The Solitary Man (49 page)

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Authors: Stephen Leather

Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense

BOOK: The Solitary Man
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'I will kill you,' said Zhou savagely. 'I will kill you slowly.'

'Of course you will,' said Hutch, tightening his grip on Zhou's shirt collar. 'Ray, drop the knife and kick it over against the wall.' Hutch watched as Harrigan obeyed his instructions. 'Now go outside. Down the steps.'

When Harrigan reached the bottom of the steps, Hutch told Winter to follow him. 'Do I have to keep my hands in the air?' Winter asked.

'Billy, if you carry on like this, I'm going to shoot you in the leg. Now get down there with Ray.'

'You are a dead man walking,' said Zhou. 'Do you hear me? A dead man.'

'I died a long time ago,' said Hutch. 'Chau-ling, keep well away from Billy and keep the gun pointed at his chest.'

Winter tapped his breastbone with his finger. 'Right here, dear,' he said.

Hutch pulled Zhou away from the entrance to give Winter plenty of room. Winter shook his head sadly as he went outside. 'Big mistake, old lad. Big mistake.'

Hutch waited until Winter was standing next to Harrigan before he pushed Zhou to the entrance. The two guards had shouldered their rifles and were aiming up the steps. Hutch tapped the gun against Zhou's head. 'Tell them to back off,' he said.

'You tell them,' hissed Zhou.

'Tell them to back off or I'll blow your head off.'

'Blow my head off and you won't have a hostage.'

'Tell them!' Hutch shouted.

'No.'

Hutch's finger tightened on the trigger but he knew that Zhou was right. He pushed him forward, keeping a tight grip on his collar. 'Keep close behind me, Chau-ling,' he said as he started down the steps. She helped support Carver who was having trouble walking on his own. More of Zhou's men ran over, guns at the ready. A dozen. Twenty. Thirty.

'A dead man walking,' said Zhou.

'If I die, you die with me,' said Hutch.

'And the girl, too?'

'Shut up,' said Hutch.

'I'll make you a deal,' said Zhou, his voice suddenly silky smooth. 'Let me go and I'll allow the girl to live.'

They were halfway down the steps. More soldiers appeared to Hutch's left, shouting and pointing their Ml6s and AK-47s. 'Keep walking,' said Hutch.

Zhou shouted at his men. As one they aimed their guns at Chauling.

'What did you say?' asked Hutch, jamming the gun harder against Zhou's skull. 'What did you say to them?'

'I told them to shoot the girl when I give the word.' *

Hutch looked over his shoulder. 'Behind me, Chau-ling, get close behind me.' Chau-ling was shaking with fear. She had one arm around Carver, and was waving the other from side to side, not sure where to point her gun. 'Come on, stand next to me,' Hutch urged.

'Drop your gun,' said Zhou. 'Drop your gun or she dies.'

HAL AUSTIN PULLED BACK on the cyclic and lowered the collective as he put the Apache into a hover, almost five hundred feet above the treetops. The second Apache was a hundred feet THE SOLITARY MAN 405 to his left and slightly behind him. Austin clicked his microphone switch. 'You okay over there, Pete?'

'Ready when you are,' said Burden.

'Okay,' said Austin. He dipped the Apache's nose slightly. 'Let her go, Roger.'

Austin's Apache rocked as the first missile streaked away from the right-hand stub wing. It arced upwards and then dipped down as the missile's radio frequency seeker kicked in and guided it towards the distant transmitter. Even through the helmet's night vision system, Austin couldn't see the target, though it was visible on the radar screen. Without the transmitter, they'd have spent weeks searching for the camp.

Burden's Apache fired the first of its missiles. It shot away after the first Hellfire. Warner let his second Hellfire go, and it was followed almost immediately by another from Burden's Apache. Austin kept the helicopter in a steady hover, compensating for the buffeting caused by the firing. Austin followed the progress of the missiles through the monocle sight.

'Looking good, Roger,' he said. 'It's looking good.'

1 HUTCH PUSHED ZHOU DOWN the steps, keeping a tight grip on his shirt. All the soldiers were shouting and making stabbing motions with their guns. Hutch kept Zhou moving, forcing him away from the building and towards the compound gates.

