Jackson slowed the engine.
It was Mitchell who saw it first, a flashing light racing across the darkened horizon. He watched as the light raced over the top of the fishing fleet and turned towards the burning oil rig. A second later, a powerful searchlight mounted under the nose of a Venezuelan military helicopter switched on. A bright-white circle of light sped across the surface of the water.
It was looking for them.
Mitchell turned around and looked for the spare rifles Grace had put inside the Zodiac. He swore when he saw that weapons were all gone, thrown over the side when they’d hit the last wave head on.
“Hang on,” called out Nate as he turned the boat away from the bright spotlight surging across the water towards them.
Mitchell grabbed hold of a rope just as Jackson swerved hard to the right. A couple of seconds later, the light raced over the spot where they had just been. He was about to say something when he spotted Jackson’s silenced assault rifle lying on the waterlogged floor of the Zodiac by his feet. Crawling over, he scooped it up, quickly removed the suppressor, and ejected the magazine. Mitchell shook his head when he saw that there were perhaps no more than ten rounds remaining.
Mitchell leaned close to Jackson. “Try and keep us in the dark as long as you can. I’ll try to take out the searchlight.”
“Ten to one, the pilot and some of the crew have NVGs on,” replied Jackson. “We won’t remain hidden for long.”
“I know,” answered Mitchell solemnly. “Just do your best.”
Mitchell looked up into the night sky and watched as the helicopter banked over, quickly lining itself up for another run. Within seconds, the bright searchlight found the Zodiac.
It had them.
No matter how many turns Jackson did, he couldn’t shake the light.
Above, the helicopter slowed down and hovered in the air. A young door-gunner took aim and pulled back the trigger on his GPMG. Tracer rounds shot through the air, striking the water less than ten meters away from the Zodiac.
“Aim for the engine,” ordered the pilot.
The gunner acknowledged the order and adjusted his aim. His finger edged back over onto the trigger.
Mitchell flipped his weapon’s selector switch to semi-automatic to conserve his precious ammunition and took aim at the bright light hanging underneath the front of the helicopter. His first shot missed; however, his second round shattered the light, plunging the world around them back into darkness.
“Good shooting, Ryan,” yelled Jackson as he gunned the Zodiac’s engine, trying to put some distance between them and their pursuer.
“They’ll be back,” replied Mitchell. As if to emphasize his statement, another long burst of automatic gunfire shot down from the sky, hitting the water right behind Jackson, showering him.
Mitchell dropped down on his back and took aim at the large dark shape as it moved around to allow the door-gunner a better shot at the fleeing Zodiac. Mitchell took a deep breath and held it. Just before the gunner opened fire, Mitchell fired off two shots into the open door on the side of the helicopter, hoping to kill or scare off the gunner. Mitchell never saw his rounds strike home in the dark.
Blood poured from the door-gunner’s shoulder. In pain, he called out for help. The crew chief reached over and pulled the injured man back inside the crew compartment. He hurried to stem the bleeding.
“Bring us around,” said the pilot to his co-pilot. He could hear the cries of his injured man in his headset. Cursing whoever was down there, the pilot wanted revenge.
The helicopter banked over.
The pilot looked out his side of the glass canopy and tried to spot the Zodiac through his NVGs. “Felipe, when we come about I want you to kill those bastards,” said the pilot to the door-gunner on the other side of the helicopter.
“Si, señor,” replied the gunner, as he pulled back on the charging lever of his GPMG.
On the water’s surface, Mitchell watched as the helicopter gained some height and lined itself up for another run at them.
“The Motorola, pass me the damn Motorola,” called out Grace.
Jackson pulled it from his belt and handed it to Mitchell, who quickly moved forward to give it to Grace.
Grace snatched the radio and passed an order to her partner on the fishing boat. Mitchell hadn’t expected to hear her speaking Japanese. She clearly was multilingual. He knew it would have to wait, but he wondered what other skills Grace possessed.
“What are you planning to do?” Mitchell asked Grace.
“You’ll see,” replied Grace. “Tell Jackson to head as fast as he can for the fishing boats.”
“If we do that, I’ll never be able to get off an aimed shot.”
“Give it up, Ryan, you’ll never bring down that helicopter with your rifle,” said Grace. “Tell Jackson to give it.”
Mitchell wasn’t sure what Grace was up to; however, as he saw it, their options were limited either way. He told Jackson to gun the outboard motor. Like a prized racehorse hearing the starter’s bell, the Zodiac leapt forward and surged over the top of the water, heading straight towards the middle of the fishing fleet.
Mitchell looked behind them and saw the helicopter dive out of the sky like some kind of prehistoric animal. He prayed that Grace had an ace up her sleeve, or they were going to be shot to ribbons in the next few seconds.
On the deck of the fishing boat, Midori listened for the tone emitted by the weapon in her hands to reach a high pitch. Gently switching from safe to armed, she held her breath and pulled back on the trigger. A brilliant, blinding light flashed in front of her eyes as a missile shot out of a long tube and raced straight for the unsuspecting Venezuelan helicopter. Seconds later, the missile’s one-kilogram warhead struck the engine compartment, instantly blasting it into thousands of pieces.
Mitchell’s mind barely had time to register what was happening. He saw a streak of light from the missile’s tail as it flew straight at the doomed helicopter. A second later, there was an explosion as the missile hit its target, followed almost immediately by a bright, orange-and-red fireball as the helicopter’s fuel tanks exploded. For a moment, the helicopter hung in the night sky, burning bright like a star. With another thunderous explosion, it began to tumble from the sky towards the dark waters of the Caribbean. Mitchell knew that everyone on board the helicopter was dead. No one could have survived the blast.
“Do you have any more surprises you wish to share with Nate and me?” Mitchell asked Grace.
Grace looked over, grinned at Mitchell, and shook her head.
A minute later, Jackson pulled up beside their fishing boat. Midori was waiting for them with a Russian SA-18 anti-aircraft weapon in her hands. Mitchell was first out of the boat. He turned around and helped Grace and Jackson on board the fishing vessel. Mitchell let go of the rope and watched as their Zodiac faded into the dark, carried away by the current.
“That’ll give them something else to look for,” said Mitchell.
“Folks, I don’t want to be the negative one here, but by shooting down that helicopter we just declared war on Venezuela,” asserted Jackson.
“Well, it was a clear case of them or us,” observed Mitchell.
“I’m not saying that it wasn’t,” replied Jackson. “It’s just that this place is soon going to be crawling with Venezuelan ships and helicopters looking for their downed chopper, and I for one don’t want to be put up against the wall and shot as an imperialist Yankee saboteur.”
Mitchell looked over at Grace. “Please tell me you have a contingency plan?”
“I do,” replied Grace confidently. Walking to the wheelhouse, Grace told the old man what she wanted him to do. Within seconds, the boat was sailing away from the other boats and picking up speed as it made straight for the lights of a fishing village on the shoreline.