Spy High (38 page)

Hellhound began to reply as Skidmark
spoke in my other ear. “Terrorists are on the move. One truck is
pulling out; the other’s stopped just over the bridge. They’re
sending a party to check out that gunshot because Ratboy is
missing.”

“Shit!”

Kane’s head jerked up. “What?”

Cover blown. I had to tell Kane and
Hellhound about the incoming terrorists. And I’d have to reveal how
I knew.

I stared at Kane, my mind rocketing
through possibilities even while I spoke. “The terrorists are
sending a party this way. They’re investigating the gunshot…”

Skidmark spoke again. “Eight hostiles
incoming. Eight more with the truck by the bridge. The other truck
is bugging out. Clearing the gate now.”

“Shit! At least eight coming, maybe up
to sixteen,” I snapped, then shut up as Skidmark spoke again.

“Relay from Moonbeam; hostiles are not
to reach the main building. Take no prisoners. I say again;
intercept hostiles and kill them all.”

“Roger that,” I said faintly.

Kane and Hellhound spoke at the same
time, their aggregated questions translating approximately to
‘Aydan, what the hell?’

“Sorry,” I said, sorting and editing
facts as I spoke. “Orion is an MI6 agent. Five Eyes posted him here
to infiltrate the terrorist training camp.” I couldn’t quite bring
myself to lie to them outright, so I added, “I have radio contact.
Our orders are to eliminate the terrorists before they reach the
main building. No prisoners. But Orion’s out there, too, so we
can’t just shoot at any old thermal signature.” And I couldn’t warn
them about Moonbeam and Karma out in the woods…

Hellhound sounded affronted. “I never
shot anybody I couldn’t identify before an’ I ain’t plannin’ to
start now.”

“I’m sorry, I know, I’m just…” I
trailed off at the sight of Kane’s face. “What? What is it,
John?”

“Children.” He stared at me with
haunted eyes. “There are
children
in the next room...”

He was already lunging to his feet.

“John!” I seized his wrist. “John,
stop!”

He froze, his eyes burning with
frightening intensity in brittle skull-like features. Tension
vibrated in his arm, sizzling through my grip like an electrical
current.

“John,” I said, holding my voice calm
and even. “We won’t let anything happen to them. Okay? We
won’t.”

He nodded once, a short sharp motion
that looked as though it might shatter his neck.

I had to keep him away from the woods.
Eyes glazed, body vibrating with the need to annihilate, he looked
as though he would steamroll over every living thing without a
thought for his own safety until a bullet ended his rampage
permanently.

He might recognize Moonbeam and Karma
and Orion.

Or he might not.

“John,” I repeated. “Look at me.”

He drew a deep breath and focused on my
face. The terrifying blankness in his eyes dissipated, but the
hollow horror remained.

I put all the authority I could muster
into my voice. “You’re going to guard the children. Hellhound and
Orion and I will deal with the terrorists in the woods. You’ll be
the last defence in case we fail. The concrete walls are
bulletproof so stay low. Your orders are to hold the meditation
room. Clear?”

He gave another sharp nod, looking like
himself again except for those eyes. “Understood. Stay in phone
contact so I know what’s happening. Go.”

I went, heart hammering.

“Kane okay?” Hellhound asked worriedly
as I reached the door.

“I think so. For now. But if we let any
of those guys through it’ll be a bloodbath.”

“That ain’t gonna happen,” he rasped.
“Tell Orion he can engage ‘em in the woods if he wants. We’ll take
‘em out if they try to cross the open space. I got it all covered
‘cept for part a’ the west side. Can ya find a high place where ya
can cover the west?”

“I can get on the roof.” I hurried
toward the playground climbing frame.

“Too exposed, darlin’,” he objected.
“Can’t ya find a spot with more cover?”

“No time. I have to hang up now so I
can update John, and I’ll call you back when I’m in place.” I
punched the off button without waiting for his reply and rapped out
an update to Skidmark. Then I stuffed the hands-free earbud in my
ear and pressed Kane’s speed dial with trembling fingers.

“Kane,” he snapped.

