“Understood.”
“I’d like a shot first, if you don’t mind, major. Kinda owe the bastard, don’t ya think?”
Hearing the intensity in the female voice, Major O’Malley turned to study Amanda. Resting against the left side window with a firm set to her jaw, she had fierce determination in her eyes. Deciding she had some justification, he smiled.
“Amanda, I’ve got a serious score to settle. That prick nearly caught us with our pants down.”
“Yeah, well—”
“And, I’ll tell you what else.”
“What?”
“When the time comes, I’ll flip you for it, that fair?”
Amanda smiled.
“As long as you don’t cheat, yeah.”
“Good enough.”
Amanda returned to viewing the scene below. Cruising up and over the ridge, just above the tree line, they traversed Mt. Washington and into Allentown and Mt. Oliver. In minutes, they were flying over Carrick, following the path of Brownsville Road to the designated rendezvous.
“Ma’am?”
“Go, major.”
“There’s a recent explosion that blew up Brownsville Road right there. See?”
“Yep, it’s still smoldering. What happened, you think?”
Scott concentrated on the destruction as the helicopter slowed for a better view. As the crater became visible from the left side of the helicopter, GT grunted at the view.
“That’s a C-4 dispersal, don’t ya think Scotty?”
“Ah, yeah, that’s what I’m thinkin’. Pound, maybe a pound and a half.”
“A pound would do it.”
“You said C4?” asked the colonel.
“Yep. Yes, ma’am.”
“Our team? Daubney and Mickey?”
“Probably,” suggested Scott. GT nodded.
“To what end?” asked the major. He turned to face GT and Scott directly.
“To blow shit up, sir. Aside from that, we don’t know.”
“I like that: ‘To blow up shit, sir.’ Funny. Shamus, where we at?”
“Comin’ up on five clicks out from the Route 51 and Brownsville Road intersection. Hold on! I see activity at the rendezvous.”
“They made it?” asked Nicole, hopeful.
Amanda stiffened, trying to peer upfront. She grabbed for her binoculars. Major O’Malley spun forward in the co-pilot seat, scanning the area. For a few seconds he was silent.
“Damn!”
“Major?”
“Ma’am, there’s at least 500 men and hundreds of horses there. Trucks all over. Some bikes and quads. Shamus, back us off for a moment.”
“Roger that.”
Shamus banked north, easing backwards toward the city and into a slow circle.
“That is definitely Phoenix’s army!”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Dammit!”
“Orders?”
“Let’s do some recon, Shamus, keep us about two miles out and run a circle around that camp. Major, you track trucks. Scott, you got horses. GT, you count men. Ren, Stimpy check for our men in particular. Daniels, Tim and the rest of you gather up what visual assessments you can. I’ll search for Phoenix. We need to develop an overall lay of the camp and try to figure out where they’re heading.”
All agreed and Shamus flipped a switch to baffle the engine for optimum quiet mode, banking into a tighter turn. At about the two-mile mark, each to his duties, they all assessed the scene. There was a bustle of activity below and, after nearly one complete circuit of the camp at the junction of Route 51 and Brownsville Road, the Superhawk eased in a bit closer to assess the southern route of Brownsville Road.
“Well, that’s a good sign?”
“What do ya mean, ma’am? What’s a good sign?”
“Look it there, major. They’re men on horseback pushing south past the rendezvous.”
“So?”
“So that’s good news, because it means Phoenix and his army is still on the hunt.”
“Good point. I see,” said Major O’Malley, “There’s at least a hundred or so horsemen already five, maybe ten miles south.”
“Good. Means there’s probably some spacing between our men and Phoenix’s main force.”
“Yes, ma’am. In fact, I’ll wager that explosion had something to do with slowing down that army.”
“Agreed.”
“What do you want to do now, ma’am? Send in another pretty lady?” asked Scott.
Colonel Starkes smiled at the reference to their last Hellfire launch. She noted how he gently stroked the laser controls for the remaining payload.
“Yeah,” growled Amanda, “Do it.”
The fury in her voice gave Colonel Starkes some pause. “No, Scott, not yet. I think we’ll save the last two for later. Shamus, take us a bit closer, but be prepared to bug out.”
“Always, ma’am. Roger that.”
Cruising a bit closer, they saw a nexus of activity clustered around a McDonald’s restaurant on the corner.
“Makes sense to coordinate from there… Shamus, take us on a path to take out that McDonald’s, Scott, ready the….”
“Shit! RPG!” yelled Shamus and Major O’Malley at once.
Shamus banked hard, dropping the helicopter nearly to the asphalt. Plummeting sideways behind a shopping center, spinning and guiding the bird precariously between numerous power lines and telephone poles, he feathered the stick with finesse. The passengers banged and bumped around inside, despite their harnesses; and the swift change in altitude and direction sent a few unsecured pieces of equipment sprawling. Almost immediately, an explosion took out the building they had slipped behind. Shamus pulled back up on the collector to regain altitude, fading away from the camp.
“Professor! Another RPG is launching at three o’clock, 900 meters,” said Scott, calmly. He had reverted to using Shamus’ old military tag.
Scott stared out at a man in the distance, standing on a tailgate, lining up on the helicopter.
“Bug out, Professor,” said GT, “Seven o’clock. An RPG in that pickup.” He remained decidedly calm and confident in Shamus’ abilities.
The rest of the compartment regained their stomachs, tamping down their fear. Colonel Starkes stared out the window at the man in the truck bed, the helicopter slipping lower and away from the threat.
“We’re good, ma’am!” said Major O’Malley.
“I see that. Very nice evasive, Shamus.”
“Thanks, ma’am.”
Colonel Starkes looked over at Scott and GT, each smiling.
“I take it you three have done shit like this before?”
“A time or two, yes, ma’am,” volunteered Scott.
GT quipped a small laugh.
“I’ll bet,” said the colonel.
“There’s no one better than the Professor in the air, isn’t that right Shamus?”
“Oh, but I blush at the compliment, GT.”
Shamus laughed, a deep rumble across the intercom. Nervous laughter blossomed in the cabin as adrenaline-dosed systems recalibrated. Still shaking, Nicole was not laughing. She stared hard at GT after his last comment. Glancing her way, he noticed.
“What?”
“We coulda just been killed.”
“True dat.”
“You think that was fun?”
“Sure beats an office job, Nicky.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“GT?” The major turned in his seat to face GT. His voice had deepened.
“Yes, sir?”
“You will not call her that, on both her and my behalf. She doesn’t like it. I don’t like. Understood?”
“Understood, sir.”
“Thank you.”
The major turned to the colonel. He caught a slight grin before it disappeared.
“Orders ma’am?” asked Major O’Malley.
“Let’s take a wide berth. See if we can slow down those horses heading south, keeping an eye out for our people.”