“I concur,” Gail said, appearing a few seconds later. “Who knew they had a cannon out there?”
Jonathan ran the options through his head and came up with nothing but bleak outcomes. If they stayed in here, they’d either get burned out or sniped out. If they tried to escape the building, they’d get torn apart; but even if they could make it to the woods, what then? Enemy evasion was a specialized enough skill for professionals. He had a mother and her son along for the ride.
His instincts said to stay put and fight it out, but that option, bravado aside, could only end badly for all of them.
His earpiece popped as someone broke squelch on the radio. Kendig Neen’s voice said, “Last chance to surrender. That is, if you’re still alive. In thirty seconds, we’re coming for you.”
Jonathan looked to Boxers. “We’ve had this discussion before,” Big Guy said. “I don’t surrender. You want to try to make a break with them in tow, I’ll cover your six, but I don’t surrender to nobody.”
Christyne cried, “They’re going to kill us all!”
He looked to Gail. “I don’t see we have a chance either way,” she said.
“I’ll take that as a vote to fight,” Jonathan said.
She shrugged.
Christyne whined, “Maybe they’ll show mercy if we surrender?”
“No way,” Ryan said. “I’ve seen their mercy. I’m not going through-” He paused. “I hear a helicopter.”
“Fifteen seconds,” Neen said.
Jonathan glanced past the fire and saw skirmish lines forming. With the shutters gone, that would be their entry point. He heard the helicopters, too. “Big Guy?”
Boxers cocked his head. He scowled. Then he smiled. “Little Birds?”
Then, as if in answer to his question, a new voice arrived in his ear. “Scorpion, this is Romeo Foxtrot Six.”
The cavalry had arrived.
The sound of approaching helicopters startled Kendig. Aircraft never flew over this part of the world, unless they were ferrying Brother Michael from one place to another. Was it possible that he’d sent for his chopper to flee by air? If that were the case, then he must have been hiding from Sister Colleen when she went to his house to collect the weapons.
Then he heard the new voice on the radio. “… Romeo Foxtrot Six. We’re on quarter-mile final, coming in hot, and recommending you stay inside with your heads down.”
His stomach seized at the realization of what was happening. The sound of the rotors grew louder. The soldiers heard it, too, and shifted their gaze skyward, but there was nothing there. The sky remained black, free of any signs of approaching aircraft. All he saw were stars.
“There!” someone yelled, and he fired his rifle into the night sky.
Kendig saw the ink-stain silhouette against the stars just a second before the sky started returning fire. Muzzle flashes strobed like angry fireflies as the helicopter swooped to the ground with startling speed, and then, after only a second or two on the ground, swooped back into the sky.
Five seconds later, it happened again. The night roared with the sound of rotors and gunshots as the second chopper touched down and took off.
Now, though, the gunfire was louder. Black-clad killers moved out there among them, rending devastation.
Soldiers of the Army of God did their best to shoot, but no one knew for sure what the targets were, or where they were. Near Kendig, and all around him, people were dying in the darkness. He felt blood splash his face as one of the soldiers closest to him fell across the Barrett, rendering it momentarily useless.
Kendig looked to his left, to where Brother Absalom should be crouched with the other Barrett, but the young man had literally been blown in half at his navel.
Panic of the most malignant kind spread like floodwaters through a field, and in mere moments, the Army of God had been reduced to a fleeing mob. They pushed and jostled Kendig, who wasted precious seconds trying to reorganize them into something resembling a fighting force, but in the darkness and the confusion, that moment had passed.
With no one left to lead, he joined his fleeing troops.
CHAPTER THIRTY – THREE
Back in the sanctuary, Jonathan and his team had taken a position on the floor at the base of the stage that held the altar. They sat back-to-back in a circle around the Nasbes, weapons pointed out to address any threat that might materialize.
Jonathan could see nothing useful from their position, but the sounds told him everything. The crescendo of fire as the MH6 Little Bird choppers flared to land, and then the roar of the rotors as they took off two seconds later. In his mind, he could visualize Unit operators peeling off of the outboard benches to do what they did best.
The shooting peaked over the course of fifteen or twenty seconds, and then the shooting turned to the sounds of panic that always indicated the beginning of the end. The shooting slowed to singles, and then it stopped completely.
Jonathan’s earbud popped. “Scorpion, Romeo Foxtrot Six. LZ is secure. Advise when you’re ready for exfil.”
This was too much. Could it really be this easy? He pressed his mike button. “Exfil in one.” He stood, and along with Boxers and Gail, extended assisting hands to the Nasbes to help them rise.
Ryan looked terrible. The cumulative effect of fear and exhaustion-and maybe blood loss-had turned his skin gray. His mom looked confused and terrified. “What now?” she said.
Jonathan loved this part. “It’s over. You’re going home.”
Mother and son exchanged glances that betrayed their skepticism.
“Really,” Gail said. Outside, the night filled again with the sound of an approaching chopper.
Despite the presence of friendlies, Jonathan and his team kept the Nasbes in the middle of a protective wedge as he walked quickly without running to the front doors. He threw the giant latch and pushed the heavy doors open-just a crack at first, as he double-checked against some kind of trap, and then all the way to allow everyone to pass.
Colonel Rollins met him just outside the door, where strewn bodies lay untouched and blood appeared black on the concrete. “I told you we monitor everything,” he said, answering Jonathan’s unasked question.
Actually, it answered only one; but the others could wait until the PCs were secure.
The Little Bird sat on the ground, its rotors cutting a windy disk in the frigid night. Jonathan counted eight black-clad operators surrounding the chopper, their weapons directed at every compass point. Rollins led the way to the tiny door in the chopper’s side. He pulled it open and gestured for the PCs to enter.
Christyne looked stunned. Hesitant.
“It’s all right,” Rollins shouted over the roar of the engine. “With Boomer’s compliments.”
Ryan perked up at the name. “Dad’s here?”
Rollins shook his head. “No, but you’ll see him soon.”
“Where?”
Rollins shot a look to Gail. “Soon,” he said. “Time to climb aboard.”
Gail understood the hesitation to mean that she wasn’t cleared to know their final destination.
As Ryan scrambled aboard, Christyne looked first at Boxers, and then to the rest of the team. “Thank you,” she said. She reached out for Big Guy, offering him a hug.
Entering rare territory for him, he allowed it to happen.
“You’re very strong, you know,” Christyne said.
Jonathan realized that he’d never seen Boxers blush before. At least not like that.
As she pushed away, Rollins put a hand at her back to urge her into the Little Bird. No one was safe until they were airborne.
Christyne braced herself against the door and turned one last time. “God bless you all,” she said.
The instant she was clear of the door, Rollins slammed it closed, and the chopper was airborne, leaving them all to look away and close their eyes against the rotor wash.
Rollins said something into his radio that Jonathan couldn’t hear, but soon the infil choppers were returning for exfil.
“What’s next?” Jonathan asked the colonel as the birds got louder.
“I guess we all go home,” Rollins said. “Mission accomplished.”