I held my voice as steady as I could.
“Arnie is covering the north, south, and east sides of the
building. I’ll cover the west from the roof. I’m going up now, so
don’t worry if you hear me moving around up there. I’ll keep this
connection open so you know what’s happening.”

I pulled on my night-vision headset
again, manoeuvring it around Skidmark’s earpiece on one side and
the phone’s earbud on the other. Then I drew a deep breath and
clambered up the climbing frame.

Balanced on top, my entire body rocked
with tremors. When I reached up to grab the branch my arms felt
like limp noodles. The roof looked very far away.

So did the ground.

Fireworks were still exploding
intermittently and my guts twisted at the sound of an echoing
crack. Was that a rifle shot or a firecracker?

I’d be an easy target while I made my
sloth-like way along the branch.

If I could even hold on that long…

Shut up.

I clenched my teeth to prevent my heart
from escaping and swung my legs up.

I barely made it. My hands gave out
just after I reached the roof and for a heart-stopping moment I
slid toward the edge. Scrabbling and flailing, I managed to stop
inches away.

I lay plastered to the roof for a
couple of long moments, my too-rapid panting whistling in my
throat. Then I mustered the last of the strength in my shaking legs
to creep up the pitch of the roof.

I knew Hellhound would be watching me
in his scope, and I didn’t care. Abandoning dignity, I gained the
roof peak and inch-wormed along it as fast as my trembling body
would allow. The chimney loomed like a bastion of safety.

Skidmark’s sudden voice in my ear
nearly flung me off the roof with the force of my twitch.
Hyperventilating, I sprawled belly-down across the peak.

“Missed that,” I gasped. “Say
again.”

“I say again; four hostiles down,
twelve incoming.”

The whole damn truckload.

“Shit! Shit-shit-shit…” I bit off my
swearing and redoubled my efforts toward the chimney. “Do they have
night-vision?” I panted.

“Negative. Flashlights only.”

“Twelve hostiles incoming,” I repeated
for Kane’s benefit. “But they only have flashlights, not
night-vision.”

Thank God.

Not that it would matter out here. The
damn moon was like a spotlight. Hellhound was right; I’d be almost
as visible if it was daylight.

As if summoned by my thought, his rifle
spat its deadly report. My overloaded adrenal system surpassed
terror in a single bound and I scrambled mindlessly into the shadow
of the chimney. Arms flung wide, fingertips locked in its mortar
joints, I pressed my cheek against the rough fieldstone.

Below, one dark figure lay crumpled and
unmoving at the edge of the forest.

“One more hostile down,” I croaked for
Skidmark’s and Kane’s benefit.

Five down. Maybe more if Moonbeam and
Karma and Orion were still picking them off in the forest…

My pocket vibrated.

It took a couple of tries to convince
my fingers to loosen their hold on the chimney. I crouched in as
stable a position as I could manage and withdrew the phone,
clutching it in both shaking hands. If I dropped it…

Wishing I had a second hands-free
earbud and a third ear, I managed to punch the button and whisper,
“What?”

“That’s a good spot, darlin’,”
Hellhound muttered. “Ya can back me up if they all come at once,
but leave ‘em to me otherwise. I got a suppressor so they won’t see
my muzzle flash.”

Great, that was something else I’d
forgotten. With my first shot, I might as well send up a flare
announcing my presence.

Fabulous. Fan-fucking-tastic.

But hell, the way my hands were
shaking, I’d probably fumble my gun and drop it over the edge of
the roof before I could fire it anyway.

“Okay,” I whispered.

I didn’t bother to add that I’d be
lucky to hit anything at all.

“I love ya, darlin’.” The connection
clicked off and a moment later his rifle cracked again. Another
dark figure toppled out of the woods, and a fusillade of shots and
muzzle flashes erupted from where it had come.

Paralyzed, I held my breath waiting for
the sound of Hellhound’s rifle again. Had they hit him?

My mind refused to accept the
thought.

“Another hostile down,” I
whispered.

I had a job to do.

Do it.

Jamming my back against the chimney in
the deepest part of its shadow, I drew my Glock. Its familiar grip
comforted my palm, and I touched the spare magazine in the holster
for reassurance. Twenty shots. Only eleven possible targets.
Hellhound would take most of them.

If he was still alive.

