He hit the wall just as a door opened and someone emerged from the main building. If the figure looked to his left they would be caught.
He didn’t. He walked straight across the yard toward the helicopter.
Maddock pulled Leopov deeper into the shadows, pressing them both against the wall. Bones didn’t need anyone to tell him what he needed to do; Maddock could feel his warm breath behind him. Professor crept along to the corner, then disappeared around it out of sight. He didn’t know where Willis was.
The man didn’t so much as look at the dead bodies as he passed them.
“We’re going to have to stop him,” Maddock whispered. “If he gets into that thing there’s no way on earth we are going to be able to keep him here.”
As if on cue Willis appeared on the other side of the fence with a length of chain dangling from his right hand.
Maddock looked at it, then back at the helicopter, grasping what Willis had in mind. “We’ve found a stash of gasoline too, so Professor’s taking a look to see what he can rig up. There’s some old glass bottles in a storage shed along with a bag of old rags from the prison, so at worst we’re going in hot with Molotov cocktails.”
Maddock drew the chain through the fence.
It was a long shot and they’d be exposing themselves, but he had to do something.
“Stay here,” he said to Leopov.
She nodded in agreement. For once he was pretty sure she was going to do as she’d been told.
Maddock waited for the man to climb into the helicopter. Once he was in his seat he was facing away from them, meaning he could make his move. Bones helped carry the chain so it wasn’t dragging on the ground. The moved in a tight crouch, fast.
The engine burst into life, the rotor blades turning slowly before they’d covered half the distance. The blades gradually picked up speed, whipping up dust and debris as they did. Maddock glanced at the open doorway. There was only darkness inside. There was no way of knowing how long they had before the rest of the Spetsnaz team came to join the party.
Twenty yards from the helicopter, the pilot made their approach.
A couple of seconds later and they might have been able to get into it, and him out of it, before he realized what had hit him. Then they’d have had control of the bird. Too late for that. The pilot took her up, the runners lifting a few inches from the ground as it started to turn. The tail swung away from them.
He realized what the pilot had in mind; he wasn’t trying to flee, he was using the machine as a weapon.
The chopper continued to rise slowly, ten feet, twelve, fifteen and then a started to dip toward them as the tail rose in the air. Maddock and Bones took a step backward, battered by the downdraft.
The helicopter moved toward them, the blades spinning into a blur now, offering the promise of death.
They could press themselves up against the chain link fence, which would offer them some protection from the pilot — but it would also make them sitting ducks for the rest of his team. Or they could be gladiators, taking on the great beast with nothing but a chain.
“Throw it” Maddock shouted above the roar of the blades, pointing up toward the rotor cuff and willing Bones to read his mind.
In a single fluid motion they hurled the heavy chain into the air. Every muscle and sinew strained as Maddock sent the chain arcing upward.
They had one chance.
The steel links clattered against the blades as they spun, metal grinding against metal as it caught in the rotor and was dragged inward. The ends of the chain spun wildly, clattering against the glass windshield in front of the pilot’s face, creating deep cracks that widened in seconds to fissures. One end of the chain was whipped up and hit the blade again before being wound so tightly around the mechanism the engine shrieked under the extra strain, the helicopter bucking and twisting as the pilot wrestled with the stick trying to keep some sort of control and get it up out of there. The bird began to rise, but it was rocking violently, no real balance to the ascent as the blades slowed.
The engine screamed with the effort, but it wasn’t staying airborne. The tail swung wildly, turning and clipping the top of the fence. The tail rotor sliced into the chain links as the machine twisted in the air.The tip of the main blade touched the ground, metal digging deep into the ice, twisting, bending and buckling as it did, gouging into the ground. Chips of ice and metal flew all around, hard as bullets and every bit as deadly as the blades tore apart, sheering the bolts holding them.
Maddock ran, never looking away from the out of control machine as the cabin hit the ice. Too late, he realized that it was heading to the wall where he’d left Leopov. The helicopter hit the wall before he could even shout her name.
He watched as the pilot desperately tried to get out. The doorframe had buckled. He pushed and kicked at it, but it wasn’t opening. There was a moment of peace as the engine fell silent. That was the worst of it, that second of silence and seeing his face up against the glass, before the helicopter burst into flames. There was no chance of him making out alive. The heat was sudden and intense, the shockwave from the blast hurling Maddock off his feet.
He hit the deck hard, skidding as he scrambled back to his feet. He couldn’t see Leopov anywhere.
“Zara!” he yelled, his voice drowned by the crackling flames. He had no way of knowing if she could hear him.
No reply.
He pushed himself back toward the blazing wreckage, the staggering heat driving him back three steps for every two forward.
Bones yelled. He couldn’t hear any of the words for the roaring inferno, but sound was enough to turn his head so he saw the Russian gunman come charging out of the building. In a heartbeat the rifle in his hands was aimed squarely at Maddock’s chest.
He raised his hands in surrender. He was trying to buy time for Bones or one of the other guys to do something. Judging by the bodies on the ground the Russians weren’t taking prisoners.
Maddock was helpless. There was nothing he could do. He heard the shot and waited to for the pain.
Nothing.
How had the guy missed from point blank range? There was no second shot. The Russian crumpled, a blood red rose opening in the center of his chest.
He followed the direction of the shot back up to the watchtower.
Leopov stood there, leaning against the barrier with the dead sentry’s rifle in her hand.
TWENTY SIX
They came out with guns blazing.
Leopov picked off the first man before he knew where the threat was coming from. She was brutally efficient, one shot to the center of mass, another to the head. There was no getting up from that. Then she laid down covering fire for Maddock as he raced to join Bones back at the corner of the building.
Something shifted inside the helicopter, the struts holding the seats into the frame gave way. It was noise, not threat. He ignored it.
“She’s good, man, you have to admit it.” Bones cast an admiring glance in the woman’s direction.
“She’s a lifesaver. Now it’s all about how long she can hold them back.”
Maddock risked a glance around the corner. There was no sign of any of the Russians. They’d taken cover back inside the building. He heard the occasional shot. Nothing sustained. They were taking pot shots up at the woman in the tower.
“That it is, bro. That it is. We’ve got to do something before they get lucky,” Bones said.
It was only a matter of time before one of the stray shots clipped her.
The door swung outward. It was a dozen strides from them. As long as the Russians didn’t rush out to storm the tower he’d have long enough to reach it. What he did after that he wasn’t so sure about, but he could at least slam it closed and rob them of their line-of-sight on Leopov.