the throttle down and lowered his butt to an inch from the seat.
The mechanical beast groaned.
Ten yards from the mound of snow, he saw clouds of the white stuff exploding from the mogul’s surface as a constant barrage of reports came from behind him.
Its skis hitting the incline, the Yahama took the rise with all the power it had to give.
Feeling the sudden change in direction, his leg muscles straining, Randall squinted at the harness.
The harness hesitated before swaying back to the left.
He aimed the Yahama further left of his dangling lifeline.
The snowmobile went airborne.
Randall pushed off from the running boards and threw up his arms.