I banished the thought. Concentrate on
the job.

Summoning every mental tactic I’d
learned in target-shooting tournaments, I drew a deep breath and
let it out slowly.

Visualize the calm flowing along my
arms; steadying my hands…

The men in the woods had stopped
shooting. Hellhound hadn’t fired again, either. Nothing moved.

The fireworks had stopped. They must
have run out. The silence sent a shiver down my spine.

The indifferent moon sailed high above,
riding a bright ribbon of cloud. I stared wide-eyed at the west
side of the forest, the trees unmoving in the moonlight as though
cast in silver.

Still as death.

Another long breath. In. Out.

My hands still trembled finely, but as
long as I didn’t go for a long-range shot I’d be accurate enough to
hit a body-sized target…

A man’s scream tore the air, a raw
animal-like shriek. Icy-hot talons of primal fear plunged into my
guts and wrenched them tight.

The sound cut off mid-scream.

“Seven down,” Skidmark said.

Heavy silence fell again.

They must have realized their losses by
now. Surely they’d retreat to the truck and pull out. Their
objective was bigger than a few hippies in the middle of the
woods…

I recalled Orion’s words with a shiver.
‘
…they view the commune members as depraved sinners worthy of
death.
’

The moon sliced the clouds like a
bright blade.

More long minutes of silence.

Then a nightmare of gunfire exploded
from the woods.

The shots seemed to come from all
directions. Adrenaline searing my veins, I snapped a look around.
Muzzle flashes from all four sides. I couldn’t see any
shooters.

Bullets thumped into the walls of the
building but they didn’t seem to be aiming for me.

Laying down covering fire, maybe?

A moment later it stopped. Behind me
Hellhound’s rifle cracked once, then again. And again. They must be
charging.

A man dashed out of the west woods
toward the building, firing toward the door.

Years of trapshooting instinct took
over my hands.

Lead the target.

Smooth pull.

My Glock spat fire and I steadied the
recoil, looking for my next shot. The man was down and motionless
but I put another round into him just to be safe.

Answering fire spewed from the woods. A
bullet thudded into the roof beside me and the crack-whine of a
ricochet off the chimney made me yelp and duck.

My foot slipped.

Flailing for balance, I fell hard on my
hip, jolting out a cry. More bullets battered the roof.

The slope claimed me.

Tumbling helplessly…

Kane’s voice shouted in my earpiece,
his words lost in the hellish din of gunfire.

I flung out frantic arms and legs,
halting my tumble but not the deadly slide.

More bullets struck the roof above
me.

My mind served up one last pointless
thought with slow-motion clarity: Lucky the gunman wasn’t a
trapshooter.

I slid over the edge.

A desperate grab as the building sailed
by. My left hand clamped onto the rain gutter only to be wrenched
loose by my momentum.

I crashed onto the pea gravel of the
playground and the world exploded in noise and bright flashes.

My lungs wouldn’t work.

Drowning in pain…

Kane dashed from the door, firing over
and over into the woods.

A long moment later I managed to drag
in a breath, my lungs wailing with effort.

My brain caught up. Not shot. Just the
wind knocked out of me.

Kane clamped an iron hand on my collar
and dragged me backward. The earsplitting reports of his pistol
above me dulled to heavy impacts in my overtaxed hearing.

Another wailing breath.

Through the doorway.

A crack and whine as a bullet
ricocheted from the concrete beside us. Behind us came a thump and
clatter as the bullet spent itself in the stack of stove wood.

Then we were behind the protection of
the concrete wall.

Kane crouched beside the doorway, gun
at the ready, gaze riveted outside. The muscles of his arms stood
out in hills and valleys of stone.

I drew an easier breath. Pain
subsiding.

Another breath.

Kane lunged forward and snapped off two
shots.

“Got him,” he said as though discussing
an annoying mosquito. “Aydan, talk to me!” His voice sounded
muffled and distant in my ringing ears.

“Two more down,” I croaked for
Skidmark’s benefit.

Kane spared me a glance from the
doorway, his taut face easing. “Thank God,” he muttered. Then he
spoke again, and I saw the phone earbud in his ear for the first
time. “She’s conscious,” he said. “I don’t know how badly hurt
yet.”