'Give it up, Hutch,' said Winter. 'You don't stand a chance.'

Soldiers crowded around Hutch and Zhou, so close that he could smell their sweat. He began to drag Zhou around in a circle. Zhou had to put his hands out to the sides to keep his balance. 'I'll fire,' said Hutch. 'Tell them I'll fire.'

'A dead man walking,' said Zhou. He began to laugh, a sound like rattling stones.

The night air was suddenly split by a shrieking sound and something streaked over their heads. A second later the building exploded. The force of the blast threw Hutch to the side and he lost his grip on Zhou's shirt. He felt a blast of burning air that 406 STEPHEN LEATHER seared his exposed skin. He covered his face with his hands and staggered away from the building as bits of timber and metal ripped through the air around him.

A second explosion sent him sprawling again. A piece of timber clipped his shoulder and he felt the flesh rip open. He fell to his knees and started to crawl. The air around him seemed to have been sucked away, it was like breathing in a vacuum. He looked around for Chau-ling. She and Carver were lying face down in the dirt. He pushed himself up off the ground and headed towards her but a third explosion knocked him off his feet and he lay on his back, gasping for breath.

'THREE,' SAID LUCARELLI, HIS face pressed against the TADS/PNVS eyepieces. 'And four.' He sat up straight and flicked across the helmet's monocle sight. 'Four hits.'

'Nice shooting,' said Burden over his headset.

'Fire and forget,' said Lucarelli. 'The frequency seeker did the rest.'

'Ready to activate the laser guidance system?' asked Burden.

'Coming right up,' replied Lucarelli. He used the monocle sight to target the laser designator and pressed the laser trigger on the right-hand mission grip to lock the missile on to its target. The four frequency-guided Hellfires had all hit the same area of the warlord's camp and it was well ablaze, with tongues of red and yellow flames leaping into the night sky. Now that they knew exactly where the camp was, the remaining missiles could be independently targeted. Lucarelli picked out a group of huts which he figured were barracks for the troops or storage facilities, and aimed the laser at the largest. He pressed the missile trigger on the left-hand grip and the missile streaked away in the general direction of the camp, almost immediately reaching its maximum speed of Mach 1.17.

The missile soared upwards, and then it arced down towards the jungle as the laser receiver in its nose sent instructions to the fin control, guiding the missile towards the reflected laser light on the target. The Apache rocked from side to side but the cyclic THE SOLITARY MAN 407 moved between the co-pilot's legs as Burden swiftly compensated for the motion.

A laser-guided missile roared away from the other Apache.

Lucarelli waited until the Hellfire had exploded before sighting his laser on another area of the camp. He had plenty of time. It was like shooting fish in a barrel.

HUTCH KNELT DOWN BESIDE Chau-ling. She was unconscious but he felt for a pulse in her neck and it was strong and regular. He lifted her up, surprised at how light she was in his arms. The soldiers who had just minutes earlier been threatening to kill them were running for their lives, those who weren't lying dead on the ground. The floor was littered with corpses, discarded weapons and bits of burning debris.

'Hutch?' It was Carver, struggling to his feet.

'Can you walk?' asked Hutch.

Carver's hair was red and matted with blood and his mouth was badly gashed. He put his hand to the side of his head and then stared at his bloody palm.

Another missile shrieked overhead and hit the water tower. Hutch ducked as bits of metal and concrete exploded around them.

Carver saw Zhou's gun in the dirt and he picked it up. He ejected the clip, checked that it contained bullets, then slotted it back. 'Come on,' he said, 'there'll be nothing left of this place by the time they've finished.' They ran for the entrance to the compound.

The Solitary Man

I ZHOU YUANYI OPENED HIS eyes. The night air was filled with screams and shouts from terrified men. Something burned his hand and he pulled it away. All around him were small pieces of burning wood, the remains of his headquarters. Something 408 STEPHEN LEATHER whistled through the air like a banshee and exploded into the latrine building as he stood up. There seemed to be fires everywhere, crackling and spitting. Two Chinese mercenaries ran past Zhou, AK-47s in their arms, their eyes wide and fearful. There was another whistling sound overhead and one of the barracks exploded. The impact blew Zhou backwards and he hit the ground hard. He lay stunned for a few seconds, the taste of blood in his mouth, then he rolled on to his front and got to his feet, his ears ringing.

