VIABLE (29 page)

He was almost at the door to the facility when the earpiece beeped, letting him know someone was trying to contact him. He tapped the side of the unit, opening the channel.

‘
Where have you been? Gant has escaped!
’

It was
Der Eckzahn
.

Scheiβe
. Why had he removed the earpiece? If
Der Eckzahn
decided to blame him for this it could cost him dearly. He was about to respond when he saw the door to the facility opening.

He gently slid the Colt from the pocket of his flak vest and pressed himself up against the wall behind the door, waiting.
Der Eckzahn
would already have sent more men from Las Vegas; it would take them only minutes to arrive in the Lynx. He would have Gant back in custody before they got here.  

Friedrichs waited, counting the seconds. If Gant would just take one more step he could take him. Why was he hesitating? He couldn’t know anyone was behind the door. He was sure he hadn’t made a sound, and as loud as
Der Eckzahn’s
ranting sounded through the earpiece it wouldn’t be audible to anyone else. The comms units they used were the best money could buy. 

Gant was just being cautious. 

38

HE
HELD
THE release down with his elbow, pushing the door open a fraction. It was bright outside, probably mid-morning. The ground was dry, dusty, like they were in the desert, possibly Nevada. He inched the door open a little further with his shoulder. He could see a couple of outbuildings, and beyond a chain-link fence. There didn’t seem to be anyone out here.

He was about to step out when he heard a voice. Tinny, muted, almost inaudible.

But definitely there.

Cody froze, straining to hear. There it was again. Almost impossible to make out but definitely the sound of a voice, someone agitated.

It was coming from behind the door.

He didn’t have time to put Alison down. Instead he threw all of his weight against the door, slamming his shoulder into it. He heard a grunt, felt the door connect with something on the other side, saw a gun flying off into the dirt. Without hesitating he stepped back, Alison still in his arms, and kicked as hard as he could. The door flew backwards and again he felt it slam into whoever was behind it. Hopefully that would give him a second. He stepped outside and knelt down quickly, lowering her to the ground as gently as he could.

The man who had been waiting behind the door appeared in an instant, rushing forward to tackle him, ignoring Alison, her vacant eyes telling him immediately that she was no threat. The man was huge, towering over him by five or six inches, grey eyes underneath a shock of white-blond hair betraying no fear.

Cody scrabbled backwards in the dirt, trying to get out of the way, but he was off balance and despite his size the man was quick, on him in a second. He lashed out with a boot, connecting with a huge ankle as the man advanced. His attacker fell forward, landing awkwardly on top of him and they grappled in the dirt. The blond man had to outweigh him by a hundred pounds, and he was immensely strong. Now he was using all of that weight to push the edge of one huge forearm down onto his windpipe, cutting off his air supply.

Then he heard it. Faint at first but unmistakable, the familiar
wop-wop-wop
of rotors. Still several miles away – his attacker hadn’t yet noticed – but he knew the helicopter would be here in a minute, maybe less. He had no more time.

He twisted his body, pushing with every last ounce of his strength, throwing the man to one side, rolling clear.  As he started to get to his feet he suddenly felt dizzy, the effort combined with the loss of blood causing his vision to grey momentarily. He looked up. Friedrichs was already on his feet, but for the first time the huge German hesitated, glancing up at the sky as now he too heard the helicopter. In a matter of moments his men would be here.

Cody knew he couldn’t allow himself to be stalled for the few seconds it would take for reinforcements to arrive. The man was well trained, confident in his abilities. He had attacked without hesitation. He would have seen the bag taped to Alison’s shoulder, would probably also know that the doctors had taken blood from him earlier. Another wave of light-headedness hit him and Cody staggered backwards, shaking his head to clear it. He saw the change in the German’s expression and an instant later the man was lunging forward, feinting to the left before suddenly changing direction.

