Page 111 of Enemy Within
Cook twisted around in his seat and grinned at Adam. “Welcome to your new base, Lieutenant.”
43
North Kara Sea
THE BERIEV HURTLED DOWN the ice runway, engines roaring. Ethan clasped Jack’s hand, hard enough to make Jack’s bones shift. Seated behind Sasha and Sergey, Ethan saw more than he wanted to out of the front of the plane. His heart clambered into his throat as his stomach went into open revolt.
“That Halo is back!” Scott shouted. “Coming back over the station. She’s moving behind us!”
Ethan craned his neck, trying to see. The Halo moved through the billowing smoke like a monster rising from the depths. “We’ve got to move!”
“Can this go faster?” Sergey leaned closer to Sasha.
“Soviet piece of shit,” Sasha snapped. The controls shook violently in his hands. He strained to hold the yoke, and his legs were pressed hard on the foot pedals for the rudder. “This plane is garbage!” He slammed his fist on the instrument panel, punching it until a glass dial shattered.
“It’s what we have.” Jack leaned forward. “We just have to go.Now.”
Bullets chewed the ice behind them, gouging holes in the runway. Chunks of ice hit their plane, like hail slamming into a tin roof. Scott dove back from the window.
“Da.” Sasha grit his teeth and gripped the control yoke. The plane rose, jerking upward in a stomach-lurching jolt, and screamed just over the burning station. Flames curled around their wingtips and swirled in the wash of their propellers.
“They’re coming around.” Scott was back at the windows, going from side to side in the cabin of the Beriev, watching for the Halo. “Coming behind us, again!”
Dull thuds sounded, like rocks being thrown at their hull. Sasha growled. Sergey’s face went white.
“Tell me about the gunner!” Sasha shouted over his shoulder. “Was he using gun mount?”
“What?” Ethan shouted, shaking his head. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Was he using fixed gun mount in the door? Or was it just man and a rifle?”
“Gotta move!” Scott’s bellow interrupted their shouts. “He’s getting closer!”
Ethan scrambled to recall. He’d been on the ice, flames licking his arms. The Halo overhead, firing after him, turning his way… “Just a man. He was leaning out of the opening. No mount.”
“Perfect.” Sasha jerked the yoke hard, veering the plane in a tight, screaming turn. The Beriev’s engines wailed, and the whole frame shuddered, jerking violently like it was about to come apart at the seams. The move might have been perfect in a MiG, but it was going to rip them to shreds.
Sergey grasped the window frame, his seat edge, the controls above him, and then Sasha’s arm. “We are not in a fighter jet!”
Sasha leveled them out. Ethan looked up.
They were headed right for the Halo, coming in at a sharp angle and close enough to count rivets on the massive beast. The door gunner, a vicious looking man with a long beard and a shaved head, grinned wide and swung his massive rifle toward them. It would have been right at home mounted on a tank. He aimed for the cockpit.
“Duck,” Sasha growled. “Duck now!”
“What the fuck are you doing?” Sergey sputtered. “Sash—”
Sasha grabbed Sergey by the back of the neck and pulled him down, tugging him until he was face planted in Sasha’s lap. Muffled curses rose from Sergey, but he stayed low when the glass shattered and bullets slammed into the metal airframe. Berievs were built like steel bulls, their noses reinforced to withstand the inevitable Soviet crash. Or, in this case, bullets.
Ethan grabbed Jack and pulled him down, twisting his body over Jack’s as they lay on the cockpit deck. He joined Sergey, cursing Sasha’s choices. “You’re going to get us killed!”
“Almost there,” Sasha hissed. Bullets continued to plink off their hull and slam into the airframe. One wing creaked like it wanted to tear itself off the plane and flee. The frame shuddered, absorbing bullet after bullet.
Sasha jerked the controls to the max, twisting the old Beriev almost straight up, shooting over the nose of the Halo. The engine wailed. One propeller rattled and broke in two, the pieces flying away. The roar of the Halo, the twin gas turbine engines, boomed through their smaller plane, deep enough to rattle their organs. Busted glass rained down through the broken cockpit windows, and then the Halo’s rotary blades were far, far too close, filling Ethan’s sight.
They bucked, skidding wildly through the air as they passed over the Halo and then fell, almost in a mad tumble, half from the broken propeller and half from the turbulence kicked off from the Halo’s rotors.We’re not flying. We’re falling. Ethan pulled Jack close, trying to brace for the seemingly-imminent crash and protect Jack as best he could. Ice-cold wind whipped through the cockpit.
Sasha leveled them off and slowed their speed. The engine sputtered, and the plane listed to one side. Silence strained the Beriev, save for Sasha’s deep, harsh pants. The winds leveled out until it was just the breeze from their flight.