He ran towards the armoury. He knew it was the most dangerous place to be, but he also knew that if the camp was being attacked from the air then it was his only chance of fighting back. AK-47s and Ml6s would be no use against helicopters or planes. There were two guards crouched outside the armoury, assault rifles clutched to their chests, frozen in fear.

'Open the door!' Zhou shouted.

Another missile screeched overhead. It arced downwards and ripped into the base of the transmitter tower. It exploded in a ball of orange flame and the tower toppled sideways.

One of the guards undipped a key ring from his belt and tossed it to Zhou. 'Open it yourself,' he shouted. He grabbed his colleague by the shoulder. 'Come on, let's get out of here.'

Zhou held out his arms. 'Stay with me,' he shouted.

The guard who'd been carrying the keys shook his head vehemently. 'If we stay here, we're dead.'

Zhou stepped forward and pulled a pistol from the man's belt. He pointed it at the guard's face. 'If you run, I'll kill you here and now.' The two men stared at each other. The second guard slipped his finger inside the trigger guard of his AK-47. 'There are missiles inside,' said Zhou. 'I can shoot them down. If we don't do something they'll kill us all.'

The guard glared at Zhou, then he nodded slowly. He put down his assault rifle and held out his hand for the key ring. Zhou gave it to him. As the guard fumbled for the right key, two more missiles exploded inside the compound, so close that the ground shook under Zhou's feet. The door opened and Zhou pushed his way inside. He rushed through an anteroom lined with assault rifles and into the main storage THE SOLITARY MAN 409 area which was filled with boxes of ammunition and grenades. He pointed to the four metal cases containing the Grail missile systems.

'Take one each,' he said. 'And hurry.'

The armoury trembled as another missile exploded outside. Zhou grabbed one of the cases and ran for the door. The armoury was a potential death trap and he wanted to get as far away from it as possible.

Half a dozen soldiers in camouflage uniforms ran by, bent at the waist to keep their heads low. 'Can you see where they're coming from?' Zhou shouted.

One of the soldiers, an officer, pointed to the west. Zhou stared into the darkness but couldn't see anything.

SOLDIERS WERE POURING OUT of the compound, many of them burned and bleeding. 'Which way?' Hutch shouted at Carver. 'The jungle,' said the DEA agent. 'We can take cover in the trees.'

Another missile ripped into the compound and blew one _ of the huts into a thousand flaming pieces. Hutch tripped � on a discarded AK-47 and almost lost his footing. A soldier looked over in his direction. It was Home. Home screamed at them and took aim with his rifle. Hutch tried to run but with Chau-ling in his arms he could barely manage a jog. Home fired and the bullet whizzed ever Hutch's head. Home shouted something else and put his rifle to his shoulder again. Hutch's heart was pounding and all the strength seemed to have drained from his legs. He was going to die, he realised. There was no way he could run, no way he could escape the next bullet.

Suddenly Carver stepped between him and Home. The DEA agent fired, three shots in quick succession, and Home fell backwards into the mud. Carver pushed Hutch between the shoulder blades in the direction of the compound gate.

ZHOU FLICKED THE CATCHES on the case and lifted the lid. The Grail launching unit and tracking unit nestled in their foam rubber compartments. The two armoury guards joined him and dropped the cases on the ground next to him.

'Be careful!' he screamed.

The guards said nothing.

Zhou assembled the missile system, exactly as the Ukrainian had showed him. The Ukrainian had been a good teacher, patient and encouraging. Zhou had been one of half a dozen men who had been trained in the use of the weapon, though he'd never actually fired one. It was simple, the Ukrainian had said. Arm, aim and fire. The infra-red homing system in the missile would do the rest, provided it was pointing in the general direction of the target. The most important thing to remember was to check that there was no one standing behind you when you launched the missile. Zhou turned his head to warn the guards to stand clear, but they had already run off.

