“We’re doing it for a good reason,” said Kari. “Unlike Qobras.”
“I know what your reasons are. That’s why
“As long as they don’t want to destroy it, that’s good enough for me,” Nina told him. Kari gave her an admiring look.
“You might have changed your mind,” Starkman said as his radio squawked again. “Not that you’ll get the chance now.”
“Eagle Leader, we’ve got everything we need. Setting the charges,” said Gunter.
“Roger that.” Starkman looked up. The two Halos were still following their slow circle, about two hundred feet above the ground. He switched radio channels. “Chopper two, this is Eagle Leader. Move into pickup position.”
“Roger,” replied the pilot. One of the helicopters wheeled lazily about to head for the temple. More ropes dropped from its side.
“Well, I guess this is the end,” said Starkman, looking back at his prisoners. “Sorry about this, Eddie, but I’ve got my orders.”
“You can take your fake sympathy and shove it up your arse, you two-faced twat,” Chase snarled. “I should’ve let those al-Qaeda wankers kill you in Afghanistan.”
“The world’ll be glad you didn’t. Good-bye, Eddie.” Starkman gestured to his men, who forced Nina and Kari down onto their knees next to Chase.
Nina felt the cold, hard barrel of a gun touch the back of her head. She closed her eyes…
And heard a hissing noise.
The man behind her let out a wet, bubbling gasp before crashing to the ground. Nina opened her eyes to see spears and arrows flying overhead. One of the men behind Philby took an arrow to his leg. He grimaced, then reached to pull it out… only for his eyes to bulge wide. Fingers spasming, struggling to breathe, he collapsed.
Starkman whirled-and was hit in the chest by another arrow. But it struck only his Kevlar body armor, not flesh. “Open fire!” he shouted, taking cover by the nearest hut as he raised his UMP-40 and unleashed it into the surrounding trees.
The men covering Nina and Kari jumped back, following Starkman’s lead and firing into the jungle. Kari grabbed Nina’s arm. “Go!”
She hauled Nina with her as she ran. A commando behind her turned to shoot them, but a bola whirred from the jungle, two of its weighted strands yanking his gun away from its targets. The fist-sized stone on the third strand smashed into his face, knocking out teeth.
Chase saw his chance as the huge man behind him moved, and thrust his elbow savagely backwards to catch him in the groin.
He missed. The man grunted in pain, but had taken the impact on the bulging muscles of his upper thigh. Chase looked up to see him staring back, anger twisting his face. The mercenary’s gun came around-
Chase flung himself backwards at the man’s knees, trying to knock him off his feet. The man staggered, then fell-landing on top of him, his knees slamming onto Chase’s chest. Wheezing, Chase grabbed at his adversary’s UMP-40-
A fist smashed into his face. Chase heard a sharp crack as his nose broke. He was almost surprised at the lack of pain, but he knew from experience that it would come soon enough.
The fist drew back for another strike. Chase released the gun and snapped his hands up to block it as it descended. He squeezed, trying to crush the man’s fingers…
Kari and Nina ran towards Castille and the other prisoners. “Get into the hut!” Kari shouted as a spear sliced through the air just behind them.
“No, we’ve got to help them!” Nina answered. One of the dead Indians lay on the ground in her path. She snatched up his knife. “Come on!”
Starkman fired off more rounds into the trees as he shrieked into his walkie-talkie. “Chopper one! I need suppressing fire on the treeline!
One of the men near the captives was hit from behind by a spear, the razor-sharp obsidian blade penetrating deep into his skull. Still firing wildly, he fell against the wall of a hut, breaking the wood.
The big man pulled his hand free of Chase’s grip with a roar, then drove his knees down with piledriver force onto his ribcage. Chase tried to yell, but there was no air left in his lungs.
Their guards distracted, Castille and di Salvo were already on their feet as Nina and Kari reached them. Nina grabbed Philby and hacked at the twine binding his hands as Kari tugged at Castille’s knots.
“Our guns!” said Castille, indicating their piled-up belongings nearby.
Another of Starkman’s men fell, a poisoned arrow in his neck.
A raging wind tore through the village as the Halo hovered overhead. Spent shell casings clattered down like hail as a six-barreled rotary cannon mounted inside the cabin door opened up, spraying fire into the wildly waving trees.
Philby was free. “Kari!” Nina shouted, throwing her the knife. Kari snapped it out of the air and hacked at di Salvo’s bonds as Castille dived for the rifles. “Get into the hut, get down!” She all but threw Philby into the flimsy structure as an arrow pierced the wood.
One of the Brotherhood’s team threw himself back against another hut to avoid an arrow, and in doing so realized that his prisoners were now free.
The Halo turned in place, raking the trees with Minigun fire. The downdraft from its main rotor was so strong that the huts were blown apart, debris scattering in all directions.
The huge soldier bent down and clamped his hands around Chase’s neck, thumbs pressing hard against his carotid artery.
The pulsing roar of blood in Chase’s ears drowned out even the noise of the helicopter. He could see it almost directly overhead, the rotors a blur behind the sadistic grin of the man strangling him. He raised his arms to strike at the man’s face, but he was too big, his arms longer, and Chase’s clawing fingers fell short.
Blackness swirled at the edges of his sight, his head pounding.
He couldn’t reach the face of the man crushing his chest-but he could reach his body…
The barrage of primitive but effective weapons from the jungle stopped abruptly as the firestorm from the helicopter carved through the attacking Indians. Horrific screams echoed from the trees.
Castille grabbed one of the team’s Colt rifles and brought it around, only to see one of Starkman’s men already aiming at him with a UMP.
The man pulled the trigger-just as di Salvo hurled himself bodily in front of Castille. The three-round burst hit di Salvo in his hip and thigh, blood spurting from the wounds as he crashed screaming to the ground.
