Jerry bit his lip. “What about the helicopter that’s being loaded?”
Silence, then: “You can’t set the devices off even if you hit them—”
“What!”
“Listen. Those things are safe. They were designed to survive fires and explosions, and can’t detonate unless they go through a complicated pre-firing sequence.”
Jerry’s head ached. “I don’t know, Wendover. It sounds too easy. If those things go off, there’s enough wallop there to take out Nevada and Utah.”
“But I just told you—”
“I don’t care what you just told me. How do I know you’re right?”
The radio was silent for a moment. “Falcon One?”
Jerry came back irritably. “Yeah?”
“How about this: you take out the two choppers that aren’t carrying the devices ASAP. We’ll land and take care of the other 53 on the ground.”
Jerry mused it over. “Can you handle it?”
“Probably not. But unless you’ve got any other ideas, we’ll do it this way. And one more thing — how much fuel do you have?”
Jerry glanced at the heads-up display. His outboard tanks were nearly empty. But with his ordnance gone, he was set. “Plenty. We can loiter for another hour if we have to.”
“Good.” The voice from Wendover sounded grim. “Because if we don’t stop that chopper, you’ll have to take it out before it leaves.”
“But what about the nukes!”
“Listen, Falcon One. If that chopper gets away, we might as well hang it up. How would you like a bunch of crazies holding our nation hostage?”
Jerry nodded to himself. He clicked his microphone. “Pete?”
“Your call, lead. I’m just glad you’re in command. But that sounds damn fine to me.”
Jerry nodded. He flipped the switch arming his twin-barreled cannon; it was the only armament he had left. But as a true fighter pilot, he sincerely believed that going in for the kill with a missile — standing off twenty miles and not even seeing the enemy — was for wimps. With a gun he could smoke the SOB on his own turf.
Jerry clicked his mike. “Follow me in, wing. We’re cleared hot. I’ll go for the nearest 53 and you get the one at the far right.”
“That’s a rog, lead.”
Jerry pulled into the turn, breaking out of his bank. He screamed down to attack Alpha Base.
Colonel Renault swore at the radio. Vikki looked up from the copilot’s seat on his right.
“Do you think it will work?”
Renault tore off the headset. “I don’t think so.”
“So what do you think we should do?”
Renault stared out the cockpit. Vikki studied his face: his jawbone worked silently, as if he were grinding his teeth. He’s frustrated, she thought. And it didn’t help having Harding usurp his authority.
Renault broke her train of thought. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t like losing contact with those fighters and that other helicopter. No telling what they cooked up.”
Vikki shot a quick glance at Harding and his crew. They rolled white barrels out of the bunkers, lining them up in a queue. Only one of the helicopters had nukes in it.
“What about the rest of the nukes?”
Renault moved out of the seat. As Vikki squeezed past the seats and followed, he said, “We’ll go with what we’ve got.”
He hopped down from the chopper and strode toward Harding. Vikki stepped down and followed, jogging to catch up.
As they approached, Harding directed his crew to finish loading the helicopter. Renault’s men ringed the helicopter, weapons at ready. Thirty gleaming white barrels stood lined up in a row, waiting to be loaded on the HH-53. Two men struggled with each barrel. In the corner Lieutenant Fellows sat with his head hanging, his hands tied to his feet. Renault stepped up to Harding and spoke in a low voice.
“We’ve got to get out of here.”
Harding frowned. “We’ve barely got one helicopter loaded.” He pivoted and waved the men to step up the pace. Turning back, he said, “We need another ten minutes.”
“If we don’t leave now, there’s a chance we’ll never get out of here. I think that renegade chopper is vectoring those fighters in on us.”
Harding stopped. “You think? Didn’t you hear them?”
“No, but those fighters quizzed me, and I didn’t like their questions.”
Harding dismissed him. “Then keep watch until you know for sure.”
Renault narrowed his eyes. “Look, Dr. Harding. We don’t have time. If we take off now, we’ll have our nukes. There’s no way we’ll be able to get out of here if we hesitate—”
The helicopter behind Vikki burst into flames. The explosion knocked her to the ground. Waves of heat washed over her as a second helicopter exploded. Her ears pounded. Bullets erupted around her. Renault pushed up from the ground and started yelling to his men.
“Get on the remaining chopper—now!”
Vikki felt a hand around her waist; her hair had come undone and now flew into her eyes. Looking up through her hair, she saw Harding swim in and out of focus. She nodded dully and struggled up. Harding helped her.
As they staggered forward, the sound of an incoming helicopter pierced the air. On the other side of the bunker an HH-53 dipped to the ground and landed, not fifty yards away.
Chapter 20
Manny brought the HH-53 down in a combat landing: descend as fast as possible and pull up at the last moment, just before hitting the ground. McGriffin directed him away from the burning choppers — he didn’t want to land too close to the terrorists.
They approached the bunkers at a dizzy rate, going down into the crater. Smoke and dust covered them, masking the last part of the descent. The bunkers were spaced fifty yards apart in a staggered pattern; they bore for a spot between three bunkers. As they approached the ground, they dipped below the top of the bunkers, hiding them from sight.
As McGriffin opened the door, the super Jolly Green Giant greased onto the ground. The bunkers rose at least a good five feet higher than the top of the helicopter.
McGriffin grasped the walkie-talkie, pistol, and shotgun, waving off Manny’s offer of the flare gun. “I can’t carry anything else. If you lose contact with me, let’s rendezvous just south of here, two bunkers away.”
“Rog.”
McGriffin leaped out onto the dirt just as the helicopter roared upward. It took him a few seconds to get his bearings. Spotting the burning choppers out of the corner of his eye, he ducked and ran diagonally across the clearing. He was one bunker away from the chaos of burning helicopters.
He scrambled up the side of the dirt bunker. Kicking away sand and rocks, he climbed up the sloping embankment, hugging the side and keeping in the dark. He was ten feet from the top when he decided to stop. The terrorists should be just on the other side of the bunker, and were probably waiting for him.
He moved sideways, carefully trying not to disturb the fragile balance of rock and sand. Shouting and a rain of gunfire peppered the ground around him. They were literally shooting in the dark; most of the spotlights on the bunkers had been shot out. He scrunched up close to the dirt. Hanging on the side of the dirt covered bunker, he felt like a fly clinging for his life.
The men moved on. McGriffin moved cautiously sideways. Slipping once on a false toehold, he pulled himself back up to the military crest. Manny’s chopper had disappeared, shooting up into the night sky where he waited for McGriffin’s call.
He reached the bunker’s edge. Holding on to a clump of cactus, McGriffin took a cautious peek around the corner.
Six men ringed the remaining helicopter. Weapons drawn, they crouched with their backs to each other, silently guarding the surviving HH-53.