Decker thought it just about felt like it, too. The ligature around his throat was getting tighter by the second and he felt the blood pounding in his temples as the blood supply was trapped in his head. He began to grow dizzy and felt the thug’s breath on the side of his face as he spoke once more. “Enjoy hell!”
The American had never been this close to death before. He called out for help but by the time his scream had gotten past the ligature around his neck it was nothing more than a weak croak. His vision grew blurry and he saw stars swirling all over the engine room. He knew it was seconds now and he would lose consciousness and then the man would choke the last of the life out of him with no struggle at all.
He had read about extra reserves of adrenalin surging through people in their final moments and now it happened to him. From some deep, primal urge to live he felt a burst of energy powering through him and managed to pivot forward until he lifted the Indian off his feet.
Decker was a bigger man, but the weight of the Indian hanging off his back and using the ligature around his neck to stay there was almost enough to send him tumbling forward. He kept his balance and stayed on his feet, finding his last ounce of energy to tip forward once again and heave the man over the top of his shoulders.
He crashed down on the floor at Decker’s boots, and the American stumbled back and grabbed desperately at the ligature, untying it and tearing it away from his throat. His gasps for air were deep and his lungs burned, but he was still alive, and he had just seconds to end the threat from the other man.
Still breathless, he padded forward and stomped on the man’s face as hard as he could. The Indian’s nose collapsed under the impact of the blow and Decker heard it shatter and squash all over his face.
The man howled and screamed and when Decker removed his boot he saw the nose was smashed all over his face and blood was streaming down over his mouth and chin. He spoke in rapid Hindi, but through the blood bubbles and phlegm his words would have been unintelligible in any language.
Decker said nothing, but lashed out a second time with his boot, this time with a full swing-kick that hit the man’s head like an AFL placekicker going for a field goal. The blow propelled the man backwards over the rail and sent him crashing down on the generator where he landed with a sickening crack.
Decker wasted no time in taking the man’s weapon and charging back up the engine room steps. He burst through the hatch to find the others were long gone, but he knew where they were headed when he heard the sound of helicopter rotors speeding up.
The helipad.
22
Decker used a steel staircase on the starboard side of the yacht to reach the top deck and when he got there it was just in time to see Madan and Kaleka hauling Selena across the Helipad toward a glossy new Jet Ranger.
Scanning the deck for his friends he saw Riley and Diana hiding inside a set of steps just below the pad.
“Where the hell have you been?” Riley said.
“You’re not going to believe this, but…”
“Nevermind,” Riley said. “They just dragged her out of the elevators a few second ago and we got separated from Charlie. He’s over there behind the ATC cabin and Lena’s well on her way to the chopper so it’s now or never.”
“Good job I have some back-up then,” Decker said, pulling the gun from the engine room out of his belt.
“Where did you get that?”
“A friend gave it to me,” Decker said, and fired the weapon twice. He felt the recoil as the nine mil parabellums burst from the flashing muzzle. Hauling airfreight around south Asia had never required the use of firearms, and this recent adventure was the first time he had fired a gun since Afghanistan, and even then it was a training exercise. A senior officer and pilot in the US Marines was rarely in the front line, and most of his time in the Leathernecks was spent at forty thousand feet, just the way he liked it.
“We’ve got to get closer!” Riley said. “Over to Charlie.”
Firing the gun as he went, Decker and the others ran to the small cabin that Madan used as his ATC center and launched themselves into a dive to avoid the final spray of rounds from Kaleka’s Micro-Uzi.
Madan and Kaleka were still hauling Selena toward the Jet Ranger and when they saw the chaos unfolding on the helipad they speeded up their escape to the chopper.
Kaleka was starting to lose his patience with Decker and his friends. They had humiliated him in front of Madan too many times and this time would be the last or awkward questions about his capacity would start to be asked. “Kill them!” he screamed. “They’re behind the control room!”
Madan climbed on board the helicopter, and his men joined him a moment later dragging Selena Moore into the idling machine as they went. He spoke a series of orders into his radio and Kaleka began to retreat, firing short burst from the Uzi as he made his way toward the Bell.
When Kaleka was inside, the machine began to rise from the helipad, its rotors whirring faster and faster until they were a blur.
“Do something!” Diana yelled. “He has the journal and Selena and he’s getting away.”
“Like buggery is he,” Charlie said. He vaulted over the wall separating the control room from the helipad and sprinted toward the chopper.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Riley yelled. “Not even I would do that!”
“Crazy son of a bitch!” Decker muttered. He raised his gun and fired rapid bursts to give Charlie as much cover fire as he could.
The men fired back, a lethal volley of rounds aimed at Decker, and the American and his friends ducked back behind the ATC center as the men raked the cabin with submachine gunfire. They obliterated it into plastic splinters and glass shards with a devastating fusillade, and Decker clamped his eyes shut for a second as the dust settled on top of him. A quiet life… that’s all I ever asked for…
The former military policemen had reached the rear of the chopper when they turned and started firing on him. He still had part of his upper arm in bandages from the attack in Goa, and now it was like he was begging for more.
He dived to the floor of the helipad and made a couple of rolls, but he was no parkour specialist. Decker could see he was trying to roll right under the tail boom and come up smelling of roses the other side where Selena was being forced into the side door.
But he timed it wrong, and ran out of momentum too soon. He ended up coming to a stop without any cover and as he stumbled to his knees the men fired on him.
Decker had to distract them. He raised his arms over the wall to engage the enemy once again, firing the last few rounds at the chopper. The bullets fractured the cockpit window but it was not enough to help. Out of rounds, he ejected the empty magazine out of habit and watched helplessly as Madan’s goons grabbed Charlie and held him down while Kaleka belted him with the grip of his pistol.
Knocked out cold, Charlie Valentine was bundled into the chopper alongside a horrified Selena Moore.
“We can’t let them go!” Diana said.
“They’re too heavily armed,” said Decker.
“He’s right,” Riley said. “We’ll be cut to shreds. That was bloody idiotic what Charlie just did and he’s lucky they didn’t use him for target practice.”
Decker rubbed the sweat from his eyes as he jammed the pistol into his belt and sighed. He stared at Riley and Diana for a few moments, and they both looked exactly how he felt — angry, scared and ashamed. They had let Madan get away not only with Stanhope’s journal and Diana’s translation of its mysterious symbols, but also let him kidnap two of their friends.