limited. However, in this case the Mi-4 Hound's pilot was more scared of the known threat of Reiko Oshima than of the unknown; and he had been ordered to find out what they were up against or not come back. And he was also up against a missile that did not need a heat source to make a hit. The Starburst was optically guided by a low- power laser beam.
He did his duty. He had just finished describing one of the strange black tracked vehicles that he had caught in his infrared searchlight for a brief moment when the missile's proximity fuse ignited near the fuselage and slammed a shower of tungsten cubes into the fuel tank and rotor blades.
A fireball blossomed in the sky.
That bloody woman! the pilot thought before his world exploded.
'Re-form,' said Fitzduane urgently. 'Loose Deuce. Move! Move! Move!'
The four Guntracks of Team Rapier re-formed in two teams of two, with one Guntrack on the right set back to its partner. It was a formation that would have been familiar to fighter pilots. The vehicle in front covered threats to the front. The Guntrack set back covered threats to the rear.
They had lost time in terrorist encounter with the helicopter. They had now increased the speed to one hundred kilometers an hour. Across the rough shale and rock of the ground, this was a grueling speed even with air suspension. Weapons accuracy was affected. It was difficult – almost impossible – to use some of the advanced vision equipment because of the vibration. The engine noise had risen to a crescendo, and regularly the vehicles left the ground and hurtled through the air as they hit an undulation or a fissure.
For the wounded, it was agony. Fitzduane knew this and remembered what it had been like for him and the pain and sense of helplessness, and he hated what he was doing.
Through his night-vision goggles, he could see a glow ahead of him but to the left. His brain tired, he thought at first it might be the dawn and he was surprised because it seemed too early, and then he realized what he was seeing.
The glow was moving, and it must be coming from a column of vehicles heading for the entrance to the Funnel.
They were in a race, and the enemy column, although almost certainly slower, was sufficiently ahead of them for it to get there first.
He felt sick and then, for a brief moment, blindly angry, and then there were things to do and very little time for emotion.
'Shadow One to Eagle Leader,' he said.
'Come in, Shadow One,' said Kilmara. The sound quality was good. They were close.
Fitzduane could almost see the two Hercules C130 Combat Talons in their matte-black camouflage hurtling at contour-following height over the harsh terrain. The pilot and copilot and navigator would be wearing night-vision goggles and faces would be tired and strained from the long flight. There would be the steady throb and whine of turboprops. There would be the jolts and shocks that came from flying so close to the ground you were virtually in ground effect.
'Eagle Flight, what is your firepower status?' said Fitzduane.
'Both aircraft configured for Guntrack evacuation, so weapons load minimized,' said Kilmara.
Fitzduane felt a sinking feeling and then realized that ‘minimized’ was a relative term in special-forces aviation. These people felt nervous if they did not have some serious firepower up their sleeve.
'Both aircraft have two GECAL fifties for ground suppression and other toys for the air,' continued Kilmara, 'but they do not have gunship status and are tasked for evac. I do not want to risk the evac, but state your thinking.'
'We will only be evacuating three – I repeat THREE – Guntracks,' said Fitzduane. 'Shadow One will be staying on ground as tail-end Charlie. Accordingly, only one aircraft will need to land. Suggest second EAGLE adopt a ground suppression role. We have heavy company from the east.'
Wait one, Shadow One,' said Kilmara. He switched to the second Combat Talon and talked to the Bear. In less than a minute he was back to Fitzduane.
'Eagle Leader will land to evac,' Kilmara said, 'and Eagle Friend will carry out ground suppression. He can handle up to armored personnel carriers, but tanks could be a problem. Eagle Friend awaits your instructions. Please advise how crew of Shadow One plans to evac. I presume Skyhook.'
'Affirmative on Skyhook,' said Fitzduane. 'But we will need maneuvering space. There are people down here who do not have our best interests at heart.'
'Understood, Shadow One,' said Eagle Friend. 'We await your call.' It was the Bear's voice.
Fitzduane looked at the approaching glow. He could now see a shitload of tanks and APCs. Worryingly, they were ignoring Team Rapier's convoy of Guntracks and were still heading hell-for-leather toward the Funnel. Someone too damn smart was in command.
Once the valley was blocked, the hostiles could pick off the Guntracks at their leisure.
Reiko Oshima felt excited as she rarely had before as her armored column thundered toward the Funnel.
There was the roar of the tank engine and the smell of oil and the wind against her face and the exhilaration of speed, and she felt, for the first time since this fracas had started, that she was going to end up on the winning side.
The helicopter pilot had delivered. She now knew that she was dealing with some kind of high-speed tracked vehicle and that there were four in the dust clouds off to the right.
They were obviously the advance guard. Given the scale of the damage that had been inflicted so far, it was clear that a larger force was involved, and she estimated that there were probably a further twenty or so following behind. Allowing four people to a vehicle crew – she thought commander, gunner, loader and driver per tank – that suggested an overall enemy force of about a hundred. That seemed to make sense. It also suggested that they would leave their vehicles behind when they evacuated or else that deserted strip at Arkono was going to be a busy little place for a while.
The important thing was that she had called it right. She had guessed the enemy's intentions and now she was beating this hostile force to the punch. The enemy tracks were faster, that was sure, but her force was ahead and was going to get there first.
And then there would be a killing ground. Retribution.
Fitzduane knew that this would be the last time that Team Rapier would be together, and for a brief moment he felt unaccountably sad and tired but also immensely proud.
There were few things more satisfying than to command a combat unit at its peak, and the people of Team Rapier had been the best, the very best. And now it was almost over, this courageous, audacious adventure, and he felt regret.
The moment passed. The immediate pressed on him.
'Shadow One to all,' he said on the unit net, 'Shadow Three will remain with me and fight the hostile column to a halt. Shadows Two and Five will head on through the Funnel and will evac. Shadow Three will join if possible.
'Move! Move! Move!'
Cochrane brought Shadow One to a halt and lowered the rear air springs, while Al Lonsdale loaded a six- round clip into the Dilger and aligned the laser sight. After the noise and buffeting of the high-speed advance, to be still and silent on this vast undulating space seemed strange.
Off to the right, Shadow Three advanced toward the column, firing on the move with its. 50 GECAL. Its job was to draw fire while Fitzduane's vehicle killed tanks. Only the Dilger could do that with certainty at this range.