His attacker moved with incredible speed, but Cody had read the feint, had slipped the scalpel from his pocket as he stood. Now he stepped forward and grabbed one huge wrist, twisting it hard. Before he had time to react Cody yanked it forwards, at the same time stepping back slightly to pull the large man off balance. The hand that concealed the scalpel shot up to the man’s neck. He had already slid his foot across in front of the German’s right leg as he pivoted, continuing to pull the man’s wrist down, locking it against his body. In one fluid motion he straightened his knees, lifting the large man off his feet. For an instant he felt the man’s weight and then he was bending his own body forward, twisting his torso to the left, using his attacker’s momentum to throw him over his shoulder.

Friedrichs lay flat on his back on the dusty ground, momentarily stunned. He tried to push himself up with his right hand but the wrist was broken, no longer able to bear his weight. With his left he reached for his throat, as if for the first time noticing something there. His fingers came away slick, a look of surprise on his face as he held them up. It had happened so fast he hadn’t felt the scalpel entering his neck, slicing through the carotid artery. Bright red blood, a surprising amount of it, spilled from his lips and ran down his neck, pooling in the dirt underneath his head.

There was no time to waste. Cody grabbed the German by his flak jacket and dragged him into the facility. Once inside he pushed the call button for the lift, pulling the man in as the doors opened, an instant later closing silently behind him. As the lift descended he bent down to remove the comms unit from the man’s ear. Friedrichs made no effort to resist. The lift stopped, the doors opening on the lowest level. He stepped over the man, and pulled him halfway out of the lift so that his body blocked the doors, preventing them from closing. Then he sprinted back up the stairs, pushing the comms unit into his ear as he went, tapping the earpiece to open the channel. He had to assume these men were professionals and would keep chatter to a minimum, even over a secure network. But he might be able to pick something up, at least until they realized he was listening in and switched frequencies.

He found Alison where he had left her, still staring blankly into nothing. He picked her up and carried her around to the side of the building, propping her against the wall. He crouched down to peer around the corner. He could make out the helicopter now, a Lynx, its nose pointed down, approaching fast. Had they seen him? He had to hope they hadn’t been close enough. Everything depended on them coming straight in to land, on the men who were in the helicopter heading directly into the facility. There was a clear trail for them to follow. The blond man he had dragged back inside had left enough blood for them to spot even before they would touch down. But if the pilot decided to circle the compound before landing, or if whoever was in charge was smart enough to secure the perimeter before checking the buildings, they would be found. He had to assume eight or nine men in the Lynx. Armed, well trained, like the man he had already killed. He had retrieved the Colt he had knocked from the man’s hand. He thumbed the release to eject the clip. Six rounds. He still had the scalpel. He might be able to take two of them, three if he were lucky. Probably no more. And he needed to do it without alerting the pilot.

The Lynx was only a few hundred yards away, still coming in fast, now starting to descend. He saw the landing gear drop from the fuselage. Through the comms unit he could hear someone trying to contact a man named Friedrichs, presumably the blond man whose body he had dragged back into the facility. If they didn’t get a response would the pilot circle the compound first before landing? If they did he and Alison would be seen, and it would be over. He held his breath, watching as the pilot brought the helicopter straight in, choosing to land as close to the main building as possible. The pilot flared the Lynx at the last moment, the wash from the rotors kicking up clouds of dust. Before the wheels had touched the cargo doors slid open and men jump out of both sides, weapons drawn. He counted eight, waiting to see how they would disperse. The four who had exited the helicopter on the side nearest the entrance to the facility were already going through the door, stopping only briefly to examine the blood on the ground. He expected the other men to move out to positions around the compound, to begin searching the other buildings. If they split up he might be able to pick them off individually before he was noticed. Could he take all of them before the first group had completed their search of the facility? It was unlikely.

But after spending only a few seconds scanning the compound from where they stood the second group turned and followed the others inside.

He had no time to lose. It would take only minutes for them to sweep the building. By the time they came back out he and Alison had to be gone. He ran around the back so that he could approach the helicopter from behind, pausing for only a moment when he reached the other side to check that the men were still inside. The rotors were still spinning as he broke cover. He ran, crouching low, ducking under the tail boom, sliding in the dirt under the belly of the helicopter, emerging just behind the door on the other side. He needed to deal with the pilot before he had a chance to relay a warning to the team inside the building.

