Weapons of the Gods

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

“We’re gonna need more ammo,” Drake said.

“You said that before,” Mai came alongside them. “But here we are.”

Drake allowed her to see what lay before them. “And now?”

“You may be correct.”

“Of course. It’s a Yorkshireman’s birthright.”

The plains below were full of IS militant fighters; clumps of them scattered all around the field like fungus on food. The lower foothills were crawling with them, all armed: seated on rocks, standing apart, crouching alongside each other. The mountainside was thick with bodies, making a covert escape impossible.

The worst of it was — over half the fighters had already seen them and the other half were gradually becoming aware.

Luther ducked back quickly. Alicia stared at him. “And how does that help, soldier boy?”

“Instinct.”

“Oh, wow, we’d better watch out for that. Make sure it doesn’t infect us all.”

Drake watched the faces as they turned upward, all focusing on the insurgents that had crept among them. He couldn’t count them all, but gauged their number to be in the hundreds. Worse, every single one of them appeared to be carrying a weapon.

“The only way is back down,” Kenzie said. “But there’s no way out down there.”

“We could hold them off though,” Smyth said. “Whilst we look for another exit.”

“Shit, this complex is vast,” Drake said warily. He didn’t move, hoping stasis would give them a little more time.

“And those guys will know every inch of it,” Hayden said.

“We have no food,” Kinimaka said.

Alicia glanced over at him. “Typical Mano.”

“Lots of problems,” Hayden said. “Any solutions?”

Luther hefted guns in both hand. “We fight our way through like soldiers.”

Drake sighed. “Y’know, mate, you’re gonna get us killed. With that plan, yeah some of us may make it, but not all.”

Luther looked around at the faces. “Your team’s oversized anyway.”

Drake hoped he was joking. For once, he couldn’t see a way out. The caves were vast enough to claim everyone’s life. The mountain and the plains were full of enemy soldiers. Their best option was speed, but in what way?

The natives were getting restless. Some were shouting, others gesturing. It was all aggressive. Boots were starting to step forward, guns waved. The charge was coming. Drake had no doubt they would last a while in here; they could protect the entrance and the cave’s offshoots, but sooner or later the militants would start to think bigger — explosives and RPGs.

Think or die.

He found himself looking at Dahl and the Swede merely flicked his eyes upward.

Of course.

There was a chance. Drake freed up all his weapons and laid them on the ground. “Two minutes,” he said. “Tool up. This is gonna be one of the hairiest things we’ve ever done.”

Dahl handed him the radio. “You want the honors?”

“No, you do it, mate. It was your idea.”

Everyone else just stared at them, expressions saying: What just happened?

Dahl made the call and then said: “Eight minutes.”

Drake pursed his lips. “That long?”

“It is what it is, my friend.”

The gunfire began. Bullets ricocheted from the cave entrance and the roof, shearing off rock fragments. The floor became a good place to live. Drake and Luther couldn’t risk looking out, just simply rested their guns on a rocky ledge and fired blindly into the mountains. Behind, Alicia and Kenzie found a safe hide behind a jutting rock, enabling them to keep a better eye on the entrance. Already, Alicia was picking off those that the others missed as they stepped up to partially block out the light.

Already, they were close to being overrun.

“More firepower!” she cried.

They were already on it. Hayden and Kinimaka joining Drake and Luther on the floor, but further back, giving them a better angle. Smyth and Mai covered the cave’s rear, where the adjoining tunnels branched off. Between them, they had good coverage. Dahl stayed low to cover Molokai and pick off any stragglers that the others missed.

The noise inside the cave was tremendous, non-stop gunfire. The noise outside was nightmarish, the screams of those dying and the cries of the wounded. Drake saw hard, grizzled face after face looking over him, and had to trust that the others would take them down. Luther and he took turns reloading and then heard Dahl’s yell.

“Four minutes.”

The enemy came, shouting obscenities that the team didn’t understand. They came ready to maim and kill themselves. They came determined to rid this stain from their lands, their homes. There was no respite.

“Shoot!” Luther bellowed. “Fucking shoot!”

Bodies were piling up outside. Mai and Smyth blocked the passageways with the dead. When a grenade came toward her she kicked it straight back, shredding those that she’d already killed. Alicia somehow managed to grab a grenade in the air and throw it backward, further into the cave system before it exploded. Still, shrapnel and cave dust billowed through their space near the exit, rolling out among the attackers and disorienting them.