Zhou hefted the launcher on to his shoulder. Another missile streaked across the night sky, heading for the inferno that was the compound. Zhou had lost count of how many explosions there had been. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Maybe more. He pressed his eye to the sights and searched the sky in the direction the missiles had come from. He could just about make out two helicopters, hovering above the tree line about two miles away. As he watched, one of the helicopters launched another missile. They were cowards, thought Zhou. They didn't fight like men: they hid during the fight and fired their missiles from a distance, convinced that they were safe. They were wrong. Zhou smiled as he tightened his finger on the trigger. They would soon find out just how wrong they were: they were well within range of the Grail missile.

He settled the sights dead centre on the nearest helicopter. He tensed his shoulder in anticipation of the recoil and pulled the trigger.

HUTCH REACHED THE OUTSKIRTS of the jungle and slowed to a walk. Carver was already there, leaning against a tree and dabbing the knife wound on his face with the bottom of his shirt. Hutch put Chau-ling on the ground.

'How is she?' asked Carver.

'Unconscious,' said Hutch. He felt for a pulse again. It was strong and he could see her chest rise and fall as she breathed. There was a red welt across her left cheek as if she'd been slapped, and myriad cuts on her forehead. Hutch leaned forward and kissed her on the nose. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered.

She moaned, but her eyes remained closed.

Hutch looked up at Carver. 'Why? Why are they doing this?' he asked.

'They wanted Zhou Yuanyi dead.'

'And me? What about me?'

'I didn't know,' said Carver earnestly. 'I honestly didn't know. That's why we're here.'

Hutch raised his eyebrows. 'You came after me?'

'To warn you.' He winced as he dabbed his lip. 'Though if it hadn't been for your girlfriend there, I don't think I would have I been so quick to leap into the lion's den.'

'Yeah, well, I'm glad you did,' he said as he gently stroked Chau-ling's cheek.

I ROGER WARNER JUMPED AS the warning bleep went off in his headset. He scanned his VDU. 'Incoming,' he shouted.

Hal Austin's voice was unruffled as if they were doing nothing more stressful than discussing the weather. 'I have it.' The Apache was already banking to the right.

'It's tracking us,' said Warner. He scanned his panel display. The incoming missile would be using one of two systems, either 412 STEPHEN LEATHER chasing the heat from the two massive T700-GE-701C turbines or homing in using its own radar. The infra-red indicator was flashing. 'Infra-red,' he said. The two chaff and flare dispensers on each side of the tail boom some six feet from the tailplane contained countermeasures for both types of missiles. He fired an infra-red decoy flare. It shot away from its cartridge leaving behind a plume of grey smoke. 'Cart fired,' said Warner. The flare exploded to the left of the Apache. Warner stared at his VDU as the helicopter continued to dive to the right. In theory the heat generated by the pyrotechnics should be a bigger attraction than the helicopter's turbines. Warner fired a second cartridge, just to be on the safe side.

Austin had already activated the Apache's pulsed infrared jammer. Sited above the mid-fuselage, it was putting out pulses of IR frequencies designed to confuse the missile's seeker head. 'There she goes,' said Austin. The missile began to move away from the Apache, towards the flare.

Warner exhaled. He'd been holding his breath from the moment that the missile warning had gone off. The missile's path was inexorably heading away from the Apache.

'Oh fuck,' said Austin.

Warner frowned and scanned his VDU and instruments. He suddenly realised what had upset the pilot. The missile was going away from them all right, but it was now heading directly for Burden and Lucarelli's Apache.

BART LUCARELLI STARED AT the VDU screen in horror as the missile warning beeped in his headset. He'd fired off two infra-red flares but it was clear that the missile wasn't fooled. The cyclic between his legs was pushed as far forward as it would go as Burden put the Apache into a dive. Lucarelli knew it was too late. The missile hadn't even been fired at their helicopter, and if it had been then the standard evasion techniques would have neutralised it within seconds. It was the other Apache's flare that had sent the missile heading in their direction, too close to be distracted.

Burden banked the Apache to the left, so quickly that Lucarelli's stomach lurched. He couldn't take his eyes off the screen. In his headset he heard Burden start to speak, but before he could get a word out the missile struck and the Apache exploded.

HUTCH STARED UP THE slope at the burning compound.

Carver knelt over Chau-ling. 'She's coming around,' he said. Chau-ling coughed and tried to sit up. 'Easy, stay where you are,' said the DEA agent.