Through the perspex of the cockpit door Cody could see the man checking his instruments as the rotors slowed. He reached up and grasped the recessed door latch, turning it as gently as he could until he found the mechanism’s biting point. Through the earpiece he could hear that they had found Friedrichs body. Then static as they switched channel, realizing he had taken the comms unit and was listening to them.

He was out of time. Even now they would be warning the pilot. He pulled the door open and reached in to grab the man’s jacket, using the butt of the pistol to knock him out. He leaned over, quickly removed his headset and undid the harness. He pulled the unconscious man out of his seat, lifting him on to his shoulder. His luck had held this far but when the pilot didn’t respond they would realize he was already outside. Even now they would be sprinting down the corridors, up the staircase, heading for the exit door. It would only be a matter of seconds before they would re-emerge from the building.

He ran around the nose of the helicopter and dumped the pilot in front of the entrance, wedging his unconscious body against the bottom of the metal door. The door only opened outwards. He had to hope it was the only way to exit the facility. It wouldn’t take them long to push the pilot out of the way, but every second now might be vital.

Alison was where he had left her, lying in the dirt by the side of the building. He bent down to pick her up, then sprinted back to the helicopter, placing her on the floor in the load area, sliding the cargo door shut. Half a second later he was pulling himself up into the pilot’s seat, not bothering with either the harness or the headset. He had never flown a Lynx before but it took him only a moment to scan the cockpit, pressing the ignition while he familiarized himself with the panels of dials and switches. He twisted the throttle grip on the collective to the start position and squeezed the starter trigger, listening to the shrill whine as the high-speed electric motors began to turn the blades, slowly at first, then faster. Then the flame caught in the turbine, and he opened the throttle to idle. Even inside the facility there would be no mistaking the sound of the helicopter’s twin Rolls-Royce engines preparing for takeoff.

Above him through the canopy the four rotors were becoming a blur. He pulled the collective up, increasing the pitch to lift the nose. Through the perspex window to his left he noticed the door to the facility move a couple of inches as someone behind tried to open it, the pilot’s unconscious body preventing it moving further. He twisted in power, raising the helicopter into a hover six feet from the ground. Beneath him he saw the door move again, opening further this time as whoever was behind it pushed harder against the obstruction.

He nudged the cyclic forward, tilting the spinning rotors down. The Lynx immediately obeyed, the nose dropping as it moved forwards. He could no longer see the door but he knew that one more push and they would be through. He pulled up on the collective, twisting in as much throttle as he dared. The helicopter lurched forward and upwards and he corrected with the pedals at his feet for drift. He was unfamiliar with the controls and for the first few seconds he overcompensated, the nose shifting to the left and then to the right, the helicopter waggling from side to side as it sped forward through the compound. Then he adjusted, correcting the pitch of the tail rotors and the nose came into line, pointing directly ahead. He pulled up on the collective, twisting the grip to add more power, and the Lynx accelerated smoothly across the compound. The chain-link fence passed beneath them as the rotors found undisturbed air, and the helicopter jumped into a climb. He looked over his shoulder in the direction of the facility. The last of the men were coming through the door, stepping over the pilot’s body, each looking up as the helicopter they had arrived in climbed away from them. One of the men in front seemed to be talking, his head down, one finger to his ear, presumably relaying news of their escape.

But Cody knew they hadn’t escaped yet. The Lynx would have a tracker. Once activated it would relay their position to whoever was responsible for their abduction. He needed to get Alison to somewhere that might be able to treat her. He switched on the helicopter’s navigation system, reading their position. Nevada, just outside Las Vegas. Fallon was three hundred miles to the north. He checked the fuel gauges. They might just make it if he flew carefully, but he couldn’t afford to do that. He needed to push as hard as he could. He had to assume that even now another helicopter, just as fast as this one, was being sent to intercept him. Fitzpatrick could scramble a team to meet them somewhere in the desert, before they ran out of fuel and had to ditch. He pulled on the headset and dialed in the secure frequency for the base tower, asking to be put through directly to the commander.