Burning Angels

90

Jaeger reached down to the kid – the precious kid – lying flat in the bottom of the RIB, where he was shielded from the worst of the fire. Simon Chucks Bello couldn’t see a thing down there, and Jaeger didn’t doubt how much he was suffering, both physically and mentally. He’d heard him puke once already.

‘Hang on in there, hero!’ he yelled at the boy, flashing him a bracing smile. ‘I’m not letting you die, I promise!’

Still the Sunseeker bore down fast. It was no more than 150 metres to their stern, and it was only the rough ocean swell that was keeping the RIB shielded from its fire.

But that wouldn’t last.

Any closer, and the rounds unleashed by Jones and his cohorts were bound to find their mark. Worse still, Jaeger was running dangerously low on ammo.

He and Narov had each emptied six mags, so some 240 rounds in all. It sounded like a lot, but not when trying to repulse an assault by a score of gunmen on a speeding pursuit boat, using two short-range weapons.

It was only a matter of time before the RIB took a catastrophic hit.

Jaeger was tempted to grab the Thuraya and call Miles, screaming for the Taranis strike. But he knew he couldn’t afford to drop his guard, or relax his aim. As soon as the Sunseeker hove into view again, they needed to hit it doubly hard and accurately.

Moments later, the sleek motorboat reappeared, its powerful form slicing across their wake. Jaeger and Narov traded savage fire with fire. They saw the unmistakable figure of Jones raise himself and unleash a long burst on automatic. The rounds cut a chasm through the sea, one that reached out directly for the RIB. No doubt about it, Jones was a crack shot, and this burst was going to find them.

And then, at the very last moment, Dale powered the craft over the crest of a swell and the RIB dropped out of view, the fire ripping apart the air above their heads.

The howl of the Sunseeker’s massive engines was audible now. Jaeger tensed over his weapon, scanning the horizon for where the boat would make its next move.

It was then that he heard it. A stupendous noise – an earth-shattering, thunderous roar – filled the air, as if a deep-ocean earthquake was ripping apart the sea floor. It reverberated through the skies, drowning out all other sounds.

Moments later, a dart-like form tore out of the heavens, its single Rolls-Royce Adour turbofan jet engine powering it along at a punishing 800 m.p.h. It streaked above them in a shallow dive, twisting this way and that as the drone operator corrected the Taranis’s flight path to keep it on course with its target.

Jaeger heard deafening gunfire erupt from the direction of the Sunseeker, as those in the pursuit boat tried to blast the drone out of the skies. He pinned Jones in the sights of his MP7, squeezing off short aimed bursts, as his arch-enemy unleashed savage fire in return.

Beside him Narov was likewise eking out the last of her bullets.

But it was then that Jaeger sensed it.

His ears caught the soft, sickening hollow crunch of a high-velocity round striking human flesh. Narov barely cried out. She had no time to. The impact of the shot threw her backwards, and moments later she’d tumbled from the craft into the sea.

As her bloodied form slipped beneath the swell, the dart-like form of the speeding Taranis struck the horizon. There was a blinding flash of light, and a split second later a deafening explosion rolled across the ocean, chunks of blasted debris raining down on all sides.

Flames boiled and seethed around the stricken form of the Sunseeker, as the RIB powered onwards across the ocean. The motorboat had been struck in the stern, and flames and smoke were pouring off the vessel.

Desperately Jaeger scanned the waters immediately to their rear, searching for Narov, but there was no sign of her. The RIB was flying along at top speed, and in no time they would lose her.

‘Spin the boat around!’ he screamed at Dale. ‘Narov’s overboard and hit!’

Dale had been facing forward the entire time, steering a tortuous course through the ever-shifting swell. He hadn’t seen what had happened. He slowed the RIB in preparation to make the turn, just as a call came in on the Thuraya.

Jaeger punched answer. It was Miles. ‘The Sunseeker’s down, but not out. We’ve got several figures alive, and they still have their weapons.’ He paused, as if monitoring something from his vantage point, then added: ‘And whatever you’ve slowed for, get moving and make for the RV. You have to save the boy.’

Jaeger slammed his fist into the bulwark of the RIB. If they turned back towards the smouldering wreck of the Sunseeker, in order to search for Narov, the risk of the boy getting hit was too high. He knew that.

He knew the right thing to do was to press on – for his family’s sake; for the sake of humanity. But he cursed himself for the decision that he was being forced to make here.

‘Get under way again,’ he snarled at Dale. ‘Move! Make for the RV.’

As if to reinforce the good sense of that decision, a burst of fire hammered out of the distance. Some of Kammler’s men – Jones himself possibly included – were clearly determined to go down fighting.

Jaeger moved around the craft, busying himself trying to comfort Simon Bello, while scanning the skies ahead for the squat, bulbous form of the Airlander. He didn’t know what else he could do.

‘Listen, kid, stay calm, okay. Not long now, and we’ll have you out of all this shit.’

But Simon’s reply was lost to Jaeger, for inside he was burning up with rage and frustration.

Minutes later, the airship came looming into view, the ghostly white presence descending from the sky like an impossible apparition. The pilot took her massive bulk into a perfect hover, inching her towards the surface of the sea. The giant five-bladed propulsors – one set to each corner of the airship’s hull – whipped up a storm of spray as the Airlander’s skids made contact with the waves.

The pilot inched lower, until the open cargo ramp dipped its end beneath the ocean swell. The Airlander’s turbines screamed as the pilot held her rock-steady, the downdraught whipping a storm of seawater around the faces of the two men on the RIB.

Jaeger took control of the boat now. What he was about to attempt was a manoeuvre he’d only ever seen done by one of his former commando coxswains, back when he was a young marine recruit. It had taken that guy years of training to get it just right, yet Jaeger had just one shot to execute it perfectly.

He turned the RIB until its prow was facing directly into the hold. The loadmaster gave a thumbs up from the Airlander’s open ramp, and in response Jaeger gunned the powerful outboard. He was thrown back against the helm seat as the engine roared and the RIB surged ahead.

Any moment now they would slam into the Airlander’s open ramp at full speed, so Jaeger hoped to hell he had got this dead right.