Drake heard it first: the incredible, timely, beautiful sound of an approaching Apache AH-64 attack helicopter. It housed a two-man crew and a nose-mounted sensor suite for target acquisition. Not that it would need that today. It carried a 30mm chain gun, Hellfire missiles and Hydra rockets. The amount of inbuilt survivable redundancies was mind-boggling, from shielding between cockpits so that at least one pilot might live, to airframe and rotor blades designed to withstand a hit from 23mm rounds and a self-healing fueling system.

Right now, it represented survival.

It came with an identical twin, and a cargo chopper that hung high in the skies.

“How?” Alicia wondered.

Dahl shrugged. “Swedish ingenuity.”

Drake choked. “Did you flat-pack them in?”

“I called Secretary of Defense Crowe, through Cambridge,” he said. “And asked for an airstrike.”

“Damn, then she still has juice!”

“Enough to save our lives.”

Already, the militants were turning away from the cave, re-evaluating their attack. Drake was able to glance carefully over the ledge. Huge gray choppers filled the air above, making a beeline for the top of the mountain.

“Down!”

The chain gun let loose; its nightmarish, thunderous release striking down anyone in its path and terrifying the rest. Its deadly course was marked by rock, earth and bodies shooting upward. The SPEAR team didn’t lose a second; rising instantly to evaluate their escape. At that moment the other helicopter used its own chain gun lower down the mountain, taking the attention of those gathered below. The scene was one of devastation.

“Cargo bus is hanging back,” Drake said. “We’re gonna have to hotfoot it.”

“There.” Luther pointed to a patch of the plain below which was empty.

“Looks good. We ready?”

They gathered and then waited as both Apaches came around again. More 30mm rounds laced the air, destroying everything they touched. Most of the militants were routed, seeking shelter and safety. Only the hardiest, or most foolish, kept coming.

Drake saw two scrambling among the rocks and picked one off immediately. The other ducked behind a boulder. Luther kept him covered with constant fire.

“Go, go.” Hayden hurried them out.

The mountainside was a battleground, littered with bodies. The Apaches came around again and again. Hellfire missiles eliminated groups of militants and took enormous chunks from the mountain and the foothills. Earth and rock drifted in the air, in places a visible screen of fine debris.

The SPEAR team hustled from shelter to shelter, finding plenty of rocks to hide behind up on the mountain. The choppers followed their paths above, raining down hell and death onto their enemies. Molokai ran valiantly with the heavy artifact, watched closely by Alicia who helped guide his way. Drake, Luther and Dahl darted with guns up, constantly firing, picking their enemies off or forcing them to duck down behind rocks. Mai and Smyth used grenades from the back, helping to flush out the stragglers and obscure the view from behind. As a complete team, their firepower was stunning.

Drake’s boots touched the foothills, the ground becoming less rocky. Finding cover was harder down here, so they moved slower and with precision as yet more missiles flew at the mountain and the plains below.

The cargo chopper drifted toward the empty field.

Constant fire from the Apaches dampened their enemies’ resistance, making every person fear for their own safety. By the time Drake reached the base of the foothills and saw the desert plains opening out before him, there was no more gunfire. Still, they all moved cautiously with their weapons. The big chopper touched down gently, its rear door lowering.

“RPG!” Mai yelled.

It came from nowhere, fortunately flying wide of the target. Mai and Smyth spotted a glint in the foothills and concentrated their fire as they ran. There were no more RPGs.

Drake’s boots hit the lowered door first. He knelt and turned, gun to shoulder, seeking enemies at their rear. Luther and Dahl were beside him, ranged across the ramp.

“Clear.”

The last person ran aboard, jumping at full stretch since the helicopter was already rising. Drake and two companions laid down a hail of covering gunfire.

“Are we alive?” Alicia asked from her place on the floor, staring out of the rear door.

“I certainly hope so,” Mai said. “Because you’re surely no angel.”

“And proud of it.”

Drake watched intently until they were out of missile range and the door had finally lumbered shut. Only then did he relax, dropping his gun and taking several deep breaths.

“That was bloody close.”

Molokai wriggled out of the heavy backpack, dust mushrooming from his clothes and filling the cabin. “And the artifact is intact.”

“Good,” Drake said. “Because that’s the last one. Where do we go from here?”

Hayden unhooked her satphone. “Let’s find out shall we?”