After he had turned off the road on to the track that led to his camp site he veered off and parked the Toyota amongst the trees. He walked between them until he came within sight of the Winnebago. He gazed around, all his senses on maximum alert for any unexpected presence, half expecting a snatch team to emerge from the woods and take him down. He had to get out of there now. But which vehicle? He could head for the border in the four wheel drive pick up along the dirt tracks he had already mapped out in his head. But all his survival kit was in the RV.
‘Hey fella,’ someone called out in a California drawl. ‘I don’t know if you already checked it, but I reckon your back tyre there’s pretty well flat.’
Dan glanced briefly at the elderly hippy type sitting beside his Harley Davidson motor bike with a cigar clamped between his teeth and then examined the right rear wheel. ‘Shit, you’re right, thanks. Fuck it!’ He bent down further and saw the spare wheel stored in a cage under the vehicle.
He wondered if the guy with the Harley might give him a hand, but when he looked towards him the man had disappeared. He retrieved the lug wrench from its stowage and tried to loosen the first nut. Goddam it, they were on tight! He thought again about driving the Toyota instead when suddenly the nut gave and he started on the next one. He did not see the white Chevrolet Equinox driving slowly between the other parked up RVs and stop fifty yards away neither did he notice the driver walk quietly up and gaze at his straining back.
‘Do you need a hand there?’ a female voice called out in a clearly enunciated English accent. Dan whirled round with consternation and a happy smile fighting for control of his expression. There was Gerry standing there alone with one hand on her hip and the other clutching a set of car keys. He could not hear the sound of voices calling out orders; the clicking of weapons being armed and there was no sign of a SWAT team encircling his position. Just Gerry, standing straight and tall with a half-smile playing on her lovely suntanned face.
‘It’s good to see you Gerry,’ he said, dropping his guard but then looking warily around. ‘But how the hell did you find me?’ Instantly she looked alert and gazed around.
‘You told Richard Cornwall where you were. He told me I would find you here.’
‘Richard Cornwall…Who’s he?’
They stared at one another; both astonished and instantly worried.
Then they heard a helicopter approaching overhead. It was no more than two hundred feet up and they could feel the downdraught from the rotor as it drew to a hover overhead. The two of them stared up at it and saw the word police written large on the underside.
‘Shit!’ Gerry shouted above the noise, ‘I suspect that someone else has picked up the trail.’
‘I think it’s time to leave.’
‘That helicopter will trail us!’
‘Then let’s get rid of it.’ He opened the door to the RV and disappeared inside. Ten seconds later he emerged carrying an M79 grenade launcher. He held it high for a moment and then crouched down and aimed it towards the police helicopter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
‘Jesus H Christ he’s got a thump gun!’ Vince Parker shouted at the helicopter pilot. ‘Get us the hell out of here!’
The young pilot pulled the chopper into a high climbing turn and waited twenty seconds before asking his question. ‘What’s a thump gun?’
‘A grenade launcher; it can blow this helicopter apart,’ Parker replied.
‘So we’re not going back there, right?’
‘No. Just give me a minute… let’s see; can you put me down in the roadway at the park entrance?’
‘Well the road’s not very wide… but yeah, that should be ok.’
‘Then let’s take a wide circuit behind that hill and then bring it down below tree level,’ Parker suggested.
‘Hey! Like in the movies!’ the pilot agreed with enthusiasm.
‘If you like,’ said Parker, ‘but we’re the good guys so let’s be careful, alright.’
‘Ok, it’s your call.’
He lifted the chopper up and flew close to the ground until the camp site had disappeared from view and then picked up the trail around.
‘Are you sure they won’t hear us?’ the pilot called.
‘They might,’ Parker admitted, ‘but I don’t think they’ll be able to tell we’re we are. Is that the road back to their van?’
‘That’s it.’
‘Ok, put me down and then fly back and find the other guys; tell them to drive here.’
‘What are you going to do?’
Parker grinned and patted his M40 sniper rifle. ‘I’m going to herd them.’
Parker watched the helicopter disappear back behind the hill and then jogged along as quickly as he could while encumbered with the rifle until the camp site came into view. He crouched behind a tree and then took careful aim at the RV’s front wheel. The tyre deflated with a bang and the vehicle lurched over. Hall and Tate jerked round towards the sound of his rifle.
‘Ok I’ve got the two of you covered,’ he began to say, but Gerry Tate sprinted towards the woods beyond the Winnebago. He cursed and squeezed off two shots in quick succession. Oh hell, this was not going according to plan. A movement caught his eye and he saw a flash of blue amongst the trees. It was Tate running quickly through the trees. Towards him. He swung the rifle round and fired a shot. He cursed and suddenly realised that the bolt action rifle was a poor weapon against a quickly moving target, but soon she would slow down and try and stay under cover as she approached him. Then he realised she wasn’t slowing down; she was running towards him at full speed, leaping over tree roots and low scrub and ignoring the branches that whipped across her body. He aimed, fired and missed. He worked the clumsy bolt action as fast he could and fired again. Now she was too close and he could see the blood on her face where she had been cut by a tree branch and he could also see her face was contorted by hate and anger and she was nearly upon him and he worked the bolt action then tried to club her with the rifle just as she launched herself at him in a full on football tackle that knocked him flying. She rolled off him and he scrambled to his feet but not as quickly as she did. She backed off and checked that the rifle was out of his reach. He watched her clench her fists and rub her thumbs over her knuckles.
She was the same height as he was, or maybe slightly taller, but still she was a woman and however physically well developed, she was thirty pounds lighter than he was and not as strong.