Page 24 of Enemy Within
There was nowhere to hide on the open plain, no cover to be found. No snow trench to hurriedly dig. The men lined up with Kilaqqi, their rifles and shotguns armed and ready to fire. A line of men standing in the snow, facing down a charging attack helicopter. It was a bravery Sasha didn’t have. “They will kill you!” he shouted, down on one knee. “We have to run!”
“No. We face our enemy.” Kilaqqi sighted down his rifle, taking aim at the chopper. The roar had started again, the slash and cut of the rotors against the sky. Snow started to blow, kicked up and sprayed through the air, whiting out the world.
Perhaps, an opportunity. Sasha ran into the blinding snow, the driving flakes slashing at his cheeks. He ducked and rolled, took a faceful of snow, and then opened fire as the chopper roared overhead, lost in the swirling whiteout. He aimed for the fuel hatch, the rear rotor. He got two shots off from the old shotgun before the weapon clicked.
As he fired, so did the chopper.
Gunmen,Spetsnaztroops hanging out of the cargo hold and braced against the rails, opened up on Kilaqqi and the herdsmen. Visibility was low in the swirling snow kicked up from the rotor wash, but Kilaqqi and his men hadn’t moved.
Or had they?
Shadows darted through the snowstorm, shapes moving in the gloom. Gunshots echoed, heavy bursts followed by metallic plinks and the snap of bullets striking steel.
Something fell, a loud scream and then thewhompof impact.
Sasha darted forward, sliding two new slugs into his shotgun. A body lay ahead, face-down and wearing a black uniform and helmet. He kicked the body over. One of theSpetsnaztroopers. Sasha grabbed his rifle and rooted through his pockets.
Overhead, the chopper was still roaring, still kicking up snow. Bullets flew through the snow haze. A man screamed. Shouts in Russian, and then shadowy figures seemed to slink through the whiteout.Spetsnaz, rappeling from the chopper.
Perfect. They’d just given him a fixed location.
Sasha’s hand closed around what he’d been looking for. Gritting his teeth, a feral, wild surge flowed through him as he ripped the pins from the heads of four stolen grenades and hurled them toward where the chopper hovered. He dove to the ground and covered his head, burying his face in the snow.
He counted to three.
The chopper burst apart, shearing like a can wrenched in half. Flaming debris rained down on the snow as the lithe helicopter body pitched forward, plunging to the ground. Rotors chewed into the ice, splintering apart and flying through the air. TwoSpetsnaztroopers went down, bits of broken helicopter and molten metal embedded in their necks. Burning fuel spread, slithering on the snow and catching fire. Finally, Sasha could see what was happening.
Kilaqqi and five of his men were still fighting, shooting and running. As he watched, Kilaqqi rose and took aim at a soldier dazed from the blast of the chopper, and fired. His trench coat fluttered, and the bloom from the crash lit up the sky behind him, silhouetting his form.
For a moment, Sasha saw the outline of a bear and a wolf, an eagle and a reindeer, standing beside Kilaqqi, all in a line, ghostly and ethereal. The animals were ferocious, as if they were each attacking in time with Kilaqqi and facing off against theSpetsnaztroops.
He blinked, and the spectral animals vanished. Kilaqqi ducked, and another man rose to fire on theSpetsnaz. One went down, crimson staining the snow beneath his body.
TheSpetsnazhad lost four men. Three shot, and the one who had fallen before Sasha.
That left three more. Two troopers and the lieutenant.
Sasha scanned the makeshift battlefield, a mix of snow and flame and burning debris. Where was the lieutenant? He wouldn’t go down that easy.
A snap cracked the air beside his head, and warmth rushed down his cheek. Cursing, Sasha ducked to the snow and felt the side of his face. His hand came away bloody.
Where had the shot come from? He searched the snowy plain. Saw Kilaqqi face down another trooper and win. Saw one of theSpetsnazjog back toward the burning wreckage of the chopper and take a bullet to the back of the leg. Saw another herdsman line up for the finishing shot.
And then, he spotted a smudge of darkness in the snow, a man half-buried in a hastily dug snow trench. Easy to miss. Easy to pass right over. A line of fuel burnt between him and the man, shivering the air with heat waves. For a moment, Sasha doubted what he saw.
Another bullet cracked the air, a whistling snap that made the hairs on his arms stand on end.
Dropping to his stomach, Sasha lined up on the snow, sighting the dark smudge through his sights on his rifle, through the shimmering flames. He’d have one shot at this.
He inhaled, exhaled—
Another shot snapped past his cheek, stinging with the burn of metal slicing skin.
—and squeezed the trigger.
He dropped and felt his cheek.
Just a scratch.