'Warren . . .' said Chauling.

'I'm here,' said Hutch. He crouched down beside her and brushed her bloody hair away from her face.

'You have a lot of explaining to do,' she said.

'I know.' He smiled despite himself. He patted Carver on the shoulder. 'Take care of her, Tim.' S 'What do you mean?' said Carver.

Hutch stood up. He ran his hand through his hair as he stared Iat the inferno. 'I have to go back for Billy.' 'No!' Chau-ling shouted. She sat up and stared at him, her skin ghostly pale and streaked with glistening blood. 'You can't _ go back!'

I Hutch shook his head. He didn't look at her.

'Don't be stupid, Hutch,' said Carver. 'It's suicide.' 'I can't leave him there.' 'He's dead already,' said Carver. 'You don't know that.'

'You don't owe Winter anything,' said Chauling. 'I do,' said Hutch.

'What?' asked Carver. 'What's he ever done for you?' * 'You wouldn't understand.' Hutch started up the slope.

'Wait!' shouted Carver. He tossed Hutch his gun. Hutch caught it and nodded his thanks. He looked at Chauling. Tears were streaming down her face and she had her arms out towards him, a silent plea for him to stay. There was nothing 414 STEPHEN LEATHER he could say to her. He turned and headed back up the slope towards the flames.

HAL AUSTIN WATCHED IN despair as the wreckage of Burden and Lucarelli's Apache plummeted down towards the treetops. One by one the bright spots disappeared on his helmet's night vision display and within seconds all he could see was the jungle canopy.

'It was my fault, Hal,' said Warner, his voice crackling over the headset.

Austin held the Apache in a static hover, its nose pointing towards the compound which was now engulfed in smoky flames. 'Can it, Roger,' he said.

'If I hadn't fired the cart . . .'

'If you hadn't fired the cart the missile would have got us.'

'But . . .'

'Later, Roger. We've got work to do. Can you see where it came from?'

'To the right of the compound.'

'We're going in.' There was silence from Warner. 'We're going in, Roger. Activate the chain gun.'

The Apache's Hughes XM230 chain gun was mounted in a cradle below the helicopter's nose. While the missiles were being fired, the gun was inert and locked out of the way. Warner's left hand reached forward to the weapons console and he armed the gun. It was capable of firing up to 625 rounds a minute and Warner could aim it using the helmet's monocle sight, allowing him to shoot wherever he was looking, but for greater accuracy he'd use his head-down display. He slid his hands around the grips either side of the TADS/PNVS system, his right thumb resting on the chain gun fire button and he lowered his eyes to the display. 'Let's do it,' he said.

HUTCH SEARCHED AMONG THE bodies around the pile of burning wood that was all that was left of Zhou's headquarters. He found the old servant, a piece of smoking metal embedded in his back, still alive but fading fast. A soldier grabbed at Hutch's foot and Hutch jerked it away. The soldier's left leg was missing and he was lying in a pool of his own blood. It was a scene from hell.

He saw the lower half of a body wearing jeans sticking out from underneath a jagged chunk of concrete from the water tower. He pushed the concrete away. It was Harrigan. His eyes were wide and staring and his throat was a bloody mess. There was no need even to try feeling for a pulse.

'Hutch?' Winter's voice was a hoarse whisper.

Hutch looked around. 'Billy? Where are you?'

Winter raised his arm. He was about fifty feet away, lying under ( the b.ody of one of Zhou's soldiers. Hutch pulled the corpse off him. Winter's shirt was soaked with blood.

'Oh Jesus, Billy,' said Hutch, sitting back on his heels. He touched Winter's chest, looking for the wound. Winter tried to sit up but Hutch put a restraining hand on his shoulder. 'Lie still, Billy. You've been hurt.'

'Bullshit,' said Winter. 'That's not my blood.'

'Are you sure?'

I'Sure I'm sure. Help me up.' Hutch gave him a hand and Winter pulled himself up. Almost immediately he keeled over. 'My leg,' he said. 'Christ, it hurts.' f'ls it broken?' 'I don't know. Maybe.' He looked down at his injured leg. A jagged piece of bone was sticking through the material of his trousers. 'Yeah,' said Winter, ashen-faced. 'It's broken.'

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