There was another rumble, this one deeper, and sounding as if it were close by. Then a geyser of steam and hot water shot up among the trees.
There was an earsplitting hiss, and the water continued to spew into the air, drenching the tops of the taller trees. The snow on their branches melted, and a large circle of earth appeared as the snow melted around the mouth of a tunnel access grating.
Another hiss and another geyser. Then a third.
All through the trees, the coolant was gushing into the air. With the Hudson drainage valves close, and water from the river pumping through the containment building and into the tunnels, the pressure buildup was forcing the water to the surface. Then Glinkov bolted.
Heading straight into the open, he dodged through the few small bushes that rimmed the clearing. The chopper sat in the center of the clearing like an insect. Its rotor whumped away in the darkness. The air was full of mist, wind-borne from the fountains spraying the forest on all sides.
In the clearing, the running man was an easier target than he had been earlier. Bolan fired a short burst, then the Kalashnikov was empty. He had no more magazines for it. Hurling the weapon aside, Bolan hauled Big Thunder from its sling and charged after the Russian. Eli and Rachel had reached the far side of the woods and were plunging into the trees. Bolan aimed carefully and squeezed. Just as the AutoMag barked, Glinkov tripped and fell headlong. The skull-busting .44 caliber slug sailed harmlessly over his head.
The Russian was up in an instant.
Bolan heard the rumble before he noticed the hole opening in the earth in front of him. He dived to one side just as a deep chasm opened in the snow. The rushing torrent underground had been too much for the tunnel walls. Weakened by the huge volume of superheated steam and water, they had given way under the intense pressure. Gnawing its way to the surface, the water had begun to spread out under the whole area, drenching the earth with its poisons.
While Bolan watched helplessly, Glinkov climbed into the chopper. The Executioner cursed. The man was getting away. He fired twice. The first slug bounced harmlessly off the chopper's fuselage, the second flattened against the bulletproof glass of the cockpit.
Eli and Rachel had caught up to him. Eli hit the ground, hauling Rachel down with him. The chopper's engine roared as its gun pods rotated, seeking them out. There was a burst of fire, and the earth exploded around the three warriors.
"Holy shit," Eli whispered when the firing stopped. "What the hell is that?"
"That's a 30 mm cannon," Bolan informed him. "Three barrels and remote controlled."
"Damn. We're in for it now."
"We can't let him get away," Rachel cried. "Anybody got an idea?"
Another surge of cannon fire tore into the earth. The three fighters hugged the ground, trying to burrow into the snow. Just to their left, the sound of the rushing flood grew louder. The hole was beginning to widen. "We can't stay here," Bolan shouted above the roaring water.
"Why the hell isn't he taking off?" Eli asked.
The shadows in the cockpit were stationary for a moment, then changed places. The chopper lifted off sluggishly. Glinkov was inexperienced, at least with the Cobra. At a height of fifty feet, the chopper spun on its axis. Bolan stood helplessly. But the helicopter wasn't going anywhere. With a roar, it loosened a salvo of rockets. The three warriors on the ground watched as the missiles crashed into the containment building near its curved peak. The roar was deafening.
The top of the building disappeared in a shower of flame and smoke. The ground trembled. But the concrete held. Four feet thick and reinforced with steel, it was built to withstand incredible stress. The machine wobbled under Glinkov's uncertain hand. Again the chopper belched fire, and a second cluster of rockets flew toward the building. But this time the pilot's shaky control was costly. The cluster of rockets sailed past the containment building. They vanished into the trees and exploded harmlessly against the mountainside.
The Cobra descended abruptly. As it touched down, the cockpit door slid open. There was the distant sound of an argument, barely audible over the roar of the chopper's engine. A second later, there was a muffled gunshot, and Peter Achison tumbled out into the snow.
The chopper's engine surged again, the rotor spinning faster and faster. The machine wobbled slightly, lifted off and bounced down hard. In an instant, Eli was on his feet. He tossed a pair of grenades to Bolan. "I'm going to draw his fire. How's your arm, Mack?"
"Eli, don't be an idiot," Rachel said. She jumped to her feet and grabbed Cohen by the arm.
He shook her off and ran toward the chopper. At first Glinkov didn't see him. Eli was counting on the Russian having his hands full controlling the chopper's flight. He dodged back and forth like a halfback in broken field.
Charging straight ahead, Eli tried to draw attention to himself. Bolan saw the cannon turret swivel and leaped to his feet. Behind him, Rachel was screaming over the roar of the rushing water. The turret swiveled again, drawing a bead on the running man. Bolan plunged on behind him. For a moment the chopper wavered, then lifted off the ground.
It hovered in the air, wobbling like a dead puppet on its last string. The turret swiveled again, this time seeking Bolan. Glinkov seemed uncertain of himself. Cohen was closer, but he knew Bolan was the bigger threat. The first burst of cannon fire passed harmlessly over Eli's head. It plowed the earth between the two running men. Cohen rushed on. His Ingram was spitting at the chopper, but the slugs bounced off harmlessly. The air was full of the chopper's roar.
Then, getting control of the machine, Glinkov rose higher. Fifteen feet in the air now, and rising. Eli ran right under it, and out of range of the deadly cannons. Glinkov would have to move to find him again. The chopper slipped sideways, and Eli was back in the open. He stood motionless, fighting to get another clip in his Ingram. When the gun was reloaded, he backed away, trying to get an angle of fire that would let him chew at the chopper engine's air intakes. The cannon turret swiveled again, and Eli began to fire. The cannon barked, and hellfire rained all around Cohen's figure. This time Glinkov didn't miss. For a second everything stopped. Then Bolan heard Rachel's scream over the noise of the engine.
Pulling the pin on his first grenade, Bolan chucked the M-56 in an arc. It bounced off the fuselage just in front of the air intake and fell into the snow.
Bolan hit the deck as the grenade went off, sending razor-sharp steel fragments whizzing overhead. Glinkov banked the chopper slightly to the left, and Bolan was on his feet. The turret swiveled as the Russian tried to draw a bead on the man below. Bolan pulled the second pin and sprinted straight at the chopper.
The angle was too tight for effective control of the cannon turret, and Glinkov tried to raise the chopper. Bolan let go of the second M-56 as the helicopter pitched forward and roared over him. The grenade sailed just over the lip of the intake, and the Cobra surged ahead. Bolan dropped down and dug into the snowy crust. The grenade went off, and the chopper pitched wildly to one side. The fuselage burst into flame. The Cobra yawed and staggered. The entire area was bathed in light from the burning fuel.
Its engine mangled, the rotor shaft seized and one blade snapped off. The chopper fell like a stone.
Its fuel tank exploded as its nose tipped forward. The ruined machine was consumed in flame for an instant and then fell into the churning maelstrom of radioactive waste. The hiss of the extinguished flame was applause to Bolan's ear. Bolan sprinted to Achison and rolled him over. There was a jagged exit hole where his forehead had been.
Splinters of bone stuck out at odd angles. The gore oozing from the ruined skull had already stained the snow in a small circle around the dead man. Robert Hanley would never know it, but his account had just been closed. Turning back toward the plant, Bolan stood motionless for a long moment.